A distant part of him heard people shouting and car horns blasting at his dangerous riding. A siren wailed somewhere behind him. Cops? Pursuing him?
He ignored them all, focused on getting to the safe house a few blocks away ASAP.
Banking a sharp left, he shot down an alley, relief rushing through him at its emptiness. No people. A few parked cars, all empty. That was it.
Hurry. Hurry.
He gunned the hog’s engine, sweat trickling into his eyes. The shift threatened him, so close now. Too close.
In his head, the surreal chanting grew louder, louder. So loud he could no longer hear the enraged screech of the dragon he was on the verge of becoming.
And through it all, the void, the emptiness left by his severed connection with Jilly, grew thicker. Colder.
When he found Garrison, he was going to kill the fucking—
Ari…
Jilly’s voice flooded his head the very second a bitter taste coated the back of his throat. A whirlwind of images lashed at him in a whipping frenzy. Images of ancient ceremonies, robed priests. Images of dragons circling a massive pyre.
Images of a naked woman of ethereal beauty reaching her hand out toward a dragon with golden scales.
Images of a dark room, a lone lamp…
Images of Garrison, smiling, raising his hand, palm up…
Not again, Jilly’s mind snarled, a heartbeat before the dark room blurred and Ari’s head exploded with fury and pain.
And fear.
He lost control of his bike. The world tilted in a sickening blur and he went down, his Harley spewing sparks as it—and he—slid sideways across the asphalt.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He didn’t know whose voice screamed in his head, his or Jilly’s. Maybe both. Frantic panic flooded through him a second before he crashed into the wheel of a parked car.
The bones of his shoulder snapped, the sound detonating through him like a gunshot. His body erupted in pain. He heard Jilly shout something in his head, and then the world turned red and he transformed.
Human no more.
His massive wings collided with the brick walls of the buildings, slapping against them as he flailed in the narrow space. His tail whipped about, smashing into the walls, garbage bins, a car. He careened side to side, his dragon form incapable of fitting in the confined area. The agony of his shattered human shoulder sheared through the rage of his entrapment, the magic of his species reknitting the bones, healing the shoulder even as his dragon’s fury burned through him.
He threw back his head and screeched, wings and tail and one leg scraping against brick and car and ground.
And in his head, Jilly’s fear and anger screamed louder.
Louder.
Loud—
“For the glory!”
A smug human voice slid over his senses, accompanied by a sour scent Ari knew all too well.
Colin.
The fucking inept Extraho Venator.
Behind him.
Shit.
The distinct sound of a crossbow being cocked filled the alley. Colin’s rapid breathing and pulse joined it.
“For the glory,” the dragon hunter whispered again.
Screaming against the ripping pressure on his dual existence, Ari forced the shift back to human form.
Agony tore through him. It was too soon to transform back, too dangerous for both his existences, too soon for his injured human body, but he had to. The broken bones of his human shoulder—on their way to being healed—snapped again, scraping against each other, gouging into his muscles as the retransformation began.
A shower of brick dust and mortar peppered down on him as a crossbow bolt speared into the wall near his head.
Ari screeched, the sound becoming a scream as the change from dragon to human tortured him.
And then he stood human again, naked, bleeding and disorientated.
He staggered sideways once, bare feet tangling, his body fighting for equilibrium. His heart—human once again—thumped fast and hard in his throat. His shoulder burned in pain.
“Goddamn it!” Colin snarled behind him, a heartbeat before the unmistakable thawk of a fired crossbow pulsed through the air.
Ari spun, shoulders bunched, teeth clenched, and deflected the bolt as it skimmed his temple.
“Crap!” Colin yelped, scrambling backward.
Ari ran at him.
With another yelp, the dragon hunter turned and fled.
Ari caught him, slamming his broken shoulder into the small of Colin’s back. Black pain erupted through him and his head swam with swirls of agony as they hit the ground.
“Get off me!” Colin wailed, bucking and thrashing.
Ari lurched up and staggered back a step, head still a swirling fog of pain, as Colin jumped to his feet and swung the crossbow about like a sword.
Ari blocked the wild blow with a grunt, pain lancing from his broken bones down his arm and rib cage.
Shutting it out, he smashed his other fist into the frantic dragon hunter’s jaw, his nose, his mouth. Driving him to the ground, pinning him there with his weight.
Colin gibbered and squealed and bucked, legs and arms flailing. The limb of the crossbow connected with Ari’s shoulder, and he roared, white-hot pain clouding his vision for a sickening moment.
Ari!
Jilly’s scream splintered his mind.
His vision cleared, just as Colin slammed the foregrip of the crossbow up into his chin.
Ari reeled backward, but immediately threw himself at Colin.
The dragon hunter may have been a woeful archer, but he was a scrappy fighter. He punched at Ari, smashing his crossbow into his head and shoulder over and over. It took Ari every ounce of control to stop shifting again. His dragon wanted nothing more than to turn the hunter to ash.
The wet smack of flesh hitting flesh bounced off the towering walls. The coppery scent of blood—Ari’s and Colin’s—tainted every breath Ari pulled. Beyond the alley, traffic moved, car horns sounded.
“I’m going…to kill you,” the dragon hunter snarled, eyes wild and wide as he fought against Ari.
“I’m going to fucking eat you,” Ari growled back, blocking another frenzied blow of Colin’s crossbow.
Terror flooded Colin’s face. He bucked. Thrashed.
Drawing on his inner fury, Ari smashed his fist into Colin’s nose, striking him with an inferno blast of concentrated rage at the same time.
Colin went limp on the ground, breaths shallow, eyes rolling, skin blistered.
“Stay down,” Ari
