Zombie mercenaries stumbled forward, and Mathaal turned them into living torches with his ShadowFlame breath. The house caught fire, and no amount of wind was going to extinguish those midnight flames. The added insulation the workers had added might stand up against a normal blaze, at least for a little while, but not something as diabolical as Mathaal’s penultimate Exhalant. It was like the very shadows were burning.

  “Magica Defensio!” Using his mind, Mathaal ripped out a wall, now dripping purple fire, and smashed it into the orange female. Wow, instead of a shield, he’d used some kind of telekinetic ability. Why hadn’t Old Matchstick used it on Steven during the fight on the island? He’d probably forgotten he could ...

  A smoldering two-by-four, controlled by Mathaal, skewered the orange dragon through her heart. She went down, thrashing. More Animus spun into Old Matchstick. The crotchety old bastard seemed to revive by the second. He opened his mouth and let out a lightning storm that arced from dragon to dragon to dragon. It was the AOE attack Judith had used against Steven and his friends.

  The Dragonsouls shuddered and danced in midair. A few blackened, not able to withstand the electrical attack.

  With the enemy dragons held at bay for a moment, Mathaal turned on Steven’s friends. He whipped out his tail and struck Liam directly in the face. The Ronin went down, head over heels into the high grasses nearby. At this point, Old Matchstick was out to destroy anything near him, friend and foe alike. He’d become a senile berserker with almost infinite power.

  Aria and Mouse stumbled away into the sagebrush, heading north and escaping Mathaal’s rage.

  Good thing they did. Not a second later, terrible sound—part silence, part murmur, part growl—rolled through the air. A whomp followed, and the thunder of Mathaal’s ChromaticFury lit up the twilight like a second sun. Several dragons caught in the blast went from being iced down to being gassed to being electrocuted, until a final roaring fire ended them, burning them to ash.

  Mulk reeled away. The Terror Trio backed up along with him, heading for the south part of the house, the driveway, and the highway. Steven did another circle and then flew toward them. This was it. The final battle.

  Tessa stirred in his arms, finally coming around. She wasn’t at one hundred percent, but her eyes were open, and she seemed to be ready to throw down.

  “Holy crap,” she said, fishing the remaining Colt from the holster riding her hip. “I can’t believe it really worked.” She glanced from Mathaal to Steven, then offered him a tired grin. “We might just do this yet.”

  Steven smiled back, fierce and proud. “Thanks to you. Now let’s go put down Mulk like the rabid wolf he is.” He dove and gently set Tessa down near smoldering remains of the house, though far away from the still raging Mathaal, then took to the skies once more.

  Below him, Aria glided awkwardly over the house. One of her wings was ragged, the leather folds tattered, but she was still, miraculously, airborne. And she had Mouse clutched firmly in her claws. For some reason, the blonde was now human, very naked, and had the Slayer Blade on her back.

  Mulk and his Terror Trio stopped in the field between the driveway and the highway. They looked ready to make their final stand.

  Aria swooped low then opened her mouth, unleashing a blast of lightning at Mulk.

  Gideon cast a shield spell to block the lightning. The leftovers of Aria’s spell crackled around him, filling the air with the sharp reek of ozone. “Magica Incanto!” The filthy Magician raised his skinny arms. Blood gushed from his nose, dripping onto his stained tank top.

  A forest of enormous rocky spears erupted from the earth, accompanied by a crash of thunder. One of the jagged, earthen javelins smacked into Aria, tearing through her remaining good wing. With a roar of pain, she dropped Mouse and went spiraling down into the ground. Kai Charon sped toward her, ready to make the kill. His katana glowed green in the fading light.

  “Aria!” Tessa shrieked, sprinting toward the downed Dragonsoul, pistol drawn. But then Karlos Butcher’s big boar body slammed into her, and the barista was trampled underfoot. And just like that—in a single eyeblink—she was bleeding, broken mess. Aria and Tessa were out of the fight, as was Liam. They might be dead. Steven’s heart fluttered, fear pressing down on him like a weight.

