by Leela Ash
“You did it first!” she sniffed back.
Lily stepped around them to retrieve her gun. “Yeah, kick his ass,” she muttered. “He’s got it coming.”
The rest of the Shifters wandered in, still uneasy. “Okay,” Donnelly sighed, “are we officially back to the ‘No One Dies Today’ plan?”
“We are,” a chastised Jordan promised.
Lucas, the Aegis’ guardian, retrieved the little shield – then frowned and held it up for all to see. “Uh, guys? Check this out.”
A fifth figure filled the final gap. A skeletal Dragon – drawn in blood, not ink.
The drop of blood that had fallen from Jordan’s fingertip.
“What the hell?” Donnelly’s wonder was reflected on the faces of the other Shifters.
Yet, to Savannah, it made sense. “The best lies have a kernel of truth in their hearts. Maybe you didn’t need to die – but you had to be willing to sacrifice yourself.” Swelling with pride, she snuggled against him, reveling in his dazed, delighted smile.
The Aegis had chosen him.
Jordan Beaumont was now officially one of the ‘good guys.’
A long and painful road lay ahead of him. No doubt, there were tons of terrible sins for which he needed to atone.
But she would be there, by his side. Lending him her strength when his failed.
It was beautiful, the proudest moment of her life.
Until three gasps of horror shattered it.
Donnelly, Griffin, and Lucas all staggered, shock flashing across their faces.
“I have to go!” The Dragon spun toward the door – and collided with the Wolf and Chimera.
“Maddie!” Griffin gasped. Wings were already sprouting from his shoulders, as if his soul – a winged golden lion – planned to burst through the wall.
“Ash is in trouble!” Lucas howled. Fur had burst out along his face and arms, like a werewolf from some old movie.
Before the three men could go spilling out into the desert, Briggs bellowed, “HOLD! Think, fools! You cannot simply run off to them. They are not near.”
The urge to defend a Mate was the strongest force a Shifter could know. Briggs’ advice was good – but almost impossible for them to heed. Lucas Shifted fully, snarling with rage at the horned Dragon. Donnelly and Griffin managed to hold themselves back. Barely.
Savannah’s heart raced. She and Lily – two other Mates – were all right. The Wolf Princess turned to Rex. “Omega okay?”
The name confused her, but not the Bear. “Paige is fine.”
Oh, right. ‘Omega’ was a Wolf nickname for the smallest member of the Pack. Lily must be a friend of the Bear’s Mate.
Faced with chaos and confusion, Jordan’s natural urge to lead came to the fore. “You three. Where are your Mates? We need to figure out what could threaten all of them at once.”
Three Shifters spun and pointed in the same direction: northwest.
“Are they at Stillwater?”
Stillwater. The name sent a chill down Savannah’s spine. That was the remote Navajo village which guarded the main gate to the realm of the demon lord Nemagorix.
Men (and Wolf) nodded. Briggs swore softly. “Too far. I will get a helicopter for us. That will be quicker.”
“Any phones there?” Jordan asked. “Some way to get in touch?”
Briggs shook his head.
Then they would fly in blind. Because nothing would keep three Shifters away when their Mates were in danger.
Perhaps the Fangs (or their secret Darkborn masters) had assaulted the gate. Savannah almost hoped that was true, because the alternative was worse: That, somehow, Nemagorix knew when the Aegis chose Jordan. The demon could sense its bane, the only thing that could bind it, was whole once more.
If that was true, the final battle had just begun.
Chapter 17.
Five seats. Eight people. That was the best helicopter Briggs could find on short notice.
Jordan and the two Dragons crouched in the middle of the floor. They were the strongest Shifters; if they got tossed about, it wouldn’t hurt them. That left the seats (and seat belts) to the more ‘delicate’ people. Wolves, Chimera, Bear…
And Savannah. Jordan glared at her, furious that she was even there.
“Stop it,” she scowled back, completely impervious to his most domineering glower.
“You should have stayed in Sedona. You’re going to distract me.”
