It doesn’t matter. They know we’re here.
“Move.” I press a hand to Cassandra’s back, urging her and the group to pick up their pace. There’s no time to rescue others now. We’ll have to do with the ones we managed.
Tristan races ahead. Oreo passes him, and the two are about to take a turn when a man in all black appears, gun unholstered, a glower on his face.
“Here!” he cries out before I can do anything else.
Adrenaline shoots through my veins, fire burning in the pit of my stomach. They know. I can hear the thunder of steps, ever closer. Cassandra’s jaw clenches and I clench mine with her. There is no time. I have to protect her.
Oreo pounces on the guard. His paws burn red, the scent of burning sulfur growing insufferable as he jumps and attacks, jaws closing around the man’s arm. The man screams, more in surprise than pain, then swings his arm. Oreo doesn’t let go. The puppy grows furious, more rage in that bite than I thought would fit in his small body.
Another black-dressed person shows up, this time a woman with a shaved head, and shock crosses her face for the briefest of moments. She raises a gun, an object unlike any weapon I’ve ever seen, something that makes me shiver. The Collector has contacts and access and power. I have no idea what sort of weapons he can purchase to defend hisbelongings.
Tristan moves faster than the guard expects, faster than I would expect of someone his size and his weight. He shoves an angled punched at the guard with Oreo, and it almost misses. Tristan’s so strong even the nearly miss hits hard. The crack of of knuckles meeting jawbone makes me wince in sympathy. The guard stumbles one, two steps, then drops like a fell tree.
Oreo doesn’t miss a beat. He jumps from the fallen guard to the newcomer, latching at her pants leg. It’s Ren who does the real injury, though. He jumps high, and his maw is so huge her head disappears between his teeth.
I know she’s going to shoot him, and I don’t know what’s in those bullets, so I focus on my speed and the armor of my dragon skin, and race around the group, going for her weapon with both my hands. The metal sizzles my palm, pain shooting up my nerves. I let go of the weapon, hissing between my teeth.
“What?” Donatello cries out as he joins me. Cassandra has enormous eyes on her face, gaze shooting up and down the corridor, following the surrounding voices, coming ever closer.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “It burns like hell.”
He doesn’t hear me. He bends on the waist and goes for the gun. I don’t bother telling him the Collector wouldn’t be stupid enough to have a gun that would only hurt dragon shifters. We are not his only enemies. Every species out there hates him, anyone who he ever offended, injured, killed. Donatello picks the weapon up. His arm tenses, he hisses, and drops the gun. “Merda!”
“As I said.”
He glares at the gun, still not hearing me. “Strange weapon. It must be uniquely spelled to each guard.”
I shrug, turning to the corridor. “As expected of the Collector. Be ready. More are coming our way.”
Moving forward is slow. Torturous. More guards join. We fight. I snap a couple of necks. Ren’s fur is blood-covered, and it’s not his. Tristan gets shot, twice, but the bullets either ricochet from his hard muscles, or they sink into his skin briefly before dropping to the ground like innocent pellets.
The guards coming our way improve in number and skill. One comes so focused on Donatello, a pistol in hand, I just know he’s got a verbena bullet. I move before the vampire can react. My nails elongate into claws and I go straight for the neck. Ren joins. I trust this group enough to give them my back and fight the others coming our way. Physical fights, coming at me with rapid punches and high kicks. I grow out of breath. A vampire shows up, one full of arrogance, but he’s young and less skilled than Donatello, and he goes down soon enough.
“This won’t end,” I tell Donatello, his back touching mine as we fight a small group of guards. His breath comes out in quick gasps, and I hate to admit I’m not much better. “I don’t know how many guards he has, but the sheer number is...”
“I know,” Tristan roars back, a few feet from us. There’s fear on his face, but he keeps moving, punching and kicking, putting guards down one after the other. “I know.”
And even if he knows, it doesn’t change a thing. It doesn’t change we might be overwhelmed. It doesn’t change how this might be too much for us. Even with the ones we rescued fighting with us, even with them battling with all their might. They’re still underfed, tired, and the guards have weapons made to put us down.
With a desperate sigh, I look over my shoulder, searching for Cassandra. She’s not near Donatello. Not near Tristan or Ren. I look for Oreo and find him chewing on a guard’s leg, hard enough to bother the man. But she’s not there either.
My stomach plummets. “Where is she?” I voice, certain they’ll know who I’m referring to.
The last guard goes down — or the last guard of the most recent wave of enemies — and the others look around, searching for her. Even Donatello’s looking for her, and he didn’t hear my question. We keep searching for Cassandra, but she’s nowhere around us, and I can’t hear her nearby.
“Merda,” the vampire hisses, just as more guards show up. Some time in the middle of the fight, she took to the shadows and disappeared. She took advantage of the mess we’re in to sneak away from us. Not away, back to safety, but ahead.
I can feel it in my bones. She’s gone ahead to face the Collector.
Alone.
CHAPTER29
CASSANDRA
The shadows embrace me, and with the distraction of the fight, it’s easy to slip away unnoticed. I stick to the corner of the cages, to the places where it’s simple to make the shadows darker. With my heart squeezing inside my chest, I run away from my mates. I leave them behind to keep them safe.