“Zerlix, what are you doing? Come on,” he’d growled, putting a hand on the Saurian’s shoulder to try and pull him back. “Old Town is their territory now and you know it—it was in the last treaty our Sire signed.”
“Yeah? Well maybe I’ve decided to take it back.” Zerlix had shaken off his hand and pressed his flat, scaly face into Lavish’s. “Get off our turf,” he snarled again.
“The fuck we will!” the other crew leader had snapped. “Get out of my face, Zerlix!”
“Make me,” Zerlix hissed and shoved the other male, so hard that Lavish went flat on his ass.
And then, of course, the fight was on.
Though it was wrong and ridiculous, Dragon couldn’t refuse to fight. The honor of their Clan was at stake and his own life, as well as the lives of his crewmembers, were on the line.
He went into killing mode, as he always did, his vision going red and his body acting on instinct. The Vision Kindred part of his heritage allowed him to see every opponent’s weaknesses in a split second and exploit it ruthlessly.
He favors his left side, a little voice seemed to whisper in his head as he faced off against the rival gang’s leader. Slip around to the right—he’s too slow to block a blow there. His knife hand is weak. He’ll go for his blaster—keep him from getting to it. Slit his throat and move on to the next.
And the next and the next and the next…
He wove between his opponents, listening to that little voice in his head and doing a graceful, lethal dance. Killing was almost too easy—it always had been for him. In no time, all but one member of the Poison Daggers crew was dead at his feet.
Dragon had been about to pursue the final member, who was fleeing as fast as he could, when a voice in his head whispered,
Where’s Zerlix?
It was a good question. Looking around, he saw that his Saurian brother was gone. He himself was spattered with blood, with a dripping blade clenched in one hand. The rest of the crew were standing back, looking at him in something like awe.
“Damn, Dragon,” one of them whispered hoarsely. “You really fucked their shit up!”
“Yeah—I guess the Crimson Blades can claim Old Town as part of our territory again,” another one agreed. “You shed enough blood to draw a whole new dividing line, Dragon!”
“Never mind about that,” Dragon growled. “Where’s Zerlix?”
“Zerlix?” They all looked around, frowns of confusion on their stunned faces.
“Um, I think he left earlier, after you killed Lavish,” one of the crew said.
“You mean he ran away from the fight?” another asked. “The fight that he started?”
“I dunno.” The other male shrugged uneasily and lashed his forked tongue. Everyone knew that to retreat was a sign of cowardice but not a single one of them had the guts to apply the word “coward” to their leader, who was also the only biological son of Komendant Vizlar.
“Maybe…maybe he figured Dragon had it handled and he needed to take care of something else,” one of them offered weakly.
“Something else—right,” Dragon growled and a picture of Bobbi flashed in his mind’s eye. Her petite, curvy figure, her long, wavy, flame-colored hair, her big blue eyes and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her cute little nose…
Then he saw Zerlix finding her and taking her while he, Dragon, was busy with the fight. The fight that Zerlix had started.
He picked the fight on purpose, he realized suddenly. To distract me so he could go after her.
“Dragon—” one of the crew began tentatively.
But Dragon was already pushing past them. As he got to the end of the street, he broke into a dead run. He had to get to Bobbi before it was too late.
Unless it already was.
22
“What…what are you doing here?” Bobbi demanded, backing away from the huge, reptilian form. Zerlix might be a head shorter than Dragon, but he was still well over a head taller than her and he probably weighed twice as much as she did. She couldn’t help staring at the long, curving black claws at the ends of his scaly fingers and the long, thin rows of needle-sharp teeth that lined his lipless mouth.
“What am I doing here? Why, waiting for you, of course little female,” Zerlix hissed, taking a step forward. “Don’t worry though, I’m not here to Claim you—not yet, anyway.”
“That’s good because I belong to Dragon!” Bobbi said.
Part of her couldn’t believe she was saying that she belonged to a man but another part—a primal part—recognized that, at least on Saurous, belonging to Dragon was her only defense against rape and death.
Her words didn’t seem to perturb Zerlix at all, however.
“Yes, yes—for now, you do,” he said, taking another step towards her. “But not for long, little mammalian. Soon you will be mine.”