Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

hit the floor on the other side, she let loose, legs pumping, heart hammering, hope lighting a fire deep inside her. A window. She had a narrow slice of opportunity before the other Razorbacks realized Lothair hadn’t returned.
    She needed to run hard. Think fast. Make every second count.
    Her life depended on it.

Chapter Three
     
    Rikar slowed his roll, pausing in front of a reinforced steel door to punch in his access code. As his fingers did the walking, his inner beast stirred as though the bastard knew what awaited him on the other side. An hour with a Razorback. Nothing but a Razorback.
    Oh, thank you, God.
    A quick hand flex. A little neck action—rolling his chin against his chest, stretching out the tense muscles bracketing his spine—and he was ready to go. To cause pain. Inflict suffering. At one with his frosty side.
    A rarity among his kind, a frost dragon whose blood ran cold, he was fortunate that his magic never abandoned him. The power was always Johnny-on-the-spot. Night or day—in and out of dragon form—it simmered in his veins, wanting out of its cage, begging to be used.
    Most males weren’t so lucky. Their magical abilities diminished in human form. But he was different. Bastian, too. His best friend was the only other male he knew who could command his magic in both forms. Maybe that was the reason they were so tight, bonded in a way he found difficult to describe, never mind understand.
    Right now, though, the mystery didn’t mean much. He had a job to do. And what do you know? His frosty side was on board with the plan, juicing him up, chilling him out.
    His mouth curved as frost rose. As the chill got thicker, the temperature dropped, and Rikar exhaled, thankful for the deep freeze. The cold evened him out, settled him down, made him remember his purpose.
    Angela. Why the hell couldn’t he find her?
    He should’ve been able to…had tapped into her and fed on the energy she drew directly from the Meridian. Which meant he was linked in, so attuned to her life force that tracking her should’ve been the work of minutes. Instead, he had nothing. Zippo on the leads front.
    Rikar cranked his hands in tight, praying for a miracle. For the rogues to screw up and let the cloaking shield they held around Angela slip. He needed thirty seconds tops to lock onto her signal. But that wouldn’t happen now. Not with dawn approaching and the deadly UV rays that arrived with it spreading over Seattle.
    Twelve hours. Twelve freaking hours before he could go back out. Before he could hunt, maim, and interrogate Razorback soldiers. And in the meantime? He had his very own plaything locked deep inside Black Diamond.
    “Rikar, man.” Venom took a step back and turned his face to the side, like someone forced to stand too close to an inferno. “Could you lay off until we get in there? I’m getting frostbite over here.”
    “Suck it up, Ven…or find a parka.” Yeah, that and a bomb shelter. His frosty side was just getting started, and as the air fogged, ice spread, turning the door frame and wall into an arctic wonderland of white. “It’ll only get worse.”
    “Great.” The grumble in his voice unmistakable, his buddy pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his head. “I’m gonna end up a frigging ice cube before this is over. Theraflu, here I come.”
    Rikar’s lips twitched. Thank God for Venom. The male never failed to pull something out of his hat. And that something was either wicked funny, off-color, or just plain cool. Which always chilled Rikar out, parked his instincts long enough to put intellect in the driver’s seat. Man, he needed that right now. Walking into the interrogation center in snarl mode wouldn’t get him the information he wanted. Or a map…with the longs and lats of the Razorback lair.
    Pinpoint accuracy. Lethal precision. A successful raid, and…bam! Angela would be home safely. Was that too much to ask? He swallowed past the lump in his throat, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t.
    Rikar threw Venom a grateful look and grabbed the door handle. The security system beeped, releasing the electronic locks. With a tug, he pulled the heavy door wide. Even toned down, his frosty side made itself known as icicles formed, clinging to the handle before he let go and stepped over the threshold. With a curse, Venom scrambled—shitkickers sliding on the icy floor—to avoid touching the freezing steel and muscled the door aside with his shoulder.
    Completed less than a