“Then you need to control your self.”
“There’s nothing you can do. You’re not even a Shifter.”
The moment those words slipped from his lips, he hated himself. That was the chink in Savannah’s armor, the ‘flaw’ that made her doubt herself. How could he attack her in such an underhanded way?
I must. I need to keep her safe – even if it means hurting her.
Unfortunately, not even a low blow helped his case. Breaking free of Todd Manning had strengthened her confidence. “Jordan, I’m a trained agent. I’ll be fine.”
“Have you had martial arts or self-defense training?”
“I don’t plan on running up to any demons and punching them in the nose.” Bulky body armor swathed her graceful form and she patted the gun holstered by her side. “I’ll keep my distance and use this.”
His fear, his agony, must have shown on his face because, for a moment, her indignation faded. She reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It will be okay. I’ll help where I can, but trust me, I’m not going to barge into the middle of things. I know my limits.”
Hard as it was, he would have to trust her. To be honest, he’d lost this battle the moment the helicopter took off. With three Mates in danger, they were not turning around. Dumping Savannah in the middle of the desert wasn’t an option either.
No, she was going with him, into the storm.
Literally.
An enormous thunder cloud towered in the distance. Black clouds etched by flashes of lightning rose thousands of feet into the air. Somewhere beneath it lay Stillwater, a handful of trailers and stone huts miles from any paved road.
Nemagorix was there too. In the heart of that maelstrom.
Beads of sweat ran down their pilot’s face. He served the Flight of the Snows, but the man wasn’t a soldier. On a normal workday, he simply whisked Dragons from one private airport to another. Flying straight into the mouth of a storm wasn’t part of his job description. “How close is this town to that thing?”
“At its base,” Briggs warned. “Perhaps even inside its edge.”
“I can’t fly into that.”
“I understand. Get us as close as you can.”
Pressed against Savannah’s legs, Jordan turned his thoughts to their problem. What would they face in Stillwater?
Darkborn, certainly. Nemagorix had nearly slipped its bonds a couple weeks ago. That attack unleashed a slew of possessing spirits. Deranged elementals were another threat, though he hoped that most of them had been destroyed during the last assault. Other vile creatures dwelled in Nemagorix’s realm. In an all-out attack, they might pour into this world too.
A depressing thought. But was it all they needed to worry about?
No. Better than any other Shifter, Jordan knew that. The Fangs had done their best to weed the Darkborn out of their ranks – but that job was far from done.
If there’s a compromised cell nearby, we could be facing both Nemagorix and the Fangs of Apophis.
So, what was close? He mourned his laptop, left back at the resort. Without it, he struggled to remember the locations of the Fang enclaves in the south-west. Death Valley had been purged… it should be clean. Dry Lake could be a threat, except it was too far away. Blanding?
Blanding was a problem. It housed a rapid response team – and had no review in the last year, as far as he knew. Worse, that team was expected to face attacks from the Flight of the Snows. Which meant it was prepared to take on Dragons.
A former Fang, Jordan knew exactly what that meant.<
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“Pilot. Keep an eye out for other helicopters,” he called out, raising his voice to be heard above the rotors’ whine.
His words roused Donnelly from his brooding for one moment. “Fangs?”
“Yes. The Blanding outpost isn’t far. They’re equipped with a half dozen choppers with air-to-air missiles. They can fly circles around a little recreational copter like this one.”
“And blow it to shrapnel. Thanks for the warning,” the Dragon replied.
Their pilot didn’t share his appreciation. Sweat went from a trickle to a steady stream down his cheeks. Despite his fear, though, he wasn’t the one who spotted the attack when it came.
Jordan felt it, a flash of fear that snapped him into battle readiness.
Our Mate… danger…
Briggs jolted to his feet at the same moment. “Incoming!” Jordan bawled. Anger seethed within him, a powerless fury that was alien to him. There was nothing he could do to protect his Mate. If this helicopter was shot out of the sky, he might survive.
Savannah would not. Not even if he tried to shield her with his own body.
