Fate of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  For the first time, I see Ian’s smug little smile falter. Slowly, he steps backward, putting Irena between us, like she’s a shield that can save him.

  He’s wrong.

  My magic pulses. It ignites, desperate to protect me, desperate to end whatever threat is attacking us.

  Us.

  Me and this magic within me—my growing dragon—we’re a team.

  And Ian Rixer is going to die for what he’s done to us.

  The six guards cock their guns, still aiming at Irena and waiting for the command to fire. But as I watch them, their resolve is starting to shift. They nervously glance at me, likely wondering how I’m still standing.

  White light skitters over my arms. My torso. My legs. It races across my skin as my magic builds.

  Ian taps a few other buttons on the remote, and the electric pulse somehow gets stronger.

  I groan in pain, swallowing the whimpers of agony as the horrible pain builds. With no other choice but to go forward, I push through it.

  I always push through.

  I never give in.

  I can’t. I don’t know how.

  Several men bang on the door to the hallway, their urgent shouts muffled by the metal door.

  “Rory dear,” Ian says condescendingly. “Don’t make me kill you, now. It would be such a waste.”

  The iron around my wrists cracks. White light streams through, like there’s a blistering sun in each of my palms, and I glare at him.

  Given how Ian’s face contorts into an expression of utter horror, I can only imagine what I look like.

  The guards all hesitate, eyes wide as they realize their time has come.

  With a small boom, the metal around my hands shatters. The pieces fly in every direction like shrapnel, and Jace barely ducks out of the way. A piece crashes into one of Irena’s monitors, but with seven armed men about to kill us, I just can’t worry about that now.

  A few more chunks of metal hit two of the guards square in the face, knocking them out cold. Their guns fire as they hit the ground, and the deafening thunder of gunfire booms through the small space. A dozen bullets hit the wall harmlessly, but one lucky bullet does some of my work for me. One of the remaining four guards goes down, holding his stomach as blood seeps from a bullet wound.

  Three down. Three to go.

  I lift my hands and fire, the pulses of my magic taking out the remaining guards with effortless precision. They dissolve into dust, just like the Knights who attacked me at the middle school.

  Ian frantically turns up a dial on the black remote in his hand and points it at Jace. “I can kill him, Rory. Instantly. If you move, if you so much as raise a hand toward me, he will die.”

  With Irena’s body between me and Ian, I square my shoulders, studying this man who has harassed me for so long, dangled my sister’s life in front of me like a carrot on a stick.

  My magic burns within me, brighter than it ever has, closer to the surface than ever before. Ian tried to break me, tried to kick me to my knees, tried to cripple me entirely—but he only made me stronger.

  And now, the fool would dare threaten to kill Jace, too?

  “Do you still want to know what my limits are, Ian?” I ask with a wry smile as white light blurs across my skin. “How about you and I have a little fun and figure that out.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I think Ian Rixer finally understands the trouble he’s in, and the poor fool doesn’t look like much of a fighter.

  White light sparks along my skin, and I revel in the sheer power that burns through me. It fills me, as warm and doting as an old friend, spurring me on to test my limits.

  “Rory,” Jace says quietly.

  His voice is so distant.

  Like muffled words through water.

  I turn to face him, the world around me bright and muted. He leans against the wall, a concerned expression on his face as he watches me intently.

  He opens his mouth, speaking again, but I can’t hear him.

  My magic—my power—it’s overwhelming. I can’t waste energy trying to figure out what he’s saying. Right now, my magic propels me forward, fueling me with a singular mission.

  Murder.

  Everything in me aches to kill Ian. To rip him to shreds. To watch as this brutal asshole turns to dust.

  But I can’t.

  Not yet.

  And it takes everything in my soul to hold back.

  “Give me the antidote,” I demand, my voice chilling and dark.

  “If you kill me, you’ll never find it.” Ian lifts the remote, his thumb hovering over the button in warning of what he’s about to do to Jace.

