The sound of an explosion brought Markath to instant alertness, and he leaped to his feet. He'd made all the preparations he could for his plan, and had settled in to wait in the palace. It wasn't the most convenient place to be, but it was the safest — he needed to rest, and he didn't want to trust that the demon tigers wouldn't attack him while he slept.

His wounds ached and moving hurt as he made his way back to a window to see what was happening. From here, high above the fog that shrouded the fake city, he could see clear to the entrance tunnel. There was no sign of anything different, though he was sure that was where the blast had come from.

Trying to get back in, I suppose. They must be ready to bring the fight to me. That was good — he had no way to open the path to the surface, so he was relying on the humans coming to him. Narrowing his eyes, Markath looked closer. Dragon eyes were made for hunting from the sky, and that meant seeing far further than a human could. He focused on the entrance to see what kind of opposition he'd face.

The waiting was tense, but he knew from experience what a long and awkward crawl it would be to get through that gap. No matter how much they'd blasted open, it wouldn't be a quick journey. Just when he'd started to consider the possibility that no one was coming through, that the explosion had brought down the tunnel completely, he saw movement. Someone running out of the tunnel, unsteady but determined.

Markath had no trouble recognizing the space suited figure who stumbled down the ramp, and his heart leaped for joy.

Amanda! She's alive, and she's come back for me. His elation was tempered by the fact that she was running from something or someone. And whatever she was afraid of obviously scared her more than the demon tigers. His mate was headed into the hunting grounds without a weapon or backup.

The animals might be too afraid to attack him, but the same wouldn't hold for her. That was something he hadn't taken into account, he hadn't expected her to be the first human in.

I have to reach her before they do. All the pain and doubt vanished from him as he leaped from the balcony, startling the winged bear colony. His injured wing wouldn't let him fly, not even glide, but it did let him slow his descent enough that he didn't break his legs hitting the ground. Then he was off and running.

It was a long distance to cover and while he'd rested, his injuries were still enough to slow him down. Ahead of him, the city stretched out in its twisty, windy maze, and while he wasn't going to get lost in the streets here he couldn't cover the distance as quickly as he'd like either. His heart pounded, fear running through him — not for himself, but for Amanda.

At any second, he expected to hear her scream.

Instead of a cry of pain, though, he heard a shout of anger and frustration, and other human voices followed, too muffled by the fog for him to make out the words. Skidding to a halt, he hauled himself up onto one of the buildings, cautiously rising over the fog to see if he could make out what was going on.

The broad ramp that led up out of the fog to the cave's entrance tunnel wasn't far away now. Looking over the roof of the building he'd climbed, he saw humans gathering at the top of it. New humans, ones he didn't know, and that didn't bode well. Their spacesuits were uniform in design, skintight high-tech suits with armor over the top. Each of them carried a heavy rifle that matched the one Jim had held. Weapons against which his scales wouldn't help one bit.

They faced outward, guns raised and ready. No one was going to sneak past these men, he realized. They were far too professional.

The cries hadn't come from these men, though. Emerging from the fog bank were Jim and Dieter, pulling a struggling Amanda between them. Her curses carried to him, and Markath couldn't help smiling despite the peril they were in. She was alive, and so was he. The rest was details.

Heavily armed, dangerously hostile details perhaps. But details nonetheless.

There were, he counted, ten of the men in addition to Dieter and Jim. The newcomers concerned him more, moving in unison like a well-trained unit. But it was Jim who held onto Amanda's arm and dragged her before the leader of the humans.

"Got her, Captain Rivers," he said. Markath could just make out the words over this distance. "What do you want us to do with her?"

"I should like to have a word with Dr. Cain," the human leader said. He gestured to his men. "McGill, take your team and find me that alien. I doubt he's gone far, and the blood trail should be easy enough to follow."

One of the others snapped a salute and walked down the ramp towards the fog, and two of the others followed, guns at the ready. Another trio moved up, watching from the ramp and ready to provide fire support. Markath nodded. It was a sensible plan, though the fog would stop them seeing much. Still, it meant he had to be careful not to be seen.

The men knew who they were hunting and stayed alert, their weapons sweeping the sky as well as the ground around them. Markath watched this from his perch on the rooftop, the fog thick enough around him to hide him as long as he stayed still. The enemies were clearly professionals, and each carried a weapon that looked powerful enough to do him damage in his warform.

In his humanoid form, unable to shift, they'd be lethal.

Despite himself, Markath grinned. If the stakes weren't so high, he would have enjoyed the challenge.

Amanda lives, he reminded himself. So do this carefully. Quietly. She won't be pleased if I die fighting for her.

Dropping from his perch into the street below, he slowly edged his way towards the advancing fireteam. The three humans moved more stealthily than he'd expected, to their credit, but by now he knew these winding paths and they did not. And they were following his blood trail — which meant he knew exactly where they were going. Finding them wasn't going to be a problem, the question was what to do once he'd caught them.

