A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(167)

I would do anything to keep them safe.

The lightning didn’t come from above.

It came from within me.

The snarl of lightning burst from my chest. From my mouth. My eyes and fingertips and toes. It was white hot and almost sentient, following along the path I’d set for it. It rolled from inside me with an electrical snap, pouring out and crawling over Myrin. It jumped along the water covering his skin, his wet clothes, striking down into the surface of the lake through his feet.

The entire lake became electrified beneath us. The world took on a bluish hue as the lightning spread through the water, arcing off in different directions. It glowed so brightly, it was almost as if the sun had risen.

Myrin’s jaw was clenched as his body seized. The grip around my throat tightened, but it was a flexion of the joints more than anything else. His eyes were beginning to roll back into his head, and I pushed as hard as I could, filling his body with everything I had. My own skin felt like it was on fire.

“You… won’t… win,” he stuttered out, jaw clenched. “This is the beginning… of the end.”

I smiled at him, knowing my eyes were glowing brightly. “Dude, go fuck yourself.”

And then I went boom.

The grip around my neck was torn as we were thrown away from each other, the shock waves rippling the air around us. I had a moment to think how much this was going to fucking hurt before I slammed into the side of a building, the wood cracking behind me before giving way and sending me through the wall.

It got dark real quick after that.




“SAM? SAM!”

“Whazzit.”

“I need you to open your eyes. Sam, listen to me.”

“Whodat.”

“What?”

“I think he just asked who dat?”

“Thank you, Gary. That helped me with absolutely nothing.”

“Yikes, someone woke up bitchy today. And that someone is named Ryan Foxheart.”

“He sad ’cause Sam go boom?”

“Yes, kitten.”

“I sad ’cause Sam go boom?”

“We’ll be sad if he dies. And after an acceptable period of mourning—say, three and a half days?—we’ll start to divide up his stuff. I get mostly everything, and the things I don’t want will be thrown away. Or donated to charity. Most likely thrown away.”

“I get his brooms.”

“I don’t know where this broom fetish came from. I had absolutely nothing to do with that. You are a strange, wonderful half-giant who I love dearly.”

“It’s because he stole them from my keep. Everyone knows that brooms are part of any good hoard. It’s just common sense is what it is. I mean, why wouldn’t you have brooms?”

“Shuddap,” I said. “Tryna leep.”

“What the hell is he saying?”

“Shut up. Trying to sleep. Oooo, I’m like the Sam whisperer. My thighs are tingling. That’s a good thing, especially since he seems to get knocked out a lot lately.”

“I am going to slap the shit out of him if he doesn’t open his eyes.”

And since that voice sounded serious (and slightly frantic), I did just that.

I blinked blearily at the faces staring down at me.

They all looked immediately relieved.

And because I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be an asshole, I said, “Where am I? Who are all of you? Why can’t I remember anything, such as my own name or country of origin or the people in my life who I am supposed to love?”

Gary burst into tears and started wailing. “Oh my gods, he’s lost his memories. Why, gods, whyyyyy would you do that to us? How can he remember how splendid I am if he doesn’t know who I am? Do you know much work I put into him? Why? Whyyyyyyy!”

“Oh no, Sam!” Tiggy said, bottom lip quivering. “’Member me? Old pal, Tiggy?”

Yeah. You try having a half-giant on the verge of tears staring at you and saying something like that. “Just kidding! Oh my gods, I’m kidding. Sweet molasses, that face. Gaaah, I want to hug it and kiss it, what are you even?”

Gary immediately stopped shrieking, eyes dry. “You fucking motherfucker fuck,” he snarled, sounding rather impressed. “You should go live under a bridge, that was such good trolling. I am going to murder you.”

“Not if I get to it first,” Ryan said, grinding his teeth together.

“Uh-oh,” Kevin said, face stuck through the large window. “Either Sam’s about to get kissed or punched in the butt, I don’t know which—oh, he’s getting kissed. Personally, I would have gone for the butt punch, but what do I know?”

I couldn’t respond that Kevin knew absolutely nothing because I had a mouthful of knight. Not that I was complaining.

Okay, I was a little bit, because that hurt. Everything hurt. “Ow,” I said against his mouth before I shoved him away. “Dude, your face on my face does not feel good right now.”

“You fucking asshole,” he snarled at me, eyes wide and frightened. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

“You know we’ve talked about cursing, Ryan. You can’t fucking talk like—okay, you’re right. Now’s not the time. Stop looking at me like that.” I sat up, groaning as I did so. I put my hand to my head, which was pounding something fierce. Somehow I was back in the room Ryan and I were sharing, wearing only a pair of what looked like Ryan’s trousers. My body felt like it was covered in bruises. I looked down at my bare chest, expecting to see mottled blues and purples, but was surprised instead to see a raised red scar that looked like tree roots stretching along my skin, curling down toward my stomach and over to my right arm.