I fly faster than I’ve ever flown, but he still gets there first.
Well, what’s the point of being a gargoyle if you can’t turn someone into stone every once in a while? Praying this works, I grab on to his wing with one hand and pull on the platinum string deep inside me with the other. He changes instantly…and without the wing design to carry a large dragon made of heavy stone, well, he starts to drop like a stone.
I flip the ball right out of his stone hands and then let go of the platinum string when we’re about twenty feet off the ground.
He changes back to a living dragon instantly, and he is beyond pissed. He hits me with every ounce of fire he’s got, but hey, gargoyle, baby. I don’t feel a thing. So I wave goodbye and then somersault backward—straight into a portal that I did not see coming.
And holy hell! It feels like I’m being pulled apart, my entire body being stretched from end to end like I’m one of those rubber toys you get at arcade games as a kid. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels really strange, and it’s all I can do to hold on to the ball as even my hands start to stretch.
Still, there’s no way I’m coming out of this portal without this ball. No way in hell. So I dig down deep and hold on as tight as I can. That’s when the pain starts—when I resist the stretch—but I don’t care. I am not messing this up, not when we’re so close.
And then, suddenly, the pain is gone and the portal is vomiting me back onto the field. Unlike everyone else, I can’t keep my footing, and I end up rolling straight onto my back like a turtle. But I’ve got the ball. That’s all that matters. Even if it is vibrating so much that my fingers feel like they’re starting to crack.
I roll over, looking for someone to throw the thing to, and Jaxon lands right in front of me with a grin and a wink. I toss him the ball, and then he’s fading away, running full tilt toward the goal…at the other end of the field. Again.
Seriously, these portals completely suck.
I race behind him—well behind him—not sure what else I can do at this point. I won’t be able to fly again for another thirty seconds. But then Cole and the other werewolf start to pass me in wolf form, heading straight for Jaxon. I can’t take down both of them, but I sure as hell can take down one, so I throw myself sideways straight into Cole.
He snarls like a rabid dog, his teeth closing on my hand. But again, stone, so it doesn’t hurt. But for the second time today, he’s not turning loose, so now he’s dragging me like a rag doll down the field by one arm.
Not quite what I was going for with what I hoped would be a heroic save. Not sure what else to do, I reach up with my other hand and pull his tail as hard as I can.
He screams like a pissed-off child, which means he lets go of my hand just long enough for me to yank it away. But he’s furious now and focused completely on me and not the ball. Which seems like it could be a problem.
At least until Xavier swoops in with a snarl—also in wolf form—and backs him down and away from me.
Cole turns and runs straight toward Jaxon like he’s just remembered the ball, but I know the truth and so does Xavier. We saw his face when he ran. He was scared of Xavier, which I’m afraid is going to have ramifications way beyond this game.
But for now, Jaxon is almost to the finish line. Thank God! I don’t think my nerves can handle much more of this.
Before he can get there, though, one of the vampires throws himself right in his path and shoves him back just as his foot is about to cross the goal. Jaxon goes flying and so does the other vampire, both of them spinning out of control through the air.
Jaxon lands on his feet, but he’s cursing, the ball so hot, it’s practically incandescent at this point. He has no other choice but to drop it. Luckily Gwen is close, and she swoops in to pick it up. Then she’s running back toward the goal. One of the dragons is hot on her heels, so she lifts a hand above her head and calls the elements.
A powerful gust of wind swirls through the field, knocking the dragon out of the air and sending him careening into the witch who thought she was sneaking up on Gwen, wand raised.
But then, out of nowhere, the other vamp slams into Gwen. They fly sideways into a portal and are gone for about ten seconds, though it feels like forever as the timer on the side of the game crawls past twenty-seven seconds. Eventually Gwen staggers out a few feet from me, the red-hot comet clutched in her hands. But she’s banged up pretty badly and she’s clutching her ribs.
I’m worried about her, but the ref has her, so—grateful that my flying time-out is over—I race forward, grab the comet, and then fly straight toward the goal line with every ounce of strength and speed I have. Cole is racing along behind me, howling with rage, but I don’t look at him. I don’t look at anyone or anything but the goal line. This is our last shot to win this, and I am not going to screw it up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see both dragons from the other team racing straight for me. I can’t stop them, so I don’t worry about them. I just fly. And right before they overtake me, I reach inside myself and pull on the platinum string again, forcing more of my body to turn to stone, and then I instantly drop fifteen feet straight down from the extra weight. And they collide overhead like an explosion.
