by Anna Lowe
“Oh, don’t worry. We won’t kill her. In fact, Luigi promised me he would take good care of her.” Olivia’s voice dropped. “Very good, very personal care. One-on-one, you might say.”
Marco darted forward, ready to tear Olivia to pieces, but her guards dive-bombed him, driving him back.
Think, dammit! Finn called into his mind. Not with your heart, but your brain.
Marco forced himself to swallow, though his throat was dry. Finn was right. He had to think. Quintus lay bleeding, perhaps dying. Luigi and Duarte had been dispatched to capture Laura. Olivia was the root of all that evil, and she had to be stopped. But all he had was himself and Finn. Really, his priority ought to be stopping Olivia rather than rushing to protect Laura.
That’s what his mind said anyway. But his heart…
Marco spat another plume of fire — a big one, this time — and one of Olivia’s guards rocketed to one side, screaming in pain. But rather than following up, Marco snapped his tail and changed direction, heading for the coast.
With a sharp grunt, Finn joined Marco in his headlong rush home.
Behind them, Olivia muttered an order, and three of her guards set off in hot pursuit of Marco and Finn. Not that they had much chance of catching up, not at the breakneck speeds Marco hit. Where Olivia headed with her other two guards, Marco didn’t know. He didn’t care.
Laura. Her name echoed through his mind. Nothing mattered but Laura.
Chapter Eighteen
Laura jolted upright, clutching the sheets. One moment, she’d been happily dozing. The next, she woke with a gasp, her eyes wide.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Marco.” She stuck out a hand, but all she found beside her was the mattress. Where was he?
An anxious glance out the window revealed nothing but a beautiful day. Deceptively beautiful, it seemed, because every nerve in her body signaled in alarm.
A hurried knock sounded on the door. “Senhorita,” Inés called.
“Coming.” Laura leaped out of bed and threw on Marco’s robe. She paused briefly, bringing the collar to her nose to sniff deeply.
Marco had worn it, and not too long ago, her dragon senses said. But where had he gone?
She threw open the door, feeling sick. Had Marco left her? Was he hurt? What was going on?
“Venha rápido.” Inés motioned. Come quickly.
“My clothes—”
Inés shook her head. “You will not need them.”
Laura halted in her tracks. What the heck? The only time she didn’t need clothes was when she was in bed with Marco.
Then it hit her. The other time she didn’t need clothes was when she shifted into dragon form.
“Siga-me.” Inés tugged her down the hall. Follow me.
Laura scrambled to follow, cinching the belt tighter around the robe.
Inés led her down the stairs, out into the blazing sunshine, and through the vineyard, jabbering in rapid-fire Portuguese.
“Quintus… A trap… Olivia…”
Laura’s heart thumped wildly. “Is Marco all right?”
Inés nodded. “For now, yes.”
Laura could have screamed. For now?
The only good news was that Finn was with Marco, but Duarte and Luigi were up to something too.
“This way.”
Inés directed her to the far end of the vineyard, where a stone cellar had been dug into the slope of the hill. One of the pair of rounded doors had been flung open, and Adriano beckoned, his eyes jumping from Laura to the sky behind her.
She whirled for a look, but Inés pulled her on.
“Hurry. They are coming.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Duarte. Luigi Lombardi. Possibly others,” Inés said.
When Laura reached the cellar entrance, she turned to look back. Then she gasped, because two dark shadows were speeding toward the property.
“Go! Go!” Adriano insisted, shoving her into the cavelike space behind the doors.
Inés followed, while Adriano stood guard at the door. Dim light filtered in through the dirty glass on the upper portion of the doors, and the temperature dropped several degrees.
Laura balled her hands into fists. If the plan was for her to hide out — well, no. Marco had taught her to defend herself, and she would if she had to.
Inés, however, grabbed a candle and pushed Laura deeper into the tunnel. They turned a corner, where the light was even dimmer. In one quick motion, Inés lit the candle, placed it in a niche, and waved to the wine barrels stacked against the back wall.
