"That's all of them. Let's get the fuck out of here and blow the shit out of this place," Ciara snarled.
She was struggling to hold down her wolf, and Lachlan didn't blame her. There were less than half the prisoners they had expected. Gods only knew how long the folder of 'specimens' Lachlan had seen in their labs had been collected.
Years and years. He swallowed down bile and started to lay out the small metal vials that Apollo had given him. Once they had cleared the building, Lachlan detonated the vial in his hand and tossed it inside. He was halfway across the lawn to a circular ruin when the building exploded.
It was a beacon that turned the stormy night to day and lighted up the bodies of guards littering the grounds and the prisoners that were gathering around Killian and Bron. They were the best equipped to deal with calming prisoners because they were the most recognizable in the supernatural community. Killian could also counteract any magic that the blood mages might have cast on them. It wasn't a job for hunters.
"We have this. Go and help Valentine," Killian said, and Lachlan handed him a pouch of other vials from his belt.
"See if you can get them to drink some of these. Apollo said they are for healing and will help."
"Just as long as you aren't mixing them up with the explosives," Killian teased.
Lachlan huffed, "I'm sure."
He took off after Ciara and Tor, who had already made it to the bridge that connected the older parts of the Château to the newer. Lachlan didn't have to be a wolf to smell the blood. Killian and Bron had cut a path all the way to the ruins. They would take out the bridge if they had to in order to buy the prisoners time to escape.
Ciara had shifted and was darting off, the smell of blood the final straw. Her wolf needed to protect her, and Lachlan was grateful she had lasted as long as she had. He found Valentine amid wrecked bits of cars and buildings. His eyes were brilliantwith magic and dragon, and he had a peaceful smile on his face as his magic tore hunks off the Château, sending blue roof tiles and cream bricks flying before he disappeared inside.
Lachlan was so distracted by the carnage around him that he didn't see Kovacs until he darted out from behind the smoking ruin of a car and slammed his knuckle dusters into Lachlan's ribs. They tumbled to the ground.
Kovacs got one good hit to Lachlan's face, busting his lip, before Lachlan's training kicked in, and he struck the brute off and rolled to his feet. He pulled his throwing daggers free from the bandolier over his chest and sent them flying.
Kovacs laughed and shifted out of their way with unnatural speed before rushing him again. Lachlan blocked the assault, slipped to one side, and drove one of the tiny daggers into Kovacs's back. It hit body armor, and Lachlan swore.
"You're the one who stole my dragon," Kovacs said as he began to circle him. "I had so many plans for him."
"Apollo belongs to no one but himself, you ugly fuck," Lachlan snarled and spat a mouthful of blood onto the grass. He pulled a long black hunting knife free. He was going to need something stronger to get through that armor.
"You can't protect him," Kovacs mocked, still circling and forcing Lachlan to do the same to ensure that his back wasn't to him. "You're just a human. Not worth a dragon's time."
Kovacs rushed him and at the last second dodged past Lachlan and slid along the grass to his right.
"Are we going to fight or not?" Lachlan snarled.
"No need. I have what I wanted," Kovacs lifted his palm from the grass, and it shone red...with the blood Lachlan had spat out.
"Fuck."
Lachlan raced toward him, but Kovacs was already casting a spell. Lachlan's legs stopped working, and he crashed hard to his knees.
Kovacs laughed. "You really are a damn fool. Now, lift that blade up for me."
The dagger in Lachlan's hand shook. Valentine's medal in his pocket burned hot. Where was Val?
"You have some resistance but not enough," Kovacs said and used Lachlan's blood to draw a sigil on the back of his hand. Lachlan's own burned and throbbed as Kovacs took control of it. "Ah, that's better."
Lachlan lifted the blade to his own cheek and cut a line in it. He gritted his teeth against the pain and fought against the knife. It shook again, but it wasn't enough.
"Not so pretty now, are you? My dragon deserves pretty things," Kovacs mocked. "Now, I think I'll make you cut your own throat."
He raised his bloody hand to send the command when a blood-chilling roar shook the sky. Lachlan was frozen and unable to glance up. He was still looking at Kovacs as a clawed golden paw landed on him and crushed him like a bug.
Lachlan gasped and fell forward as the magic snapped. Something big and scaled nudged him, and he stared up into the eyes of a large golden dragon.
He let out a short laugh. "Hey, baby, you really are my golden boy."
34
