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“As I said,” returned Lucas.

Journey followed him at a distance as he inspected the rubble. He found four masked men unconscious within it and pulled them out, laying them on the grass. He took off their masks, but didn’t recognize any of them. They must be hired criminals.

Lucas heard the tiniest rustle behind him. He spun around. Sunlight gleamed on Duke Constantine’s sword.

Lucas leaped aside. With no time to summon the concentration necessary to shift again, he snatched up a stone and hurled it at his enemy. Duke Constantine ducked. Lucas tensed, uncertain whether to pu

t his body between the duke and Journey, or to try to lure the duke away from her.

But Duke Constantine ignored Journey, though he had to have seen her, and lunged forward. Lucas barely managed to sidestep the strike, then scrambled backward. The duke was obviously planning to kill Lucas first and then go after Journey. He clearly didn’t consider her a threat.

Out of the corner of Lucas’s eye, he saw Journey scrabble in her backpack, then pull out a blanket. Lucas tried not to look at her lest he tip off the duke. He guessed that she’d try throwing it over his enemy’s head.

Good idea, Journey, he thought. He could use all the help he could get.

Duke Constantine closed in on him, slicing his sword at Lucas’s head. Lucas was again forced to jump aside. He threw another rock, but the duke dodged it easily.

Journey came up behind him and swung the blanket like a whip. The end caught the duke across the face. Duke Constantine yelped in pain. Taking advantage of his distraction, Lucas lunged forward, caught the duke’s wrist, and twisted it to force him to drop his sword. Before his enemy could recover, Lucas threw him to the ground, drove his knee into the small of his back, and pinned his wrists above his head.

“Good work, Journey,” Lucas called. “Now give me the blanket. I’ll tear it up and bind his wrists.”

“I don’t think you want to touch it,” Journey replied. “It’s where I dumped the dragonsbane.”

Lucas laughed. No wonder the duke hadn’t shifted after Lucas had disarmed him! He tore up Duke Constantine’s own shirt to tie his wrists behind his back.

His prisoner lay in still and furious silence. Lucas was content with that. He had no desire to talk to him. Lucas used the other criminals’ shirts to bind them hand and foot, for they would undoubtedly regain consciousness before the police could arrive.

“Would you like to ride on dragonback again?” Lucas asked Journey.

“Yes, of course.” She beckoned him out of the duke’s earshot and put her arm around him. “You don’t look good. You’re bruised and bleeding and you’re white as paper. And you feel cold. Can you fly?”

The adrenaline high of battle still tingled in his veins, giving him a strength that he knew wouldn’t last long. “I can fly long enough to make it back to the palace. We can’t stay here. I need to get you to safety and him to justice.”

“What about you?”

“I need to get myself to bed. I am very tired.”

Journey grabbed his wrist. “Lucas, you need to get yourself to a hospital. You told me dragonsbane is a poison!”

“I took the antidote.”

“Yeah? And how do you feel now?”

“Not good,” he admitted. “But I cannot have been given a fatal dose, or I would already be dead.”

Lucas knew there was some flaw in his logic that Grand Duke Vaclav would have immediately pounced on, had he been present. But he was having trouble focusing on anything but getting back to the palace, disposing of Duke Constantine, and making his mate less frightened. She had gone so pale that her freckles stood out like drops of blood.

“There are doctors at the palace,” he added belatedly.

That seemed to reassure her a little. “Okay, good. Let’s go to the palace.”

He thought of gold and flight and vengeance, and became a dragon. Journey climbed on his back, and he scooped up the duke in his talons. Then he took flight, barely skimming above the treetops, too tired to climb higher. Lucas didn’t make any special effort to ensure that the highest leaves and twigs smacked Duke Constantine across the face, but he didn’t make any special effort to avoid it, either.

After what felt like hours of weary flying, first the city and then the palace came into view. Lucas landed on the palace roof and dumped the duke unceremoniously to the ground. Then he became a man and yanked his prisoner to his feet.

Lucas marched Duke Constantine down the steps leading into the palace, Journey following beside him. To Lucas’s relief, the duke had apparently decided it was undignified to struggle and didn’t put up a fight.

The adrenaline rush had worn off, leaving Lucas dizzy and exhausted. His throat and chest and belly burned, his bones ached, and he felt chilled and feverish by turns. His heart kept stuttering off-rhythm. Breathing hurt. Swallowing hurt. Everything hurt. All he wanted to do was lie down. He’d feel better once he slept.


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