For the first time during their flight, her face showed strain. They have crossbows.

Buck up, girly girl. He gave her his machete smile. Things are just getting interesting.

He picked up speed, and true to her boast, she kept pace, her mane of blonde hair flying behind and long gazelle legs flashing. Damn, he was proud of her.

The land broke up ahead of them, a rocky bluff rising along the horizon. They had run perhaps a half mile more when a dozen Dark Fae riders appeared along the top of the bluff.

The riders on the bluff weren’t riding horses.

They were astride Fae creatures that looked like giant dragonflies. Huge, black-veined, transparent wings glimmered with rainbow hues.

Pia slowed and came to a stop when she saw them. Beside her, Dragos did the same. She pressed a hand to her side and turned in a circle. They were trapped.

She sat down on the ground and put her head in her hands. He knelt beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. There wasn’t anything to say.

Once they had stopped running, their pursuers slowed and approached with more caution. The Goblins spread out in a half-circle formation, the Dark Fae riders interspersed among them. The Dark Fae atop the bluff remained where they were, sitting astride the giant dragonfly creatures while they watched the scene unfold below.

Pia shaded her eyes as she stared at them. The third one from the left radiated a chill Power unlike any of the others. She swallowed, trying to relieve her dry throat. “Over there,” she said. “The Fae King is on the bluff, isn’t he?”

Dragos sat behind her and pulled her against his chest. “Yes. He’s waiting to see if he’s needed.”

“Still no shift,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

He shook his head. “I need a little more time.”

He needed time they didn’t have. She turned her face into his sun-warmed skin. His breathing was slow and easy. She marveled at his calm.

She wasn’t calm. She was running around inside her head like a crazy person, her heart still doing the jackrabbit dance. She thought of the beating the Goblins had given her. She thought of Keith and his bookie, both dead. She thought of the switchblade in the pocket of her leggings.

Dragos released her, rose up on his knees and removed the weapons harness. He laid the battle-axe and sword aside. Then he removed the short sword he had buckled at his waist and put it on the ground with the other weapons. He stared at the approaching host, eyes narrowed, as he told her, “Maybe if I don’t fight, I can negotiate with them to let you go.”

“You can’t just surrender,” she said. “They’re going to kill you!”

“Probably not right away.” His expression was all brutality and harsh angles. “If I surrender, it may buy some time. If I can get you away, you could try to get back to my people in New York and tell them what happened. They would keep you safe.”

He meant they might not kill him right away because they would torture him. She felt her bile rise.

She studied the Dark Fae King on the bluff. She had never hated anyone so much, especially someone she hadn’t met before.

He was another of the world’s premiere Powers, one of the oldest of the Elder Races. His knowledge and memory of Earth’s lore and history would be extensive. As Dragos had pointed out, there was no telling what Keith might have blabbed before she stopped him up with the binding spell. And Urien had Elven connections, if not Ferion, then perhaps one of the other Elves who had witnessed her discussion with Ferion and had heard enough to speculate.

“It won’t work anyway,” she said in a flat voice. “They’re not going to let me go.”

He glanced down at her, not bothering to argue. “Then we fight.”

“I won’t be captured,” she told him. She dug into her pocket and withdrew the switchblade. She pressed the lever and the blade snicked open.

Quicker than sight, he grabbed her wrist. His eyes blazed. “The f**k are you doing?” he snapped. “You won’t be captured? Then we fight. We don’t give up.”

She glanced at Goblins and Dark Fae. There were so many of them, they were a small army. They were almost in bow-shot range.

She put a hand over his. “Dragos, this time will you trust me? Will you let me try one more thing and not ask me any questions about it?”

His hand and face were like stone, his body clenched.

She fought a sense of rising panic and kept her voice soft. “Please,” she said. “There isn’t much time.”

His fingers loosened. He let her go. She rose to her knees and faced him. He held still and watched her face as she put the tip of the blade against the white scar at his shoulder. She concentrated on the dark bronze of his bare skin. She bit her lip and tried to make her hand move, but all she did was start to shake. Her grip on the switchblade turned white-knuckled.

“Damn it,” she gritted. “I can’t cut you.”

His hand came over hers again. This time he gave a quick jerk and the blade bit into his skin, right over the scar. Hot, brilliant blood began to flow from the cut. She took a choppy breath and nodded to him. He let go of her again.

The second bit was a lot easier. She drew the blade across her palm. It was a good deep cut. Pain blossomed and her own blood began to drip down her wrist.

The advancing army had crossed into bow-shot range, close enough she could hear the Goblins laugh and call to one another.

Talk about a last-ditch effort. Wish I knew if this would work. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.

“Here goes nothing, big guy,” she muttered. She met his falcon-sharp eyes and slapped her open cut against his.

For a few seconds it seemed nothing happened. Then something flared and flowed out of her, passed through her palm and entered him. His head fell back. He gasped as he swayed on his knees. His Power roared in response.

She swayed, dizzy from the transference. Then Dragos shimmered and expanded so fast she fell on her back.

She struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, staring up openmouthed at the appearance of the enormous dragon who stood over her.

Oh. My. God. She had imagined what he must look like. She had caught that one glimpse of his shadow flowing over the beach. Nothing could have prepared her for the impact of the real thing. He had to be the size of a private jet.