“Ajude-me.”
Help with what? Laura had no clue, but she did her best to follow the older woman’s cues.
They heaved, and the barrel rolled over moist earth. Inés bent by the barrel, prying at some kind of clasp on the wall behind. Finally, it creaked, and a whole section of the wall moved. Inés grabbed the candle and held it before the dark tunnel she’d revealed. The candle flickered, and the air thickened with the scent of the sea.
Inés took Laura by both arms. “Listen carefully. This tunnel leads to the sea cliffs. You must follow it and fly to safety. Follow the coast, heading west. Stay out of sight.” She pressed the candle into Laura’s hands.
Laura gaped. Follow the coast? How far? And what about Marco?
Inés steered her by the shoulder. “Go. The tunnel is long, and time is short.”
“What about you?”
Inés held her head high. “Adriano and I will conceal the entrance. Don’t worry. We have other defenses in place, and we will use them.”
That wasn’t what Laura had in mind, but Inés didn’t give her much choice. Slowly, Laura bent and looked into the tunnel. Judging by the wavering candlelight, it was just high enough to stand in at a stoop. But the candlelight only reached a few feet, and everything beyond was pitch black.
“But…” Laura tried one more time.
“Go,” Inés ordered. “We will give you a head start.”
A growl of warning sounded outside the door — Adriano in wolf form? Inés gave Laura one more push, and she finally obeyed, crawling through the hidden panel. A moment later, it thumped closed behind Laura, and wine swished as Inés rolled the barrel back into place.
Laura took a deep breath. The only way out was forward.
She held up the candle, edging along. Cold sliced through her as she squished through mud and over rocks on bare feet. The tunnel seemed to go on for ages, but the air was fresh and salty. At one point, she froze at a rumbling sound, and her pulse spiked. Was that a dragon, hunkered down by the entrance, waiting for her to emerge?
Slowly, she exhaled. That was the sound of ocean waves smashing into a rocky coast. The tunnel exit couldn’t be far.
Soon after, the candle flickered. She shielded it with one hand, moving faster. The tunnel bent slightly, and light filtered in from the end. She rushed forward, then took the last few meters slowly. What if there really was a dragon out there?
But there was no one — other than a pair of startled seabirds that took to the air when Laura emerged into the sunlight. She stood shakily on the narrow ledge, scanning the sky. All she saw was open ocean, blue sky, and craggy rocks. Clutching a rock for support, she peered over the edge. It was a long, long way down. The view above her, on the other hand, was blocked by an overhang.
Now what?
She set the candle out of the wind then faced the ocean again.
Fly to safety. Follow the coast, heading west, Inés had said. Stay out of sight.
Laura leaned out as far as she dared, looking left. The cliff extended for another half mile to a point where a mountain ridge sliced into the sea, concealing whatever lay behind. Laura could picture it, though — the shallow indentation beyond that ridge where a mountain stream tumbled into the sea. Then there were more cliffs, and eventually, the seaside village of São Vicente.
So, she had her bearings. But, damn. How was she going to take off? The ledge was barely big enough for
a human to stand upon, let alone shift into dragon form.
She stared at the sheer drop, then shook her head. She would have to jump and shift in midair.
“Marco,” she whispered desperately.
A dozen birds jumped into the air from their nests, not far away. Laura jerked back just in time to see two huge dragons appear in the sky. The sun backlit them, casting halos around their huge bodies, and Laura strained to make out more details. Was that Marco and Finn?
They turned, revealing the color of their hides. One was brown and the other greenish in hue. Not Marco, and certainly not Finn.
Duarte, her dragon grumbled. And Luigi, no doubt.
Instinct cried for her to duck back into the tunnel and hide, but she forced herself to watch. What were they up to?
The dragons flew in tandem, one above the other, both scanning the cliffs leading away from her location. Searching, in other words.
Laura gulped. Searching for her?
She backed up. What to do? God, what to do?
