Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(56)

Pia glanced behind as well. Goblins don’t ride, she said. Even I’ve heard that. Horses won’t tolerate them.

That’ll be their allies, the Dark Fae, he told her. He realized his raptor’s eyesight was much better than hers. He could see the Fae riders perfectly.

For the first time during their flight, her face showed strain. They have crossbows.

Buck up, girly girl. He gave her his machete smile. Things are just getting interesting.

He picked up speed, and true to her boast, she kept pace, her mane of blonde hair flying behind and long gazelle legs flashing. Damn, he was proud of her.

The land broke up ahead of them, a rocky bluff rising along the horizon. They had run perhaps a half mile more when a dozen Dark Fae riders appeared along the top of the bluff.

The riders on the bluff weren’t riding horses.

They were astride Fae creatures that looked like giant dragonflies. Huge, black-veined, transparent wings glimmered with rainbow hues.

Pia slowed and came to a stop when she saw them. Beside her, Dragos did the same. She pressed a hand to her side and turned in a circle. They were trapped.

She sat down on the ground and put her head in her hands. He knelt beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. There wasn’t anything to say.

Once they had stopped running, their pursuers slowed and approached with more caution. The Goblins spread out in a half-circle formation, the Dark Fae riders interspersed among them. The Dark Fae atop the bluff remained where they were, sitting astride the giant dragonfly creatures while they watched the scene unfold below.

Pia shaded her eyes as she stared at them. The third one from the left radiated a chill Power unlike any of the others. She swallowed, trying to relieve her dry throat. “Over there,” she said. “The Fae King is on the bluff, isn’t he?”

Dragos sat behind her and pulled her against his chest. “Yes. He’s waiting to see if he’s needed.”

“Still no shift,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

He shook his head. “I need a little more time.”

He needed time they didn’t have. She turned her face into his sun-warmed skin. His breathing was slow and easy. She marveled at his calm.

She wasn’t calm. She was running around inside her head like a crazy person, her heart still doing the jackrabbit dance. She thought of the beating the Goblins had given her. She thought of Keith and his bookie, both dead. She thought of the switchblade in the pocket of her leggings.

Dragos released her, rose up on his knees and removed the weapons harness. He laid the battle-axe and sword aside. Then he removed the short sword he had buckled at his waist and put it on the ground with the other weapons. He stared at the approaching host, eyes narrowed, as he told her, “Maybe if I don’t fight, I can negotiate with them to let you go.”

“You can’t just surrender,” she said. “They’re going to kill you!”

“Probably not right away.” His expression was all brutality and harsh angles. “If I surrender, it may buy some time. If I can get you away, you could try to get back to my people in New York and tell them what happened. They would keep you safe.”

He meant they might not kill him right away because they would torture him. She felt her bile rise.

She studied the Dark Fae King on the bluff. She had never hated anyone so much, especially someone she hadn’t met before.

He was another of the world’s premiere Powers, one of the oldest of the Elder Races. His knowledge and memory of Earth’s lore and history would be extensive. As Dragos had pointed out, there was no telling what Keith might have blabbed before she stopped him up with the binding spell. And Urien had Elven connections, if not Ferion, then perhaps one of the other Elves who had witnessed her discussion with Ferion and had heard enough to speculate.

“It won’t work anyway,” she said in a flat voice. “They’re not going to let me go.”

He glanced down at her, not bothering to argue. “Then we fight.”

“I won’t be captured,” she told him. She dug into her pocket and withdrew the switchblade. She pressed the lever and the blade snicked open.

Quicker than sight, he grabbed her wrist. His eyes blazed. “The f**k are you doing?” he snapped. “You won’t be captured? Then we fight. We don’t give up.”

She glanced at Goblins and Dark Fae. There were so many of them, they were a small army. They were almost in bow-shot range.

She put a hand over his. “Dragos, this time will you trust me? Will you let me try one more thing and not ask me any questions about it?”

His hand and face were like stone, his body clenched.

She fought a sense of rising panic and kept her voice soft. “Please,” she said. “There isn’t much time.”

His fingers loosened. He let her go. She rose to her knees and faced him. He held still and watched her face as she put the tip of the blade against the white scar at his shoulder. She concentrated on the dark bronze of his bare skin. She bit her lip and tried to make her hand move, but all she did was start to shake. Her grip on the switchblade turned white-knuckled.

“Damn it,” she gritted. “I can’t cut you.”

His hand came over hers again. This time he gave a quick jerk and the blade bit into his skin, right over the scar. Hot, brilliant blood began to flow from the cut. She took a choppy breath and nodded to him. He let go of her again.