Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

list of favorite things to do on a Saturday night.
    Especially with Angela at home waiting for him.
    Freaking male. Mac was fucking up his plans.
    Rikar snarled, baring his fangs. Just wait until he got his claws on their new boy. The cop was in for a smackdown of epic proportions. But first things first. He needed to catch the crazy SOB.
    Easier said than done.
    Mac flew incredibly well. Had gone kamikaze with a capital K.
    “Mac!” he said through mind-speak, trying to drag the male back to reality.
    No answer.
    Rikar yelled at the cop again.
    Nothing.
    Banking hard, Rikar rocketed around the Space Needle, hoping to intercept Mac on the other side. A no-go. Christ, the male was fast. And not even close to normal.
    Most fledglings flopped around like baby birds before they learned to use their wings and maneuver with any speed. But oh, no. Not Mac. The cop cornered like a pro. Had the weave and dodge down cold, maneuvering between low-lying buildings and high-rises with equal efficiency. Headed for where exactly?
    The fucking ocean. Rikar’s least favorite place in the world.
    Not that he blamed Mac. His reaction wasn’t uncommon and…joy, oh, joy. The carnival ride called crazy he and Bastian were on was Rikar’s fault. He should’ve known the flash-and-fly would happen once Mac got out into the open. Despite his inexperience, the male was a warrior. His aggressive nature and history with the military—not to mention his record with the SPD—proved it. So it stood to reason the male would react the same way he and the other Nightfury warriors had after the change.
    Rikar knew all his comrades’ war stories. Had listened to each one recall the experience at one time or another. Usually while sitting around the dining room table playing poker. Texas Hold ’Em, at Wick’s insistence.
    They’d all gone a little nuts after transition. Bastian, he knew, had gotten up close and personal with a lightning strike once or…ah, make that seven times. A fire dragon, Wick had burrowed deep into the earth, cozying up to lava flow. And Venom? Shit, that male had spent an entire week in the ozone, breathing in poisonous fumes. His own transition hadn’t been much better. He’d flown into a glacier crevice, enveloping himself with nothing but ice and subzero temperatures, and hadn’t come out for three weeks.
    So, yeah. He understood the instinct driving Mac. As a water dragon, he wanted to be deep in the ocean, surrounded by nothing but SeaWorld.
    Which was a major frickin’ problem.
    Downtown Seattle was prime hunting ground. For Nightfury and Razorback alike. If he didn’t rein Mac in soon, the enemy would detect the energy Mac threw out like a beacon and—
    “Shit,” Bastian growled, banking hard around another skyscraper. “Heads up, man.”
    Ah, hell. That didn’t sound good. “Whatcha got?”
    “ Incoming. Five strong. ”
    A tail length behind Mac, Rikar mirrored his commander, rocketing around the other side of the building. As he came around the corner, he flew up and over the spikes on B’s back. “Talk to me.”
    “Razorbacks … three miles out and closing fast.”
    Translation? ETA a minute and a half. Not good on any level. Except…
    Maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe he’d just been given a gift. Maybe he could end it here and give Angela the justice she wanted and the closure she needed. All without allowing his female into the mix or putting her in danger. Rikar’s heart thumped a little harder. Please, God, let the asshole rogue XO be with the pack headed their way.
    Wings spread wide, almost directly over the cop now, Rikar growled, “Is Lothair with them?”
    “No.”
    “Fuck.”
    “Rikar, man…we’ll get him. Just not tonight.”
    “Take one alive.” The plan? Beat the snot out of the asshole. Question the rogue until he gave up the goods, the longs and lats of the Razorback lair. Angela wanted the other female captives rescued. And what his female asked for, she got. Shit, he’d do anything—gift wrap and lay them at her feet—just to see her smile. “Cull the weakest from the pack. I’ll ice him up. You bring him to ground.”
    “Fucking A,” B said, Nightfury speak for “oh, goody.”
    His gaze still locked on Mac, Rikar’s sonar pinged. Sensation curled around his horns. Close. The fuckers were so close. Another minute and the rogues would engage. “Lay it out, B.”
    Pulling his gift for reading a male’s strengths and weaknesses out of his bag of tricks, his