Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(64)
So these humans wanted to play…
Before he could lunge or retreat, a tall, handsome man in his early thirties, wearing a charcoal-gray suit, with meticulously groomed brown hair, stepped forward in the doorway, and Zane knew in an instant that this was the guy who had been throwing off all that shade: the thick, disturbing vibration that Zane and Levi had originally felt.
This man wasn’t just pumped with adrenaline; this man was summarily, personally, and intrinsically pissed off. And he had been staring like a hawk at Jordan before shifting that hate-filled gaze to Zane.
Shit, Zane thought, immediately putting two and two together: So none of this had anything to do with Jordan’s case or the jury selection. It had nothing to do with the defendant. It was all about Jordan and Zane.
She had somehow gotten an SOS out to her human friends.
Zane swallowed his fury and instantly went dark—perhaps light was a more accurate term—the dragyri went invisible.
And then he prepared to lunge, right across the courtroom, land on the plaintiff’s table, and grab Jordan by the waist—he would bust through the ninth-floor, bulletproof glass if he had to and take her out through the window.
His biceps twitched.
His pectoral muscles jerked.
And the ribbed, satiny wings nestled inside of his back began to expand behind his shoulder blades, preparing to open on command.
Whoa, brother! Levi’s telepathic intrusion was about as subtle as a cannonball leaving the muzzle as it slammed into his head. Don’t do anything stupid, Zane. There are a lot of unknown variables going on in this scene: You can block bullets, but Jordan can’t; you can pass through walls, but your dragyra cannot—the broken glass could eviscerate her. You can see and breathe through smoke or gas, but she could be adversely affected. The only way out of this may be to take a few lives—and I’m with you, if that’s what it comes to—but these guys, their souls; they’re not tainted, Zane. We will have to violate law.
You think I give a flying shit, Zane roared in Levi’s mind, spinning around to face him. He immediately realized that Levi had gone light’s out, too, shrouded in invisibility with him, but it didn’t matter: not one ounce. He could track the dragyri’s primordial heartbeat. He could zoom in on the blood rushing in the dragyri’s veins. Lord Saphyrius will understand, he snarled, sounding as mad as he felt. Lord Saphyrius will have my back!
His dragon was growing increasingly agitated, and he sidestepped out of the lasers’ crosshairs, now that the snipers could no longer see him. Then he dropped down low, hunched his back, and his dragon began to snarl. His fingers curled inward as his claws began to grow, and a subtle wisp of smoke coalesced at the exhale of his breath.
Two powerful arms encircled him from behind. “Zane!” This time Levi growled in his ear. “Call back your beast, brother! You don’t want to do this.”
A red haze of madness began to swirl about Zane’s head as two team members—these dudes were obviously SWAT—snatched Jordan by both arms, yanked her out of her seat, and began to drag her down the aisle, all the while running backward. At the same time, two other armed guards created a barricade in front of them—shielding them with their bodies and their weapons, sweeping the rifles side to side—as they took the rear retreat.
“Be still,” Levi whispered in Dragonese. “Stay with my voice. She’s not in any danger.” He tightened his hold around Zane’s trembling shoulders. “Breathe, brother…just breathe.” The male was working so hard to restrain Zane’s temper that a soft white light began to glow around his arms. “Let’s follow them instead, see where they take her. They will move her to someplace far more secluded, and then we will have the tactical advantage. Besides, at this juncture, we need to know who they are, how much they know, how many we need to neutralize. No need to blaze this place, my brother. There’s nowhere they can go; there’s no place they can hide; there is nothing they can do to stop us. Comprende?”
What the heck?
Had Levi just switched to Spanish?
Zane closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, sniffing out two distinct aromas: Jordan’s initial terror—and then relief—and that bastard’s overwhelming stench of triumph.
The guy in the tailored suit…
The one with the well-groomed hair…
Zane would never, ever forget that scent.
And innocent soul or not—he would gnaw on the human’s spine like a dog with a bone—chew it down to the marrow.
Levi whistled low beneath his breath, clearly tuned into Zane’s thoughts. We can evaluate that possibility later, he said telepathically, this time. But right now—right now—I need you to be one hundred percent—focused, alert, and fully present—so we can trail these guys…and Jordan. You with me? Zane?
Zanaikeyros reined in his dragon.
He called back the beast.
And he slowly nodded his head, even though he knew Levi couldn’t see it.
“Thank you,” he grunted, almost unintelligibly, regaining his sense of composure. And then he shuddered at the territorial ferocity of his own inner dragon—never in all his years had he possessed such a primal impulse, such a savage, possessive desire to kill.
This claiming was truly a deeply ingrained, all-pervasive drive.
And Levi Saphyrius had just saved an entire courthouse full of humans from an unimaginable slaughter.