He was failing her.
Because I drove my Dragon mad. Because I let myself become so corrupt that it chewed its wings off.
But Donnelly and Briggs possessed what he lacked. At his cry, the big Dragon yanked open the helicopter door. Wind whipped violently around him. “We’ll take care of the Fangs,” he shouted. “Meet you in town.”
With that, the two men threw themselves into the air. Falling, falling… then, in a burst of light and magic, they Shifted. Two Dragons rose into the air, black and white. Together, they surged ahead as the helicopter slowed.
Just in time. Four choppers streaked up from the ground. Four sets of missiles fired.
“Down!” Jordan roared at the pilot. “Get us lower!”
Faster than the eye could follow, those deadly missiles shot toward them. Honing in on their defenseless aircraft…
Until two enormous gouts of fire flashed through the air, weaving a molten shield. The missiles slammed into it and exploded.
The blast nearly flipped their little chopper. Jordan went sailing across the floor as their pilot screamed in terror. His hand flailed out and caught the edge of Savannah’s chair in a death grip, just before he went sailing out the open door.
Let’s not test whether Worms are as tough as Dragons…
Righting at last, the chopper plunged toward the ground. Overhead, blasts of fire and machine guns rang out. Another explosion, and suddenly, burning shrapnel and bits of twisted metal rained past them.
Direct hit on one of our enemies.
And here he sat. Useless. Relying on a mortal pilot to save his Mate.
He should be out there with Briggs and Donnelly. Destroying his enemies. Lord of the air, master of the skies.
A Dragon.
But he wasn’t. He was a Worm, a wing-less thing that couldn’t shield his Mate from−
Soft yet strong, Savannah’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Stop it. You’re beating yourself up again. I can see it on your face.”
They nearly got blown out of the sky… and she wanted to comfort him?
Of course, she does. She’s my Mate.
She was but she was also Bear Kin, and Bears didn’t baby their loved ones. They were as tough, and as honest, as they needed to be. “It took you centuries to dig this hole, Jordan. Don’t expect to hop out of it with one good day. Just keep trying. You’ll get there.”
Down they dropped, as war raged overhead. Their pilot skimmed low across the ground, cacti and rocks whipping past.
He could shield Savannah if they crashed. That sense of helplessness, so alien and terrible, receded. As it did, something inside him calmed.
My Dragon. Or what’s left of it.
How many years had it been since it last spoke to him? Long enough that he thought it dead.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a true Shifter. To have a second spirit, another soul, joined to you.
Savannah was right. It would take time to climb out of the hole he’d dug.
Ahead, stony pillars jutted high into the sky. Stillwater, a tiny collection of huts and trailers, lay at their base. Somewhere, a small path wove through those rock walls into the tiny dell they hid in. A clearing that held the pond that gave Stillwater its name.
And the gate to Nemagorix’s prison.
No rain fell from the storm that boiled above them, but a gloom crept over the land as they passed under its shadow, riven only by the bolts of lightning that streaked across the sky. Gusts slammed the chopper, tossing it about like a toy plane.
“I’ve got to land!” the pilot shrieked.
“Do so then!” Jordan shouted back.
A half mile to the town, he stole a quick glance at Savannah, who fidgeted with her body armor. He and the other Shifters could cross that distance with ease. But her? In armor she’d never worn? A half mile ought to slow her down nicely.
Good. Anything to keep her safe. Even leaving her behind was fine by him.
With a jolt, the helicopter scraped to a halt. The moment it touched ground, Shifters tore free of their seat belts, spilling out into the desert and Shifting.
“Let’s clear the village first,” Jordan began. “The five of us…”
Griffin Shifted into a hawk and flew off without even bothering to hear the rest.
“Guess that makes four of us,” he muttered. Not that any of them could blame the Chimera. His Mate was somewhere in that chaos, in mortal danger. Frankly, Jordan was amazed that Lucas was keeping his shit together.
Maybe his Mate isn’t in as much danger as Griffin’s…
“Let’s go.”
