Garath
The fair-skinned dragon quietly cleared his throat.
Garath’s face twisted with anger at the reminder of his presence. Trust Colonel Mara to saddle him with another dragon.
“Listen, Cower, you can stop with the attempts to get me to speak. I’m not interested. Now shut your mouth before I sew it closed with your own skin.”
“My name is Cowl.” The ice dragon didn’t sound the slightest bit apologetic about speaking. Nor did he sound suitably awed by Garath’s temper. Well, he could change that in a hurry.
Turning, he pulled one fist closed. Darkness slid out from under his sleeve and down his arm. “One more word,” he threatened.
They were hiding out in the top of the barn, waiting for Liam to return. The place was rather less ramshackle on the inside than it appeared, though he still wouldn’t term it a luxury palace. Those had decidedly less cow shit in them. Especially if you got rid of the politicians.
He waited for a response. Cowl looked away, then looked back. Then looked away again. What the hell was he doing? Garath wondered if maybe the ice dragon wasn’t right in the head. It would certainly be a great practical joke for Colonel Mara to play, sending the crazy one out as support. Just what he needed.
“What?” he snapped as Cowl repeated the routine for a third time. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Cowl sighed, the noise full of exasperation. “They’re here,” he hissed.
Garath snapped around. They? Liam was the only one that was expected to return. He could see now though that there was a second form visible in the car as it pulled up. The window was facing the setting sun directly, and he couldn’t make out who it was beyond the reflection.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”
Cowl rolled his eyes. “You were busy threatening me and told me not to speak another word! Make up your mind, you nutjob.”
If it weren’t for Liam’s presence and his renewed focus on killing the man who had swindled him of his treasure and hurt Marie terribly, he would have gone after the ice dragon. Of all the dragons, they were the most notorious for being sticklers about ignoring metaphors and idioms, taking them literally.
Garath hated them.
“Uh, Garath.”
“What now?” he snarled.
Cowl nodded toward the slats of barnwood they were hiding behind. “Isn’t that Marie?”
His blood ran cold as he looked out from between two planks. Cowl was right. The other passenger was Marie. She was getting out of the passenger-side door, looking around, appearing outwardly to be calm, but Garath knew better. His mate was petrified; he could read it in her eyes. The ice in them was cold. Brittle. Ready to snap at any moment and make a break for it.
“Change of plans.” He spoke softly now. Liam’s hearing was as dangerous as any dragons’. “I take him. You get Marie out of here. Take her to safety.”
Cowl stared at him. “You’re joking, right? You’re going to trust me to get your mate to safety?”
Garath’s lips pulled back in a silent snarl. “I wish. But Marie is the thing that matters most to me, and if you value you your life, you’ll treat her as such. Because after I’m done ripping Liam apart limb by limb, I’m going to come to her. And if so much as a single hair is out of place, I’m going to blame you.” He poked Cowl in the chest.
“I will see her to safety. You have my word.”
“Your word means shit to me. Get it done or I will kill you.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time.”
By now Liam was too close for them to discuss it anymore, leaving Garath to seethe about it in silence. The idea of trusting his mate’s safety to anyone other than himself was hard enough. But to another dragon? Impossible. It shouldn’t be done. Her safety and protection was his responsibility.
It didn’t matter that he was seeing to it by dealing with the traitorous silver dragon Liam. He should be there, in person, instead of by proxy with Cowl. It offended his entire dragon sense of self-worth. Worst of all, he knew it was his fault for leaving Marie. He should never have left when she told him to. He should have ignored that and stayed, forcing her to deal with the situation right then and there.
And if you’d done that, you would be no better than Liam. Disregarding her wishes, doing as you pleased because you deemed it best. Taking her right to choose her own actions away from her. That’s not what a mate does.
A mate was not in control. A mate was a partner. An equal. Half the equation.
And all of the protection.
