“Good.” Tristan lowered his gun, as well. “Search the place,” he ordered. “There might still be servants lurking around, or the dragon could be nearby. Though if it hasn’t shown itself by now—”
There was a ripple above him, a slither of movement in the dark, making my blood chill. I pointed my light toward the ceiling and, for a split second, saw something big and scaly wrapped around a stalactite, leathery wings spread to either side.
“Tristan, above you!” I shouted, just as a gout of flame descended from the ceiling, lighting up the whole cavern. Tristan threw himself aside, barely avoiding being incinerated, and the thing dropped onto him with a scream. It wasn’t a large dragon—the size of a cougar—but even hatchlings were deadly if they closed on you. Tristan flipped to his back, managing to get his gun between himself and the dragon as the monstrous lizard snapped and tore at him, beating its wings furiously. I raised my weapon, trying to find a clear shot, but Tristan and the dragon were too entwined. I didn’t want to risk hitting my partner, but if I didn’t do something, I would watch him get ripped to pieces in front of me.
Dropping the rifle, I snatched the combat knife from my belt and charged the huge lizard. I didn’t really know what I was planning to do, but as I drew close to the shrieking, flapping, clawing mass of human and dragon, I raised the blade and slammed it into the monster’s side, sinking it between the ribs.
It spun on me with a shriek. I caught a split-second glimpse of its yellow eyes, wide with pain and rage, before it bared its fangs and lunged at me, jaws gaping. I staggered back, instinctively throwing up an arm, and felt a blaze of pain as rows of razor-sharp teeth clamped shut on my forearm. The dragon snarled and savaged the limb, biting and chewing, digging its fangs in deeper. As we tumbled to the ground, I snatched my sidearm from my belt, rammed the muzzle into the dragon’s side and emptied the magazine into the scaly body.
The dragon jerked, shuddering. For a second we lay there, me on my back beneath a dragon, its fangs sunk deep into my arm. Then, those jaws slowly loosened, and the dragon made a strangled sound as it collapsed, its head hitting the ground just a few inches from mine. I glanced over and saw its eyes staring at me, bright and glassy, the spark of life slowing fading. For a moment, it didn’t look angry or enraged; it looked terrified, confused. It made a faint whimpering sound in the back of its throat, as blood streamed from its nose and jaws. Then the slitted pupil rolled up, staring at the ceiling, and didn’t move again.
“Garret!”
Tristan strode up and shoved the scaly green body off me with his boot. It rolled limply into a puddle, jaws open, still gazing at nothing. My partner loomed overhead, peering down with piercing, anxious eyes. His face was bloody, and the front of his combat vest was torn to strips, but he didn’t appear seriously hurt.
“Dammit, Sebastian,” he snapped as I struggled into a sitting position, which might’ve been a mistake. My arm blazed with agony, and I gritted my teeth, cradling the injured limb to my chest. A quick glance down made my stomach turn: my wrist and forearm had been shredded, blood soaked my mangled glove and dripped to the ground. Tristan swore again and knelt beside me. Pulling his own knife, he began cutting the sleeve from my arm, peeling back the fabric to reveal the length of ravaged skin. Rows of puncture wounds and several deep gashes oozed blood everywhere, and a patch of skin near my wrist was red and shiny, indicating it had been burned as well, as the gases emanating from a dragon’s throat were scalding hot. Tristan swore again and shook his head.
“Jeezus, Garret,” he growled, pulling several bandages from a compartment on his belt. “What the hell were you thinking? Didn’t anyone tell you that hand-to-hand combat with a dragon is generally a bad idea?”
“You’re welcome,” I gritted out, clenching my jaw as he began swabbing my arm with a cloth, wiping away the blood. He snorted at that, but didn’t comment.
Footsteps announced the arrival of the others, and a moment later Talbot swept up, shining his light at my feet. “What the hell happened?” he demanded, eyeing Tristan and me. “We heard shots fired, and now Sebastian is sitting here in his own blood. I assume to you have a damn good explanation for both. Did you find the targets?”