Page 126 of Fortune's Blade

But that was all secondary stuff, because none of us had been the target. Regin had. And he gave a scream that let me know some damage had been done.

They had probably targeted him because, unlike his son’s sleek covering of scales, he had numerous areas where his protection was less than perfect. And some of them were now on fire. I saw flames leaping from cracks in his hide on the side they’d hit, and if I’d thought he was thrashing before, it was nothing to this.

My fleshy shield went flying and it was everything I could do not to follow him, clinging for all I was worth to the huge mane and feeling like my fingers were about to tear off. Even worse, the fey jumped onto Louis-Cesare en masse, and before I could help him, the bastard who had been electrocuted at my side in the initial attack suddenly decided to get back into the game. And punched me.

Only no, he punched me, hard enough to send me skidding on my back down the great spine. I can take a hit or three, but that one shook me. Enough that while I noticed him running at me full tilt, I couldn’t do much about it.

Except to catch his fist with my face a half dozen more times, each landing before I had a chance to recover from the last.

And it looked like the shock we’d sustained had rattled his brains, because he was freaking suicidal, acting like he’d forgotten that we were half a mile up. The wind was threatening to send us flying at any moment, his long hair was blowing everywhere and intermittently blinding us, and our bodies were slipping and sliding on the large, slick scales right above the thrashing tail, where there was no mane to catch us.

Yet all he could seem to see was me.

Looked like one of the guys I’d killed had been his friend, assuming these bastards had such a thing. And he was furious about it, knocking away my favorite gun before I’d gotten off a shot, not that it would have hit him. I couldn’t aim; I could barely see; and my punches weren’t landing with anything like their usual force.

So, I bit him instead, sinking tiny fangs into his neck and hoping for the jugular.

I missed because I was dizzy and not a vamp, and gnawing somebody to death isn’t nearly as easy as it sounds. But it sure as hell does panic them. He screamed, an inhuman sound that echoed like all the demons in hell had decided to form a chorus, and was so completely unexpected that it flustered me.

Enough that I drew back and stared at him out of a bloody face, only he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking past me, with an expression that said he had something else to worry about. And then that horrible sound came again, but it wasn’t coming from him; it was a dragon’s scream, although not one I knew.

It was higher pitched than any I’d heard, enough to be a weapon all on its own, slicing through the air like a blade straight to my eardrum. And it was getting closer. It was getting a lot closer, but I couldn’t tell the direction, I couldn’t tell anything, and I wouldn’t have been able to even if I could see straight.

Because in the few seconds while I was being beaten to death, things had gone completely fubar.

Fire was everywhere, although whether from Antem or someone else, I didn’t know. But it was probably more than one source, because slashes of flame crisscrossed above us, shedding hellish light onto the scene. It didn’t help with visibility, as the smoke from the remains of the burning vessels was spreading everywhere, since our forward momentum had stopped while Regin fought it out mid-air with somebody or something.

Something with claws that scraped across the great back a second later and almost raked us right off, leaving my assailant and I rolling out of the way and looking up—

And finally seeing the new problem, a massive purple dragon, although that was as much as I could tell with the smoke and the fire and the wildly bucking surface underneath me, as Regin finally decided that the threat was too great to worry about providing us with a stable platform.

I felt him start to roll, felt my body start to slide, and grabbed the fey a split second before we flipped upside down. He’d been doing his best to kill me a moment ago, but he was now my savior, only not by choice. But by virtue of the knife that he’d just plunged into Regin’s back in a desperate attempt to hang on.

He’d found a chink in the armor, and driven the blade in sideways, all the way to the hilt. That allowed him to hit the still whole scales below the knife as we rotated, preventing it from slipping out again and us from plunging to our deaths. It probably wasn’t enough to seriously damage such a huge creature but did not make him happy.

It did me.

I held onto the fey as the great body rolled over, spilling some of his comrades off the side while he clutched the knife for all he was worth. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the smoother hide down here, and somehow found it, like mine found some around him. And he didn’t even try to throw me off, as he was clearly too terrified.

Guess Svarestri boot camp didn’t cover this one, huh? I thought, and stabbed him.

He looked back at me in shock more than anything else, because he must have thought that he was safe as long as we were upside down. But I didn’t need him, I needed his knife; the same one he was going to stab me with as soon as we rolled back over. Which we did as I grabbed his blade, as I twisted my own, as I saw the light die in his eyes and pushed him off.

And stood up again, bloody, beaten, and holding two knives now, as I tore the fey’s free of Regin’s back.

Because they do cover shit like this in dhampir boot camp. The lesson was the first I’d ever learned: survive. And make sure that your partner does, too, only Louis-Cesare didn’t need the help.

He raised a bloody face to me with fangs fully extended, and then threw away the empty he had just finished draining. It looked like the group who’d jumped him hadn’t had a good time, including those who had somehow managed to hold on for the ride. Maybe especially those, I thought, seeing drained, withered fey with hands and feet still tucked under scales or tangled in that great mane, and all but fluttering in the breeze as they were now basically husks.

And the dragon who had been menacing us wasn’t doing any better, as he or she was currently getting eaten by Antem.

Lord Rathen had been right when he said the guy liked to show off. Because he’d wrapped his body all the way around his father’s attacker while he feasted, and now he let his prey go with half of the creature’s face missing and a long stream of blood spurting over the crazy, smoke riddled scene. And roared his defiance at the skies.

I stared at him for a moment, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, because that was one of those images that stayed with you. Years from now, centuries even, I would remember that. Assuming I survived, which was debatable as our orientation had just shifted.

We were diving, so suddenly that I ran down the length of the spine helplessly, and practically airborne. Until Louis-Cesare grabbed me and pulled me back from the abyss, and I clung to him, both of us crouching and grabbing onto the great mane, while I stared around, looking for the next attack. But there didn’t seem to be one.

Amazingly, the fey were gone now and we were moving so fast that I defied any more to catch us, so fast that the only reason I wasn’t blown off was the strong arms around me.

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