Page 37 of Dragons' Mate
CHAPTER16
Quinton
Each pack was siloed. Quinton slammed into the invisible barrier blocking him from jumping down to the arena below, the force of the impact sending him backwards against a similar wall on the other side. His ribs were broken in at least two places, courtesy of his previous attempts to force his way through the partition. Now though, Quinton had a new reason to find an escape—Geoffrey needed killing.
On the serpentine parapet below, Kit struggled to get up. Cyril managed to redirect the worst of Geoffrey's murderous blow, but the assault had sent Kit into convulsions before showering her and her friend with a geyser of rocks and earth. She was injured. Her leg, her temple, her side. Kit’s pain rolled through the bond.
Quinton soaked it up through the connection between them, feeding calm and confidence back toward his mate. Not an easy feat given that he was anything but calm. The confidence in her was the truth though. If anyone was able to survive, it was Kit. But she was only one mortal and she had Geoffrey and everyone else who was deciding to throw their lot in with the bastard obsidian dragon gunning for her.
She needed to get up. To move. That was the only way she could make it out alive.
“Lee. We have to go.” Kit’s voice sounded determined through a haze of pain. The arena was set up to allow the dragons to hear the humans below, but the reverse wasn’t true. The humans could not hear the dragons, nor could the dragons speak to each other. Not with words at least. Actions though? Yes, those were clear.
Quinton bared his teeth at Geoffrey, then marked every other pack who leaned into Geoffrey’s lead to harm Kit. A few had the sense to step back from the catwalk’s edge, raising their palms into the air. Backing out of this fight. For now.
Geoffrey however only smiled like a self-satisfied snake preparing to swallow a mouse whole. The male's pupils were slitted and darkened to nearly all black, his pack standing smugly behind him.
Down below, Kit and Lee got to their feet, helping each other along the path. Of their pack, Tavias and Cyril could both wield magic at a distance and in raw form, Hauck was piss poor without a direct connection with his element, and Quinton could do nothing without touch. Lee’s pack was a well-meaning but weak bunch, barely equal to Hauck’s power put together.
Quinton gathered all his power, threw it into the magical barrier, as if it were a living body he was testing for flaws. The magic vibrated at the intrusion. A start. If Quinton could get to and make an example of Geoffrey—
Hauck grabbed the front of Quinton's tunic and shoved him back. "You are no good to anyone dead," Hauck said, his voice more authoritative than Quinton had ever heard before. "And you are well on your way to getting there."
Quinton growled, but Hauck wasn’t wrong. He focused on Kit. Being here, forced to watch her struggle, was a new kind of torture.
Flashes of destructive magic illuminated the arena below, searing the air in bolts of lightning and spears of air and catapulting stones. Cyril and Tavias threw themselves into shielding the humans from assaults, the crowd of spectators cheering whenever a new spear of magic found its way through their efforts.
Kit and her friend reached the final bend in the parapet, the air charged with so much raw power that Quinton felt it prickling his skin. Kit was close. Cyril and Tavias held fast. Seeing the final empty stretch of path sent Quinton’s heart into a maddening rhythm.
“We’ve got this,” Lee shouted. “We -”
Lee fell to the ground, a trickle of blood running down her temple. She rolled toward the edge. Kit grabbed Lee before she could topple over, nearly sending them both toward the piranhas’ lair.
“Did that hurt?” Bianca called from behind them. Stars, it was her who’d thrown the stone. The first violence between the humans on the parapet.
“Are you insane?” Kit demanded, putting herself between Bianca and Lee. Quinton wasn’t surprised. Kit was brave and kind to a fault. But she was also injured and that bravery might cost her her life.
“Insane? No. But I am smart.” Bianca hurled a second stone, which Kit took on her shoulder. A pang of pain shot through the bond.
“Lee, go,” Kit yelled, drawing her dagger. “Run.”
Lee shook her head even as she swayed.
“Run,” Kit ordered in a voice to rival a dragon. She was magnificent. “You are of no help to me. Go.” She shoved Lee forward with more strength than Quinton thought she had. “Now.”
Lee took off, moving with greater speed than Kit could have. Quinton would have blamed the girl for leaving, but Kit was right—Lee was too dazed to be of help. He wished Kit ran too, but her leg was much too hurt to outrun Bianca.
Raising her chin with a stubbornness Quinton knew all too well, Kit faced Bianca.
Bianca charged, aiming to strike Kit's injured side. Uninjured and larger, Bianca moved like someone trained for the kill.
Quinton poured all of himself into the bond.
Kit bladed herself on the narrow path, somehow dodging Bianca’s headlong rush. “We don’t all have to die for someone to win,” Kit gasped out. “We aren’t enemies.”
“If you believe that, you are stupider than I thought.” Bianca twisted, landing a punch on Kit’s jaw.
Kit spun and swiped with her dagger. The blade whistled through the air, the crowd of spectators watching with stunned intensity. The magic assaults of the dragons halted too, Geoffrey not willing to accidentally send his own human stumbling off the parapet.
