Gambling on Her Dragon (Charmed in Vegas Book 2) (13 page)

The taste of leather filled his mouth, and he ripped the gladiator’s neck guard right off the helmet. The pommel of the sword bashed him in the ribs at exactly the same time. Sparks ignited, filling his vision, but that didn’t matter any more. The only thing that mattered was the sweaty sheen of the gladiator’s exposed neck. He clawed the man’s chest, ignoring the pommel hammering at this side. The gladiator was making a desperate last stand.

Trey, too. He closed his eyes as his jaws dug into yielding flesh. Warm, sweet blood flooded his mouth, and the world went off-kilter as the gladiator tipped backward, trying to shake him off.

The pounding continued at this side, like a determined visitor at the door to his mind.
Aren’t you dead yet?
 The knock asked.
Aren’t you ready to give in?

Like hell, he’d give in. He clamped his jaws tighter and vowed never to let go, no matter what happened. It didn’t matter if the gladiator battered him to death, as long as Kaya went free.

Pain threatened to take over, so he put up a mental wall made of a thousand visions of Kaya. Her auburn hair, spread across a pillow. Her flaring cheeks, that time out in the desert when she insisted the car was hers. Her fingers, running over his back…

If he was going to die, he’d die with images like that, damn it.

Everything went dim and so hollowly quiet, he didn’t know where he was any more. Only that whoever it was under his body had gone very, very still, and the roaring in his ears was speeding up, like a freight train drawing nearer as it screamed down the tracks. Full steam ahead at him, maybe?

He flopped sideways, just in case. Rolled weakly to his side and tried to gather his feet. Somehow, it felt awfully important to get to his feet.

Come on, Trey, you can do it!

Well, if Kaya thought it was important, he might as well try, even if he couldn’t see straight.

To win the fight, you have to be on your feet. Get up! It doesn’t count unless you’re up.

Her voice turned to a yelp of pain, sending a thousand inner alarms in his body clanging. He reached into her thoughts and felt the sharp dig of Igor’s fingernails in her arm, trying to cut her off.

“Shut up!”
 
Igor hissed at Kaya. Trey heard it, clear as a bell.

He heaved a huge breath and jumped to his feet. Shook his body, blinking away tears of pain. He peered desperately into the spotlights above until the announcer roared, “The winner! The wild wolf wins!”

The crowd exploded into deafening cheers. His whole body went limp, and he crashed sideways onto the sand, but it didn’t matter any more because he’d won. The gladiator was wheezing somewhere nearby, not quite dead but defeated all the same.

You did it!
 Kaya cheered.

He closed his eyes and grinned, because he could feel her smiling at him. He even cracked an eye open, hoping for a glimpse of her face.

Something cackled right over his body, and his blood ran cold. Kaya didn’t cackle. He forced a second eye open and tried to focus on whatever it was.

He gasped, because Kaya didn’t have a hooked nose and huge, gaping teeth.

Gargoyles did.

“Prepare to die,” the gargoyle hovering ten feet above his body snarled as it dove in.

K
aya screamed, watching it all unfold. She played everything back a few seconds in her mind, trying to understand.

There was Trey, struggling to his feet, claiming his victory.

She let time tick forward in her mind, then paused it again. There was Trey, collapsing to the ground as the announcer declared him the victor.

And there was the gargoyle, unfolding itself from a marble column.

Her jaw dropped, watching it extend its claws and move in. Her ear twitched, picking up Igor’s cackle of triumph.

She swiveled her head to the vampire at her side and caught him signaling a second gargoyle off its perch.

Blood roared in her veins as she jumped to her feet.

Karen jumped at the vampire and pummeled him with both fists. “You cheat! You swindler! You piece of shit!”

Kaya stared. Trey had won by the skin of his teeth, fair and square. And now this?

Rage billowed inside her like an out of control wave, and she screamed. “No!”

A six-foot flame erupted from her mouth, and somebody screamed.

“Fire! Fire!”

She shook her head and released another whoosh of flame.

“Holy shit,” Karen muttered, staring at the dragon muzzle extending from Kaya’s face. Then Karen grinned. “Go, Kaya! Go!”

She barely registered the wings tearing through her shirt, the scales sliding over her skin like a suit of armor. Barely felt her tail extend as she climbed to the railing in front of her and leaped. Stale arena air whooshed under her wings as she swooped down toward the ring, intent on the gargoyle diving for Trey.

Never, ever in her life had she managed more than a few sparks, but she was gushing fire now, and it felt good. Emboldening. Powerful. She spurted another long flame as she folded her wings and dove, searing everything in sight. Including the gargoyle, who turned at the last second with a look of horror before spinning sideways, trying to get away.

Whoosh!
 Another long exhale, and the gargoyle became a flying fireball, gliding through the air.

She snapped her head up and flicked her tail just in time to avoid dive-bombing Trey, who was blinking in confusion on the sand.

Hang on,
 she urged him.
Hang on!

She pulled the tightest left-curve of her life and roared at a second gargoyle, scrambling to fly away. He rose and rose, then dropped into a defensive spiral.

The little sucker thought he could crank a tighter turn than she could and pulled out of his dive an inch above the ground, but she rolled right after him, sending up little puffs of sand with the tips of her wings. She’d show the bastard…

She roared. Flames folded around the gargoyle and sent him plummeting to the ground. She whipped her tail and looked around. Two down. How many more to go?

