CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CONSEQUENTIALLY
The dragon circled once, then twice, around the tower of smoke, screaming wildly. Like called to like, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it said. Was it hopeful there was another like it, or angry at what it might have believed was the origin of its anger?
“Swords up!” Ethan called out, and we lifted our blades.
It dove like a waterbird and came in fast, moving within twenty feet of us before banking again, rising along the bleachers, and turning for another pass.
It dropped again, and this time aimed for Mallory.
Jonah jumped, spun his katanas against the dragon’s right wing, managed to nick the tendon.
I ran beneath the dragon, sliced at its leg, in a spot with scales thicker than those on its toes.
The sword was strong, and Catcher’s magic made it stronger, but it was still tough going, felt like cutting through concrete. Each millimeter forward took a disproportionate amount of effort.
I managed to slice a wound into its thigh. The dragon shrieked and ascended again, trailing blood into the sky. And then it turned and headed in for another round.
“Second volley!” Catcher said, and Ethan rolled his blade around his body, gaze set on the creature arrowing toward him.
The dragon reached him, snapped its teeth, and roared with pain and anger. ENEMIES.
Ethan dodged gnashing teeth and swung the sword in an arc, catching the plates on the underside of the dragon’s neck. They cracked with a snap, like tiles breaking against concrete, blood welling in the cut beneath them.
The dragon hit the ground, rolled, leaving a trail of blood across the grass, and scenting the air with blood and chemicals. Ethan ran toward it, sliced its leg. I did the same with the other, then darted away when the dragon roared with anger, rose to its feet.
Our magicked swords were working. We actually had a chance at this.
And wasn’t that always when pride got in the way?
The dragon climbed to its feet. It was nimble in the air, but not on the ground, so I expected it to amble forward. Instead, it darted to the side, head snapping. Its teeth—serrated and sharp—scraped against my arm, leaving a trail of pain and heat.
I cursed and dodged away, and the dragon screamed as a katana lodged in its foreleg only inches away from my head.
I looked back at Jonah, hand still lifted in perfect follow-through form.
“No throwing swords near a vampire’s head!” I called out. “New rule!”
“Saved your ass, didn’t it?” he said, running forward and hopping onto the dragon’s foot, snatching back his sword before flipping away again.
Little wonder he was captain of the Grey House guards.
“Your arm?” he asked.
“It’s fine.” It actually burned like fire, but that didn’t much matter now.
Ethan and Catcher went in for another volley; Catcher tossed fireballs while Ethan spun forward, going in low and catching slices across the dragon’s abdomen. The dragon pushed Ethan away, sent him sailing onto his back.
You good, tiger?