Dragonfury 01 - Fury of Fire

in place of his head—and ashed out, the remaining rogue roared.
    More Scald hit the airwaves.
    Bastian rocketed into a side flip. Pinhead had just made a dumb-ass mistake. Speed and agility equaled maneuverability…all huge advantages in an aerial dogfight. The Razorback had obviously missed the memo. Relying on Scald, the male hung in midair, a stationary target with a huge bull’s-eye on his chest.
    Napalm streamed by, a mere inch from his wing tip. With an abrupt shift, Bastian cut his flight short and…
    One potato. Two potato. Three potato, four…
    He broadsided the rogue, hitting him like the freight train he knew Wick wanted to throw. The strike drove the male backward. As the Razorback’s head whiplashed, Bastian grabbed his wings just above the elbow joint. His talons sank deep, digging past scales to find flesh as he applied pressure. Pinhead squawked and twisted, flailing to break Bastian’s hold.
    Too little, too late.
    He bent the Razorback’s wings back. Bone snapped and the sound ricocheted, echoing off steel-clad warehouses, joining the male’s scream of agony. Enemy claws raked him, tearing at his shoulder and chest. Bastian tightened his grip and, without mercy, flew toward the ground. Pinhead’s spine collided with concrete with a gruesome crack. Jarred by the impact, a rusty pile of railway ties rattled and the Razorback gasped, blood bubbling up his throat to seep from the side of his mouth.
    Applying pressure, he pushed the Razorback’s pain threshold. “Where is he?”
    Wick touched down beside him. Golden eyes narrowed, the dump truck-wielding male sat like a cat, tail wrapped around his front paws, the tip twitching as he watched and listened.
    Broken and bloodied, the green dragon wheezed, “L-lab. Always…the l-lab.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Don’t…” The Razorback coughed, fighting for each breath. “K-now. Don’t…go…in there. Bad s-shit.”
    Wick bared his fangs. “Proof positive.”
    “Not enough for the Archguard,” Bastian said in mind-speak, frustration seeping into his tone. “They won’t take my word for it.”
    “Imbeciles.”
    B snarled in agreement. The Razorback moaned, the sound so awful Bastian took pity. Grabbing his horned head, he twisted, breaking his enemy’s neck in one clean snap. Limp in death, the rogue’s green scales ashed as he stepped off and…
    Bastian’s eyes narrowed as a prickling rush rattled over his scales.
    Wick’s head snapped toward a break between two warehouses. The alleyway between the two buildings was narrow, but wide enough to see the ocean beyond. “ B… ”
    “I feel it.”
    Sidestepping, he got low and, using the railway ties as cover, he let his magic roll. Something was out there. Something big. Something he couldn’t identify, but…
    Fog rose off the surface of the water. Wisping out, the thick brume frothed, creeping over the breakwater along the shoreline. Ethereally beautiful, power hidden in its depths…magic as lethal as Rikar’s ice mist. The spikes running down the center of Bastian’s spine vibrated, rattling, warning him.
    “Get airborne,” Bastian said, a second before a fireball lit up the night sky.
    Like a long-tailed comet, it streaked over the top of a warehouse and…Jesus. Fire-acid. The deadly combo ate through scales, burning dragons from the inside out.
    “Go. Go. Go.”
    Unfurling his wings, Wick leapt skyward.
    The fireball rocketed into a pair of giant fuel tanks behind them. Diesel geysered sky-high, then ignited, the orange fireball mushrooming with the force of a nuclear bomb. The shock wave blew Wick sideways. A horrific clang echoed as his skull met the side of a building.
    Bastian saw him crumple a second before the explosion threw him backward, introducing his ribcage to a healthy dose of steel. Bones cracked, giving way as he was body slammed by a front-end loader. Pain spiraled, biting into his torso. Sucking wind, starved for oxygen, Bastian rolled. Air or no air, he needed to move and stay clear of the fire-acid. The poisonous gel was everywhere, mixing with diesel, throwing off black smoke and toxic fumes. Fingers of flame rose like mini-tornados, racing across fuel soaked dirt and…
    Agony licked over his hip.
    God, he was on fire. But worse than that? He was coated in acid from knee to shoulder along his left side. Forget the pain, he had bigger problems here. The acid worked fast, would take him apart scale by scale to reach the vulnerable muscle beneath.