Gargoyles buzzed around her like hornets. The crowd was in chaos, running for the exits.

“Fire! Fire!”

“Oh my God, an electrical fire!” a woman shrieked, pointing at the overhead spotlights.

Electrical fire, my ass.
 Kaya shot a long, crackling flame toward the witches’ control booth at the top of the arena. Three wrinkled faces froze in shock, then dove out of sight.

Third-rate witches
, she sniffed and twisted back toward the ring.

Humans stampeded the exits while the shifters in the audience watched her zip by, their mouths agape. All but a single hedgehog shifter, who was cheering her on.

Kaya nearly cheered, too. She’d never felt so alive. Never felt so tuned in to centuries of dragondom, whose ghosts seemed to peer over her shoulder and applaud. She could do it! She could control fire!

It was just like her grandfather said, a long time ago. She could hear his scratchy old voice in her ears.
Fire isn’t kindled by greed or desire. Fire is kindled by love, and if you truly believe…

She looked at Trey, sprawled on the ground. Her blood seemed to thicken just looking at him, and her soul started to sing. Yeah, she could believe. She believed in him. Believed in crazy wolf myths that said he was the one.

She glided on that realization for another split second before snapping back to full alert. Three gargoyles zipped toward her in V formation, and she peeled away to the right. Rolled. Banked. Climbed higher and higher, then pulled a classic Immelmann turn and swept out of the way. She pulled every dogfighting maneuver her grandfather had taught her, plus a few she invented on the fly. She dug the tip of her right wing against a pocket of warm air and spun around, catching two of the three gargoyles unprepared. The flame licked her lips as she spat it out. Gargoyles screamed, catching fire. One quick wing-over brought the third gargoyle into her sights, and—

Whoosh!
 A huge, orange flame reached out and dashed him to the ground.

She bellowed in triumph, sending fire upward like a fountain of reds, oranges, and yellows, then looked around. The remaining gargoyles had fled back to their perches and turned back to stone. A pumping disco beat filled the air in some DJ’s belated attempt to bring normalcy to the scene. Roric, the Westend alpha, popped his head up cautiously from where he’d taken shelter under a chair.

Karen plucked Igor’s arm off her sleeve and grinned. “
Hasta luego
, asshole.” She dusted off her hands and headed for the stairs.

Kaya wrapped her wings around her body, executed a quick three-sixty turn to make sure the danger had passed, and landed at Trey’s side.

Hey,
she called into his mind, keeping a wary eye on the nearest doors.
Are you okay?

The answer took so long coming, she could have screamed. Then a weak murmur reached her ears and Trey rolled to his stomach, panting.

Fine,
 a pained voice sounded in her head.
Perfect. Great.
 He groaned and creaked to his feet.

The gladiator groaned, too, lying nearby in a pool of blood. She could hardly believe he was still alive. Should she finish him off? Give him a second chance?

She bared her teeth, and the gladiator dropped to the ground, playing possum.

Kaya turned to the nearest exit and bellowed in her best dragon voice — a throaty contralto, like that of an opera diva who smoked too many cigars. “Open the door!”

Silence was the only reply, so she followed up with a fireball that split around the bars and reunited to stream into the tunnel beyond.

Out of the corner of one eye, she saw Karen jump from the bottommost level of seats and land cleanly in the sand.

“I’ll get your wolf. You get the door,” Karen called.

My wolf,
 her dragon hummed inside before bellowing once again. “Open the door or I’ll burn the place down!”

“Coming! Coming!” a timid voice squeaked.

A second later, the gate creaked on its hinges, and four hasty feet scurried away.

Kaya took a cautious step into the dark tunnel. Sent a puff of smoke ahead like a scout, then motioned back to her sister, who propped Trey up. “Let’s blow this joint.”

“Yes,” Karen replied, pure relief in her voice. “Let’s.”

E
ight hours later…

Trey leaned against the torn headrest of the Jaguar’s passenger seat, closed his eyes, and let the sun warm his face. Kaya was driving, and he was way over in the front seat, practically straddling the gear stick — a position that got him closer to Kaya, which was the main thing. He stroked the back of her neck gently, making her hum as she drove.

“How are you doing?” she asked, putting a hand on his thigh.

A little zing went through him, sending excitement and joy on separate paths to the furthest reaches of his body until they reunited somewhere in his chest, wrapped around each other, and glowed for a while.

“Good,” he murmured, closing his hand over hers. “Really, really good.”

Hadn’t felt this good in ages. Never mind that his leg still ached and his ribs throbbed. The only thing that mattered was her. Him.
Them.

The car tires hummed over the road, the wind combed his hair, and he laughed.

Kaya turned her head. “What?”

He shook his head. “A couple of days ago, it was so cool to see the Vegas skyline rise on the horizon.” He glanced in the sideview mirror. “Now, it feels so good to see it disappear.”

“Amen,” she murmured, kneading his leg. “I won’t be going back there in a hurry, that’s for sure.”

Her brow wrinkled as she said it, and he knew she was thinking of her sister.

“You sure you’re okay with leaving Karen back there?”

Kaya glanced over her shoulder and shook her head as if the gas station they’d left Karen at twenty miles back was still in sight. “She insisted, so…”

That was the crazy thing. Karen had spent the first ten miles of the drive north sitting quietly in the back seat. Too quiet, almost. When they’d stopped at a gas station a little while later, she’d hopped out of the car, stared at the horizon, and finally announced that she had to go back to Vegas.