Below, Liam and Marie entered the barn. Garath hoped and prayed that by rubbing cow shit on themselves that he and Cowl had covered their tracks adequately enough. The barn may have been abandoned, but it was still adjacent to several other cattle farms. The smell was prevalent enough. It had to be, otherwise their trap would never work.
“Go wait over there for me dear, will you?”
Garath nearly gave everything away, launching himself from cover before the time was right. Why was he talking to Marie like they were together?
“Of course.”
The tiniest of squeaks in her voice was all that told him she was faking it. Playing along. Garath had no idea how she’d found him, or what was going on, but he was almost happy to hear the fear in her voice. It let him know that she’d been telling the truth all along, that she and Liam weren’t pulling a con job on him.
Which meant his mate needed rescuing. Gently, using a gust of wind to help hide the noise as it whistled through the barn, he rose onto his fingers and toes. He crouched in the loft, waiting for the precise moment. Beside him Cowl nodded his own readiness. Frost gathered in the air between his hands.
Garath called upon his own dragon powers. Inky black acid spread across his skin, emerging from under his clothes to coat his entire body. Long blades made of acid leapt out of the sides of his arms, running parallel to his limbs. From there the rest of his body followed suit, turning him into a ball of sharp blades.
Below Liam finished locking Marie up in one of the stalls. Garath waited until he was nearly ten feet away.
Then he leapt.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” he shouted, midair.
The prompt was unnecessary. Cowl was already moving, spraying ice from his hands as he leapt to the ground, building a wall of ice between them.
Garath had time to hear a terrified scream rip from Marie’s mouth, then he collided with Liam, the two of them slamming into the ground and rolling across the barn. A support pillar exploded as they went right through it, and the entire south side of the barn groaned in protest.
They came to a halt, Liam bleeding from a thousand cuts inflicted by Garath’s defenses. He had jammed a hand into Liam’s mouth at one point, pouring acid down the silver dragon’s throat in an attempt to cut off his air supply.
Liam heaved once as if choking, and then a blast of quicksilver, the ultra-cold metal that silver dragons used, came exploding out of his throat. Garath jerked his hand out of the way as the stream coated half the wood on the ceiling above them. The decades-old barn couldn’t handle the stress, and chunks of roof began to fall.
The two pushed away from each other, the quicksilver-coated wood shattering between them like a makeshift barrier. Both rose to their feet, staring at each other, waiting for the rain of deadly projectiles to end.
Garath couldn’t see behind him, but Liam could, and he howled in anger. Cowl must have succeeded.
“It’s just you and me now,” he spat. “And this time you aren’t going to be able to attack me in my sleep. I’m awake now, and you’re going to pay for what you did to me, and to Marie.”
Liam looked at him, and Garath was struck at how unhealthy he appeared. Gaunt and thin, the typical mass of dragon muscles were notoriously absent from his frame. Even as he noticed that he recalled the off-color tinge to the quicksilver he’d vomited up.
“What happened to you?”
Liam just stared at him.
“No words? Fine. I don’t need you to speak before I kill you.”
This time the silver dragon laughed. “Strike me down and I shall return more powerful than you can ever imagine.”
Garath shook his head. “I get that reference. Nice try. But when I’m done with you, there will be no coming back. There won’t be enough of you left to piece together.”
Liam started to cough. It was a weak, hacking sound. Was he sick? But that was impossible. Dragons couldn’t get sick. The silver dragon spat, and a lump of purple-y saliva flew at Garath. He dodged it easily. What the hell?
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You’re finished. You and all the others.” Liam grinned, his pupils dilating, giving him a delirious, half-crazed look. “Your time is up.”
“Not yet it’s not.”
The roof was done falling in on them. A creak reminded him the rest of the barn might not be though. It was time to finish this.
Garath flicked his hand back behind him. As he did, a long living rope of acid trailed from his hand. When he flicked it forward the whip snapped at his target, opening the flesh on Liam’s chest down to the bone.
The silver dragon didn’t even flinch as blood far darker than it should be started to pour from the wound.
“Time’s up,” Liam whispered.
Then he came straight at Garath.