Ducking under fallen beams and the half-crumbled wall, Taevas used it for cover as he slipped inside the barn. It went against his instincts, but he swung the bolt rifle over his shoulder, allowing him to move more easily amongst the rubble and a lifetime of discarded objects.
Putting himself into position, Taevas fished in his pocket for the suppressant. He kept his gaze on the cracked door of the barn, where he could just make out Sergei’s broad shape, as he used his thumb claw to flick the cap off the syringe.
The itch to pull the rifle over his shoulder and aim…
I can’t. He’d probably survive it, and then I’d lose every advantage I have.
Dragons didn’t have the tough skin of elves or gargoyles, but they could take a hit. Unless he went for a head shot, instinct would see Sergei shift instantly, limiting the damage, and effectively destroying Taevas’s entire plan.
So instead of taking the shot, he sucked in a deep breath and groped behind him for the ancient tool box he’d become so familiar with during his stay.
His fingers closed around a handful of screws. Like he did with the guard by the SUV, he tossed all but one of the screws into the darkness. They clattered against old, moth-eaten furniture and rusted farm equipment.
Taevas pressed the back of his head against a beam and prayed that he was out of sight and that Sergei wouldn’t do the smart thing, which was to shift at the first sign of trouble.
It was impossible to tell at first. The sound of the door being pushed open could’ve come from talons or a tail. Taevas didn’t dare lean out of his hiding spot to check. He was forced to wait and listen.
The sound of a boot scuffing against the dusty floor made him smile.
Sergei moved just out of sight, every heavy footfall telling his progress as he tried to hunt the source of the noise. Taevas’shiding place was in a far corner, where Alashiya’s grandfather’s workbench had been nearly swallowed by stacks of boxes, crates, and a couch propped up against a wall and a beam. The shadows were dark and the smells of dust and mold were overpowering. For Sergei to spot him there, he’d need to come close — which was exactly what Taevas wanted.
Taking yet another risk, he flicked the last of his screws a little bit ahead and to the right of his hiding spot. The noise it made was soft, but dragon ears were keen.
Sergei had barely taken a step past the dusty couch before Taevas moved. The needle of the syringe was just a silver flash as it sank into the meat of the blue dragon’s bicep.
Slamming the plunger down, Taevas narrowly dodged a swipe at his head. He wasn’t quite so lucky with the punch aimed at his ribs. Freshly healed, they cracked instantly.
“Fuck!” Sergei snarled, going in for another hit. “You are so much more trouble than you’re worth!”
White spots floated in front of his eyes as they grappled in the tight space. Sergei had more weight on him, which was an advantage in the close quarters, but Taevas knew the barn. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for the suppressants to kick in, so he had to keep them in a confined area that wouldn’t allow Sergei to shift. Twisting to one side, he used Sergei’s momentum to slam his side into the sturdy workbench.
From somewhere outside the barn, a man’s scream broke the quiet of the night before it was cut off abruptly.
Taevas threw his entire weight behind a punch to Sergei’s kidney. Speaking through gritted teeth, he demanded, “Whoareyou?”
“What? Don’t recognize me?” Sergei kicked Taevas’s thigh at a harsh angle, making him stagger back as he fought to keep his balance. Face twisted in a furious grimace, Sergei spat, “You really don’t fucking know who Iam?”
Taevas raised his arms, blocking a rain of heavy blows until there was enough of an opening to land a jab to Sergei’s throat.The bigger dragon choked, his eyes bulging, as Taevas whipped his elbow across his face to shatter his nose.
“You look like one of Jaak’s boys,” he grunted, shoving Sergei far enough away that he could bring the rifle back over his shoulder. Aiming it at his head, Taevas breathed through the pain in his ribs, face, and wings. “It’s hard to say, though, since he had so many of them. What number was your mother, huh? Was she the fifth Chosen? The tenth? They never seemed to last long.”
Sergei gripped the edge of the work bench. His face was a mask of horror — all blood and fangs and fury. His chest rose and fell with huge, labored breaths when he snarled, “Don’t talk about my fucking mother!”
“No, you’re right. That isn’t fair. She wasn’t actually his Chosen, was she? None of them were. He treated his women like he treated the rest of us — like they were disposable.” Arching his brows, he asked, “You aren’t here to get revenge for that son of a bitch, are you?”
Sergei swiped the space beneath his nose. Blood smeared across his night-darkened cheek in a grisly swipe. “You know, you’ve always talked too much. I found you a lot more tolerable when you were drugged.”
Taevas flicked the safety off. The hum of the plasma cartridge coming online filled the dusty air. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get a read on the dragon stupid enough to kidnap me. What was the plan, Sergei?”
A blue glow lit the backs of Sergei’s bloody teeth. Even in such a tight space, it was obvious he wanted to shift. His muscles bunched and Taevas’s finger inched toward the trigger, but nothing happened.
A cruel sense of pleasure washed through him as he watched the realization flash in Sergei’s eyes.
There would be no shifting. No more surprises. They were on equal ground now.
“I knew I should’ve just killed you,” Sergei growled.
“Sounds like you really don’t like me. Must be because I killedyour daddy.” A bitter taste flooded Taevas’s mouth. “You know, I always wondered if any of his offspring would come after me. People told me I should keep an eye on all of you just in case, but I thought it just wasn’t fair to judge all of you based on what your father did. I guess that was naive of me.”