The team moved through the fog with well-practiced precision and care. They kept a careful distance from each other, close enough to see despite the fog, but too far apart to all fall into the same trap. Markath could see that he wasn't going to be able to take them all out before one got off a shot. Normally that wouldn't have dissuaded him from trying, but with Amanda's life in the balance he couldn't take any chances. These three had to go, but if he fell in battle against them no one would save his mate.

Picking up a heavy slab of rock, he hefted it in his hand to judge the weight of it. The three humans were getting close now, he could see their silhouettes through the fog, and any second they'd see him.

Winding up, he threw, the stone flying true to smack into the helmet of the furthest human. The impact sent the soldier staggering, and the stone clattered on the floor behind him. The humans spun in its direction, one snapping off a shot that blew a hole clean through the nearest wall, the others looking for a target.

And that was when Markath leaped at them. The humans might have been briefed on dragon warriors, but they'd never fought one. There was no way they could have anticipated how quickly he could cover the distance or how quietly he could move. There was scarcely a whisper of air as he approached.

Even so, his target heard something. Spinning around with lightning reflexes, he began to shout a warning as Markath struck. The words were lost as Markath's fists hit him in the stomach and arm, and his shot went wide, but it was enough to draw the attention of the other two soldiers. Markath cursed as they spun, weapons coming to bear faster than he'd thought a human could move.

Not fast enough, though. His hands closed on the man he'd struck and Markath threw him into his companions with his full strength. The one he'd already hit with the rock was too slow to dodge, and the two humans went sprawling. The third managed to dive aside, firing as he went. But the sudden movement spoiled his aim and instead of shooting Markath in the chest, his shot barely nicked Markath's arm.

That was enough to fill Markath with a blinding, burning pain. But he refused to give in to it, jumping towards the shooter and smacking the red-hot barrel of his gun aside just as he fired a second time. Behind Markath a wall exploded as the plasma bolt struck it, and then his fist impacted on the human's face. The force of the punch sent his target flying back three yards to land in an unconscious heap.

The other two were struggling to disentangle themselves from each other. One had dropped his rifle in disgust, drawing a pistol and taking a shot. But this was a light weapon, designed for use amongst humans. Maybe if it struck the wrong place it could be dangerous to him, but this bullet glanced off his scales and skittered away into the darkness.

There was no more need for stealth. Markath roared as he flung himself towards the gunmen, letting the sheer force of his voice slam into them. It was no substitute for the fire his warform could spit but it was what he had, and it was enough.

One human, lifting his rifle, froze for a moment. The other fired wildly with his pistol, getting off three shots as Markath closed the distance. One bullet missed completely, another ricocheted harmlessly off his scales. The third found a weak point on his torso and punched through.

Markath stumbled at the impact and the sudden pain. His body burned in agony from the new wound, but he couldn't let it stop him or even slow him down. Lashing out, he caught the gunman's wrist and twisted, sending the pistol flying. Before the human could react, Markath lifted him from his feet and threw, his muscles straining as he sent the man flying into the jagged remains of a fallen wall. The crunching sound of the impact told Markath that his target wouldn't be getting up again any time soon.

The last rifleman finally recovered, but the large gun was too unwieldy in these close quarters. Grabbing it by the barrel, Markath kept it pointing away from him as the man pulled the trigger repeatedly. Blasts of plasma tore holes in the buildings surrounding them, shattering stone and brick and igniting anything flammable. Around them, unseen animals screamed and panicked, fleeing the fires.

Markath's hand burnt, but he kept his grip firm.

Reaching over the gun with his free hand, he grabbed his enemy by the neck and squeezed. The human's hold on his weapon loosened, and he dropped it to try and pry Markath's hand from his throat. But Markath wasn't about to let go, and with a snarl he tightened his grip until the man thrashed in panic. Finally, the light went out in his eyes and he slumped, senseless. Once the human was still, Markath dropped him in a heap on the floor.

Still breathing, he thought. Maybe he'll recover.

Lifting the rifle, he examined it. Powerful by human standards, and well made. But not useful to him. The grip held a scanner, and would only operate for an authorized user. Markath growled in frustration and snapped the rifle over his knee.

A blast of heat and light tore through the wall nearest him, and then another. Markath flung himself to the ground just in time to duck a furious barrage of fire from the cave mouth. It seemed that the hunters' friends had no problem with shooting at them if they thought they might hit him, too. Markath bared his teeth in a wordless snarl as he moved away, careful to keep low as more shots tore through the surrounding area.

What kind of warrior is so willing to kill his brothers in arms? He couldn't fathom that, or why anyone would follow a leader who permitted it. Shooting blindly into an area that contained three friends and one enemy was lunacy, as far as he could see, and it disgusted him.

The worst thing was that his Amanda was in the hands of the men who were shooting. If they were willing to take this kind of risk with their friends, what would they do to a prisoner?

I won't wait to find out, he told himself. Hold on, my mate. I am coming to rescue you.