Firefighter Phoenix (Fire & Rescue Shifters 7)

“Hold on, John,” Ash whispered as Corbin dragged him past. “Hold on.”

Dai was in the next cage, also in human form. He seemed to be holding out better than John, though he sat huddled with his arms around his knees, muscles knotted. At the sight of Ash, he scrambled to his feet, hastening to the front of his cage. The black runes of his binding stood out stark on his forearm.

“Commander.” Dai’s eyes were cat-slit and emerald, blazing with dragonfire. “Are you all right?“

Ash reached out to him, but they both jerked back, simultaneously dragged away from each other by their respective bindings. Dai hissed in pain, red scales rippling down the sides of his neck.

“No shifting, beast,” ordered a nearby warlock, without looking round. Bright orange flames wove around his upraised hands, gathering into a flaming sphere. Without warning, he hurled the fireball—not at Dai, but at another warlock across the courtyard.

A wall of water sprang up. The fireball hissed harmlessly into steam. The second warlock laughed as the wave splashed back to the ground.

“That all you got?” he taunted his colleague. “I told you a sea dragon would be more powerful. But noooo, you had to have the fire dragon.”

The first warlock dropped his hands, looking disgruntled. “My familiar’s still fighting me. Yours is just more docile. Once I’ve got mine properly tamed, then we’ll see who’s more powerful.”

A little way off, a dark-haired woman lounging against another cage rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

The water warlock caught sight of Corbin, and his smirk vanished. “High Magus!”

“Having fun?” Corbin asked acidly.

The first warlock whipped around. He straightened to attention, going pale. “Just, ah, practicing, High Magus. Like you told us to.”

“I ordered you to learn the capabilities of your familiars,” Corbin said in icy tones. “Not to attempt to vaporize each other. I am aware that the power is intoxicating, but if you cannot comport yourselves with dignity, there are plenty of acolytes eager to take your places. No matter how strong your familiars, I am quite capable of stripping them from you. Do not think to test my power. Understand?”

Both warlocks hung their heads. “Yes, High Magus,” they mumbled in unison.

Corbin fixed them with his stare for a moment more before turning to the dark-haired woman. “I trust you have been using your time more productively, Magus Serena?”

The witch smiled. Shaking back the sleeve of her robe, she held up her left hand. Her runes lit up with a starlight glimmer. Pursing her lips, she whistled a short, liquid trill.

An emerald hummingbird darted out of the overgrown creepers, its tiny body flashing jewel-bright in the sunshine. It flew in an unnaturally straight path straight to the witch’s hand, as though reeled in by an invisible fishing line. Its pinprick claws clutched her fingertip.

The woman stroked the trembling ruby throat. “Pretty thing,” she said fondly. “So intricate. So delicate.”

Pursing her lips again, she blew out a soft puff of breath, ruffling the brilliant feathers.

The hummingbird went rigid. It tumbled off her hand, instantly dead.

“So easy to break,” the witch said. The ground around her feet was littered with limp little bodies. She laughed, casting a scornful eye over at the two male warlocks. “And you fools thought this familiar’s power could only be used to heal.”

“Very good,” Corbin said, as the two warlocks glared daggers at the witch. “Though I remind you that I need you to be able to drop beasts without killing them.”

“I will keep practicing, High Magus.” The witch glanced into the cage behind her. “But this one has a strong will. It is difficult to maintain a light touch on the spell while also forcing enough power out of him.”

Behind her, inside the cage, the unicorn’s head hung low. Its white flanks trembled, lathered with sweat. Blood crusted the black runes winding around its right foreleg. Nonetheless, its ears were flat back against its skull, sapphire eyes blazing with hatred.

“You have a few days to break him,” Corbin told the witch. “We cannot risk delaying longer.”

“I understand, High Magus.” Turning back to the captive unicorn, the witch reached through the bars. The unicorn twitched, but was forced to hold still as she caressed its quiv

ering neck.

“Pretty thing,” the witch crooned. “Perhaps I’ll braid your mane.”

“Ash!”

He jerked at the sound of his name, managing to turn before Corbin’s will could tighten on him. Across the courtyard, Chase pressed against the bars of his cage, spitting out a chewed wad of fabric. The pegasus shifter’s mouth was bloodied and bruised. The torn remnants of a makeshift gag fluttered around his neck.