Once more, he called to his Shifter soul… and it answered. Black scales wrapped his body in almost impenetrable armor. Lethal claws and fangs appeared, ready to shred his enemies. Perhaps it was his imagination, but his wings seemed stronger, less tattered.
Not strong enough to fly, however. Jordan tucked them tight against his flanks and led the charge on Stillwater.
Two Wolves streaked through the scrub to his right. Fairburn, a great Kodiak, charged with shocking speed on his left. Given how large Bears were, it was easy to forget they could sprint faster than a horse.
But the possessed Fangs in town only had one target: Jordan. The Worm. Even a fallen Dragon was a foe few mortals (or Shifters) dared to face. Rifle bullets hit first, from snipers hiding somewhere in the hills. They pinged harmlessly off the scales around his eyes. Lily and Lucas split off from the main charge, hunting the shooters. One bullet hit his eye directly. It stung – like getting snapped by a rubber band. At this distance, though, even his eyes were too tough for their weapons. Jordan ignored them. Let the Wolves handle that threat.
Somewhere far behind them, Savannah ran as fast as she could. His Worm… no, his crippled Dragon… gave no warnings for her safety. She was far enough back that she faced no danger.
Just as he’d hoped.
Nearer to town, the first true threat was revealed: A machine gun nest. A hail of armor-piercing bullets sprayed across the desert. Fairburn peeled off, forcing the Fangs to choose one target. Him, or the Bear.
All of them chose him, of course. A mercenary stood a chance against a Bear that closed in on him. A Worm? None. Sharp stings raked across his body as the bullets hit him. They hurt – but he welcomed that pain. It was clean, burning away his self-doubt and guilt. The past no longer mattered. Jordan was here, now, fighting the good fight. Protecting his Mate.
Being a Dragon, not a Worm.
No lesser pain, no mere bullets, could stop him.
One man stepped up near the machine gun and raised a long, heavy tube to his shoulder. Details blurred at this distance, but Jordan recognized it at once.
A T4 rocket. Strong enough to take out tanks.
Or Dragons.
His human mind screamed to dodge. But, for once, he wasn’t the master of his own body. He had summoned his Dra
gon, and it had answered. Jordan Beaumont might fear mortal weapons. His Dragon, however, trusted its own strength. It, not some human with a big stick, reigned supreme in battle.
And so, it charged straight on, ignoring Jordan as he fought to seize control. When the missile flew toward him, it opened its jaws wide and breathed.
If he’d truly been a Dragon, that would have sent a wave of fiery death washing over his foes. They and their impudent weapon would be incinerated. But Worms couldn’t breathe. Fire, like air, was denied them. Jordan’s last thought was a silent, bitter laugh at the foolishness of his Dragon.
Until a small puff of flame hiccupped out of his maw. Not the great, lethal stream of a full Dragon – but enough to detonate the missile in front of his face.
The blast, though, hit him like a freight truck. With a world-ending roar, it flipped him backward. He was spinning, flailing… and slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
Not hard enough to stop him. Jordan rose heavily and shook his head as bullets continued to rain down on him. Once more, he staggered forward, growing faster, steadier, as he ran.
Any sane man would flee him. Possessed by the Darkborn, the Fangs didn’t have that option. They stood and fought… and died. There was no mercy he could show them. As long as its host lived, a Darkborn could remain in this world – and seek to possess another creature.
Even one as powerful as a Dragon.
So, Jordan killed them all. They died beneath his claws, his fangs, and vicious lashes of a tail which could shatter every bone in a man’s body. Dimly, he saw Fairburn fighting, no more gentle than he.
Seconds later, the lopsided battle was over. With snipers dispatched, Lucas and Lily galloped up. Briggs and Donnelly dropped from the sky to join them. Only Griffin was gone, seeking his Mate.
Even poor Savannah staggered into camp, out of breath and too late to fight. He prayed she’d forgive him when this was all done.
Though it’s an important lesson for her. She needs to understand that – physically – we are not equal.
