Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

he twisted, shaking off the blow as he rocketed into a tight spiral.
    The sharp report of rifle rang out, a harsh crack beneath a starry sky.
    The yellow dragon chasing him jerked, head whiplashing, blood arcing from his temple. As the rogue ashed out, the night wind blew the gray flakes into Rikar’s face. He growled. What was Angela doing…trying to put a target on her freaking back? Another round of fear rolled through him. She needed to move, right now. The report of the rifle was too loud, and if she didn’t stop shooting, every rogue would turn in her direction.
    A second shot echoed. Another rogue fell.
    Rikar cursed even as he tried to be thankful for her help, but…shit. Just wait until he got a hold of her. He’d turn her over his knee. After he kissed the hell out of her, because man, she was good. Wicked accurate, picking dragons out of the sky like heat-seeking missiles took out fighter jets. Good thing Forge was—
    “Rikar…hard left.” A purple streak roared in on his flank.
    Rikar shifted, tucking his wings as his comrade exhaled. Fire-acid flew from Forge’s throat, setting a rogue on fire. The Razorback shrieked, falling out of the sky, the smell of burning flesh washing through the night chill.
    Rikar hammered another Razorback and snarled through mind-speak, “I’m gonna kill you.”
    “Later,” Forge said, breathing hard from his rocketlike flight from the cliff…where he’d left Angela alone and uncloaked. “And she’s safe.”
    “You asshole.” Whipping around, Rikar slashed a brown dragon with his tail.
    Forge came up over his spine. Rikar ducked his head, giving the male the space he needed to maneuver. His new warrior came in hot, elbowing a rogue in the head. A crack sounded as he knocked the bastard’s teeth down his throat. Rounding on another, Rikar’s claws caught scales. He gutted the enemy, protecting Forge’s flank with a shitload of down and dirty.
    “Get back over there.” Rikar slashed another rogue to keep the bastard at bay. “I can’t find Lothair and—”
    “Mac’ll move her if shit gets critical.”
    “Son of a…” Rikar trailed off as he grabbed a Razorback by the tail. Pulling a spin and toss, he hurled the enemy toward the farmhouse below him. The red dragon hit the ground with a crunch and slid, cutting a swath through the paddock, mounding the earth before he smashed into the barn. Wood siding exploded into kindling. “…bitch.”
    “Fuck off, Frosty.” Forge breathed out. A stream of orange flame shot from his throat, flashing across the night sky. Bang-on accurate, he torched the pile of rubble beneath the rogue on the ground, lighting the entire mess on fire. “Eye on the ball.”
    Freaking Forge. He didn’t care how effective the warrior was with his flamethrower-cum-mouth. He would skin the male alive when this was over.
    But first things first. Where the hell was the cavalry? Yeah, he and Forge might be doing the job keeping the rogues at bay, but not by much. It was hard, after all, to KO the enemy while playing defense.
    “B , ” Rikar growled. “Where the fuck are—”
    “On your six,” his commander said, coming in hot. A Razorback squawked, wing-flapping to get out of Bastian’s way. “Shove over.”
    No problem.
    Rikar flipped, tucking into a tight sideways spiral. Midnight-blue scales streaked in his periphery as his friend arrived, flying in with a shitload of kick-ass and the other Nightfury warriors on his tail. As the pack rolled in, the Razorbacks recoiled. The idiots. They were bold when they outnumbered him ten to one, but give them even odds, it was Retreatsville for the assholes.
    Thank fuck. He didn’t have a moment to waste.
    Swooping in behind Venom and Wick, he mind-spoke, “B…I’m going cliff-side.”
    Bastian grunted, cracking a rogue’s skull. “Get her out of here.”
    Amen to that.
    As much as he hated to leave the fight, he couldn’t stay. Not with Angela alone and vulnerable up on the ridgeline. Okay, so she wasn’t alone, but Mac was little better than a cub—unsure of his magic, unused to his new body, unable to use his strength to maximum effect. Leaving her with a fledgling male who didn’t have a clue how to cloak himself, never mind her, wasn’t an option.
    Especially with Lothair still MIA.

Chapter Twenty-seven
     
    Retreating to the secondary location wasn’t Angela’s idea of fun. Then again, neither was Mac at the moment. Freaking guy and his strong-arm tactics.