Page 28 of Draco's Fire

From an angle, he could see his truck. That would be the last bit of cover he'd have before he'd have nothing to hide behind.

Tyson used the door frame to pull himself to standing. The world spun a little, and he felt very cold.

Fuck, he thought to himself.Am I going into shock? Would I know it if I was?

Now was not the time for him to consider whether or not the bullet wound was enough to cause that. He needed to dash to the truck and then run as fast as his now somewhat wobbly legs would carry him. He knew this was going to suck.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his shaking body before bounding down the porch steps and diving behind the truck. The acrobatic maneuver might not have been his wisest choice since he ended up landing more on his wounded shoulder than he had intended to.

But there was a clarity in the pain. If he was still feeling pain, that was a good sign, right?

There was a spot he could run to. Transforming might knock over some fencing, but those wooden posts were far more forgiving than the ranch house's support frame. He took another deep breath, suppressing the urge to vomit from the pain.

He'd have to get at least fifty yards from the house, turn at the proper angle, and then he'd be clear to transform without the danger of breaking something. It was a strange thing for him to suddenly wish he was a much smaller dragon.

All he had to do was run half the length of a football field, something he could do easily. Though he'd never tried it after getting shot, and he didn't know if he'd even make it that far before someone shot him again.

But there was only one way to find out, and he couldn't waste time with Shayla's life at stake. So, he ran as fast as he could to the spot he estimated was far enough from the house, turned slightly, and unleashed the dragon within him.

Eighteen

Shayla

Shayla moved through the woods carefully, trying not to step on a dry twig. She didn't want to give away her position. It would have been easier without the fog, but the fog was the only thing that meant she could get close enough to the sniper to disarm them.

While the shooter could opt for the spray and pray method, that seemed unlikely. Randomly shooting into the fog would be a stupid decision. Though, the person had tried to kill a dragon being guarded by one of the fae with a sniper rifle. Maybe they weren't all that intelligent to begin with. Stupid people made dumb decisions.

She had to move slowly to avoid anything that would make a sound. It was getting harder and harder. The ground was starting to become a mix of tangled roots, loose rock, and thick grass. She moved between tall trees and large boulders, just in case the sniper had something that would allow them to see through the fog.

She steadied her breathing so that she'd hear the faintest rustle if the sniper tried to move from his position. She had a general idea of where they were, but it wasn't exact.

She'd have to lower the fog to be sure. She didn't want to stumble on them, so when she was as close as she dared to be to where she thought the shooter was, she lowered the fog.

She had a fraction of a second as she saw the barrel of the sniper rifle dip back into camouflage. The shooter wore a ghillie suit, so they looked so much like several tufts of grass she wouldn't have seen them if they'd moved a second sooner.

She wasn't going to give them a chance to try and blend in again. She tapped into her fae powers and dropped fairy fire on her target. It sounded more harmful than it was. It wouldn't hurt him, but it did make him glow like a beacon. There would be no way for him to escape now, even with the best camouflage.

"Fuck!" he cursed. And while he couldn't hide, it didn't mean he couldn't fight. Abandoning the rifle, he drew a sidearm, a pistol of some kind, and fired at her.

Shayla ducked behind a tree and felt the impact of the bullets into the soft wood. It hadn't been enough to penetrate all the way through, but for a brief second, she had worried it might. The stupid human might have had a gun, but he was dealing with a fae. She was by no means defenseless.

She summoned a magic bolt of energy, a crackling spark of arcane power. She barely poked her head out enough to aim and hurled her magic in the direction of the shooter. But it just crackled along the edge of the boulder the shooter was hiding behind. Or the one she thought he was hiding behind.

Then the gunfire came from a slightly different direction. It was just luck that she crouched when she did, or the shots would have killed her. He was trying to flank her. She wasn't going to give him the chance.

It wasn't terribly easy to throw magical energy, but she tossed bolt after bolt. She wasn't going to give him time to take aim as she moved into better cover. She didn't know how much ammunition he had, but she was starting to tire a little. She couldn't keep this up forever.

There was a large fallen tree that would let her get closer to him and at least obstruct his line of sight. The tree had fallen some time ago, and the wood was rotting and didn't look very sturdy. She didn't know if the rotting wood could stop a bullet or several if he saw her coming. She'd have to be quick and hope he didn't see her.

She fired one last bolt and then moved along the wooden barrier nature had provided for her. When she popped up, a few feet to the right of the shooter, she could hear his soft, subtle gasp of shock. She'd surprised him. He took a step back, trying to give himself enough room to raise his gun at her.

His foot must have caught on a loose stone or jutting tree root because, with a slightly undignified yelp, he tumbled backward, the hood of his ghillie suit thrown back. Still, instead of revealing his face, it was just another mask underneath. The force and surprise of the fall caused him to squeeze the trigger, firing off a round that grazed her right shoulder.

Then he pointed his gun at her head, for a moment, she thought she'd made a grave error. He'd fallen, but he was close enough that now with a second to aim, she was dead.

He pulled the trigger.

Click.

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