She could retreat into the tunnel, but eventually, Duarte or Luigi would find the ledge, and she would be trapped. Alternatively, she could wait for them to fly out of sight, then make her escape.
Like now, her dragon hissed.
There was only one catch. Taking off.
She wavered, watching raging surf pound razor-sharp rocks.
We did it before, her dragon pointed out. We can do it again.
Her cheeks heated. In Lisbon, Duarte had forced her to attempt a similarly terrifying move. Now, he was back and forcing her to try the impossible yet again. What gave him the right?
She peered out again. Duarte and Luigi circled in the sky, conferring. Then they set off on another sweep of the cliffs to the east. How long before they gave up and came closer? Or worse — how long until they decided to split up and search in both directions? She would never get away then.
She smoothed her hands over Marco’s robe. What she wouldn’t give to be able to be back in bed with her lover, dreaming of what their future might hold.
Then she gave herself a shake. If she didn’t make her escape now, she might not have a future at all.
Haltingly, she pulled off the robe, then hugged herself against the chilly air at the mouth of the tunnel. Finally, she raised her hands and wiggled her fingers, picturing her shift. First, she would let her nails extend and her arms stretch. Then she would point her nose forward, letting it elongate into a snout. After that, she would push with her legs and then tuck them against her body.
Her knees trembled. Could she really?
She forced herself to nod. Yes, she could.
Then, with one more glance down the coastline, she inhaled — and jumped off the cliff.
Chapter Nineteen
The wind whistled in Laura’s ears, and cool air blasted her belly. Her stomach lurched as she dropped through the air. Hundreds of feet below, waves smashed into jagged rocks.
Every muscle strained, and her eyes shed tears. But she gritted her teeth, hanging on.
Shift, dammit! Shift!
Panic crept in from the edges of her mind, but she fought it back, focusing on her shift. Fingers stretching, arms becoming wings. Nose poking forward, legs tucked tightly. Heart thumping, because this could be the end. Snout huffing—
She blinked. Snout?
Snout, her dragon murmured, sweeping out of its downward plunge. Tracing a graceful arc, she gained altitude, then beat her wings hard.
I did it! she nearly cheered.
Then she glanced behind her, wary of Duarte, and hightailed it along the coast, desperate to fly out of sight before Duarte or Luigi turned around.
But the rocky ridge that would hide her from them seemed to jut out for miles. Just as she made it to the farthest point, a guttural voice cut through the air.
“There she is!”
She glanced back. Duarte and Luigi had spotted her, but two sleek shapes had appeared in the distance behind them. Marco? Finn?
Hang in there, a deep, familiar voice boomed into her mind. We’re right behind you.
Her pulse skipped. It was Marco! She was saved!
Except she wasn’t, because glancing back had thrown her off-balance. For one terrifying moment, she tipped sideways through the air.
No! Her scream echoed off the cliffs.
Finally, she caught herself and struggled to regain her rhythm. Then she hammered at the air, desperate to get away.
Not so choppy, she pictured Marco saying. Use steady, even wingbeats.
She forced herself to breathe slowly. Flying was like swimming — you had to work with the elements, because fighting them increased water or wind resistance.
Long, sleek body, she pictured Marco calling. Sniff out the currents in the wind.
Whoosh! She shot around the outer edge of the ridge and raced out of Duarte’s view. He’d spotted her, but at least she had a temporary sense of reprieve.
Now, think. How to shake off those bastards? How to stall until Marco catches up?
Heading out over the ocean wouldn’t help. She would be a sitting duck, easy for any enemy to locate. Hugging the coast wouldn’t do either, because the next ten-mile stretch took a gradual concave curve, with only low ridges to hide behind.
That left one option — flying over the mountainous interior.
She eyed the jagged slopes that rose into the mist. Thus far, she’d only ever flown over the ocean. Marco had mentioned tricky drafts and treacherous gusts in the mountains. But if she could beat Duarte to the mist, she might be able to hide.
