But from such a good-looking man, it’s a compliment that can’t help but make me smile.
“All right, flatterer, I’ll be back for more pizza sometime. Probably.” I point at Brett because, for some reason, he always draws my attention. “And you, stay away from my door at night. If I go out late, it’s none of your business. I’m fine.”
His eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to protest, but I just grin as I slide out of the door and jog to the stairway before anyone can stop me.
As I walk up the stairs, pizza in hand, I can’t help but remember the sudden surge of pure lust that went through me. The way everything in my vision just zeroed in on Brett’s handsome face.
The way my body seemed to melt for him when no one has affected me like that before.
As I let myself back into my apartment, I’m determined to push that memory down into my subconscious and never think about it again.
4
Brett (Boreas)
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I ask Flynn, who is making a strained face at the tiny smartphone in his hand, tapping it repeatedly with his finger.
“I… believe so,” he says with some uncertainty.
Since Avery doesn’t seem to be in any present danger yet, we’re still accepting missions from Chadwick, the purple dragon who helped us get adjusted to this world.
“Let me see that,” Ian says, grabbing the small, too-breakable device from Flynn’s hand. He peers at it a for a second, letting out a puff of air that dissipates into the wind, then hands it back in frustration.
We are used to following magic streams, not maps.
The ground beneath us is asphalt, cracked everywhere, with dead grass and small bushes springing up through the divots.
There are a few abandoned cars, the remnants of a couple old buildings. We parked a ways off and then walked the rest.
We couldn’t fly, because four guys with giant, colorful flame wings are just bound to be noticed.
“Chad said it would be right here,” Flynn says, staring at the phone again while Ian peers over his shoulder.
“Over there. Look,” Tanner says, drawing all of our attention as he points directly forward.
Ahead of us on the ground, not far away, there’s a dark mist pooling and swirling, rising up in misty tendrils.
As I watch, the mist continues to thicken and grow higher as cracks of electricity spark from the darkness.
I can feel the hum of chaos energy making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in excitement.
I have no fear. I was born to battle chaos.
Before any of us can speak, a tall figure emerges from the dark mist, coming upward from the ground.
It’s a man, slightly taller than we are in our suppressed forms, and fairly large in stature. But even though he’s wearing human clothes, I can smell the chaos coming off him in waves.
“Chaos-infected shifter,” Flynn says. “A dragon, given the size of him. Chadwick was right.”
The man seems unable to shift, though with a dragon’s natural strength and chaos running through his veins, he’s still a formidable enemy in human form.
His eyes open, and I see dark, glittering orbs where eyes should be. Immediately, he lets out a shriek, screaming and falling to his knees as the mist dissipates into nothingness around him.
Dark wings burst out of his back, leathery and black like a dragon’s but covered in dark magic like a fae’s.
“Destroy. Must… destroy,” he growls, clutching the sides of his head. He has very short brown hair. A face that might have been normal if not for the deep purple of the veins around his eyes and down his neck. The black shadows swirling around his features.
“That thing is pure evil,” Ian says with disgust, taking a step back from it.
A loud crack shakes the earth as the chaos creature, whatever he is, throws his fist into the ground, sending asphalt flying in pieces around him. And as he does, he looks directly at me, face contorted in a snarl, looking ready to destroy anything in his path. His wings are beating behind him ominously, giving off puffs of black smoke.
My heart doesn’t move a beat faster. I’m totally calm as I size him up and decide my next actions.
Because even as my instinct to destroy chaos without mercy is rapidly kicking in, part of me is uncertain as to how evil this dragon truly is.
“Let’s just put him down like the rabid dog he is,” Ian says abruptly, stepping forward and reaching behind him, presumably to pull out his wand. Before he can, I put an arm out, stopping him.
“Wait,” I say sharply. “We don’t have to kill him.”
Ian looks at me as if I’ve just stated that fire fae are the best kind. “You can’t be serious. He reeks of chaos, Brett. If he escapes, if he reaches humans…”
“I can stop him,” I say firmly. “You know I can.”
Ian steps back impatiently as I take my place in front of the half-shifted dragon.
The creature is on his feet now, muscles in his forearms bulging, chest heaving with heavy breaths that cast long lines of wintery mist from his mouth and nostrils.
I move forward, standing at the front of the fae. “I just need to know it isn’t under the control of someone else.”
“Anything involving chaos must be dealt with swiftly,” Ian growls from behind me. “Before we are all infected.”
“This is different. Look at his face. He’s not enjoying this. He’s in pain.”
“I agree,” Flynn says, for once siding with me. “He’s—”
He’s cut off by another scream as the dragon starts forward, feet stomping into the stiff ground so hard it cracks beneath him. His fists are clenched, eyes wide with rage, locked on mine.
Around me, the fae move back, and Ian raises his hands as if to absolve himself of my foolery.
But as much as I hate chaos, I can’t destroy another living thing so heedlessly, though Ian might call me softhearted.
I roll up my sleeves as I turn to face the dragon.
This is what I was born to do.
“Die!” the creature yells at the top of his lungs, gathering chaos in one fist as he lunges at me, ready to strike with all his might.
But before his fist even comes close, I kick the heel of my foot forward, striking him in his exposed chest. The impact of my boot makes a loud thud, and he careens backward thirty feet through the air, landing on the ground and rolling several times.
Even with my powers suppressed, this will be almost too easy.
No dragon, in any form, can fight a fae prince one on one.
Our strength is just too different.
But to my surprise, this dragon is on his feet in an instant, seemingly unfazed by the incredible impact. The dark orbs of his eyes glitter with chaos power, making his possessed-looking appearance more sinister.
I crack my knuckles, jogging forward as he charges again.
He swings a powerful punch toward me, the air whooshing from the strength of it. But I duck under easily, countless years of training making his movements seem almost infantile.
He swings again, and this time I catch his fist in my hand, wincing at the feel of the chaos there.
He’s strong. Perhaps stronger than any normal dragon I’ve crossed fists with before.
Most of them fight in dragon form, but I suppose he’s too confused to think long enough to shift right now.