Ana

“Cutting it close,” she said snarkily, not even bothering to turn around as Ferro entered the clearing she was sitting in. She had seen his dragon come diving down the side of the mountain. After a brief moment of panic, thinking the Order had found her, she recognized him in its eyes. The silver glow was still present, surrounding the big yellow oval orbs.

“I have made some mistakes,” he admitted, coming up behind her. “But I would have made a bigger one by putting us—whatever we are—ahead of the potential lives lost if the Order is allowed to continue to exist.”

She flinched, stung at the mild reprimand in his voice. He was right and she knew it. He may have gone about it the wrong way, but their priority had to be dealing with the Order. Ana wasn’t entirely sure how she’d come to the decision that she was going to help with that, but as she waited for him to return at some point over the past four hours,  it had become clear to her that she was caught up in the battle now whether she liked it or not.

“You don’t get off that easily though,” she said, turning to face him, a mask of steel on her face. “I’m not some young girl easily awed by your good looks and skill in bed. I’ve lived my life the way I’ve wanted to for a long time. I’m not about to just give up on things and do your bidding.”

Ferro fought back a smile. “I am not sure I could ever get you to ‘do my bidding,’” he replied. “But you are correct. I made some assumptions, without even realizing that I was doing so. I apologize for that. I also apologize for keeping you in the dark about my thoughts on the Order agents nearby.”

She looked around, accepting his apologies. For now. “Nearby?”

He shrugged. “I did not see anyone, which is a little surprising, but I think we both know that we cannot have dealt with them all yesterday. Even if we had, they would have sent more when those failed to report in.”

Ana looked around, expecting their adversaries to jump out at any point. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here!”

“I agree, time to head back to our room for the evening. Perhaps we shall see if someone will sell us some food first.”

Ana looked at him in shock. “What? Go back? If they’re so close, we need to go. You know, vamoose, scram, leave post-haste. Whatever phrase triggers the understanding in you of the point I’m trying to make.”

Ferro frowned. “What are you talking about?”

She blinked, not sure he truly understood what was going on. “Ferro. The Order is composed of dragon shifters. They want to kill us. I, for one, am more interested in staying alive. Which means we need to be elsewhere.”

The dragon shifter paused, considering her words. “We cannot just flee, Ana. We have to be prepared to fight them.” His eyes narrowed. “You do know that, do you not? This is not going to just solve itself while we hide from them.”

Ana took a deep breath. Intellectually, yes, she understood what he was saying. Emotional understanding and acceptance was another matter entirely.

“Ferro,” she began. “I don’t know.”

He arched an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.

“I’ve always survived by running. By hiding. That’s what’s kept me alive so long,” she told him. “You say you aren’t entirely sure just how old you are, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, not all of us are like that. Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” she asked.

Ferro’s head moved sideways.

“Three thousand seven hundred and forty-eight years, five months, and give or take a few days,” she said flatly. “The calendars have changed a few times. I think I may have mixed up the exact day a little.” She shrugged, a wry smile on her face. “And do you know how I’ve managed to do so?”

He shook his head again.

“By running. I was born in what is now Egypt, at the height of their power,” she explained. “How accepting do you think they were of a pale-skinned woman who upon her thirteenth birthday, discovered she could change into a creature even they considered mythical?”

Anger seeped into her voice as she spoke, colored by the terror of her early years. “I’ll keep it short, but the gist of it is, the red carpet they rolled out upon my arrival was originally white, until they stained it with my blood.”

That wasn’t the literal truth, but it served her purpose, conjuring images of the people her city had sent to capture her. To display her before their pharaoh before she was sacrificed to the gods as an abomination, a thing that should never have been.

Her mind flashed back to that day. It had been there, upon the altar, that she had killed for the first time. The man had been impaled upon her horn as she shifted, her brilliant white coat stained red as the life leaked from within him.

Killing was not something Ana enjoyed, though she had been forced to do so again and again. And again. She had fled to the ends of the earth in an attempt to escape capture. Only by disappearing into the wilds and living with the animals had she been able to be free.

“I am sorry for what you have endured,” Ferro said with heartfelt sincerity. He took her hands, holding them together in his, pressed against his powerful chest. “I truly am. I wish I had been there to help prevent it. Had I but known…” he shrugged. “But this is not now. You are old, and you are powerful. You can fight,” he said fiercely.

Ana pulled her arms back, hugging them to herself. “I don’t know, Ferro,” she said uncertainly. The idea of fighting and risking her life didn’t sound overly appealing.

They lapsed into silence for the remainder of the walk back into town. Despite the ongoing issues between them, the pair were old enough to be able to appreciate the unspoken silence, the quiet bond between them. The ability to be at peace in someone else’s presence, without feeling the need to speak, was valuable beyond meaning. Simply enjoying the state of being with someone was exhilarating.

It was just that silence that almost got them killed. They were halfway back through the city before Ana realized something was off.

“It’s too quiet,” she whispered at the same moment Ferro perked up, obviously picking up on the change in her body language.

