The Viper's Nest (Kit Davenport #4)(58)

Cole was being smart, taking us out of the city and reducing the risk of bystanders getting caught in the cross fire, but there were still a lot of innocent people out on these roads that I’d really rather not get shot by bullets intended for me.

“Maybe they’re something else?” Wesley was thinking out loud, so I didn’t bother replying as I flicked the safety off Cole’s gun one-handed and turned in my seat to return fire. “Like, a new kind of paralyzing bullet or something? Ones that can be used in a normal hand gun? I can’t fathom Director Pierre trying to actually kill you!”

“Sure seems like that’s happening,” I growled, shutting down all the hurt and pain of my dad setting me up. Using the same technique for locking my emotions from the guys, I locked them from myself too. There was a time and a place for having a breakdown, and on the back of a speeding motorcycle while being shot at wasn’t it.

“Don’t take any chances,” River’s voice advised over the earpiece.

Exactly my thoughts.

There was no way I was taking any chances. Tranq darts or paralyzing bullets would actually be worse than real bullets—family betrayal aside—because they would allow Cole and I to be taken. That could never happen. Not again. My kidnapping days were done.

Another shot rang out, and this time we weren’t quick enough to avoid it.

“Yep,” I coughed, gritting my teeth against the cold shock of pain where the bullet had gouged a deep furrow in my arm. “Definitely bullets.”

Twisting in my seat, I fired back. Both bikes were now close on our heels, and I had a lucky score when one of my bullets found its mark in the chest of one biker. He careened out of control, crashing into the concrete wall running alongside the highway we were on.

When his bike hit, he flew clear over the handlebars and disappeared from view.

“One down,” I gritted, and Cole glanced over his shoulder at me.

“You doing okay, Vixen?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

Clasping his gun tightly so as not to drop it, I closed my eyes briefly and let my magic heal the wound on my upper arm. I’d need to be careful, though, how much magic I was using now. Just in case I would need more later.

“Yup, peachy,” I replied. “One bike and one car left.” As I said this, another round of shots cracked through the night, and one lodged itself in my side.

Fuck. That hurt like a bitch.

Some things, I was sure, were impossible to get used to. Getting shot was one of those things for me.

Grinding my teeth together so hard I could have sworn they were about to break, I kept myself from making any noise. Telling Cole, or really any of the guys, wasn’t going to help us right now. It’d only distract them, which was unnecessary. I couldn’t be killed by normal bullets, only weakened.

When I tried to twist to return fire again, I found two things. One, I couldn’t twist thanks to the new wound in my side. Two, I was out of ammo.

“Fuck,” I snarled. I knew Cole probably had spare ammo on him, but that was going to require more hands than I currently had available. Reaching around him, I tucked the now useless gun back into his holster and summoned my magic instead.

Whatever it takes. No one is taking me tonight.

Forming a ball of blue ice-flame, the fire specific to Cole’s dragon, I hurled it back at the SUV following us, hoping it would disable the vehicle.

Shit. Missed.

“Vixen,” Cole yelled to me, grabbing my attention, “give me your hand.” He took one hand from his handle bars and snatched my opposite hand from across his body.

“I’m pulling you through,” he warned, then used a combination of dragon strength and some seriously impressive driving to haul me around his body so that I sat straddling the bike in front of him, my legs draped over his thighs.

Better still, now I could see my targets.

“Fuck them up, Vixen,” he rumbled, replacing his hands on the handlebars and keeping his eyes on the road. His job was to keep us alive and get us free of our tails. Mine was to deter, delay, or destroy them. Whatever it took to ensure our freedom.

“My pleasure.” I grinned, gripping him tightly with my legs while forming another ball of flame and lobbing it at the SUV speeding behind us. We were on the road heading up to the Hollywood Hills, and there were thankfully no other cars around to see what happened when that burning ball of ice-flame hit the hood of the black Escalade.

Blue flame spread across the front of the car like wildfire, clinging to it in the way only magical fire ever could. Within seconds it had penetrated the engine, and the whole front of the SUV exploded. Shards of ice-covered machinery rained down, but we were already gone, speeding up the inclining road which would take us into the hills.

A stinging itch alerted me to my body pushing the bullet out of my side, but I could still feel blood flowing freely from the wound. It would heal over in a few more minutes; I wasn’t concerned about that. But I could feel a slight weakening from the combination of healing and magical grenades.

“One left,” I told Cole, watching as the remaining biker followed at a safer distance than what I’d nailed his buddies at.

Waiting, I formed another ball of flame. This one was made of Vali’s dragon fire and burned a blinding orange-red in my palm. Creating and throwing fireballs had been one of the first—and only—dragon skills I had mastered since we’d bonded, and it was seriously coming in handy.