Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(33)

I heard Emmett’s snarl of outrage, sensed him bring up powerful magics. Before Emmett’s spell could strike, Mick opened his claw.

Five hundred feet up, Emmett Smith tumbled from Mick’s talon, down, down, down, to smash to earth somewhere out in the empty desert.





Chapter Twelve

Gabrielle leapt from her feet, punching the air. “Yes!” she shouted. “Dragon power! Eat that, asshole.”

I, more skeptical than Gabrielle, would believe Emmett dead when I saw his crushed body. Still more when I lit it on fire myself and watched it burn to ash.

Mick, his red and black dragon hide catching the starlight, wheeled through the desert sky, searching the ground below him. I started in that direction. The flashlight had broken when I’d hit the dirt to avoid Emmett’s spell, so I had only the moon to guide me. It gave off enough light so I could see where I was going, but not quite enough to help me avoid small holes and loose rocks waiting to trip me. It must be nice to fly.

Gabrielle ran on light feet ahead of me, illuminating her way with a ball of Beneath magic. The flicker was tiny, but I watched it with trepidation. Fortunately, we were heading away from the vortexes, out to non-magical country.

As we reached the spot over which Mick hovered, another dragon joined him. This one was silken black, its silhouette blocking the stars. He wheeled, shrieked a dragon scream at Mick, then dove for the earth.

Mick did one more circle then flew after the black dragon, touching down just behind him. Both dragons disappeared behind a cloud of dark mist; when it cleared, two men walked toward us.

The black dragon was Drake, a tall man with dark hair. His back was covered with a tattoo of dragon wings, the points of which flowed over his shoulders and up the sides of his neck. He had dark eyes, a hard, handsome face, and a severe expression.

Drake worked for the Dragon Council, the body of three elder dragons who decided which dragons were and weren’t breaking dragon law, and meted out final justice. This council had nearly condemned Mick to death for not killing me, and I hadn’t forgiven them for that yet. Drake had proved that he didn’t obey the council unquestioningly, but he could be ruthless himself.

Behind him came Mick, his eyes sparkling red and black, the tatts on his arms writhing, their eyes glittering too.

“Well?” Gabrielle asked, sprinting forward. “Is he squashed?”

Mick growled, still dragon no matter that he was walking on two legs as a human. “Couldn’t find him.”

I remembered Emmett simply disappearing after Mick had flamed his limo, and how he’d emerged from the fire without a mark on him. He’d likely teleported himself to safety before he hit the ground.

“Thanks anyway,” I said to Mick, my gratitude sincere. “You saved me from a bad situation.”

“Janet wouldn’t let me kill him,” Gabrielle said accusingly.

Drake turned night-black eyes on me. He’d battled Emmett with me this summer at Chaco Canyon and knew how evil he was.

“I wouldn’t let her use Beneath magic right on top of a vortex,” I corrected her. “That’s what Emmett wanted—for me to choose between getting killed by him or letting things out from Beneath. A dragon was exactly what I needed. Thanks, Mick.”

The words were casual, but my heart was in them. I couldn’t exactly jump Mick’s bones with Drake and Gabrielle looking on, though I had a hard time keeping myself away from him at the moment. When dragons shift to human, they’re unclothed, and they don’t seem to notice.

I noticed plenty—Mick was difficult not to give a second look to, and Drake was also well-formed. I hadn’t lied to Colby when I’d told him that.

Gabrielle didn’t pretend not to look her fill of Drake. She skimmed her gaze up and down him, while he lifted his hair back from his face, unaware of the handsome picture he made.

“So, Drake.” Gabrielle tucked her thumbs into her pockets and sauntered toward him. “There’s a restaurant in Flagstaff that has a great salsa bar. Twenty different kinds every day. Want to go with me and try them?”

Drake paused in the act of binding his hair and stared at her in perplexity. I saw him try to figure out why a Beneath-goddess’s daughter would want to meet a dragon at a Mexican restaurant in Flagstaff. He must suspect some battle strategy that was eluding him. Drake was an extremely smart and efficient dragon, but he knew damn-all about humans.

“Leave him alone,” I advised Gabrielle.

Gabrielle continued to study Drake. “Or we can skip dinner and you can show me all your tattoos.”

More puzzlement. Drake’s tatts were already on full display out here under the moonlight.