by Zoe Chant
Get close, his griffin urged. He can’t burn you if you’re right on top of him.
It was good advice. Gabriel rose to meet the dragon.
In the brief moment before battle was joined, he wondered why the hell the dragon was attacking them. Was it after him? After Emily? Had it attacked her car earlier? Were dragons the sworn enemies of griffins? Gabriel wished he could speak in griffin form, to ask the dragon or demand that it stop, but with his eagle’s beak and throat all he could do was scream a battle cry.
All those thoughts flashed through his mind in the briefest of instants. Then he met the dragon in mid-air, and there was no more time for thought.
He slashed out with his talons, scoring the dragon’s black hide. But it twisted in mid-air, writhing like a snake, and slashed him back. Its claws sank deep into his shoulder, but Gabriel barely felt the pain. Adrenaline burned through his veins, along with a steely determination to protect his mate, no matter the cost.
Instead of veering off, he darted closer, his sharp beak snapping, his talons outstretched to grab the dragon and pull it close. But it slipped away again, evading his attack, and took a deep breath. Gabriel was forced to dodge as it sent a blast of flame at him. He was so close that it singed the feathers on one wingtip.
Gabriel’s lungs and wings felt the strain of his exertions. He’d never flown like this before—never fought like this before. He was pushing himself to his limits. But he couldn’t give up. He had to protect Emily.
Determined, he found the strength within himself to turn back to the dragon. He soared to the side, avoiding its head, and slashed at its flank.
But the dragon must have been expecting that. It whipped around before Gabriel had even completed his movement, lashing out with its front leg. Before he could pull back, the dragon’s razor-sharp claws tore into his right wing.
The pain was intense, but there was worse to come. When Gabriel tried to move in again, his right wing gave way. No matter how hard he tried, it would only move weakly, barely enough to keep him from falling from the sky.
Unbalanced, he began to spiral downward. The dragon followed, intent on its prey.
Gabriel fought to stay aloft, but knew it was a losing battle. If he stayed in the air, he’d have to spend all his strength and attention just to keep flying, with none to spare to fight. If he landed, he wouldn’t be able to dodge the dragon’s flame.
A strange calm settled over him. Since he had no better choice, he’d land and make his last stand in front of the cave. If nothing else, he was big enough to block the entrance. Even if the dragon killed him, his dead body would still be a shield to protect his mate.
Chapter Seven
Emily
Emily stood in the entrance to the cave, scared and frustrated. So much for her stupid childhood dreams about being a dragonslayer. The man she loved was courageously fighting the dragon in the sky, protecting her at great risk to himself, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to help him. All she could do was watch as he fought and bled for her.
Her hand flew to her mouth in horror as she saw the dragon injure Gabriel’s wing. He began to descend in an uneven spiral. Gabriel was obviously struggling to regain altitude, and just as obviously couldn’t. The dragon followed him down in a leisurely manner. As they both came closer, Emily could see the cruel glint in the dragon’s green eyes.
Hot rage filled her, burning away her fear. How dare the dragon attack a wounded opponent who couldn’t fight back! How dare it attack her mate!
She clenched her fists so hard that her nails bit into her palms, wishing she could fly. Wishing she had a sword. If only the dragon was close enough for her to punch it or hit it with a stick or bash it with a rock! She looked around for a weapon, saw rocks scattered around the cave, and hefted one that fit easily into her hand. It was the size of a baseball.
The moment she had that thought, she realized that she could do something. She’d been the best pitcher on her high school softball team, and she still pitched with a neighborhood league. Both dragon and griffin had descended enough that they weren’t much further than the distance between the pitcher’s mound and the catcher. And the dragon wasn’t watching her at all. Its attention was fixed on Gabriel.
Emily pivoted, wound her arm back, and threw the rock as hard as she could. It was much heavier than a softball, but her throw was fueled by rage and fear and love. The stone slammed into the dragon’s head with a loud thud.
