Bring the Heat
Page 49

 G.A. Aiken

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Gaius stood on a hill and stared down at the men charging toward the temple and the Riders standing between them and the defenseless priests.
“What do you want us to do?” Brannie asked.
The old rage, the one that had gotten him his reputation during those dark years, roared through his blood. Like Annwyl’s insanity, his rage never went away, it just lay dormant, waiting to be roused from its slumber.
Well, it was wide awake now.
Gaius looked at Brannie and growled out, “They’re on my territory. Uninvited. Kill them all. Leave nothing for even the crows to dine upon.”
Brannie’s slow grin showed how much of a Cadwaladr she truly was.
Shifting to her true form, her weapons and armor growing with her, she turned to the dragons with her and screamed, “With me, Mì-runach! With me!”
The siblings ran out of javelins and turned to their bows. Each arrow hit its mark, taking down their victims instantly. But they would run out of arrows soon, too.
The soldiers climbed the trees to get to Tatyana and Nina, forcing both women into the battle.
They’d all been helping to train Tatyana, making her a stronger fighter. But this was not only too much for her—it was too much for all of them.
They had to pull back. Kachka took a moment to look around, trying to find an exit. A way out of this.
“Kachka!” Marina bellowed. “To your left!”
Kachka turned, her sword raised to block the oncoming blow, her spear low to strike and kill. The soldiers charged toward her and she readied herself for the onslaught. But as the men came near, the wind around them whipped up and a black dragon in dark steel armor dropped all its weight on the men, stomping them into the ground.
“Down, Kachka!” a female voice ordered.
“Down!” Kachka yelled at her comrades and they all dropped as flame shot out, covering the soldiers near them.
Screams and battle cries rang out, but there were more dragons, their flame tearing across the troops.
Human bodies covered in fire, the men screaming for death, fell around Kachka, but ignoring them, Kachka scrambled to her feet and ordered, “Strike!”
Her team moved quickly, ignoring the ones trying to put out the flames on their flesh and focusing on the ones wily enough to avoid the blasts.
Kachka speared the first soldier who ran toward her, but she sensed someone moving up from behind. She yanked out her spear and prepared to turn and use her sword to slash the one behind. But before she could turn, a body slammed into her back, pushing her forward as the edge of a giant blade cut deep across her cheek.
The soldier who’d been impaled rested against Kachka’s back, eyes wide in death, mouth forced open by the tip of the blade that had been shoved through it.
Snarling, Kachka jerked her body to the left, avoiding the body hanging from that ridiculous weapon.
“Gods! Kachka! Are you all right?”
Recognizing that voice, Kachka slowly turned and faced the steel-colored dragon behind her. She had to raise her gaze to look him in the eyes, blood from her wounded cheek dripping onto her shoulder and down her chest.
“It’s not my fault,” he said, yanking the weapon from his victim. “It’s the fault of this ridiculous blade I had to borrow from Brannie.”
“Me?” Brannie barked, using her tail to pound soldiers into the ground. “You’re blaming me because you can’t handle a bloody long sword?”
“This is a ridiculous weapon!”
Shaking her head, disgusted, Kachka refocused on the battle. Her team doing what it did best.
Those who’d come with the Rebel King, Brannie and her team, used their weapons, their flames, their tails, and one was just stomping on the enemy, the ground beneath Kachka shaking with each pound of its big feet.
A cloth was pressed against her wounded face.
“I’m so sorry,” Gaius said softly. He was in his human form now, his armor and weapons having shrunk down with him, so that he appeared to be any other soldier for hire, traveling the roads.
Fingers slid under her chin, turning her face toward him. He lifted the cloth and winced a bit. “You’ll have to get that sewn up, I’m afraid.”
Kachka continued to look over the continuing battle.
“You won’t look at me?” Gaius asked, humor in his voice.
“You are king and used to many protecting your back.” She glanced at him. “I am not king.”
“I see.”
Marina came over. There was much blood on her and some of the fur on her vest was singed from flame. She grabbed Kachka’s face, pulling it away from Gaius’s grasp. She yanked off the now blood-soaked cloth and studied the wound.
“You will live,” she said. Marina then studied Gaius. “Why are you here, Rebel King?”
“Heard there were enemies on my territory.”
“And you do not send troops? Legions you have, and you come yourself?” Marina laughed. “I will never understand you dragons.”
“Yes, well . . . since I was nearby . . . why waste the resources?” Gaius pulled another cloth from his belt. Gently gripping Kachka’s cheek, he carefully placed the soft material against her face and held it there.
Marina, smirking, quickly turned and walked back in to finish off the rest of the soldiers.
Kachka knew what her comrade was laughing at and she wanted to slap that smirk off her face, but Gaius was so close and she couldn’t do it without pulling herself away from him.
For some unknown reason, she didn’t want to pull away. At least not at the moment.
“I hope you didn’t mind us . . . helping out.”
“It was trap set for us. I expected extra troops of more crazed god lovers. Not three hundred trained soldiers.”
“More like two hundred soldiers.”
“First you cut my face, then you question my counting. You irritate me.”
“Yeah, Kachka. I missed you, too.”
That’s when Kachka jerked away from him, reaching back to snatch the cloth from his hand so she could press it against her face. She walked away, not even bothering to look back at him.
“If you laugh,” Aidan warned from behind him, “she will cut your throat.”
“I’m well aware. And I’m trying.” And Gaius was trying. He didn’t want to laugh at her. Well . . . actually, he did, but he knew that would be tacky at best. He had nearly sheared her head off while trying to protect her. Damn Southland swords!
Brannie continued slamming her tail down until the crying of the men stopped. “That was fun!” she said with a grin. For the last eight months she’d been forced to do stealthier work, sneaking up on the Rebel King’s kin and taking them down quickly and efficiently. Plus, there were often more than one or two dragons in the mix. And while that was a true challenge, sometimes a Dragonwarrior just wanted to kill. Human men were the best for that. So aggressive and sure they were strong enough to take down dragons, it made proving them wrong quite enjoyable.
Brannie lifted her tail, realized there was a human torso attached to it, which led to her flinging her tail around trying to get it off. She did, and it flew away, slamming into Caswyn’s face.
“Oy!” the dragon barked. “Watch it!”
“Oh, stop whining, you with bits of leg hanging out from between your fangs.”