They walked through a stone arch into the open square at the center of town. She could see the building they had rented a room in.

“Duck!” Ferro shouted.

Ana dropped like a stone. Thousands of years of finely honed instincts and a remarkably deep trust in Ferro meant she didn’t question what he said when his tone took on such urgency. She fell to the ground, dropping her shoulder and rolling out of the way as a man stumbled above her, the mortal strike with his sword—a fucking sword?!—suddenly encountering empty air.

The shifter paused as his reach extended fully, caught off guard by how quickly the pair had reacted to his attack. He had clearly expected to skewer at least one of, if not both of them, with his surprise attack.

Instead, Ana was already well beyond his reach, and Ferro was right there to meet him.

Coming to her feet, she saw a second shape move behind Ferro. Her fingers slammed into the cobblestone and she withdrew a large chunk of it. Her arm whirled forward, above her head, and down in an arc. She used the underhanded throw to whip the stone across the intervening distance where it careened off the shifter’s head with a crack. The man’s legs failed for a split second, and he staggered, reaching for the wall next to him to steady himself.

Ana landed on him at that moment, clobbering him with a fist to the gut as she used her momentum to ride him to the ground. He threw her clear as he hit hard, bashing his head against the stones of the square. Ana tumbled, thrown free of the clash. By the time she regained her footing she was a good thirty feet from where Ferro was rapidly becoming surrounded by four men, all of them attempting to rain blows on him.

“Go!” he shouted, his arms working feverishly to block the attacks, his movements a near blur in her vision.

“I’m not leaving you!” she shouted, stalking back toward the melee.

“Yes. You are!” he replied sharply, driving a fist into a face that sent one opponent flailing backward.

Her old self, always eager and accepting of a way out, screamed at her to take it and run. But some part of her, perhaps the part that thought getting involved with Ferro was a good idea, told her to stay firm, to go to his aid.

“Now!” he shouted. “I will be better on my own.”

She grimaced, knowing what he meant. Right then, he had to worry about both himself and her. If she were safe and gone, then he could fight the way he needed to fight.

“Find me!” she cried out, hating herself.

But she did what he said, turning her back and running flat out for the far side of the little square. Even before she got there, Ana was changing. She leapt forward as it took hold, the finishing changes happening mid-air.

Hooves struck cobblestone and she took off like a rocket, propelled forward by the incredible strength and speed that her unicorn conferred upon her. She quickly made it out of the city, fleeing down the road, wishing the forest was even closer than it was.

In her mind, all she could think about was the man she had hit lying on the ground, knocked out cold by his own actions, and Ferro, a man she was terrified to admit that she cared for more than was normal, battling the three attackers.

Three? But there were—

Darkness struck. Death from above as massive talons pierced her flanks. She screamed, the loud noise reflected back at her as she was lifted from the ground. Her unicorn was no small creature however, and the dragon trying to lift her was having a hard time of it. Mighty wings beat down, sending gusts of air at her, though she barely noticed it over the savage wounds being inflicted upon her sides.

Finally the dragon gave up, and he dropped her. It was a good fifteen feet down, and despite the strength in her animal, Ana knew its legs couldn’t handle the fall. So once more in mid-air, this time under slightly different circumstances, she shifted.

Her outstretched arms hit the road first, followed by her shoulders. She suffered a glancing blow as she rolled awkwardly, leaving her tailbone stinging, but that was the least of Ana’s worries.

“It’s about time you met your end,” the dragon shifter said, settling down nearby.

Angrily she staggered toward him. His talons had left three puncture marks down each side with a matching one under each shoulder blade. Eight holes from which blood poured, drenching her outfit in seconds. The blood slowed from gushing to a trickle as she got closer, though the holes themselves would take longer to heal completely.

“I’m going to kill you,” she promised, focusing her rage on the dragon’s head.

“Oh please,” the purple-sheened dragon replied, his voice dripping condescension. “You can’t kill me.”

“Watch me,” she snarled.

“Okay,” he said with a toss of his head. “Are you going to kill me from there, or—”

He had barely finished speaking when Ana realized her mistake. His tail flicked out and slammed into her, the tough scales crunching her arm against her shoulder as she flew through the air.

“Or from over there?” he finished as she bounced and rolled to a halt.

Woozily she got to her feet, making a promise that she would never forget the tail again.

“Afraid to fight me on terms where I might have a chance?” she taunted, hoping to get his ego involved.

“More like smarter to know that you aren’t completely helpless.” He inhaled deeply, and she knew he was preparing to unleash his devastating flame.

“Not that smart,” she said, pausing and crossing her arms.

The Order dragon cocked his head sideways. Ana didn’t respond. Instead, she angled her own head upward. The Order dragon understood almost immediately, but it was too late. He dove to the side, turning to unleash his breath.