  Briefly, I think about destroying that damn remote—it’s the only thing holding me back from throwing Ian around a bit to try to loosen his tongue. I absolutely believe he would be willing to kill Jace, and right now, that’s the only card he has to play.

  Reactively, a bolt of white light shoots from me, like a bullet. It hits the remote with brilliant accuracy, shattering it to pieces.

  Behind me, Jace’s cuffs fall off with a heavy thud, and he groans in relief. I quickly tilt my head to check on him. He stands, joining me, rubbing his wrists as he tries to get the blood flow back to normal.

  Honestly—that was luck, and I don’t like relying on luck. Destroying the remote could just have easily set of an electric shock that killed him, and I didn’t even have time to debate my options.

  For a moment there, my magic had a life of its own.

  There’s a quiet blip of worry in the back of my mind at how instinctive that was. My magic acted on the barest thought, fulfilling a silent wish without me so much as lifting a finger.

  Gritting my teeth, I try to rein the power in a little, but it pushes back. It’s starting to taste its true potential—it doesn’t want me to stop now.

  “You were saying?” I ask Ian condescendingly, masking my concern with a cocky smirk.

  “Don’t do this, Rory dear.” Ian slowly backs up, toward the secret door on the far wall, and I wonder if he’s foolish enough to think it will really work when Drew has this place on lockdown.

  Maybe he’s just desperate enough to try.

  Too bad for him, but I’m done playing. I take a step toward him, and he runs.

  The coward runs.

  He reaches the door and smacks his thumb on a hidden scanner, no doubt trying to open it, but I dart toward him and grab his collar before he has a chance.

  My magic fuels me, giving me strength I shouldn’t have. Lifting him off his feet, I let his Oxfords dangle over the floor as I glare into his eyes. “The antidote, Ian!”

  Fast as lightning, he draws a gun from his waist and aims at Irena. As Jace begins to shout a warning, Ian fires, not bothering to negotiate, knowing full well that his only chance to survive is to keep me distracted.

  I, however, am just a hair faster.

  Instinctively, I tighten my grip on his collar and tilt my body, trying to throw off his aim. His elbow curves, and the bullet digs into the ceiling as the gunshot echoes through the enclosed space.

  But he doesn’t miss a beat.

  He’s ready to fire again.

  This time, he aims at my chest.

  A gunshot thunders through the room.

  He misses my heart, but only barely. The bullet digs into my chest, tunneling through me, ripping me apart from within.

  “Rory!” Jace yells, his voice ripping through the quiet space, laden with panic and fear.

  I drop Ian, and for a moment, he seems to think he’s won. The thunder of Jace’s footsteps stop abruptly when Ian holds his gun toward my head. He looks at the thunderbird, grinning in victory.

  The pain blistering through my chest is agonizing, but I can’t let myself stop. Not now. Not when we’re so close to victory.

  The magic eggs me on, numbing the pain, urging me to finish this.

  As white light continues to shimmer over my skin, barely contained, I grab his neck with one hand and
the barrel of his gun with the other. His eyes go wide, and it’s clear he thought I was down for the count.

  That mistake will cost him his life.

  “Give. Me. The. Antidote. You. Fucking. Asshole,” I say between agonizingly painful breaths.

  My hand tightens around his neck, my fingers pinching his veins and windpipe, ready to end this in whatever way I can.

  “You won’t get anything from me,” he says, grabbing my wrist, his manicured nails digging into my skin. He draws blood, but I don’t care.

  “Last chance,” I warn.

  “Go to hell,” he says, the whites of his eyes starting to slowly turn red as I cut off his air supply. He laughs manically, the last shreds of his composure dissolving as he realizes he’s going to die. “I’ll save you a seat when I get there.”

  “Have it your way.”

  If he won’t give me the information I need, I’ll find it myself. His entire compound belongs to me, now—with Drew in the security center, I have free reign.

