Page 28 of His Fiery Mate

“Damn straight. Let’s go.”

Tanner crawled up on Melisandre’s back, using her leg as a kind of step. Settling himself between some of her spine ridges, he tightened his grip on Melisandre’s spiked scales. She stood up stiffly and he thought about trying to stop her, but he realized even weakened, as determined as she was, she would not be swayed from her course. She took several trotting steps and then launched herself from the ridge, her powerful wings sending a gust of wind that scattered ash and embers in all directions. The wildfire still burned below, but its once loud and powerful roar was now a death whimper.

His focus was on staying on Melisandre who flew carefully. He examined her wings as best he could from his vantage point and saw that some of the gossamer webbing had been singed. She seemed to be heading to the water tower in the distance. If he reached out with his own enhanced senses, he could feel they were on the right course. The arsonist had to be hiding or worse yet, planning another fire. The wildfire had been no accident; it had been a deliberate act of destruction, and Tanner was as determined as Melisandre to stop the culprit from escaping.

Melisandre's massive wings beat rhythmically, carrying them swiftly through the smoky and star-filled sky. Above them, the aurora borealis crackled in an angry rhythm he had not seen before.

“They aren’t happy,” she said.

“Who?”

“The northern lights. They’re made up of the spirits of dragons who have died valiantly in battle.”

“Sort of a dragon Valhalla?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. I’ll ask them to make an exception so we can travel the night sky between time and space together for all eternity.”

Tanner’s gift of gab seemed to fail him. No one had ever wanted to spend eternity with him. It was a good thing because he had no intention of spending even another minute without her.

Her ice blue eyes glinted with fierce intelligence as she navigated the turbulent night air, her keen senses attuned to the landscape below. Tanner crouched low, the heat from the fire a distant, fading sensation as they soared higher.

"Hold on tight," Melisandre's voice rumbled in his mind, a deep, melodic tone that matched her formidable presence. "We're almost there."

Tanner nodded, his jaw set in grim determination. The water tower loomed closer, a stark silhouette against the backdrop of the harbor lights. He could see a figure moving at its base, a shadowy outline that he now recognized as the chief’s administrative aide, Stuart.

As they approached, Melisandre began to descend, her movements fluid and graceful despite her size and injuries. She landed with a ground-shaking thud, her wings folding neatly against her sides. Tanner slid off her back, landing lightly on his feet, and immediately drew his fire axe, the only weapon he’d had available to him.

"Stay back!" Stuart shouted, his voice high and panicked. He was a wiry man with wild eyes, holding a gas canister in one hand and a lighter in the other. "I'll burn everything if you come any closer!"

“Why, Stuart?” asked Tanner.

“The mayor was trying to cut our funding. And you know who loses their jobs first? Not you, pretty boy, or the chief’s other darling firefighters, but support staff—guys like me. I love my job and my life here, and that bitch was trying to take it. I just showed her how much she needed us.”

“But why the wildfire?”

“You two were closing in. I already knew you were a shifter, but I only recently realized what kind, and I had no idea there was a dragon in town. I don’t understand why you’re helping him. Dragons and hellhounds are mortal enemies.”

“Not so much when they’re fated mates,” Tanner said, taking a step toward him to distract him as Melisandre tried to get behind him.

“Stop it,” Stuart said moving back. “I swear I’ll send the whole city up in flames.”

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Tanner replied, his voice cold and steady. "Drop the lighter and the canister. Now."

Stuart’s eyes darted between Tanner and Melisandre, fear and desperation warring on his face. "You don’t understand! This fire is just the beginning! I?—"

Before he could finish, Melisandre let out a low, menacing growl, her eyes fixed on the man with a predator's intensity. The arsonist flinched, his grip on the lighter faltering. In the blink of an eye, Stuart shifted to his ice phoenix form.

“Smash him with the axe,” said Melisandre.

She really was quite bloodthirsty, and it really turned him on.

Tanner threw the axe, and part of the ice phoenix split off and shattered on the ground. Tanner moved, scooped up the axe, using it like the battle axes that had been used long ago to devastate armies. Shards of ice glittered in the pale moonlight, remnants of the fierce battle that raged between Tanner and Stuart as he tried desperately to complete the shift to his ice phoenix. But Tanner was relentless, striking the ice over and over, breaking it into hundreds of pieces.

Tanner was vaguely aware that Melisandre, her blue and silver scales glinting with flecks of frost, stayed out of the way, her eyes never leaving the monstrous avian. Stuart was an imposing figure of crystalline ice and fierce blue flames; he screeched in defiance, his half-formed wings beating to try and summon a blizzard. The cold wind bit at Tanner's exposed skin, but he gripped his axe tighter, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air.

With a roar, Tanner charged, his axe raised high. Stuart retaliated, a torrent of icy spikes shooting toward Tanner. Melisandre reacted swiftly, unleashing a stream of scorching flames that melted the ice mid-air, turning the attack into harmless steam.

“Tanner, now!” Melisandre’s voice echoed in his mind, filled with urgency.

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