by Zoe Chant
“It might not be a fire,” he said. “There’s other things that can trigger the alarm. Get what you can on and stay behind me. We left the blaster back in the kitchen, so let’s get to that fast.”
She had been in too much of a hurry to think about self-defense. “Do you think it’s the other dragons?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I think so.” He glanced back at her. “You ready?” He’d pulled his pants together, but had kept his shirt off. I suppose he can turn back into a dragon whenever he wants to.
“I’m ready,” she said. She’d decided to just put on as many clothes as she could as they walked.
“Let’s get back to the kitchen first. Then you’ll have Zed in hand.”
She nodded. She hooked her bra back on as they walked, then started on the long underwear. She had that over her head by the time they got back to the table and their half-eaten lasagna. She walked to the counter and grabbed the blaster, draping her remaining clothes over her other arm. “How can you tell where the problem is?”
“There’s different tones,” he said. “You’ll learn, eventually—” His eyes went wide, and he threw an arm around her waist. On instinct, she froze, waiting for him to move.
Over the sound of the music that was still playing in the kitchen, she could hear a dragon’s claws scraping against the marble surface of the stairs. Was there just one, or were there more?
Five minutes ago, she’d been the most contented she’d ever been. Now her heart was pounding all over again, tension rising in her chest. She took Brad’s arm and pointed: up or down?
He drew in the air with his thumb, dipping it down and moving quickly up.
So they were coming from downstairs. She wiggled her fingers: one or two?
He held up two fingers.
She dropped her t-shirt and pulled her sweater over her head. She wanted to be warm enough to not be distracted, and she wasn’t going to waste time putting on all her layers. She had to be ready.
“So the good news,” he murmured, “is there’s probably not a fire. Just—these guys. I think they probably broke in on the lower level, where the—”
He froze again, his hand steady on her arm. Rachel made sure she had a solid grip on the blaster.
He looked back at her, then pointed—behind the counter. “I’ve got this. You stay back.”
“Are you—”
He pointed again, nodding, reassuring her that he would be all right.
They had to know she was there; if they could hear the claws, the dragons could hear her. But out of sight would mean they wouldn’t be trying to hurt her when Brad confronted them. She went ahead and crouched behind the kitchen counter. She could still listen, anyway.
She heard the sound of Brad’s transformation, heard his wings shake out. She could see the top of his wings over the counter, broad and leathery. She had time now to look at their golden color. He was so strong. But there were two of them, and just one of him. Rachel wished Doug had come already, that they weren’t all trapped by the storm.
But she had the blaster, at least. That could at least buy them time.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe some kind of growl, any kind of communication—but instead, she saw the first dragon, whose wings were blue-black, leap onto Brad without a sound. They grappled almost silently for a few seconds, and all Rachel could hear was claws scrabbling on stone and the furious flapping of wings. They crashed into the kitchen island, and the whole room shook. Something—it might have been the mixer—crashed hard to the floor.
Then the second dragon joined in the fight. His wings were pale green. At least I can tell them apart, she thought. But she couldn’t see anything else, just the wings appearing and disappearing over the edge of the counter. She could hear the noises of their struggle. The angle she was in and the tight space they were in made it hard to tell who might be winning or losing. They couldn’t be too old—they were both around Brad’s size. That hopefully meant they weren’t any stronger than Brad, either.
I can’t just stay here and hope for the best, she thought. She had to at least try to take a better look.
She pulled her legs underneath her, so she could be in a crouch. That would make it easier for her to move fast if she needed to. Then she let her eyes peek over the countertop. They were still fighting—there was no way they’d have time to go searching for her, not yet. And if they did see her, that was what the blaster was for. A gun would have scared her, but the blaster wouldn’t kill them, wouldn’t even really hurt them. She knew she could pull the trigger if she had to.
Dragons moved fast, and fought fast. It was hard to keep track of the blurring wings and claws. She kept an eye out for color, as it was the easiest way to tell who Brad was. But she couldn’t say if he was winning or not. Brad hadn’t thought to warn her about how fast dragons could be. She was too slow to try to help anyone in a fight, even if she wanted to. She could only watch the struggle.
And then they suddenly dropped from her sight, and she could hear the thundering sounds as at least one dragon fell down the stairs, the others in hot pursuit. Had it been Brad that fell, or one of the attackers?
She could hear the roaring and crashing fade, but it was clear the fighting wasn’t slowing down. She might not be able to tell who was winning, but she knew Brad hadn’t lost yet. She wished she could cheer him on.
One of the dragons made a harsh, loud cry, so sharp it almost hurt her ears. It wasn’t Brad, but she wasn’t able to tell which of the other men it was. Were they trying to communicate with one another? Or was it an attempt to intimidate?
If she’d been alone, Rachel would have felt plenty intimidated, that was for sure. Hell, she still did.
But she couldn’t let Brad fight alone. She tightened her grip on the gun and started down the stairs.
The climb down hadn’t seemed as long or lonely when she’d been with Brad, that was for sure. She tried to keep her steps as quiet as she could—she was grateful for her lack of shoes—but she was sure if the dragons hadn’t been so busy fighting, they could hear her.
