Mac didn’t slow. Frustration twisted his gut into a giant knot.
Reaching deep, Mac gathered his magic. Halogen bulbs sparked, electricity popping like popcorn before the light sputtered, flickering back on. His eyes on the portal, Mac watched the wall waver, shifting from milky white to clear air, opening into the cavern beyond the stone barrier.
Mac wanted to howl in satisfaction. He sped up instead, roaring through the archway into the LZ. The pungent smell of musty air and damp earth hit him. The roar of water echoed, rushing in from the tunnel mouth, bouncing off the uneven stone walls as light globes bobbed seventy-five feet above his head. Ignoring the crop of stalagmites, Mac sprinted for the edge of the LZ.
“Well done, lad,” Forge said.
“Stop patronizing him, Scot.” Wick’s growled reply came over his shoulder like a softball pitch, floating on the thick air with deadly intent. Then again, that was Wick’s MO. The guy never said much, but when he did, he meant every word. “Leave him the fuck alone.”
Mac blinked. Jesus. What was that all about? Wick never defended anyone. Black Diamond’s resident sociopath was a stone-cold killer: quiet, lethal, packing a helluva lot of vicious while he decimated Razorbacks. So his support...the fact he was ready to back Mac up? More than a little surprising.
Still running, Mac glanced over his shoulder. As he made eye contact with Wick, he murmured, “Thanks, man.”
Golden gaze narrowed on him, Wick snarled, “Don’t fuck it up.”
Well, all right then. Back to normal on the antisocial front.
Mac nodded anyway.
Fucking up
, after all, wasn’t part of his game plan. Not with Tania in trouble and the rest of the Nightfuries watching his every move.
Not wasting a second, Mac skidded around the beat-up Honda—the one Myst had arrived in after Bastian airlifted her off the road and brought her to Black Diamond. Not that he cared where the battered hatchback came from at the moment. The wreckage was the least of his problems. He needed to get airborne...right now.
Sure Wick might be on board, but the other warriors? Shit. They were playing for keeps, hauling ass across the LZ in fighting formation, acting like heat-seeking missiles instead of males. Mac snarled, struggling to get into position. His night vision sparked. It wouldn’t be long now. He could feel the sun sinking below the horizon. A few more seconds and—
Halfway across the LZ, Mac shifted into dragon form: hands and feet turning to talons, body lengthening under his bladed spine, muscle, skin, and bone stretching beneath smooth blue-gray scales. His razor-sharp claws scraped granite. The lethal sound bounced in the vast space, sending a warning as sensation swirled around the horns on his head. With a growl, Mac spun to face his comrades and crouched low, the swing of his daggerlike tail slicing through thick, musty air.
His body language spoke volumes. No way was he going back inside.
The other Nightfuries put the brakes on, sliding to a stop on the uneven granite floor.
“Frigging hell.” Ruby-red eyes shimmering, Venom retreated, granite crunching beneath his shitkickers. “Rikar, pull your head out of your ass and do something, man. Ice him up before he—”
The tips of his claws shrieked against stone as Mac unfurled his wings. Time to get airborne.
“Ah, hell,” Venom growled. “Now we’re in deep shit.”
“Relax, Ven.” Rikar jogged around the car’s back bumper. He came in tight. Mac let him, wondering what the hell his XO was doing. Raising his fist, Rikar thumped him on the chest, rattling his scales. “It’s all good.”
B echoed the thought. “Let’s go.”
Mac’s brows popped skyward.
Riding a shitload of pissy, Venom threw their commander an incredulous look.
“It’s under control.” Green eyes aglow, Bastian smiled at Venom.
“Control? Screw that.” Venom pointed at Mac. “Does Boy Wonder look like he’s in
control
to you?”
“Fuck off,