Page 22 of Chase Me

She dug her fingers into the dirt in front of her and claweduntil chunks began falling away. She imagined the great green dragon fighting against knights in not so shining armor. “Please, move a little more.”

The ground didn't open up like it had before, but each handful she grabbed and pushed away came out easier. The tiny amount of space she had around her quickly filled with clumps of dirt. Thank goodness for the light from the necklace or she'd be feeling awfully claustrophobic. Wait, up ahead, yes, a pinprick of moonlight shined through the ground. She wiggled her butt and legs, inching herself up. Her arm must look like one of Michael Jackson's Thriller zombies coming out of the ground. One more boost and her head and shoulders surfaced too.

The grass around her was stained with black, burnt smudges. Ew. She didn't want to touch or smell whatever it was that used to be.

She glanced around, looking for both the danger and Jakob. She heard his deep growl before she saw him. There, directly behind her, a hundred yards into the field next to the villa. The same green dragon who had swept her away was rearing up and slashing at very scary looking black lizard-like creatures.

Only they weren't anyone's pet lizards. They were only half Jakob's size, but there were so many.

The dragon whipped its tail around, and huge spikes at the end caught one of the lizard people in the face. The ugly lizard thing disintegrated, leaving only that same ashy stain on the ground where it had been.

Holy crap balls, Batman. There were at least two dozen of those black marks all over the ground between her and Jakob. He'd killed so many, and yet there were still at least ten more attacking him.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and all the saints. She was getting the hell out of here.

Ciara climbed the rest of the way out of the ground, and the hole instantly filled in behind her. The only trace was the lack of grass. She turned and fled as fast as her bare feet would carry her away from the melee. She had no idea where she was going, but there had to be another house, or a town, or something nearby. Right? Right.

She was no runner, and she got a stitch in her side before she even broke a sweat. She didn't want to slow down, but what if one of those things came after her?

A dirt road wound around the edge of the area in front of the Villa. Maybe if she stuck to it, a car or a wagon, given by the antiquated look of the road, would come by.

Ciara ignored the pricks and pains her feet were enduring on the walk – jog – walk she was pushing herself to do. As soon as she got home, she was getting a pedicure. And a security system, and some mace, and maybe a Taser. Oh, and therapy.

Although, if she told anyone the truth about what had happened to her in the past twenty-four hours, they would lock her up in a loony bin. Because that's what her story would be, Looney Tunes.

DEMON DRAGONS

Jakob used the momentum of tunneling up from the cavern to propel him into the sky. The instant he had the room, he unfurled his wings and circled the villa. He caught a colorful flash out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't a demon dragon, but when he turned to see what it was, he found the black enemy.

The inky black bastards were digging up his garden like Peter Rabbits from hell. Of course, it was strategically placed directly above his lair. They were rapidly creating a deep crater in the earth. If there had only been a handful of them, he wouldn't be worried that they would reach the cavern, but there had to be at least fifty, digging, clawing, and desperate to get to his treasure.

He'd destroyed ten times that many in battle, but not all at the same time. This was the largest horde of evil he'd ever seen gathered in one place. Fuck. He'd sent Steele away earlier that day and now he had no backup.

The majority of the wyrms dug, but ten or so standing around the edge lifted their faces to the sky, searching him out,hissing. They couldn't fly with their minuscule wings, but Jakob also couldn't destroy them from up here. Destroy them he would.

Nothing would touch his treasure.

Nothing had ever touched what was his.

Except a sexy, sneaky, sumptuous witch.

Not the time or the place to think about her and the way she made him want to – grrr. Get your head in the game, dumb dragon, or you’ll never get the chance to play all those dirty games with her and that plump ass.

Jakob roared, gathering his focus again. Never in his memory had a horde attacked a Wyvern's home directly. It was as if they knew his villa was vulnerable at the moment. Normally, he would have had a squad of dragon warriors in and around the seat of the green dragon stronghold.

Even so, they’d made a huge mistake coming here. He’d have a good time showing them why, and work off some of the frustration that had worked its way into his muscles in the past two days.

He dove, tucking in tight, and screeched towards the clump gathered at the edge of the crater. He slashed the throat of the first demon dragon and caught two more with the spikes on his tail. Power and strength buzzed through his bloodstream, rippled across his scales.

Oh, yeah. This was going to be fun.

The soul shard at his throat hummed with energy. A force he hadn't known before flowed through him. The outline of each wyrm sharpened. He could hear their ragged breathing even beneath the shrieks of anger. Their acrid scent burned his nostrils, the flavor of their blackened blood stains surged across his tongue.

The power of his dragon swelled inside and stretched,spreading from nose to tail, from wing tip to wing tip. His wings pounded the air as he swooped up over the horde again. This dragon form was at least twice or even three times the size of any of them, and felt enormous, like the first time he’d ever shifted as a youngling.

Wherever he was receiving this new power from, he’d take it, and use it to defeat anything standing in his way. As long as the surge of intensity would last, Jakob would take advantage of it.

He twisted in the air and landed hard, like Thor’s hammer to the ground. He swiped and clawed and crushed any within his reach. More popped up in their places. The spittle of fire, their lowly attempts to harm him were futile. The ground became dark, littered with the black stains left behind by the wyrm’s death.

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