She stopped for a second on a landing to catch her breath. How far down was she? Was she even going to be able to help Brad? They’d tried to kill her, and now they were attacking—
Her mate.
Rachel realized she felt the bond as strongly as Brad said he did, as strongly as her love of the mountains and her sister. Brad was hers.
And she was going to protect him.
Even if she wasn’t sure how yet.
She hurried down the rest of the stairs, pushing her fear aside and ignoring the ache in her legs.
The three dragons were still grappling as she made it into the big space, their wings beating the air and blowing back her hair. It was almost like a gentle breeze, if the crashing and chaos wasn’t so frightening. There wasn’t much cover there, but there was an old car that she managed to duck behind. She didn’t have time to wonder how it got there, but she filed the question away for later.
Brad was on top of the black dragon, with the green dragon hovering behind, waiting for an opening.
The black dragon lunged for Brad’s throat, and Rachel had to bite back a scream. Brad was ready for the attack, though, rolling his body around just in time to deflect the dragon’s fangs, landing heavily on the stone floor. Brad’s own wings folded and unfolded, catching the air and lending power to his attack. The black dragon stumbled, thrown off-balance by Brad’s response. They were less than a foot away from each other, but it gave Brad time to get off the floor. His tail swung around in a dangerous, powerful movement, crashing into the dragon’s face. The dragon skidded across the floor, landing almost on the old car giving Rachel cover. Rachel realized that it was just a little smaller than the car itself—bigger than Brad or the green dragon.
He’s winning! Rachel felt relief flood through her. Still, he wouldn’t be out of the woods yet. And what would they do when the fight was over?
The black dragon was clearly
stunned. That let Brad give the greenish dragon his full attention. With only one opponent now, Rachel could better understand the fight, and could tell that the green dragon wasn’t as strong as Brad, though they were close to equal in speed. Brad’s blows landed with greater weight, and he soon had the advantage, landing several strong punches to the green dragon with his front claws (Arms? Were they arms, when you were a dragon?).
The black dragon raised his head, and Rachel felt as much as saw the beginning of the flame.
Her instincts took over: she didn’t know for sure how flameproof the lair was, but she didn’t even think that clearly. She just acted, coming out from the cover of the old car and shooting the black dragon just once, as closely as she dared.
It wasn’t until the dragon howled in pain, his image shimmering from dragon to human and back again, that she fully realized she had pulled the trigger.
And that the dragons still engaged in the fight were looking straight at her.
She dove back behind the car, a tongue of hot flame blazing over the counter as she went, her muscles screaming in protest. She didn’t move that fast outside cardio class, and in class she did a warmup first.
She put her back to the metal and tried to catch her breath. She could still hear the dragons fighting. Was it her imagination, or were the blows harder now?
Rachel wanted to take another look, but a second spurt of flame over her head kept her where she was. She might have an anti-magic weapon, but it wouldn’t matter if the dragon set her arm on fire before she could shoot it. She had to be careful not to let the metal at her back get too hot, either.
The fight ended with something—someone—crashing into the car, so hard this time that she felt the impact of the metal on her back.
She froze, too scared to move.
Then, to her relief, she heard a familiar voice.
“Are you all right?” Brad asked.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m…you’re all right?”
“Yes,” he said. “I need your help, though.”
She got up. The black dragon was on the ground, unmoving. “Is he—”
“They’re both alive, which is why I need you,” he said. “We need to get these guys secure.”
“Okay,” she said. “Tell me what I need to do.” She walked closer to the black dragon, carefully. His eyes were closed. He still looked like a dragon but he seemed…thinner, somehow. Like a photocopy instead of an original drawing. “Did that hurt him?”
“Yeah,” he said, not particularly concerned. “He’ll live. You remember where the—blaster was, where you got it?”
“Yes,” she said. Brad was kneeling, holding an unfamiliar weapon to the neck of the green dragon. The green dragon’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving at all. It was hard to tell if he was even breathing.
“Down here, it’s…basically a similar system. There’s some heavy cord in that cupboard by the stairs. We’re going to get these two secure.”
“This—this isn’t common, right? Like…this doesn’t happen regularly or anything?”
He shook his head. “We all get trained on it, but it’s like a fire drill at school. I…wouldn’t have ever told you this kind of thing happened, honestly. We’ll have to wait for my uncle to come here to get any answers, but we can at least keep ourselves safe.”
The cupboard had ski equipment, some basic tools, nothing too unfamiliar, though the shelves stretched far over her head. Over to the right, though, was an opaque container that didn’t look like any cleaning product she’d ever seen. She reached for it, and then through it, the way she had the countertop. Inside was a thick cord that felt soft as silk. Of course, silk’s strong, too. She pulled the whole box out and set it on the floor next to the car. “Do I just…pull it out?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s start with this guy, while the big black one’s taking a nap.”
“Fighting two at once must have been hard.”