The brass dragon dropping from the sky snapped its wings forward in a protective shield, holding them there until the last second. Then he pulled them back, his body slamming into its target with full force. The two dragons went down, long necks swirling sinuously as they snapped at each other, powerful legs clawing scales from each other’s bodies as they went.

The newcomer was smaller than her attacker, but more agile and by the look of it, more experienced as well. He landed several blows, weakening his opponent. Ana continued to watch, feeling her strength return as her injuries healed and she got her senses about her. She still didn’t belong between two raging dragons, but if they were to shift back, then she felt comfortable getting involved.

As if by magic, the rolling pair of dragons began to shrink rapidly until they were back in human form.

“Big mistake,” she muttered, gliding forward.

Her approach came up short, however, as her attacker landed a powerful left that spun the newcomer to the ground. A vicious kick to his midsection sent him hurtling through the air, where he collided with a tree.

The Order dragon spun to face her, but she had closed the distance enough by then that he would be risking being unarmed for too long if he tried to shift back. The delay while he decided whether to do it anyway or not was so minute it was barely detectable.

But it was enough for Ana, and she waded in, landing a one-two jab combo to his stomach that almost doubled her attacker over. She spun in close, driving a backward elbow right into his sternum before hitting him low. It wasn’t “fair,” but she didn’t care. This fight was to the death and she would do whatever it took. He managed to deflect that blow, but enough of her fist came in contact with him that he howled in pain.

A backhand caught her unawares and she shuffled backward, resetting her jaw from where he had broken it.

Enough of this.

Ana wasn’t big on fighting. In fact, she hated it with a passion. She was much more of a free-flowing, loving being. The hippie movement of several decades past had been right up her alley, even if the popular drugs of the time didn’t affect her.

But when you stopped aging at roughly twenty-five in human years and had thousands of years to hone your instincts, you learned a thing or two.

She darted forward, dipping low beneath the blow she knew he was going to throw. One of her big advantages was that no man, not even this thousand-year-old dragon shifter in front of her, believed that a woman could know how to fight. It was almost worse in the older shifters, because they were born in a time where woman truly were considered worthless and stupid. So when she came at him with combat techniques that would have put a trained martial artist to shame, it caught him completely off guard.

He had gotten the best of her by using the size of his beast to his advantage. Now she used his size to hers, ducking and weaving out of the path of his slower-moving blows. He was fast, and she wasn’t confident enough to play around with him, but it quickly became obvious he was outclassed.

Fingers wrapped around an outstretched arm as he hurled a desperate jab at her. Holding it in place, she smashed her forehead into it, snapping his forearm in half. It was a neat trick she had learned during one of her stays in Africa. A backhand to his neck sent him stumbling.

That proved to work against her, however, as he recovered quickly and was suddenly outside of her range, but within his. A fist came flying at her face, directed by his working arm. Ana faced a split-second decision, knowing she couldn’t avoid it completely. She could move with it to try and lessen the blow, or she could do something he wouldn’t expect.

She chose the latter. Clenching her teeth against the pain she knew was coming, Ana met his fist with her own, driving it forward with all the power she possessed. Finger bones shattered on both sides, sending spikes of agony up her arm into her head, but she followed through with a technique that would make any of her masters proud. Her fist was stronger than his, and she continued her blow, smashing his wrist into oblivion.

Now he had no arms capable of defense, and she had one still able to attack. Adopting a side-on approach, she drove him backward until the opportunity she’d been waiting for presented itself. She ducked low, slicing at his calf with her hand straight like a blade. It connected with the muscle, sending it into spasm. The shifter began to hop on one foot, and as Ana rose from her crouch she shifted all her weight to her back foot, and drove her front one into his windpipe with all of her strength.

The Order member collapsed, gasping for breath, just as the shifter who had come to her rescue arrived back on the scene. He saw her mangled hand, strode over to the shifter, and in one smooth motion snapped his neck. He let the corpse fall by the wayside and strode over to her.

“Need a hand setting anything?” he asked.

Her jaw was still healing, so instead of trying to speak, Ana simply held out her hand. If he had wanted her dead, he wouldn’t have intervened. Whoever he was, she trusted him to not attack her long enough to at least explain what was going on.

The man began pulling on her fingers, helping them set properly. Although a shifter could heal from just about any wound, if broken bones weren’t set properly, they often knitted themselves back together the way they lay. Rebreaking them was just as painful the second time around, so most shifters quickly learned how to set broken bones.

“Can you still fight?” he asked moments later.

She could already feel her hand beginning to heal. Nodding, she looked back at the village, the direction from which she had come.

“Merlin,” he said, sticking out his left hand instead of his right, to accommodate her injury.

“H’Nuh,” she managed through her jaw.

“Hannah?” he asked, his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

She shook her head, forcing her jaw to move as she repeated herself.

“Ah, Anna,” he said.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes in exasperation. She motioned back at the village.

“Right, yes. I do believe Ferro could go for our help. Don’t you agree?”

She answered him by taking off at a run, not waiting for him to catch up. Ferro was in trouble, and he needed her help.

Ana was done running.