  I pour my magic into my palm, letting it seep from me into the man who has tormented me just for the hell of it.

  He’ll get my magic… just not in the way he wanted.

  Ribbons of white light burn beneath his skin. His eyes go wide, his mouth opening as if he wants to scream, but nothing comes out. He just watches me, astonished, as my magic surges within him.

  So close to having my power to himself—and yet so far. To taste it, but never wield it.

  Seems like a fitting end.

  The ribbons of white light begin to multiply until they cover his entire body. With a quiet little sigh, he stops fighting. The magic finally consumes him completely. He goes limp in my hand and dissolves into light, the weight from his body in my grip slowly dissolving into nothing.

  As the last of him fades, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. What a shame.

  Ian Rixer was brutal, cruel, sadistic, and manipulative. He tried so hard to kill my sister. To kill Jace. To kill me. He burned and abused everyone around him until there was nothing left for him to take, and then he discarded them. It was just his way—to him, every living thing existed merely to serve him in some fashion.

  It feels almost wasteful to give such a beautiful ending to such an ugly soul.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Rory,” a man says, his voice echoing.

  Strange.

  I know that voice.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, the world around me spinning and bright. Something pulses within me, radiant and overwhelming, stunning and marvelous.

  And powerful.

  “Rory,” the voice says again, a little clearer this time.

  I feel the soothing touch of warm hands, and though the world around me is startlingly bright, I squint until I see the dim outline of a face. Strong jaw. Blond hair. Stormy gray eyes.

  As his fingers brush against my palms, my pulse slowly begins to settle. His touch soothes the blistering white light within me, calming it until I can see again. Think again.

  I feel my feet touch the floor before I even realize I was hovering in the air. Instantly, I’m thrown off balance, and I fall into him. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight and letting me rest against his hard body as I groggily come to.

  The last few ribbons of white light fizzle away like water in a desert, and I’m left with an overwhelming exhaustion and a sharp pain in my chest. I want to sleep, for days if possible, and it’s a struggle to even keep my eyes open.

  “Can you hear me?” Jace asks quietly.

  I weakly lift my chin and nod. “What—did I go somewhere?”

  He chuckles. “You were floating a bit, but nothing crazy.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. Rubbing my face, I look around the room, trying to get my bearings. Irena still lays on the metal bed in the center of the room, one of the monitors shattered above her. Several soldiers lay dead on the floor. And Ian—

  Beside me, a small pile of white dust is all that remains of the brutal asshole.

  The thud of fists on the door to the hallway catches my attention, and very quickly, I remember everything still at stake.

  A sharp and agonizing bolt of pain shoots through my chest, and I grimace as I hold a hand over the bullet wound. “Damn it.”

  “You’re okay,” Jace says quickly, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well as me. He sets his hands on either side of my head, intently scanning my eyes for signs of shock, probably. “You’re holding up great.”

  “Was that a compliment?” I ask weakly, grinning at my stupid joke. “Isn’t that three in the same day? Do I have to start paying for these?”

  He laughs. “Hang in there. We’re almost out of the woods.”

  “Or the compound, rather,” I say, slurring a little and still rather woozy.

  Apparently, I tell terrible jokes when exhausted. Note to self—try not to talk when I get this way.

  There’s a sharp thud on the other side of the hidden door in the wall, and I instinctively lift my fists, ready to fight whatever comes through.

  More soldiers, maybe. Guns. Hell, maybe a dragon or two.

  When fighting the Vaer, any horrible thing I can imagine coming through that door is probably possible.

  The jolt of adrenaline clears my head a little, helping me prepare for the fight. However, I don’t know if I can access my magic again—not after an episode like that.

  With another rough thud, the door swings open, and Tucker stands in the hallway in a full military stealth suit, covered head to toe in guns. A few of the holsters are missing their weapons, and I imagine he’s had to use quite a few of them to get this far.

  “That thing is heavy as hell,” he snaps, gesturing over his shoulder at the portable medic tube Jace secured for Irena. “It’s like pushing a food truck uphill.”