But that doesn’t matter, because I’m at the goal line. I release the string and yank on my human golden string, shed the extra weight, then fly straight over the goal and drop to the ground just before my thirty seconds of flight are up.
77
Comet Me, Baby
“We did it!” Flint crows for what has to be the hundredth time since we won the tournament earlier this afternoon. He shoots me an excited grin as he drops a few six-packs of soda on the table in Jaxon’s tower antechamber.
“Damn straight we did!” Xavier echoes, crossing to meet him so the two of them can engage in the typical backslapping and chest-bumping celebration that comes with winning a sporting event. “Cole who?”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Eden agrees from where she’s sitting on the couch, her scuffed purple combat boots propped on Jaxon’s coffee table. “Swear to God, the best part was his face at the end. He couldn’t believe they’d used all the dirty tricks and still lost.”
“Dude. In what universe is a werewolf ever going to beat a dragon?” Flint scoffs.
“Excuse me?” Xavier asks. “What am I?”
“I haven’t figured it out yet, actually,” Flint answers, looking him up and down. “Maybe a weredragon? Or a dragonwolf?”
“Let’s go with wolfdragon,” he tells Flint with a grin.
“I could get behind that,” Eden agrees, making grabby hands at Macy as she rounds the corner from the top of the stairs carrying a truly impressive number of pizza boxes from the cafeteria.
“How’s Gwen?” I ask Macy.
“Her girlfriend texted me, told me they gave her a bunch of painkillers and she’s sleeping in the infirmary right now. But she should be okay in a few days.” She plops the boxes down on Jaxon’s coffee table. “What are we debating now?”
“He’s more dragon than wolf, so dragon should go first,” Flint continues, grabbing a box off the top of the stack…and then keeping it for himself. “I mean, Xavier here’s not a douche, is he?”
“True that,” I say. And since—gargoyle or not—I don’t have the amazing metabolism that comes with the ability to scarf down an entire pizza or three, I grab a much more sedate two pieces out of the communal pepperoni box before settling on the floor at one end of the coffee table.
“Not all wolves are douches,” Xavier answers, right before he also grabs his own personal pizza box. “Just the ones at Katmere.”
“You can say that louder for the people in the back,” Mekhi tells him from his seat next to me.
“Like alpha, like everyone,” Jaxon agrees. “That’s why you should challenge him, Xavier. Once he’s gone, the rest of the wolves will knock all their shit out.”
“Pretty sure our boy already challenged that jackass on the Ludares field today,” Flint answers. “You owned his ass before it was done. He was clucking long before Macy turned him into a chicken.”
“We owned all their asses today,” Eden says right before shoving half a piece of pizza into her mouth. “Every single one.”
“But seriously? Best play of the game has to go to Macy. Not only did she save dear Xavier’s life, but did everyone see Cole’s tiny chicken body plop to the ground and cluck around for what felt like the happiest ten seconds of my life?” Mekhi laughs so hard, there are tears in his eyes. “And close second is when Grace was just flying down the field with Cole hanging off her foot.” He brings his fingers and thumb together to mimic Cole biting me.
“Oh yeah,” I tell him, totally deadpan, as the others crack up. “That was sooo hilarious.”
“Maybe not for you,” Jaxon tells me with the grin that always sets butterflies off in my stomach. “But it was pure gold for the rest of us.”
“I actually really liked it when you turned Seraphina to stone,” Eden tells me. “It was the coolest move I’ve ever seen on a Ludares field.”
“Yeah, it was,” Flint agrees. “And did you see when…”
He keeps talking, while I turn to Jaxon beside me. “Are all dragons such braggarts?” I whisper.
“You haven’t seen anything.” He doesn’t bother to whisper as he rolls his eyes. “Once Flint gets going, it takes hours to wind him back down again.”
“I’m not a cuckoo clock, you know,” Flint tells him, and though he’s wearing that goofy grin of his, there’s a flash of something that looks an awful lot like hurt there, too. “You can’t actually wind me up.”
“It’s not the winding up I’m interested in,” Jaxon responds, and suddenly I feel really awful, as I can’t help thinking about what Flint told me on the field this morning.