Page 81 of Just Dare Me
“There!” I point ahead, where the hellhound is chasing a city bus. “Put your seat belt on.” I close the distance just as the beast is lowering its head, ready to plow into the bus. I swerve into its path, clipping the heel of its hind leg. Arael staggers sideways, legs clattering together. The beast plows into the front of a building, leaving a hole in the shape of its body.
As I steady the wheel, zooming past, the demon dog pounces, its snapping teeth barely missing my back bumper. We’re eclipsed by a shadow, and Nick’s dragon attacks, taking advantage of my distraction. They parry each other’s attacks, snarling and swiping and clawing. When the dog charges up another fire attack, Nick has to flee again, soaring high out of range. But all that fire’s gotta go somewhere, and so the beast runs after me, letting loose.
“Hit it!” Nora screams.
“I am!” The pedal is floored. The green fire chases us, licking at my back tires, but is unable to overtake us. Doesn’t get closer than that. The hellhound falls back, then changes direction.
“No!” Nora screams. “Shayne!”
“I know!” The beast is bounding straight for Campus Martius park, where thousands of people are gathered at the starting line of the marathon. I spin us around, tires smoking, and race in a beeline for the demon dog. Just as it leaps past the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, entering the park’s campus, I intercept its course. It sidesteps, lunges at us. I crank the wheel, hit the brakes, sliding between its legs, tripping it.
Crunch!My Crap-pile’s roof caves in under the weight of the beast as it rolls over us, then backs away, limping. I prepare to zip away when Nora does the unthinkable—she unbuckles her seat belt, throws her door open, and jumps out.
I can’t do shit about that now. Arael’s making another lunge at my car. Panicked, I hit the gas too hard, and my tires spin. That’s it. No escaping this time. Those teeth will clamp down on my hood, then rip the entire engine out.
As if hitting an invisible wall, the hellhound stops mid-strike. Blinking, it flinches back, then turns to address Nora, standing alone at its feet, looking tiny and insignificant. Her hands are outstretched. Her mouth is open. She’s singing.
I don’t wait around to see more. Punching the gas, I tear across the park, honking at the crowds to disperse, run for cover, get the hell out. At a safe distance from the hound, I spin a donut, skidding to a stop in a ring of smoke. When it clears, I have a front-row seat to the action—what I feel must be the final play of the game. Sudden death. Winner take all.
Nora sings, and the beast is affected, but not dominated. It takes a step back, shaking its head, trying to break the mental shackles of her siren song. Nick’s dragon dives in, but the hound is on guard, snapping out of Nora’s thrall, preparing a fire attack. Nick swerves away.
Nora steps forward, raising her voice, commanding the hound’s attention. But it’s obvious she won’t be able to overpower the beast. A mythic’s physical might, combined with Arael’s drive—it’s too powerful, even for a siren. Convulsing under the stress of her song, the demon arches its back. One by one, the peaks of greenish-yellow flames on its back are sucked down into its body.
In that moment, I make my choice. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Somebody has to take the hit. Nick can’t take another one, and I won’t let it be Nora. Not a chance. My dominance explodes with satisfaction, craving this opportunity to prove to my people how far I’m willing to go to assert my ownership of their safety.
I shove into gear and slam the gas. My Crap-pile growls hungrily, eating the pavement, taking off like a shot, aimed at the beast.
A sudden intruder flashes into view from my right, cutting me off. I veer, sliding out of control, my direct shot at the hellhound now claimed by another car—a familiar black Mustang with gold rims.
“Ben!” I scream, at first out of shock and anger, but then with unapologetic pride. These unhinged, unrelenting Cody boys—they just can’t stop following me, poor little Shayne, who always needs saving. And once again, they’re going to get their way. I had said before that there was no possible way Ben could redeem himself, restore his honor in the pack. I was wrong. I pound the steering wheel. “Go, Ben! Go, you psychopathic son-of-a-bitch! Take it!”
He does, and just in time. The hellhound opens its mouth, ready to unleash green hell on Nora. At the last second, it’s forced to pivot, acknowledging this new threat. The blast erupts, shooting away from Nora, directly at the Mustang, which instantly explodes. Orange and green fire mix. The Mustang dissolves in the hurricane, the beast releasing everything it’s got.
And that’s just enough distraction. Nick’s dragon jets in, fangs bared, clamping down on the dog’s neck, slamming its massive head to the ground.
Now, I may not have Nora’s telepathic connection to Nick’s dragon, but I sure as hell read his thoughts right now. I grin like a fox and say, “Don’t have to ask me twice!”
My foot crushes the gas pedal. White knuckles on the wheel. The hellhound tries to twist away. Nick’s teeth sink deeper into its neck, pinning the snarling demon head to the ground, directly in my path. Nora runs for cover.
My speedometer breaks eighty by the time the beast’s head fills the view outside my windshield. I have time only to shut my eyes and clench my teeth before the world explodes with sound and glass and fire. I’m thrown against the constraints of my seat belt, then whipped from side to side, then floating weightless as my Crap-pile flies into an airborne roll, crashes down, flips again, lands upside down and skids with a horrendous scraping noise, the roof spitting sparks against pavement.
Blood rushes to my head. I’m hanging upside down, tangled in my seat belt. Greenish-yellow fire spreads quickly across the back seat, then catches onto the passenger seat next to me. I try to release my seat belt, but the button is mangled, besides being so hot that my fingers are instantly burned. Green flames lick at my jacket sleeve.
Frantic shouting from somewhere behind me. It’s Nora. “Shayne! Get out! Hurry!”
No more time. The locked seat belt cuts into my legs and chest. The only way out is to shift. In a blink, the inside of the car expands as my body contracts. My fox legs easily clear the seat belt and kick out of my pants. With a twist and a shimmy, I free myself from tangled shirt, bra, and jacket, dropping to the ceiling, which is now the floor. I pounce through the shattered window. Green flames surround me, no place to run.
“Up here!” Nora shouts from her perch on the back of Nick’s dragon. His enormous black wing extends toward me, over the fire. I easily make the eight-foot vertical leap, scampering across the wing to join Nora just as my Crap-pile explodes. Nick blocks us from the heat wave and steps away from the wreck.
I can see the whole scene from up here. The hellhound’s headless body covered in green flame that will reduce it to ashes within minutes. The dog’s head clear on the other side of what used to be my car. The beast’s eyes aren’t glossy white anymore. They’re vacant and dead, no longer possessed by Arael Moaz.
When the monster head bursts into green flame, a ripple of murmurs pulls my attention to the fact that we have an audience. We’re surrounded. The entire grounds of Campus Martius Park is filled with spectators. Eyes staring. Cell phones recording. News cameras broadcasting live. It’s no exaggeration to say that the whole world is watching us—a black dragon giving a piggyback ride to a woman and a fox who, only seconds ago, was driving that Pontiac.
Nick lowers his head, prompting us to jump down. The crowd buzzes with astonishment when Nora turns back to caress the dragon’s jaw. Raising his enormous wings high, Nick takes off, flying straight up into the clouds, the last any of these people will ever see of the black dragon that saved Detroit.
Then, all in one synchronized motion, the eyeballs and phones and cameras that were pointed up at the sky all lower back to earth, focusing on me and Nora. She crouches next me and hugs my neck, as if I were a pet dog.
I know what she’s doing. She means to keep me in this form, to prevent me from shifting, so my identity remains a secret. As it stands now, the underworld, while exposed, could still remain anonymous. Nobody knows who the dragon is; the sorcerers are dead; and Nora, while obviously a part of this whole new world, can still claim to be human—nobody needs to know about her powers.