The dragon’s green eyes rolled back and its wings went limp. For a fraction of a second, it seemed to hang in the sky. Then it plummeted to the ground.
The crash shook the earth. Snow flew up in all directions, then fell back down to cover the dragon like a shroud.
Gabriel landed heavily in the snow, his shoulder bleeding and his wing dragging. Emily ran toward him, then halted as golden sparks gathered around him. When they dissipated, he was a man again. He was on his feet but pale and swaying, with his bloody right arm hanging limp at his side.
She reached out to steady him, though she knew she couldn’t catch him if he fell. “You saved me.”
He managed to straighten, planting his feet more firmly on the ground, before he bent to kiss her. “You saved me. And yourself. I can’t believe you took out a dragon with a rock!”
“I can throw a softball at sixty-five miles per hour.” Emily glanced nervously at the snow-covered dragon. “I didn’t kill it, did I?”
“I doubt it,” Gabriel said. “But let’s not stick around to find out. And don’t poke it, either; you might wake it up.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” No way was she going near that fire-breathing beast! “But you’re hurt. Let me see. I can tear up your shirt for bandages.”
Gabriel shook his head. “They’d just tear off. I have to turn back into a griffin to fly us out of here.”
“What?” Emily stared at him. “You just fell out of the sky!”
Every line of his body was tense with pain, but his voice was calm and steady as he said, “I have to. If we try to walk out and that dragon wakes up any time soon, it’ll be on top of us before we’ve gone a mile. It’ll be fine, Emily. I won’t go high.”
Before she could object, he backed off and transformed. She was too worried about him to enjoy the sight, and was not reassured when he was finished. His white feathers were streaked with blood, and he stood with one wing folded neatly and one dragging in the snow.
“Gabriel...” Emily began.
He gave an impatient cry and pawed the ground, his talons leaving furrows in the snow.
She fell silent. All else aside, she agreed with him that it would be better to fly out, if they could. She just wasn’t sure it was possible. But she didn’t want to stand there arguing with a griffin who could only communicate in eagle’s cries and gestures until the dragon woke up.
Emily carefully climbed on the griffin’s back, biting her lip as she felt him flinch. She gripped his feathers in her hands. “I’m ready.”
His chest expanded, and he leaped into the air. His good wing beat fiercely, and his injured wing strained to keep up. Emily held her breath, terrified that he would come tumbling down and hurt himself even more. But he managed to stay aloft, skimming through the air just above the treetops.
She couldn’t enjoy this flight, she was so worried about Gabriel. She could hear his harsh breath, and feel how hard he was laboring to stay in the air. It had to hurt him every time he moved his injured wing, and it couldn’t be easy for him to fly at all, let alone fly with her.
Emily was immensely relieved when the cabin finally came into view. Gabriel landed in front of it with a jarring thud, nearly knocking her off. She scrambled down and backed away, giving him space to become a man again.
The cloud of golden sparks appeared, then vanished. Gabriel’s face was as white as the snow he stood in. Emily dashed up to wrap her arm around his side.
“I’m all right,” he muttered, but he sounded anything but.
He le
aned heavily on her as they stumbled together into the cabin. Once they were inside, she steered him to the sofa, where he collapsed as much as sat down. He leaned his head back, breathing hard from the exertion of the flight.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Emily asked.
“In the bathroom.”
She hurried to fetch it. When she returned, his eyes were shut, but they opened when she sat down beside him.
“Really, I’ll be fine,” he said. “I heal fast. I think it’s because I’m a mon—a griffin.”
Emily didn’t doubt his word, but she was still surprised when she cut away his blood-soaked shirt and found that the wounds on his shoulder and arm were already closing, as if they’d been inflicted days ago rather than less than an hour. She cleaned them with disinfectant and bandaged them with gauze, then dipped a washcloth in warm water and sponged the blood from his arms and chest.
“That feels good,” Gabriel said drowsily.