  I squint at him in confusion, a little caught off guard. “That’s… oddly specific.”

  “Happy, Jace?” Tucker says, spreading his arms as if he just finished a magic trick. “I didn’t leave you high and dry. Guess not all Knights are assholes, huh?”

  “Come on, you two,” Jace snaps, ignoring Tucker’s jibe and grabbing the handle at the front of the advanced medical gurney. He lugs it toward Irena’s bed and begins studying the various IVs hooked up to her.

  As he examines her, I anxiously scan the gurney while Tucker keeps watch at the secret entrance. It reminds me of a glass coffin with a few blue screens slapped on the front of it, and goosebumps cover my arms at the thought.

  “Good. We can do this.” Jace pulls three of the IVs out of her, leaving only the saline solution. “Lift the lid, Rory.”

  I oblige him and unlock the top of the advanced gurney. It hisses and slowly lifts open, giving us plenty of space to slide my sister inside.

  Together, Jace and I lift Irena and get her situated, hooking the saline solution to the inside of the lid. As we close the lid to seal her inside, a massively heavy thud rails against the door to the hallway, and I suspect we’re about out of time.

  “Can you guys get on with it?” Drew snaps over the loudspeaker.

  “It’s kind of a delicate process,” Jace snaps back, his voice loud and irritated. “But by all means, keep distracting me!”

  Tucker whistles urgently, ushering us into the tunnels. “They’re about two minutes from breaking down that door. We have to go.”

  “Did you bring the coms?” I ask Tucker as the gurney finally seals itself. A small blue screen at the foot of the wheeled table pops to life, and I get a glimpse of a heart rate monitor as it beeps in steady rhythm.

  “Here,” he says, tossing me two of them.

  Jace and I each grab one and place it in our ears as we wheel Irena toward the tunnel.

  “…and this place is swarming,” Drew says into the comm.

  “Rory, take point on the gurney,” Jace says, snatching a rifle from Tucker’s back.

  “Hey!” Tucker says, annoyed. “I’m not a walking weapons rack! Ask first, ma
n!”

  Ignoring their banter, I grab the handles at the back of Irena’s gurney and push her down the hall, her eerily pale face haunting me as we descend into the dark tunnels below the Vaer compound.

  “Engaging lock,” Drew says in my ear.

  Behind me, the door to the sparse medic ward slams shut on its own, and a massive deadbolt slides across the door, sealing it.

  I smirk. Good luck getting through that.

  “Drew, we still need the antidote,” I say, following Jace and Tucker as they lead the way through the tunnels.

  “I’ve been looking,” Drew says absently, like he’s managing twenty things at once. “There’s a research lab not far from you that might have a few vials. I’ll guide you there.”

  For the next few minutes, we race through the tunnels to the sound of Drew cussing under his breath and guiding us through the halls.

  “There,” he snaps. “I see you on the cameras. That’s the door.”

  I wheel the medic gurney to a stop and lean against the door, listening for signs of movement. Several machines whir to life, and the muffled conversation of a few people debating something filters through.

  “Drew, how many people are in there?” I ask.

  “Four. All scientists. Eight soldiers stand out in the hall, probably guarding it from you, but I can lock them out.”

  Good.

  I can work with that.

  “Here’s the plan,” Jace says quietly. “Tucker, stay here with the gurney. Rory—”

  With all the remaining fury still left in my chest, I grab a handgun from Tucker’s waist and kick open the door.

  It bangs violently against the wall, and I lift the gun toward the first face I see as I enter. “You’re going to hand me my sister’s antidote, and you’re going to do it now.”

  Drew sighs through the comm. “Engaging lock on the research lab’s door…”

  Four wide-eyed scientists in white lab coats stare at me like deer stuck in headlights.

  “Now!” I snap, trying to shake them from their dazes.

  They know damn well who I am and what I’m talking about.