Page 131 of Red Fury
There’s no doubt in my mind that Shadow would be dead if I hadn’t arrived when I did. The thought makes me want to tear him apart, but I hold back. I want him to suffer a little first.
My tail slices through the air like a whip, the razor-sharp tip catching him across the face. His skin parts, blood flowing freely down his cheek. He staggers but doesn’t go down.
Instead, he comes at me, moving like a blur and landing a blow to my snout. I don’t so much as move. Smoke wafts from my nostrils as I swipe at him with my front legs.
There is a satisfying snap. He screams, grabbing his arm, which is now at a strange angle. Good! I want him to hurt. I want him to suffer.
I throw my head into the air and growl, flames licking from my mouth. Kozlov cowers away, still cradling his arm.
As soon as I face him once again, he comes at me. The asshole doesn’t know when to quit. Perhaps if he begged for his life, I might… Nah, I can’t leave him breathing. I know he’d come after Shadow again. Only one of us is leaving alive.
I bash him with one of my wings, and he goes down again. As I crouch down to inflict more damage, he grabs a handful of sand and throws it directly into my eyes.
Still playing dirty.
The grit hits me like a thousand tiny needles, and I rear back with a roar of pain and fury. My vision blurs, tears streaming down my scaled face as I try to blink away the irritation. It takes precious seconds to clear the worst of it.
I spin toward the sound, still half-blind, just in time to see Kozlov aiming the gun at me again. He must have gotten to it while I was distracted. There’s that familiar pop of compressed air. This time, he’s aiming at my wings. I start to move, butI know I’m not going to get out of the way this time. Shadow throws herself at Kozlov with everything she has left, just as the gun goes off.
The shot goes wide, the dart disappearing into the night.
Kozlov hits Shadow, and she goes down hard. She hits the earth with a sickening thud and doesn’t get back up. Her eyes are open, thank fuck, and I can see her chest rising and falling, but her breathing is shallow, and she’s so pale she looks like a ghost.
I roar, consumed by a rage that has my vision narrowing on Kozlov.
I punch the bastard with the full force of my shifted strength behind it. The impact sends him flying backward, and the gun goes sailing through the air again. This time, I don’t let it get away.
I stomp on it with one massive, clawed foot, crushing it to pieces under my weight. I screech my rage at the night sky, smoke curling around me.
Then I turn back to Kozlov, who’s struggling to get to his feet, with his broken arm dangling uselessly at his side.
I stalk toward him slowly, deliberately, letting him see his death approaching. When I’m done with him, there will be nothing left but a blackened mark on the ground. He’ll be ash, and I’ll scatter him to the wind.
Just as I’m about to incinerate the bastard, the unmistakable sound of rotor blades cuts through the night air.
Two choppers appear, moving fast and descending quickly. The downdraft from their rotors whips the grass around us into a frenzy, and dust churns up in choking clouds.
I shift back to human form immediately and run to Shadow, throwing myself down beside her and shielding her body with mine.
The choppers land, engines winding down but rotors still spinning.
I’m preparing to shift and to fly Shadow to safety when a figure steps out of the lead chopper. I suck in a deep breath.
What the hell is this?
It’s Kozlov.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He’s in a business suit, complete with cufflinks that catch the light from the helicopter’s spots. His hair is styled, his face clean and unmarked. He looks like he just stepped out of a boardroom.
I look from the bloody, broken male on the ground to the one who just emerged from the helicopter. One is covered in blood and dirt. The other looks like he’s ready for a fucking photo shoot.
But they’re identical. Same face, same build, same pale blue eyes. Even the scar is in the same place.
“His brother,” Shadow whispers from the ground. “Must be a twin,” she croaks, her eyes fluttering closed.
I drop to my knees beside her, scooping her up and cradling her against my chest. Her head lolls back, lifeless, and my heart stops for a terrifying moment before I feel the weak flutter of her pulse against my wrist.
She’s alive. Barely.