He was obviously worn out, and Emily hated to worry him. But the sight of his wounds reminded her of what had caused them. “You don’t have a gun, do you? In case of grizzly bears?”
He shook his head. “Wish I did. I always figured I didn’t need one. I mean, I have a griffin.”
“If the dragon comes back...” Emily began.
He clasped her hand reassuringly. “We still have a griffin. And a deadly softball pitcher. Maybe you should collect some more rocks.”
Emily made a face at him, thinking he was joking, but he said, “I’m serious. You knocked that dragon unconscious.”
“Only because I took it by surprise.”
“If it shows up again, it’ll have to fight me again,” Gabriel pointed out. “So maybe you can take it by surprise again.”
Emily doubted that, but she went outside and collected a few softball-sized rocks, bringing some inside and leaving some on the porch within easy reach of the door. When she returned, she found that Gabriel had fallen asleep, his head tilted back and his sensual lips slightly parted.
She sat beside him, cuddling up close. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his body eased her fear. He’d managed to fly even with one wing injured, and he did heal fast. He could protect her.
After a while, she got up, fetched a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over him, and went to his little kitchen. Despite its size, it was well-stocked. She poked through it, thinking of what Gabriel might want to eat when he woke up.
She knew from playing softball how hungry you got after you exerted yourself, and Gabriel’s battle with the dragon and flight home while wounded had to be the equivalent of playing the hardest game of your life, all day for three days straight. And though she hadn’t done anything remotely like he had, she was hungry too. So she’d cook something hearty, filling, and warming.
Emily rubbed a whole chicken with butter and thyme to make the skin crisp up, then stuffed half a lemon inside it. She set it atop of a bed of chopped carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and pearl onions, seasoned with garlic cloves and bits of bacon. The juices of the chicken would drip down as it roasted and flavor the vegetables.
While the chicken and vegetables were roasting, she made enough dough to line two pie pans. One she filled with the rest of the wild berries, then cut out strips of dough to criss-cross over it. For the other pie, she mixed up a filling of egg yolks, brown sugar, and heavy cream.
As she cooked, snow once again began to fall, though not as heavily as it had the day before. Now and then she glanced out the windows, and at Gabriel, peacefully asleep on the couch. Despite the danger and mystery of the dragon attack, she didn’t feel afraid. She couldn’t, with Gabriel around.
And cooking soothed her. It had always been something her mother and she had done together, sometimes creating new dishes, sometimes making old favorites. Which was exactly what she was doing now: the chicken was a recipe passed down from her grandmother, the custard pie was one Emily and her mother had made up, and the berry pie was one she’d created on the spot.
“Something smells delicious,” came a deep voice from behind her.
Emily jumped, then turned to find that Gabriel had padded into the kitchen, his bare feet soundless. He was still shirtless, the bandages a stark white against his tanned chest, but his color was back to normal and his smile was bright. When he reached out to put his arms around her, she could see that while his wounded arm was stiff and clumsy, he could use it without pain.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Starving.” He bent over the pies she’d set out to cool. “What are these?”
“One is mixed wild berries, and one is Lazy Sunday.”
“Lazy Sunday?”
“Mom and I came up with the recipe one lazy Sunday, when we felt like spending the whole day baking,” she said with a grin. “It’s a custard pie, sort of. See if you like it.”
Gabriel took a deep breath. “I already know I will. Thanks for cooking.”
“Any time.” Emily reached up to stroke his cheek. “Thanks for saving my life.”
“Any time,” he assured her. “Though I hope I never have to again.”
“I hope so too. But I bet we haven’t seen the last of that dragon.” Hearing her own words, she added, “And I can’t believe I just said that. Dragons! Griffins! What else is real that I always thought was a fairytale? Unicorns? Mermaids? Pegasuses... pegasi?”
“Got me,” Gabriel replied. “Both ways.”
