22
ETHAN
I'm not joking when I say I'm not much of a fighter.
Kickboxing classes aside, I'd only been in one real fight in my life. And it wasn't even a real real fight. Clayton Marcus in sixth grade. A rumor of a rumor of a rumor that I called him gay or something, and he confronted me at my locker after fourth period. He got the first punch in, a debilitating blow to my gut that drew roars of approval from the gathered students, and then I was swinging wildly and blindly without hitting much of anything.
Beyond that, I guess punching Jessica's ex two nights ago counted as a fight too. But he'd been drunk. It hardly counted.
I was fit. I jogged on the Katy Trail in Dallas four times a week, and lifted weights the other three days: squats, deadlifts, bench press, all the big movements. That built muscle, and kept me generally strong, but didn't help me much here. I couldn't deadlift the dragon to death.
To death. A grim reminder of what was at stake here.
The dragon sneered as he approached. He didn't bother to raise his fists; he might have been strolling toward a parking meter for all the concern he showed, full of boredom and nonchalance. That made me angry, and I yearned to lash out at him, but that was probably what he wanted.
I test-jabbed at the air as he neared, coming two feet short. He didn't flinch.
"I must admit I'm disappointed it's so easy." He cocked his neck, creating a loud pop, then turned it the other way to stretch the other side. "The previous times we have done battle have always been close."
He suddenly darted forward with a quick jab of his own, but I jumped back from it.
"How many times have we done battle?" I asked, buying time.
"Too many to count. Every hundred years for two millennia?" He hopped back and forth on the balls of his feet. "The last time, your world was recovering from some great war. That Emerald Gryphon was a veteran. It was a pleasure to fight him. Honorable."
I stepped forward while pulling back my right arm, then slid forward to jab with my left. It caught him off guard, but he still dodged it with shocking spryness.
"So it was a different gryphon," I said.
"Always different. Yet always the same." He shrugged, which made his fire tattoos dance. "We dragons are always the same. And this world is different than the rest. Softer. I can see it in you, and in your mate, and in everyone else in this wretched place. This time, we will finally win. This time it will all end."
The only warning I had was the note of finality in the last word. The dragon came at me in earnest, fists flashing like lightning. I backed away as a jab glanced across my cheek, followed by a left cross that caught me in the upper arm. I kept my hands up like we were legitimate boxers, hoping to protect my face.
He paused just long enough for me to stop my retreat and regroup. I swung my own overhand shot at him, catching him on the side on the ear, and twisted my body to kick across and into his ribs. He stumbled backwards, which was good because my knuckles felt like they were on fire.
"Is that it, eh?" the dragon growled.
I feinted like I was going to come at him again, which made him flinch and jump back. I grinned.
"Well then." He stood up straight and took another step back. "Take your time. We've got plenty, of that I can assure you."
It was a grim reminder of why I was here. They had Jessica--they, because there was someone else inside the house. They could kill her at any moment. I was the one who needed to act, to get past the dragon and save her. The gryphon in my chest screeched to escape, to tear him apart with its talons, to save my mate, the word he'd used.
I moved at him and swung my leg around in another kick, but this time he was ready for it. He caught my ankle with both hands and twisted, throwing me sideways with the motion. I staggered but he didn't come after me, so I went at him again, left-right-left jabs that he backed away from, then an uppercut swing that barely missed his chin. He swung his left arm impossibly fast, the open palm catching me across the cheek. I threw another haymaker in response but my vision was temporarily brightened, and my fist hissed through open air.
The dragon chuckled, but said nothing.
He toyed with me for the next minute, or five minutes, or three hours, it was tough to tell time while in that panicked state. I landed a few punches and kicks, but for each one that struck flesh ten more missed, or were deflected harmlessly. Soon sweat matted my hair to my scalp, and I panted like I'd ran around a track.
"Is that all you've got?" the dragon said, standing bored.
"You sound like a cheesy 80s movie."
"Whatever that means, I shall take it as a compliment."
He was fitter than I, obviously, and a better fighter by far. He was letting me wear myself down, both in body and spirit. Toying with me like a cat with a goddamn mouse. He wasn't even breathing hard. That filled me with anger, and then despair.
How could I beat him?
"While you've been fighting the air," he said, "I've been daydreaming about what we'll do with your mate when you're gone. Sadie's particularly interested, I can tell you. And when we're done with your mate, we'll give her to my brothers. Their appetites are quite unusual. The Ruby Dragon is especially difficult to please. I doubt Jessica could survive him."
Her name on his lips sent me into a frenzy. I charged at him with a wordless cry, spreading my arms to tackle him to the ground. But I was a split second too slow, and he sidestepped me easily, kicking the back of my knee as I passed.
My legs folded, and I crumpled to the ground.
Dust kicked up and made it difficult to see. I started to roll onto my back to prepare my defense but a foot caught me in the ribs before I could, a flash of pain running through my torso. GET UP, the gryphon in me screamed, but it was all I could do to curl in on myself from the pain.
"Emerald," the dragon drawled, a millennia of weight dripping from the word. I could feel him circling me the way an animal circled its prey. "It is a shame this was not more sporting. I can only hope your brothers give a proper fight to mine."
A boot sledgehammered me in the temple. I sprawled on the ground, temporarily blind and deaf.
"I suppose it had to end eventually," he said.
I blinked rapidly, trying to restore my vision. Something brushed my shoulder and I recoiled away, but it was just the dragon nudging me, laughing at my response.
"No bitch to hit me with a tire iron now, eh?" I could see his face now, looking around to make sure. "However. I am glad she gets to watch. It is a special thing to kill a gryphon in front of its mate."
A true kick hit me in the small of my back, and I cried out and rolled away from it.
"Now it ends."
As I groaned on the ground, all I felt was failure.