Zenbaylan woke the moment Oskaal popped into the lair. The dragonet and his friends had been set the task of locating Willersby Lockmehdyhn, and Oskaal’s quiet excitement meant they’d had some success. Zenbaylan eased her head from under her wing and met the dragonet eye to eye, opening her mind so he could show her what she needed to know.
The dragonets didn’t communicate in words, not like her rider or her pet, but the images, thoughts and impressions were as clear as any spoken language. Within moments Zenbaylan had all the relevant information.
Her quarry was fleeing his country estate in one of the mechanical transports that could only be used when there was clear weather. The stormwatchers had predicted cloudless skies, but they weren’t infallible, and ion storms could come on hard and fast. But the coward was frightened enough to run and desperate enough to use an unreliable machine. That decision only confirmed his stupidity and made his imminent death easier to engineer.
None of it bothered Zenbaylan. Now she and her mate had permission to hunt, the mode of transport was irrelevant. It was all about the chase.
Her Enforcers and her pet still slept in her arms, and she nudged Rye awake. Time to go back to your own bed. Fellescend and I are going hunting.
You found him?
Yes. Now go. And be careful with my pet while I’m away.
Affection came through the link, warm and flavored with Rye’s unique scent. You be careful too. And make sure you mess with him bad before you finally kill him.
Zenbaylan snorted. As if she’d do anything else.
It didn’t take long before she and Fellescend were winging their way into the starry darkness, the cool air full of night smells and sounds and the lingering scent of the day’s battle. She stroked smooth and strong, her mate flying tight beside her, and the anticipation sparked bright and hot in her belly. She’d missed the battle today because of her special mission, and she was looking forward to this evening’s activities.
This hunt wasn’t as good as a real battle, but she knew she and Fellescend would make the most of it. She always enjoyed the satisfying crunch and tear of flesh versus dragon, and though four targets seemed paltry, they were better than none. Outwardly she hoped the councilor and his men were up to the challenge, but privately her expectations weren’t high.
Oskaal popped in and out at various intervals during their flight, giving them updates and offering course corrections. Dawn was breaking before he gave the signal that their prey was at hand.
Zenbaylan heard the machine before she saw it. The horrible droning whine of a two-legged creature’s answer to being born wingless. Pitiful. And utterly useless for stealth in the air.
Arching her wings, she swooped up and over, coming down on the machine at a high angle while Fellescend came up from below. They hit the tin can simultaneously, hard and brutal, tipping it onto its side and tearing the canopy from its moorings. The men screamed. Laser shots arced bright and wild into the night, but they were aiming blind.
The dragons maneuvered themselves one on either side of the transport before taking it in their talons. Gripping it tight, they flew high enough to gain fatal altitude. Then they plucked the guards from the tin can one by one and dropped them over the side until only Willersby Lockmehdyhn remained. He cried and begged, offering all kinds of outlandish and improbable deals, none of which were of any use to a battle dragon. Zenbaylan had nothing but scorn for him, hiding behind his guards and allowing himself to be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess on the floor.
She wondered if he’d felt the same kind of scorn for Tansy when she was cowering and crying from his abuse. It seemed the kind of thing a man like him would feel. But Zenbaylan’s pet was a fighter, and she’d acted in her own defense the moment the opportunity had presented itself. It seemed that Willersby Lockmehdyhn was doing the opposite.
Fellescend tore away the walls, seats and furnishings until he could get his claws around their prey. The moment the little man was locked in her mate’s grip, Zenbaylan dropped the transport, allowing it to crash to the earth where it would.
Dropping low and close, she allowed Tansy’s abuser to get a good look at her, to know which dragon it was that would deliver the death blow. Then she dropped away to hover below Fellescend.
When he released Lockmehdyhn, the piercing scream the man let out would have done a grifhawk proud. Just as her prey came hurtling down, Zenbaylan snatched him out of the air, rolling onto her back before righting herself, ensuring her prey received maximum air pressure on his fragile limbs. Zenbaylan powered away, flying long and flat before turning around and racing toward Fellescend at top speed. When she was at absolute maximum, and close enough for him to make the catch, she back-winged hard, released her grip on her prey and let the forward momentum fling him into Fellescend’s waiting claw.
Then it was her mate’s turn to fly away before coming back at a velocity that made Zenbaylan’s heart sing. Fellescend was strong, fast and an excellent partner for this particular game.
They played until the councilor passed out. Then they waited until he revived and played some more. The morning wore on and the sun was high in the sky before Fellescend’s enthusiasm outstripped their prey’s capacity for physical stress.
In the excitement of discovering a new game, he sent a “watch this” thought to Zenbaylan and she dutifully hovered, her eyes fixed firmly on her mate. Fellescend threw the councilor in the air and, in an impressive act of dragon agility, twisted his body and used his heavily muscled tail as a bat. The wet, crunchy sound of bones shattering was immensely satisfying. But when Willersby’s body disintegrated in a splatter of arms, legs and guts, Zenbaylan had to admit to a degree of disappointment. Once he’d stopped sniveling and begging, he’d been rather fun and she’d been hoping they could drag out their play a little longer.
Fellescend flew close and hovered, rubbing snout to snout in dragon apology. Zenbaylan thought about flaming him, just a bit, but her mood was too good to inflict even a minor punishment on her mate. As far as she was concerned, their primary task of avenging their pet had been successfully completed and the fun had just been a bonus.
Rubbing against Fellescend neck to neck to reassure him all was well, she sent him an image of the lake. They needed to bathe before they went home because, while their Enforcers might appreciate the blood and gore, their pet would find it distressing.
In a good mood despite their foreshortened playtime, Zenbaylan and Fellescend swooped, danced and rolled together in the air as they made their way to Sapphire Lake. The sun was out, Zenbaylan’s possessions were tucked safely in their bed in the den, and her mate had a wicked twinkle in his eye.
She heaved a sigh of satisfaction and wallowed in the happiness that was her world.