He glanced at her. “I’ve had worse, honestly. They’re both untrained, but the one you took down—he’s strong as hell. I got a lucky shot in with him, and then you came in, made things a lot easier for me. That little knife you saw, that’s…well, my magic, I guess you’d call it.” He sighed. “My dad’s gonna flip when he sees what happened to his car.”
“You’re going to have to tell me what an old Model A’s doing here,” she said, digging into the box until she got her hand on the end of the cord. “So…we just tie them up? Like we’re gonna hook them to the railroad tracks?”
He laughed. “More or less. Hands and feet…well. Front and back legs. They won’t be able to change form once they’re secured with that cord.” Brad stepped back a little from the green dragon, but kept his blade directly at his throat. “Try not to touch me with the cord. It won’t hurt me, but it won’t feel great.”
“Got it,” she said. “No touching. Um…I’m not much of a knot-tier.”
“You don’t have to be a great one,” he said. “The cord has some magic attached, you probably already figured that out. And I can coach you through it.”
She nodded. “What’s this made out of? It feels like silk.”
“It is,” he said. “With a little enchantment added. No dragon’s going to be able to tear through it.” He shifted his weight a little, and the dragon’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry,” Brad told him. “I won’t hurt you. I know how to use this.”
“Did he have it?”
Brad shook his head. “This is mine. I keep it in my back pocket—normally it’s just a pocketknife, but it’s been enchanted to protect the lair. Anyone who means harm to anyone in the family—it hurts like burning, and that’s just for starters. Kind of a weapon of last resort, but that’s where we’re at.”
She kneeled down and started spooling cord over the dragon’s…well, wrists seemed like a close enough word. “Do I need to worry about cutting off his circulation or anything?”
He considered. “Maybe. Tie it securely, not tightly, just in case. This…isn’t something that comes up a lot.”
“That’s good,” she said.
“True,” he said. “Let me see the knot.”
She’d tied a simple knot, the kind she used when she tied her shoes. The dragon’s wrists were thicker than a human’s, making it harder to see the transition from the end of his hands to the muscles in his arms. Still, there was enough of a wrist there that she could tie him securely.
“Tug it, make sure he’s not moving,” he said. “And then loop the free end of the rope around a couple of times and I’ll have you make a second knot.”
“Okay.”
He talked her through knotting the dragon’s wrists together again with a different knot. Then Rachel tied the dragon’s feet. They saved the wings for last, finally securing hands, wings and feet together with one length of cord. “That’ll hold him for a while,” he said, putting the knife down. “Let’s get to the big guy. I’ll hold the knife again, in case he starts waking up.”
“So you—train for fights?” she asked, as she was tying the black dragon’s wrists together.
“Yeah, but it’s like basic self-defense, like learning karate at the corner dojo or something. Well, I learned karate too. But we learn how to fight as dragons, and we used to spar all the time anyway—we were kids, mostly boys, so we had a lot of energy we wanted to get out, and we could only play some team sports.”
“Why only some?” She pulled the second knot tight and went to work on the dragon’s ankles.
“We’re strong,” he said. “So it’s not really a fair advantage in some things. Basketball, strength doesn’t matter as much, but football, it kind of gets obvious. Being fair’s—well, it’s important to the clan. I did a lot of kata work in karate, but I didn’t do much hand-to-hand fighting. We’re only really faster than humans in dragon form, so it was okay to do that, or basketball. There’s actually a big debate among the clans over whether we should play baseball and softball or not.” He grinned. “We can’t h
it the ball more accurately, but we can sure hit it hard and fast.”
“Did you play?”
He shook his head. “Our clan said no baseball or softball. I ran track, and I watched Yankees games. My brothers and sister played basketball, too, but it was too loud for me.”
“Is that a dragon thing?”
“It’s a me thing. I like the quiet.”
“I do too,” she said, and pulled the next knot tight. “What do we do next? After they’re tied up?”
“We’re going to keep them somewhere nice and quiet for the night, where they won’t get into much trouble, and then Doug will deal with them in the morning. If they’re connected to a clan, the Council will handle it.”
“If they’re not?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Brad said. “That’s the kind of stuff Doug takes care of. Let’s get them secure, anyway. I guess they can go in the room you were in.”
“Should we leave them a bucket or something?”
“Doug will be here early,” Brad said. “They should be all right…but maybe.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re pretty thoughtful, considering they tried to kill you.”
“I don’t want to be mean, I guess. Do you need a hand or anything?”
“You can open the door for me,” he said. “There’s a lock—I didn’t want to put it on for you, but these guys I don’t care about freaking out.”
“Me neither,” she said. “You can scare the heck out of them for all I care. Can they hear us?”
“The conscious one can,” he said.
She looked over at the green dragon. “You get a bucket,” she said. “But you owe me.”
Brad chuckled. “A benevolent dictator,” he said. “Just my type.” He dragged the black dragon up the stairs first—he had said that one was heavier—and had Rachel get a bucket when he brought in the green dragon. He locked the door behind them with a wave of magic. “Do you still have the blaster?” he asked.