  But that fear quickly turned to rage. An uncontrollable force he simply couldn’t contain. He let out a cry of pure fury and hurled himself at Mulk, who’d stopped retreating and stood behind his Terror Trio. But then another slab of stone ripped upward, and Steven hit it, face-first, and he went tumbling to land on the ground, right under Mulk.

  He turned to see Mouse walking toward their enemies, and she’d never looked more beautiful or deadly. She seemed like an ancient goddess of war coming to exact revenge for being wronged.

  Mulk laughed. Sizzling-hot spit leaked from his mouth and hit the ground. Dry grasses burst into flames from the heat of his saliva. “You picked the wrong side, Melissa.”

  “I’m Mouse,” the blonde said. “And I bite.”

  In one smooth motion she reached back, drew the Slayer Sword, and hurled the broadsword into the guts of Gideon Scaramanga.

  “Magica Cu—” Mulk tried to say, but Steven sprang to his feet and slammed a scaled fist into the blue dragon’s face. All of Steven’s outrage and determination to win was in that one punch.

  Mulk’s healing spell was spoiled. Ha, and that bastard said he thought spells were beneath him.

  Rhaegen Mulk staggered back. Gore poured from his mouth, extinguishing the flames in his throat. The whites of his eyes turned into a scarlet network of busted blood vessels.

  In that moment, Steven knew they were going to win.

  ۞۞۞

  Tessa sat up using muscles she didn’t know she had. Steven had healed her—which had lasted all of about two seconds. Sometimes she really hated how fragile she was as a human. One leg was clearly broken. Hell, both legs felt like they’d been hit with sledgehammers. Her right arm was out of action, her elbow a swollen, smashed mess. Every nerve ending cried out for mercy. The pain was hideous, and yet Tessa had watched her little brother fight his body every day of his life. From the minute he woke up to the minute he went to bed, Jared pushed himself. Any other kid would’ve given up long ago.

  Tessa was wrecked, sure, and would probably die, but like her little brother, she was a fighter, and as long as she had breath, she had battle within her.

  Mulk and Steven exchanged blows on the other side of the rocky spears Gideon had summoned from the earth.

  Speaking of the Magician, he was trying to yank the sword out of his stomach before he lost consciousness. But by the color of his skin, he wasn’t going to win that race. Tessa put that son of a bitch’s head in her sights and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in her left hand, the muzzle vomiting out a pink flash of light. His skull melted in the satisfying thunder of her perfect shot.

  Terror Trio? Yeah, fuck that. It was the Douchebag Duo now.

  Animus filled her, and yet her body remained broken.

  “She lives,” Karlos Butcher’s voice whispered behind her.

  She turned and fell down onto her right side, managing to land so that her right arm was in front of her. More pain knifed through her, and she struggled to stay out of its grasping tendrils. A new batch of adrenaline flooded her system as a gargantuan anaconda slithered toward her along with a dozen shambling burning dead men. The sweet smell of their cooking flesh filled Tessa’s nose. But that wasn’t normal flame eating them, that was ShadowFlame, and it gave the walking corpses a ghastly spectral glow.

  How were they still walking? Their summoner was dead. She figured that the zombies would continue to fight until the duration of the spell ended. Powerful magic. Good thing Gideon Scaramanga was gone.

  On her side, she fired and missed. Her hand was jiggling, and her vision was closing in again. The anaconda appeared in an ever-shrinking tunnel of darkness. Four bullets left. She fired twice more. Streaks of pink flashed long lines on either side of the snake’s head. Two misses. She was down to two bullets.

  Butcher slithered up to her and took her broken legs into his mouth, which was his mistake. He was fast. Tessa was faster. She stuck her pistol between Butcher’s eyes and pulled the trigger.

  He wasn’t going to heal a bullet to his brain.

  And yet Tessa was nearly done for. She collapsed onto her back. Was she still holding the Colt? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything.

  A corpse with a blackened face leered down at her. She noticed that his teeth were very white surrounded by the crispy-charred skin.

  ۞۞۞

  Steven blocked a slashing claw from ripping out his eyes. Mulk had gone all in, and the two were battling on the ground like starving dogs brawling over a soup bone.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the zombies converging on Tessa. She’d been firing her Colt, but now it was silenced.