He took out tableware, and they began to set the table. Gabriel took the chicken out of the oven, and they helped themselves. It was falling-off-the-bone tender and juicy, with crispy skin. The flavorful vegetables were the perfect accompaniment.
Once they’d taken the edge off their hunger, Emily said, “So you didn’t know about dragons before?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, or griffins either. I thought I was the only one in the world. I don’t know where I came from. When I was a baby, I was found in a field in Iowa. No one ever came to claim me, so I was put in foster care. They figured I’d been abandoned. I couldn’t become a griffin until I was older, but there must have been something odd about me that normal people could sense, because I was never adopted. I just got shuffled from one orphanage and set of foster parents to another.”
His eyes were clouded with remembered sadness as he spoke. Emily laid her hand over his. “You must have been so lonely.”
“Yeah. The worst part was not even knowing why nobody wanted me. Then when I was eight, with yet another set of foster parents, I woke up in the middle of the night with this voice in my head telling me to go outside. I snuck out, into the backyard. I’d never been alone outside at night before. This was out in the country, so there were no electric lights in sight, and the night was dark. But the stars were bright. I looked up at them, and I wished I could fly up into them. And I transformed.”
His voice was filled with awe. Emily imagined that little boy in pajamas becoming a magical creature and flying up into the night sky. “What was it like?”
“Wonderful. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have wings and fly under the stars.”
“I wish I could,” Emily said. “It must have been amazing.”
“It was. So amazing that I ignored the voice telling me I’d flown enough. Eventually I wore myself out and had to land where I was. The voice inside me—it’s me, I guess, but it’s the part of me that’s a griffin—told me to change back into a boy. So I did. But I was so tired that I just curled up where I was and went to sleep. I woke up with a bunch of people yelling at me.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. It was my foster family. I was miles away from their home, sleeping in the middle of a field. They’d called the police and everything. I knew not to tell them that I’d turned into a griffin, so I couldn’t convince them that I hadn’t run away. They called me a liar and a troublemaker, and they sent me back to the orphanage.”
“Oh, Gabriel.” Emily squeezed his hand. “But you said flying was wonderful. W
hen did you get the idea that you were a monster?”
“When someone caught me transforming. I was just a kid, and I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. My next foster family had a son of their own, a little older than me, and he woke up when I snuck out and followed me into the backyard. I thought I was alone, so I became a griffin to do some flying. And that’s when I realized he was watching. He started screaming and screaming, absolutely terrified. At first there weren’t any words. Then he started shrieking, ‘A monster! A monster!’”
“How awful.” Emily added, “For him too, obviously. But I meant for you. What a thing to hear!”
Gabriel nodded, the pain of that night still shadowing his eyes. “I changed back before his parents came running out. He was hysterical. They didn’t believe that I was literally a monster, of course, but he was so terrified, they were sure I’d done something horrible. So I got booted back to the orphanage again. I decided that he was right. I was a monster. The one person who’d seen me had been scared out of his mind. And every time anyone even came close to catching me becoming a griffin, the people who’d told me they were my family kicked me out of their home and never contacted me again.”
“Did you ever find a family?”
“No. When I was a little boy, I used to imagine that I had a family like me, who could all turn into griffins, and some day they’d come for me. But they never did. Eventually I gave up on that idea. I figured I was just a freak.”
“You’re the opposite of that,” Emily said. Then, more thoughtfully, she added, “But do you think maybe you do have a griffin family, after all? I mean, if there’s dragons, maybe there’s more griffins too.”
“Maybe,” Gabriel said. “Though who knows if that dragon is even a person who’s also a dragon. It could just be... a dragon.”
“Who knows,” Emily agreed. “But I don’t think so. It seemed intelligent. And I think it’s after me. Now that I’ve gotten a good look at it, I’m pretty sure it’s the same thing that attacked my car.”
“I was wondering about that,” Gabriel said. “Do you think the dragon was your unidentified flying thing, too?”
