Page 83 of Bad Blood Alpha

Black lightning slashed through the air. She blocked it with the bracelet, and it ricocheted back, striking his arm and spinning him around.

Kira grabbed his arm—the one wearing the bracelet—and yanked the gold cuff off his wrist. He howled in rage. She knocked him back with a magically enhanced roundhouse kick, and yelled, “Flynn!”

He elbowed a hellhound in the face, knocking it cold, and turned. She threw the bracelet at him, and he caught it and slapped it on his wrist.

“Get Ragnor!” she shouted.

Flynn let off a spray of bullets into the next wave of hellhounds, slowing them down. Then he ran for Kira, vaulting across a table of equipment, sending everything on it flying as he slid over the top. They joined hands and raised their outside wrists, bracelets gleaming.

Kira focused.

Twin spikes of blue flame converged on Ragnor, engulfing him. He screamed in agony, black and blue fire twining around him, and he slumped to the floor.

The hellhounds dropped, howling and writhing, clawing at their own heads trying to stop the pain. Flynn snatched up his belongings from the floor where they’d had fallen when the table overturned. He grabbed Kira’s hand. “Time to leave.”

“Not without Emon and Mayah.”

Flynn gave her a crooked grin. “Got it covered, sweetheart.” He ran to the dragon’s cell and shoved something soft and malleable into the lock. It sparked and burst, and the door swung open.

He hit the button on his radio. “Caitlyn! Light it up!”

He pulled Kira down behind the dragon’s huge bulk, protected by its armor-plated hide. The wall behind the dragon exploded to rubble, letting in the pale dawn light. With a crackle of power, the magical force field around the cage dissipated.

The dragon surged to its feet, and Flynn and Kira pulled Mayah away from its claws. It pushed through the hole in the wall, sending loose stone skittering down to the ground below. With a pitiful, strangled roar, it leaped out into the air, spreading its wings and gliding across the valley.

Behind them, they could hear the howls of hellhounds.

Kira ran to the edge and looked down at the four-story drop. “How the hell are we going to get down?”

Flynn grinned at her. “Plan C.” He yelled, “Sloan. Hit it!”

Three ropes slithered down from above, and Sloan slid down one, coming to a stop in front of them. “Good to see you.”

Flynn slung Mayah over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, holding her with his left hand, and gripped one of the ropes with his right. “Come on!”

Kira grabbed the second rope, wrapping it around her hands and one leg, and the three of them slid to the ground.

So far, no one was following.

“How far do we have to go before we can gate out?” Sloan asked.

“Top of the ridge,” Kira said, pointing across the valley.

Flynn said, “Then we better fucking run.”