  Aria lay in her human form, unconscious. Kai Charon was going in for the kill. But before the purple-suited bastard could sweep his katana into her, Mouse, back to being a dragon, hit him with her ElectroArc. He dodged most of it. That Warling was fast and lethal. Mouse took to the air to avoid his pistol shots, but she soon came around again for another attack.

  Kai Charon fired three times with his Glock. And Mouse was hit, three times. She tumbled out of the sky. Steven’s heart lurched once more. If he didn’t end this fast, his whole Escort was going to perish, and that? That he couldn’t allow.

  Steven caught Mulk’s right talon, then his left, and they were face-to-face, glaring into each other’s eyes. Both were on their hind legs, their front arms locked. Mulk flapped his wings, trying to knock Steven off balance. If he went down, Mulk would kill him. Steven beat his own wings, staying upright, but this Dragonsoul was strong and powerful, at the height of his powers.

  Steven couldn’t beat him in a straight-up fight. He had to end the battle, but how?

  “Your father begged for mercy,” Mulk hissed. “He wept like a child. Are you going to cry like your daddy, boy? Are you going to beg me for your life?”

  Those words got into Steven’s head. How could he win against an enemy that had killed his father? How could he beat a Dragonsoul Prime at least a hundred years old? Probably much older. Steven grimaced. He was losing ground. Mulk was going to put him on his back and rip out his throat.

  And still the blue dragon taunted him. “When I’m done with you, I’m going to own your Escort, what’s left of them. I will make them know pain. I will humiliate them in every way imaginable.”

  Mulk couldn’t rape them, that would kill him because of the Animus involved. But there were other things he could do to Tessa, Aria, and Mouse.

  The very thought of the women he loved being hurt put fresh power into Steven. No, this was his time to avenge his father and protect his Escort. This was his chance to win the Great Plains Primacy.

  He thought of Mouse’s lesson, something her father had told her during their fencing lessons.

  Opening yourself up for an attack can invite death, but it can also bring victory.

  And that was the key. Steven didn’t have enough Animus for much, but he did have enough for one last gambit.

  He dropped his claws suddenly, so suddenly that Mulk didn’t come for him right away. It was the last thing the Dragonsoul Prime expected. In that split second, Steven reached and grabbed Mulk’s head, leaving himself open.

  Mulk ripped into his chest and stomach with his razor-sharp claws. The pain sparkled in Steven’s brain.

  Steven inhaled deeply. If he couldn’t manage an Inferno Exhalant, he’d die.

  But Liam’s teachings and the lessons from the second volume had taught him what he needed to know.

  Breathing fire meant breathing in life and exhaling death.

  Steven pried open Mulk’s jaws, even while the other Dragonsoul savaged his chest. Mulk’s mouth was pink, his tongue red, his fangs white. Steven focused on the back of his enemy’s throat.

  And he unleashed a wind of fire right down Mulk’s gullet. This time, there wasn’t smoke, only wicked flames.

  That Inferno fried Mulk’s mouth and kept on going, down his esophagus, into his belly, and right out the back of Mulk’s body.

  Rhaegen Mulk’s eyes went wide. Then they rolled back in their sockets.

  Steven kept on breathing until every ounce of oxygen was out of his lungs. He stepped back.

  And his father’s killer slumped to the side. His insides had been flash-fried, and there was no coming back from that, not with his Magician dead on the ground.

  The Animus that filled Steven was so sweet, so wonderful, that Steven had to fight back tears. He’d done it. He’d won.

  However, he couldn’t celebrate yet. Danger still haunted the battlefield. Smoke and fire boiled out of the doomed house, and what remained of the zombies were converging on Tessa.

  Steven was leaking blood as he took to the wing, and in midair, he whirled, striking the walking dead away from Tessa. They stumbled back. Steven landed, and with a series of strikes, he beheaded the corpses. He burned his hands doing it, thanks to the ShadowFlame clinging to their undead bodies, but that was a small price to pay.

  “Enough!” Kai Charon called out.

  He alone stood, holding Aria to him. She was bloodied and weary, but she was conscious. Barely. The Warling had sheathed his sword. He held his pistol to Aria’s temple.

