Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

her.
    “Got her,” he said, mind-speaking to the five flying behind him in V formation.
    Rikar answered, “You locked on?”
    “Port of Seattle…the shipping containers.”
    “Interesting place for an ambush.” Rolling through the cloud cover, Venom’s green scales flashed as he took up the wingman spot on Bastian’s right.
    Wick came up on his left. “How many?”
    “A fuck load.” Bastian’s eyes narrowed. “I sense seventeen.”
    “The Scot?” Per usual, Rikar took the shadow position, moving up and over to fly above Bastian’s spine.
    “I don’t feel him among them,” he said as Sloan completed the fighting pyramid and flew in beneath him. Surrounded on all sides by his warriors, Bastian dipped low, increasing his speed as the shipyard came into view. Spread out over a square mile, the Port of Seattle was a huge enterprise: a tangled web of shipping containers, cranes, concrete docks, and cargo ships. He zeroed in on the most remote section.
    “Wick…you ready?”
    Gold and black scales glinting in the moonlight, his warrior patted the electro-magnetic gun strapped to his forepaw. “If the fucker sticks his head out, I’ll nail him.”
    “Christ…a full sentence, Wick. What the fuck?” Rikar grinned, showing fang as the others laughed.
    “Fuck off,” Wick said, getting back on his usual roll…two syllables.
    Bastian ignored the byplay, too focused on Myst to join in their pre-fight ritual. Shooting the shit before battle settled his warriors, moving them into battle-zone mentality. But with his female in the mix, he didn’t want calm. He wanted rage, and as she reached out for him, he locked on, following the road map she drew him. His chest went tight. X marks the spot. Yeah…right there. He could practically see her. Less than a mile away, she was hidden in a shipping container at the back of the lot.
    “Show time, boys.” Dialed in, he fixated on his female, reading her energy. It was still strong, her life force undiminished by the fear he sensed in her. As relief rushed through him, the lethal side of him took hold, pushing him into brutality. “Go in hot. Take all the motherfuckers out. Understood?”
    “Fucking A,” his warriors growled as a unit.
    Following Bastian’s lead, they came in over the water, flying over a freighter and in between industrial cranes. A rumble sounded as Razorbacks—hidden behind steel and concrete—took flight, launching into a blitz attack, filling the moonlight sky with flashes of colorful scales.
    Flipping up and over, Venom broke ranks and rotated into a spiral. He inhaled deep and exhaled smooth. With a hiss, poisonous gas rolled out in front of him, a combo of neuro-toxins and vaporized fuel. Bastian rolled hard, getting the hell out of the way. As he changed course, the toxic cloud blanketed the sky, stalling Razorbacks in mid-flight, stealing the air from their lungs an instant before Wick breathed out. Blue-white flame streamed from his throat as Wick lit the fuse on Venom’s special brand of poison and…
    Kaboom!
    Steel groaned as the blast went nuclear, rolling out in a toxic wave. Shipping containers flew like cardboard boxes, flipping end over end. Blown out of the sky, three Razorbacks fell, ashing out as the others scattered. Bastian jacked up the invisibility cloak, wrapping the shipyard up tight. The only human he wanted to see tonight was Myst and, well…now, that she carried his child she wasn’t 100 percent human anymore. And as he engaged a Razorback, slicing through scale and bone to snap the rogue’s neck, he couldn’t help thinking, “Fantastic, just one more thing to fuck me up.”
    Myst wasn’t going to like it when he told her that.

    Trapped inside the shipping container, Myst scrambled as Ivar came at her like a heavyweight boxing champion. She veered right. He countered and, swinging his arm, back-handed her. The strike sent her sideways, snapping her head back, and as her cheek throbbed, her blood flowed, filling her mouth before sliding down her throat. She gagged, but didn’t buckle. No way would she bend. The bastard could hammer her into unconsciousness, but she wouldn’t give him a single drop…not one ounce of the energy surging inside her.
    Ivar raised his hand again. This time she saw the whites of his knuckles and a closed fist, not an open palm. He was running out of patience, and she, out of time.
    Stay strong. Stay strong.
    The blow hammered her in the ribcage. She listed sideways and