Free Every Other Day by Jennifer Lynn Barnes Page A

snakes, and birds of prey. The human brain was wired to fear them, and dragons— talons, scales, slit pupils —sent that system into overdrive. I knew what was happening, but that didn’t keep me from feeling it, and the fear—such a little, stupid word—reminded me that I was human.
    That I was nothing.
    That I was screwed.
    My hold on the makeshift blades in my hands tightened, and I saw the moments leading up to this one, shattered and interlocked, like shards of glass. From the second I’d stepped onto the ice, I’d known that something wasn’t right. The thing inside me had known, too. Even now, the parasite slurping down my blood was telling me to get out, its voice low and silky, like it belonged to someone who was used to being obeyed.
    Run. Now.
    Why? I replied, taking a single step forward and drawing the dragon’s attention from Bethany to me. Afraid something might happen to your all-you-can-eat buffet?
    Don’t—foolish. Can’t—you must— Now !
    I’m sorry , I thought, sizing up the dragon and running through my very limited options. I’m afraid this is a bad connection. I can’t quite make out what you’re saying. Oh well.
    The monster opposite me leapt into the air and crashed back down onto the ice. Cracks ricocheted across the surface, and I took another step forward.
    Objectively, I knew I was powerless, but I couldn’t shake the memory of what it was like to be a hunter, couldn’t rid my body—my fragile, human body—of the sense that it knew exactly what to do. Rationally, I knew better, knew that I should turn tail and run, but I couldn’t—not with Bethany scrambling across the ice, close enough that the dragon could bisect her with a single slice of its talons. Not with Skylar beside me, her mouth frozen in a perfect, rounded O.
    “When I move,” I said softly, my voice nearly lost under the sound of the dragon’s equine snorts, “back away slowly. Don’t look it in the eye. Don’t draw its attention. You just get outside, and then you run.”
    Skylar nodded almost imperceptibly, but it was enough that the dragon’s liquid gaze switched from my form to hers.
    I had to act fast.
    “Hey, Ugly! Eyes on me.” I moved sideways across the ice, and the dragon whirled to follow, its mammoth tail taking out the side of the rink. Debris scattered like shrapnel, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Skylar backing away and prayed that Bethany had the sense to do the same.
    “That’s right, Godzilla. I’m the threat here. Me .”
    My target reared up on its back legs, and I prepared myself for the aftershock when it slammed back down onto the ice. Smoke poured from its nostrils, and I filed that information away as calmly and rationally as I could. There were several subspecies of dragons. Some were harmless. Some ate people. Some breathed fire.
    None of them were native to the area.
    Based on the smoke, I was going to go out on a limb and guess this was a fire-breather. Not ideal, but on the bright side, at least I didn’t have to worry about being eaten alive.
    “Don’t worry—I called Preternatural Control!” The boy who’d given us our skates was either very brave or very stupid. Given that he didn’t seem to have armed himself with so much as a fire extinguisher, I was guessing the latter. “They should be here any sec—”
    Without warning, the dragon turned its pursuit from me, and its gleaming teeth closed around the boy’s middle. One second the boy was there, and the next, he was splatter.
    I flinched—and hated myself for flinching, almost as much as I hated myself for not saving the boy.
    It looks like we’re dealing with Draco carnus, I thought, desperately clinging to the cold, hard facts and trying so hard not to care. A man-eater .
    Dully, I told myself that at least I didn’t have to worry about it breathing fire. Dragons were one or the other, not both.
    Or so modern science would have had me believe.
    I heard the flames before I saw them, and for a