Page 164 of Gemini Kings
God damn it, I’m still too far away—
The air splits around a pure silver cry. A diamond glitter snares my gaze.
Vasili streaks past the twisting snarl of dragon vs. dragon in flying snake form and sprays that horrid red demon head with a flurry of snow and hail that encases her face with ice.
This fix is only temporary, but at least that bitch’s jaws are glued shut till she can melt the ice.
Right away she starts clawing at her muzzle (because the ice is also blocking her airway). While she’s distracted and vulnerable, Max fights his way free and wings unsteadily away. Horrific-looking gashes gouge his belly and flanks, his snout is slashed and bleeding, his steaming green ichor splatters the air in gobbets.
He’sinjured.
That bitch fuckinghurthim.
The same way she’s been fucking hurting him his whole life.
My whole body tingles and swells with the electric voltage of rage.
I’m about to go full cray when a brand-new visual explodes in my brain. That’s Ronin, the strongest telepath at Icarus, literally shoving into my head what he wants me to do.
Okay, sohe’sthe one going full cray while he watches the firefight from down there on the mountain. From his vantage, Ronin’s helpless to act, and he’s full-on losing his shit. After all, Max is his mate too. And so am I.
And Vasili’s pretty close to losing his own shit, which never ends well for anyone.
My snake’s telekinesis doesn’t work in dragon form (we’ve learned) because he doesn’t have access to his casting hand (or any hand). Now he’s hovering close to Max, his iridescent wings an agitated blur of movement. I realize it’s because he’s worried our dragon’s losing so much blood he’ll pass out.
At which point, he’ll fall.
Well, shit.
Looks like we’re gonna do this Ronin’s way.
I twist around to confront Big Red, who’s just managed to claw and steam the ice off her muzzle. I bellow in the lightning voice. The mother of all lightning forks from my mouth and slams into that red bitch’s chest like a fucking locomotive.
She’s so big and such a goddamn monster that even my best shot in dragon form doesn’t stop her. But my bolt blackens her chest, knocks the air she’s desperately trying to replenish out of her dragon lungs, and throws her backward through the air.
Bet that got her attention.
I trumpet in derision, kinda the verbal equivalent of flipping her the bird, and plunge in a nosedive for the mountain. The big red bitch screams in rage and plunges after me.
Stay with Max,I send wildly to Vasili.Get him down safe. I mean it, Goblin King. He needs you.
I just hope he listens (though he isn’t known for that). I hope both of them listen, and just leave the fight now to me.
And to Ronin.
The dark slope of the mountain looms right in front of me. My gaze locks on a rocky ledge that overlooks a steep plummet. Big Red’s breathing down my neck, and I rely on all my speed and agility to twist and veer in case she gets a fix on me and bathes me in dragonfire.
I’m banking on the fact that she’s pissed enough right now to want to rip me apart with her bare claws. It’s definitely not the most efficient way to kill. But she’s not into efficient.
Like a psycho, she kills for pleasure.
The ledge is right in front of me when Ronin winks into view.
He can’t teleport, but Racetrack can. That’s her Mogadon gift, and her witchcraft’s strong as fuck. She’s no telepath, but she can teleport herself, and anyone else she wants, as long as she’s seen where she’s porting. The light dancing glide of Dez’s telepathic touch—one finger of awareness touching me, one brushing Ronin, the rest of her locked onto RT who’s physically with her—Dez links us all together.
It’s Dez who’s looking through my eyes and showing Racetrack where to teleport.
It goes against every shred of protective instinct that I have, but I tilt and veer to expose my mate to the dragon. Glowing with infrared heat, a curtain of inky hair billowing behind him, his face snarling and suffused with rage, Ronin’s arms sweep up. Golden fire sprays from his outspread hands.