The thought made her sour. Marco had taught her to fight, not to flee. But Duarte and Luigi were bigger, faster, and more experienced than her. A glance back confirmed they had cleared the ridgeline and were gaining on her — quickly enough to reach her before Marco did.
She studied every dip in the coastline ahead. Each of those signaled the mouth of a narrow valley that sliced its way out of the hills. Valleys she could follow inland and into the mist.
Behind her, Luigi muttered to Duarte, who replied in a low, raspy cough. Something like, It won’t be long now.
Laura gritted her teeth. Those bastards were so sure of themselves. Well, she’d show them.
She swooped left, hugging the coast closely. Closer… Almost too close. She yelped as a tree branch scraped her belly. Then she edged away, giving herself more of a buffer.
Tune in, dammit, her dragon called. Concentrate.
Narrowing her eyes, she focused on picking out nuances in the wind. According to Marco, a dragon who tuned in to her surroundings could ride the wind like a wave.
Barely skimming the rocks, she focused on the next bump in the coastline. Instead of powering over it, she forced herself to glide. Rocks reared up before her, and she held her breath.
It took everything she had not to scream, because it looked as though she would crash. But at the last moment, she shot smoothly over the ridge.
“Whew.” She exhaled.
The wind had boosted her up and over that ridge the way waves made a surfer bob. That meant she could cut corners and eke out a slight lead.
It also let her pop in and out of sight. If she hugged the hills closely, she would dip out of view once again. And if she timed it just right…
She held her wings wide, letting the wind carry her over the next rise. The instant she crossed the high point, she pulled a hard left and dove. Then, when she was sure she’d splat into the rushing river, she turned and sprinted inland for all she was worth.
Not long after, the wind whistled behind her as Duarte and Luigi cleared the same rise and shot onward. Laura peeked back, watching them fly west, then glide, looking around.
It was working! If she powered up that narrow valley quickly enough, she might lose them for good.
The walls of the valley narrowed, and mist swirled ahead, promising her safe haven. But just when she thought she was in the clear, a dark shape swooped in from the left, and a feminine voice cackled.
“Not so fast, Fire Maiden.”
Laura tumbled to the right, then evened out and hissed. “Olivia.”
Olivia didn’t bother answering. She just shouted to her co-conspirators.
“Over here, you fools.”
Her raspy dragon voice echoed off the valley walls, but there was no danger of a human hearing, not with the sound of the gushing river below.
Without thinking, Laura huffed at Olivia. And, whoa. A long, fiery streak shot out of her mouth, and Olivia screeched, jumping away.
“You bitch!”
Laura bared her teeth. Bitch? She wasn’t the one staging an all-out coup.
Much as she was tempted to take on Olivia, Laura zoomed back on course, following the riverbed. She did, however, swoop close to Olivia and snap her tail in pure spite.
Olivia skittered away without her usual grace. “How dare you?”
Laura longed to hang around and reply. But two more dragons dive-bombed her from each of the valley walls. Apparently, Olivia had more than Duarte and Luigi on her side.
“After her!” Olivia ordered the new arrivals.
The math was all too easy — and frightening. Olivia and that pair of dragons, together with Duarte and Luigi, made a total of five. Technically, Marco and Finn put Laura on a team of three, but they were too far to be of immediate help.
So, go! she yelled at herself.
Laura raced on, cutting straight through the first layer of mist. It quickly thickened, and she held her breath, diving into a white void.
The air cooled instantly, and the sound of her wingbeats was eerily muffled. Even the whistle of wind in her ears grew muted. She raced along, blinking raindrops out of her eyes.
A moment later, she emerged into a sunny patch, gasping as if surfacing up from a deep dive. But the next fog bank loomed, and she dove in. The air grew thinner and colder as she rose, and she lost her bearings. Which was all right, in a way. The dragons pursuing her could get just as confused, and she might be safe.
But the mist wasn’t so much a uniform blanket as a worn-out quilt. As thick as it was in places, there were patches where the clouds thinned to a light haze.
“There she is!” Duarte’s voice rang out before Laura zoomed into the next cloudy swath.