The Dragon Legion Collection(24)

And now he was vulnerable as a result.

“Look what I found when I went to collect the boy I’d bought,” Jorge crowed. “Did you lose something?” The Slayer grinned, obviously knowing the source of the scale. He deliberately snapped the scale in half.

Alexander fell to his knees at the violent stab of pain that shot through his body. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think of anything beyond the excruciating pain. The line of dragonsmoke broke, because he couldn’t control it any longer.

Jorge laughed. He stepped out of the noose of dragonsmoke, then strode to Alexander. He smiled, then snapped the scale again and again, each crack escalating the pain Alexander felt. He writhed on the ground, feeling consciousness slip away.

“That will teach you to challenge me,” Jorge said, casting the pieces of scale over Alexander’s body with disdain.

Alexander closed his eyes, assessing the damage to his body and knowing the injury would kill him. He tried to close the wounds on his chest, but the blood flowed warm and thick over his hands. He knew he was losing too much blood, just as he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

So, he had returned to his own time just to see Katina, realize they couldn’t be together, lose his son and die.

It was far, far less than what he’d hoped to achieve

“Papa!” a young boy shouted in the distance. “No!”

Alexander was consumed by pain, but that cry gave him new strength. Lysander! No, the boy couldn’t come close to Jorge!

“Stay back!” Alexander cried.

“By all means, come right to me,” the Slayer said, then his voice dropped low. He breathed steadily, exhaling a stream of dragonsmoke. Alexander saw a young boy running toward him, a young boy with Pyr blood in his veins, and knew his son would be the Slayer’s next victim. Behind Lysander was Katina.

Jorge would destroy her next.

Never! Alexander would give his all to see them safe. He knew Jorge’s tactic and knew he had little time to make a difference. He breathed dragonsmoke as quickly as he could, choking as he forced himself to loose a long unbroken stream.

Jorge’s dragonsmoke swirled high, then shot through the air toward Lysander. The boy froze, his eyes wide in terror. He could see it, proof of his nature.

In that same moment, Alexander drove his dragonsmoke plume in pursuit of Jorge’s. He used every vestige of his power to urge it on. His dragonsmoke locked around Jorge’s dragonsmoke, entwining the two streams. He made the tip on his rise up, like a snake preparing to strike, then plunged it into the tip of Jorge’s dragonsmoke.


Alexander felt Jorge’s shock, but had to make this work. “Take my strength instead,” he invited in old-speak, wishing he knew something about beguiling Slayers. “I have more than the boy.”

Jorge laughed. “You’re trying to be noble.” He said this as if it were a ridiculous trait.

“You’re just afraid I’m too strong for you,” Alexander taunted. “You’re just afraid a seasoned dragon warrior has too much power for you to tame.”

Jorge snarled. His eyes flashed, then he turned on Alexander, seizing control of the dragonsmoke with lightning speed. Alexander immediately felt the change and was shocked by the Slayer’s agility.

The conduit became Jorge’s possession, the dragonsmoke drawing energy from Alexander with unexpected hunger. The dragonsmoke felt icy cold, even as it burned his mouth and his tongue. Alexander felt it draw from his mouth, his lungs, his heart, his very soul. He was being sucked dry, while Jorge became larger and more radiant. The Slayer’s new wings arched high over his head and flapped with power. His scales gleamed. His wounds healed. His expression was jubilant.

Alexander felt the life leave his body. He felt himself shifting uncontrollably between his human and his dragon form. He knew he would die.

But if Lysander and Katina were safe, it would all be worth it.

He had one more thing to do to ensure that.

“I am recovered!” Jorge roared, when Alexander felt like an empty shell. The Slayer’s voice shook the very ground. “I am remade!”

“You should return to the future,” Alexander murmured, wishing he had the power to force the Slayer to take his advice. “Defeat Chen while your power is high.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has he drained a Pyr dry? You said there was no more Elixir. He must be weak, while you are powerful. Triumph could be yours.”

Jorge grinned. “Your thinking is sound in your last moments of life.” His eyes lit and he raged fire at the sky as he laughed and laughed.

Alexander wasn’t sure the Slayer would take his advice, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He had to know for sure.

“Take me to Chen!” Jorge bellowed aloud.

Suddenly, there was a glitter of darkfire, like blue-green stars glittering in the distance.

A heartbeat later, Jorge was gone.

Alexander closed his eyes, praying Katina would forgive him for abandoning her again, as all turned to black.



* * *



The yellow dragon disappeared so abruptly that Katina feared her eyes were deceiving her. “Is he gone?” she asked Lysander, who took a deep breath.

“I can’t smell him anymore. I don’t see him either.” Her son scampered closer, pausing to bend over a fallen figure. “Poor Theo. Will he get better, Mama?”