Condensation gathered, wicking off his scales as he glanced over his shoulder. His gaze landed on the warriors flying in his wake. Venom’s mouth curved. Man, what a sight. Symmetry in motion, his brothers assembled behind him, a lethal collection of kick-ass flying in perfect formation. The forest thinned in front of them. A rock face rose, jutting out at odd angles into the night sky. Angling his wings, Venom banked into a tight turn. Curls of air swirled from his wingtips, rushing over the side of the cliff. Shale rattled and let go, tumbling down the rocky outcropping as he flipped into a fast roll and rocketed over the beachhead. Settling into a smooth glide over the river, he followed the snake-like flow, his gaze on the surface of the water below.
Another round of thunder rumbled overhead.
The first raindrop hit, splattering over one of his horns. Sensation swirled at his temples as Wick fired up mind-speak.
“Mac.”
“Yeah?”
“Delay the waterworks.”
The female cradled in one of his talons, Wick raised the other, curling it over her head, protecting her from rain. Magic gathered between his friend’s claws. Venom frowned. Holy jeez. His friend’s reaction to her was bizarre. Way beyond the pale. Outside his usual boundaries, using his body heat and a spell to keep her warm.
Good for J. J. Confusing as hell for him. He’d never seen Wick act so… so… goddamn protective. Of anyone.
Tucking her closer, Wick shielded her from the rising wind. “I don’t want her to get wet.”
Forge grunted. “Tae chilly for her.”
“Got that covered.” More warmth rose to surround J. J., creating a bubble-like barrier around Wick’s claws. “But her cast—”
“On it.” Bladed spine glinting in the storm flash, Mac murmured a command. Magic flared, and water droplets evaporated into thin air. The blackening sky froze, as though pausing mid-breath, cutting off the sound of thunder. “I’ll deal with the waterfall too.”
Good plan. They were almost home.
The river rushed into a 45-degree turn.
Increasing his wing speed, Venom wheeled around the corner. Majestic and full, the waterfall cascaded from three hundred feet up, roaring toward the river below. Mist bellowed, rising in wet clouds, tumbling into spray as each tendril reached for the sky. Upon approach, Mac did his thing, suppressing the drizzle, subduing the fog and…
The waterfall split in half, parting like curtains.
“Shite… would you look at that?” Purple scales flashing, Forge broke formation, dipping in behind Wick. The others followed suit, abandoning the fighting triangle to form a single line.
“Like it,” Sloan said, rotating into a slow flip at the rear of the procession. “Wicked move.”
Mac laughed.
Wick growled in approval.
Venom grinned, agreeing without hesitation. Their resident water dragon deserved the accolade. The move was wicked. He liked the cause and effect. No splashdown. No wet scales or chilly blow back. Just clear sailing as he went wings vertical. The sound of rushing water roared in his ears. His heartbeat picked up as he threaded the needle—slicing through the opening, wet curtain flowing on either side of him—and rocketed into the underground tunnel. Musty air rushed at him. Complete darkness descended. His senses spiked, narrowing until his night vision took over. The red glow of his gaze rolled out in front of him, guiding him, illuminating the darkness, allowing him to see each jagged edge.
Navigating the tight space, Venom banked into the last turn. A soft yellow glow penetrated the gloom, narrowing his flight path. He closed the distance and flew into the cavern. The domed ceiling rose above him. Held aloft by magic, light globes bobbed, bumping into each other seventy-five feet above his head. Quick on the trigger, he tucked his wings and set down fast.
The pads of his talons slid against stone.
Venom dug in and, claws shrieking, shifted into human form mid-skid. With a mental flick, he conjured his clothes and hightailed it to the rear of the landing zone. Standing around wasn’t a good idea. Not with the lethal group hot on his heels. His pack would turn him into a bowling pin—eighty-six his ass as each one landed—if he didn’t get out of the way. The LZ might be long, wide, deep, so expansive it launched four dragons at a time, but…
Hell. He’d chosen to lead the flight home. Which made him lucky number five tonight.
Circling around the Honda in the middle of the LZ, Venom watched his brothers-in-arms rocket into the cave. True to form, Mac and Forge landed in tandem at opposite ends of the platform, leaving lots of room for the final two. As both warriors transformed, stomping their feet into their shitkickers, Wick flew in with Sloan on his tail. The work of seconds, his best friend set down. Poised on his back paws, Wick wing flapped once and shifted into human form. Sinking to his knees on the stone floor, he wrapped his arms around J. J.
Cradled in his lap with her eyes squeezed shut, her bottom lip quivered.
“It’s all right,” Wick said, his tone soft and sure. “Jamison… look at me.”
She shook her head.
Venom’s heart sank. God, she looked so small. So pale bundled inside the harsh black of the too-large leather jacket. Way too scared to weather the storm and come through unscathed.
Not that he blamed Wick for her near panic.
His best friend was doing all he could—holding her gently, using a reassuring tone, being sympathetic instead of sociopathic… acting like a normal male might under similar circumstances. But Venom knew the truth. Wick wasn’t normal. Honed by brutality and abuse, the male wasn’t equipped to interact with a female, never mind give her what she needed. And any minute now? His friend would freak out. Lose his cool. React as he always did when faced with a female.
The realization drew Venom tight. He needed to step in. Step up. Intercede and neutralize Wick in order to save J. J. from additional pain, but… hell. Convincing Wick to release her wasn’t going to be fun.
Rolling his shoulders, Venom fisted his hands, then uncurled his fingers and repeated the process. Flex. Release. Open. Close. The movement helped him think. Strategy was paramount when it came to Wick. If he moved too fast, his friend would fight. If he didn’t move fast enough, J. J. would suffer the consequences. Not something he wanted to contemplate, never mind explain to his commander. Bastian might be reasonable—well, at least most of the time—but fact was fact. B didn’t tolerate ineptitude, never mind idiocy. His commander appreciated neat and enjoyed tidy.
Especially when it came to protecting females.
So… yeah. No time like the present to put his ass in gear. The sooner Wick handed her over, the better it would be for—
“Venom.” The deep voice thumped the inside of his skull.
As the vicious vibe played ping-pong between his temples, Venom sighed. Great. Just perfect. Exactly what he didn’t need. “Yeah, B?”
“What’s taking so long?”
His gaze cut to the couple intertwined a few feet away. “Got a bit of a situation.”
“Well, figure it out,” Bastian said, impatience in his tone. “My female’s wearing the soles of her shoes thin in here, begging me to open the portal. No way I’m doing that until I know it’s kosher out there.”