  “I’m leaving,” he said. “It is very clear you have won. All I want is my life. If you let me go, I will not kill her. Do we have a deal?”

  Steven grinned, showing the Warling his fangs. “No. You will die. If you kill her, you will die slow. If you drop her, I will end your miserable life as quickly as I can.”

  Aria swung an elbow back, right into Kai Charon’s breadbasket. He stumbled back while Aria dropped to the ground.

  From behind Steven came the thunder of a single pistol shot. A flash of pink whooshed by Steven and opened a hole in the Warling’s forehead. Right between his eyes. He blinked, shocked to find himself dead, and then he too fell, the last of Mulk’s vassals defeated.

  Steven returned to his human form, clutching the wounds on his stomach and chest. Damn, but Mulk had gashed him good.

  With bloody hands and weakened legs, he stumbled to Tessa, who lay on her back, half of her body still stuffed into the giant anaconda’s mouth. Steven dropped to his knees beside her. “Magica Cura,” he whispered, tracing one hand along her cheek. The Animus from Mulk left him as he healed as much of Tessa’s broken body as he could. Her right elbow went from a purple knot back to normal. Some of the gashes on her face closed over.

  Tessa blinked. “Right back at you, my Prime. Magica Cura.”

  They traded healing spells until both could walk. They then used the last of their magic to help Aria and Mouse back to their feet. All were still wounded. It was going to take a lot of rest and spells to get them well.

  The four walked around the burning house to the garden.

  Mathaal blinked. The ancient dragon, glowing white, stood in the middle of over a dozen dragon corpses. Some had turned back human, but most lay dead in their True Forms. It seemed that death sometimes altered the bodies of Dragonsouls, and sometimes it didn’t.

  When Old Matchstick saw Steven, he growled and opened his mouth to unleash more hell on them.

  Tessa let out a weepy sigh. “Uh, I’d like to get off the roller coaster now. It’s been fun and all, but I’m kinda done.”

  It seemed their war wasn’t over yet. Not quite.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The sun was gone. Stars twinkled in the warm night sky, but a wind was bringing in bright white clouds from the west. The only light was from the fire burning down the Double-Circle Ranch. The air was heavy with the scent of the fire and the blood of the dead. The various odors of the dead Dragonsouls dissipated fast.

  “Mathaal, it’s me, Steven Drokharis.” Steven waved his arms. “Rhaegen Mulk is dead. We have our revenge, my friend. We don’t need to fight.”

  The old dragon closed his mouth and glanced around, blinking slowly. “Stefan, you are young. Have I gone back in time? I don’t know … I don’t know these dragons I slew. Were they friends? Have I done something horrible again?”

  Steven smiled. “No, they were our enemies.”

  “Most of them,” Mouse murmured. She left them to go to Liam Strider, who lay unconscious on the ground. He was back to being a yellow-haired human with a long blond beard, which was matted with blood from getting smacked in the face by Old Matchstick’s tail. Still, he was clearly alive, which was a tremendous relief.

  Mathaal blinked and great tears dropped from his purple eyes. The cataracts were gone, but his mind was still uncertain. “Steven Drokharis, the last scion of that great family. You came to me, in my prison. I remember. You weren’t alone. There was a fight. You took back the book that I told Stefan I would guard with my life. Your father, who showed me such kindness.” The ancient dragon glanced at Tessa and Aria. “Your Escort is very beautiful. You are lucky. Even the ape isn’t too disgusting.”

  Tessa laughed. It sounded so good, ringing out. “Well, Steven, if you ever have any doubts about me, you can always remember that I’m not too disgusting.”

  Steven squeezed her hand. He left her to approach the great white Dragonsoul. “I’m sorry for pulling you into the fight. But we needed you. You saved us.”

  “I … saved … you.” More tears leaked out of Mathaal’s eyes to splash on the ground. “I still have some use after all, it seems. Thank you, Steven, for the great honor of helping you. You will do great things. I can see that.” He paused. “Where is Uchiko? Where are the Onari Guard? Are they here?”

  “No, they are back on the island,” Steven said.

  “I would return,” Mathaal whispered. “It is my prison, but oddly enough, it has become my home. Do I have your leave to return there?”