Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

He’d hauled her off the ground, stealing her rifle before she could get another shot away. Now he dragged her away from the firefight and Rikar, pushing her ahead of him down the rough pathway toward the beachfront.
    Crap. The beach wasn’t a place she wanted to go. Bad memories lay in that direction. Especially after spotting Lothair not far from their primary position on the ledge. Angela clenched her teeth and kept her feet moving. She didn’t want to think about the cabin, the river, or the beachfront where Rikar rescued her. Nothing good lay in rehashing it. But as she navigated the steep incline, boot heels sinking into rock shale, blood rushed in her ears and fear came calling.
    Her stomach knotted. She swallowed the sudden surge of bile, struggling to keep her footing on unfriendly terrain. Her boots slid on loose stone. Fist-sized rocks rolled down the slope in front of her, kicking up dust, cracking the sides of boulders. Angela grabbed for a handhold, fighting for balance. Her palm slid on the sheer rock wall. A second before she fell, Mac grabbed the back of her army jacket and hauled her upright.
    Angela sucked in a breath. “Mac—”
    “Keeping moving.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the sky.
    “We’re sitting ducks out here,” she whispered, her voice an octave lower than usual. Sound carried for miles out here. They were already in Deep-Shitsville. No need to give away their position by being an idiot. “You can fly. Shift and let’s go airborne.”
    He shook his head. “Too dangerous.”
    She opened her mouth to argue.
    Mac drilled her with a look, aqua-blue eyes shimmering in the gloom. “I haven’t trained enough. Shit, I can barely protect myself up there, never mind you. Staying hidden’s our best bet until we get to the water. Once we’re in, no one will be able to touch me, and I’ll swim you to safety. Get you home.”
    “But Rikar—”
    “Can handle himself.”
    True enough. A bird’s-eye view of his lethal abilities from the ridge told her that much. She’d gotten up close and personal through her scope. Watched him hammer enemy dragons…seen him twist and turn, white scales flashing as he went supersonic in flight to dodge Razorback claws. And that was before the other Nightfuries arrived on the scene.
    Still, leaving Rikar out there—without her to cover him—made her go cold inside. Not that she’d had much choice in the matter. Proof positive of that was hauling ass behind her. With her M25 slung over his shoulder, leaving her nothing but the twin Glocks holstered on the outsides of her thighs for protection.
    The guys had teased her when she’d strapped on the double gun belt, calling her a Lara Croft wannabe. Bet they weren’t laughing now. Mac certainly wasn’t.
    Freaking guy…rifle-stealing pain in her ass.
    Grabbing her shoulder, Mac pushed her sideways into a low-lying boulder, military-speak for hold up and get down. As he crouched alongside her, he checked the clip in her rifle, chambered a round, and whispered, “Besides, he’ll kick my ass if I go airborne with you.”
    “Better an ass-kicking than getting me killed on the ground,” she said, talking smack to ease the tension. Both of them were wound too tight. Life-and-death situations tended to do that to a couple of cops in over their heads. “He’ll nail your—”
    “Shut up,” he said even as his lips twitched. “And keep your head down. We’re headed into a straight stretch.”
    She peeked over the top of the huge rock. “An open area?”
    Mac nodded. “About a hundred yards worth.”
    “Crap.”
    “No kidding.”
    Wonderful. Angela unholstered one of her Glocks and flipped the safety off. Just what they didn’t need, a clearing complete with sheer rock walls. The perfect spot for an ambush.
    After double-checking her weapon, she glanced at Mac. “The plan?”
    “Shit,” he said. “We’re supposed to have a plan?”
    Angela rolled her eyes. Her partner grinned at her, but she could see the strain and knew what he was thinking because…you betcha. She was thinking the same thing. Mac was Dragonkind now, fast healing, hard to kill in a firefight. Crazy durable, unlike her. She was human, packing nothing but her smarts and a couple of Glocks to protect her mortal self while he owned a kick-ass set of claws, armored scales, and a nasty exhale. And that was before she got to the whole magic thing. So, yeah. If Mac got tag-teamed, she’d be forced to face a