He stopped short as two shadows, big ones, stepped out of the loading bay at the alley’s dead end. There were footsteps behind him, too, and Julius glanced over his shoulder to see three more men had moved to block off the street, trapping him and Marci in the middle. Since this part of the Underground wasn’t covered in neon, the light in the alley was awful, but even stuck in human form, Julius’s eyes were sharp. He could clearly see the lumpy shapes of guns tucked inside the men’s dark jackets. He was trying to decide what to do about that when Marci yanked out of his grasp.
When he snapped his head around to see why, she was shaking herself like a dog. When she stopped, the glassy look was gone from her eyes, and she stepped into what would have been a fighting stance if she’d had a weapon in her raised hands. “Don’t worry, Julius,” she said softly. “I got this. Just stay back. I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me?” he said just as one of the men blocking off their exit raised his voice.
“Don’t even think about it, Novalli!” the big stranger bellowed, the words bouncing like buckshot down the alley. “You can’t blast all of us and you know it. So be a good girl and come quietly and we won’t hurt your boyfriend there. Mr. Bixby wants a word with you.”
Marci’s whole body went stiff at the name Bibxy, but she didn’t drop her hands. If anything, she looked more deadly than before, even with the trickle of blood that had now worked its way down from her ear to stain the white collar of her shirt. But while Julius knew she was a mage and absolutely not to be underestimated, she was also human. Human and hurt, facing down five armed men, all of whom had a good six inches and at least a hundred pounds on her, and she was doing it to protect him.
That thought did something to Julius’s insides. It twisted him over, rearranging priorities he’d thought long settled. The cautious thing, the right thing, would be to step back and let her do as she liked. After all, said a voice that sounded very much like his mother’s, she was only human. Why should he risk himself for a mortal? Especially here, in the Lady of the Lakes’ territory where any slip-up would bring Chelsie’s wrath down on his head, or worse, the Lady’s down on his mother. That was a situation Bethesda would find deathly inconvenient. Julius’s death, specifically.
That horrifying thought should have settled everything. For almost all the years he could remember, Julius’s survival strategy had revolved around avoiding situations that would give his mother a reason to kill him. Now though, he didn’t want to stay out of the way. Maybe getting kicked out of home had fatally skewed his better judgment, or maybe he’d finally hit his limit for belly-crawling to creatures more powerful than himself, but when Julius looked down the alley, he didn’t see an inconvenience for his family. He saw big, thuggish, idiot humans threatening Marci, the person who’d shown him more kindness, compassion, and help in the last hour than he’d experienced in twenty-four years of life. Marci, whom he’d already started thinking of as his ally, maybe even his friend.
It was a terrible excuse. Friendship was as undraconic as generosity. But then, as everyone liked to remind him, Julius never had been much of a dragon. And that was funny, because when he clenched his fists and stepped up to stand beside Marci, Julius felt more draconic than he had in a long, long time.
“Can you handle the two behind us?”
Marci jumped at his whisper so close to her ear. “I’m pretty sure,” she whispered back. “Why do you—”
Julius was gone before she finished. His true form was sealed and he was woefully out of practice, but it didn’t matter. He was a dragon, they were human, and that was enough. Before the three men at the end of the alley even realized he was gone, Julius was behind them with his hand on the crown of the biggest human’s skull.
With surprise on his side, one push was all it took to slam the thug’s face into the street. The big man went down like a tree, and Julius paused just long enough to kick the gun out of his hand before turning on the remaining two.
He’d fully expected to find them gawking, or maybe fleeing in terror, but these men were clearly professionals. By the time he turned, they’d recovered enough to swing their guns back toward him. But Julius was getting back in the swing of things now himself, and he hadn’t lived this long as the smallest dragon in his clan by being slow.
The men had barely raised their weapons before he was in front of them. He dropped down at once, sweeping the first man’s legs out from under him with a fast kick that sent the large human sprawling backward, slamming the back of his skull against the street with an extremely satisfying crunch. Julius didn’t wait to see if the man would recover. He was already closing in on the lone survivor.
By this point, the last man standing had actually managed to get his gun up and aimed at Julius’s chest, but the shock of Julius’s inhuman speed seemed to have made him forget how to use it. Normally, this sort of fear-induced paralysis would have been enough to make Julius stop. Unlike the rest of his siblings, he didn’t enjoy scaring people. This time, though, stopping didn’t even cross his mind. This man needed to be scared almost as much as Julius needed to be scary. After years of being labeled a failure because he refused to participate in the cruel, cutthroat power games that absorbed the rest of his family, it felt amazingly good, right even, to finally be a dragon in someone’s eyes. Especially since he was doing it to save a friend, rather than crush an enemy.
He approached slowly, giving the long-buried animal part of the man’s brain time understand that he was facing an apex predator. The more the man shook, the slower Julius went, using the steady crunch of his footsteps like a hammer to drive the fear deeper until the thug was trembling so badly he fumbled his weapon. Only then, when the man had lost his gun and looked ready to lose his lunch as well, did Julius finally grab him.
The thug screamed, fighting like a cornered animal. But strong as fear had made him, it still wasn’t strong enough. With a sharp-toothed smile, Julius lifted the frantic man up by his collar and flung him into the wall across the alley. The man bounced from the impact and fell flat on his face, and though he was still breathing, he made no move to get up again. When Julius was sure he’d stay that way, he turned to check on Marci only to find her standing exactly where he’d left her.
That couldn’t be right. He’d ended his fight fast, true, but not that fast. She should have moved at least a little. But then he saw the men he’d left to her at the far end of the alley, and everything became clear.
When he’d last seen them, the two men had been standing with their guns drawn. Now, they were both down on their knees, grabbing at their necks like they were trying to pull something off. Marci, meanwhile, was standing with her arm thrust out, holding something in her outstretched fist that was glowing like a floodlight. As Julius got closer, though, he saw it wasn’t actually in her fist, but on it. The glowing object was one of her bracelets, a chunky, pink plastic ring he hadn’t paid much attention to before. Now it was lit up, though, Julius could clearly see the tight lines of spellwork on the inside of the inch-wide band pulsing like a heartbeat, and every time they flashed, the men at the end of the alley scrambled harder.
By the time he’d made it back to Marci’s side, both men had fallen over, their faces purple from lack of oxygen. Marci’s own face was red with effort, but her expression was triumphant as she finally released the fist she’d been holding.