He was varying shades of bronze that had an iridescent glint in the sunshine. His wide, heavy-muscled chest was right overhead. Her head bobbled back and forth as she took in the long legs planted on either side of her. The bronze color darkened to black at the ends of his legs. His feet had curved talons that had to be the length of her forearm. His body narrowed to powerful haunches and long tail.

She stared for a frozen moment at the slit in the sheath of thick bronze hide between his hind legs, covering the region of his genitals. There didn’t appear to be any part of him that was vulnerable.

Massive shadows unfurled across the ground. He had opened his wings and mantled like an eagle.

Her body rediscovered how to move. She scrambled backward on hands and feet, scuttling like a crab.

He arched his long serpentine neck. He tilted down a horned triangular head that was the length of her body so that he could look at her with eyes that were great pools of molten lava. With a sound that sliced the air, he whipped his tail back and forth.

“That’s my long, scaly, reptilian tail. And it’s bigger than anyone else’s,” Dragos said in a voice that was deeper, larger, yet still recognizable as his. One huge eyelid dropped in an unmistakable wink.

She collapsed in hysterical laughter.

“Stay down,” the dragon told her. He lowered his head as he turned to the bluff, a sleek, sinuous behemoth. He bared his teeth in a vicious challenge. “BRING IT ON, YOU SON OF A BITCH.”

One by one the Dark Fae riders rose into the air on their dragonfly steeds. They turned and flew away.

It was impossible to see, but she sensed the predator in him vibrating with the instinct to give chase. He held himself back, though, and she knew why. He wouldn’t leave her unprotected with the Goblin/Fae army so near.

She pushed up on one elbow to stare in the direction of their pursuers. The Goblins and Fae riders had turned away. They were in full retreat.

The sound of ripping soil had her looking back at the dragon. He was digging his talons into the ground as he snarled at their retreat.

“Dragos,” she said. He looked at her. She jerked her head toward the retreating army. “Go.”

He needed no further encouragement. He crouched and sprang into the air. A roar split the sky like a thunderclap. The Goblins began to scream as the killing began. She was ferociously, vindictively glad.

It was not so much a battle as it was extermination. After Dragos’s first spectacular dive and roll when he winged low over their heads and spouted fire, she couldn’t watch anymore. She turned onto her stomach, put her arms over her head and waited for it to be over.

The stink of Goblin was overcome with the smell of oily smoke. It was not long before silence fell over the plain. There was no one left to do a body count. None of their enemies made it off the plain alive.

She nestled her nose deeper in the tall, sweet-smelling grass. The sun was high in the sky. It was warm on her back and shoulders. A quiet rustling in the grass grew closer. A shadow fell over her. Something very light tickled her forearms that covered the back of her head. It whuffled in her hair.

She scratched an arm. “Did you kill the Fae horses?”

The whuffling stopped. Dragos said in a cautious voice, “Was I not supposed to?”

She shrugged. “It just wasn’t their fault.”

“If it helps any, I was hungry and ate one.” Another whuffle.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess that does help some.”

She rolled over. He had stretched out alongside her, his great body between her and the remains of the Goblin/Fae army. His wings, a dramatic sweep of bronze darkening to black at the tips, were folded back. His hide glinted in the sun. She lifted her head and looked in the direction of a few plumes of smoke. His triangular head came down in front of her, golden eyes keen. “You don’t need to look over there,” he said in a gentle voice.

She sat up and leaned against his snout. She laid her cheek against him. Close up, she could see a faint pattern like scales in his hide. She stroked the wide curve of one nostril. It seemed somewhat softer than the rest of him. He held very still, breathing light and shallow.

“What does that feel like?” she asked him.

“It feels good.” He sighed, a great gust of wind, and he seemed to relax. “Thank you for saving my life again, Pia Alessandra Giovanni.” He made the syllables of her human name sound musical.

“Back atcha, big guy,” she whispered.

After a few more moments he withdrew, giving her plenty of time to straighten. She looked up, way up at his long triangular head silhouetted against the afternoon sun. “You have,” he said, “two choices.”

“Choices are good.” She pushed to her feet, all of a sudden feeling tired and achy again. “Choices are better than orders.”

“You can ride,” he told her. “Or I can carry you.”

“Ride? Hot damn.” She shaded her eyes and eyed his enormous bulk. “That might be more excitement than I can deal with right now. I’m not seeing any seat belts up there.”

“You got it.” Giving her plenty of time to adjust, he wrapped the long claws of one foot around her with such precision he didn’t cause so much as a scratch or pinch. When he tilted his foot, she found she had quite a comfortable hollow in which to sit. He lifted her up so that he could look at her. “All right?”

“I’m feeling a little Fay Wray here, but otherwise it’s great,” she told him. “You know, if you weren’t a multibillionaire, you could make a good living as an elevator.”

He snorted a laugh. Then the world fell away as he leaped into the air. Anything else she might have said was lost in the beat of his huge wings, in her earsplitting shriek.

I take it all back, she shouted at him telepathically. She had no breath left from shrieking to try to speak out loud. Forget about producing Valium, or elevator and hairdresser careers. You could be the world’s only living roller coaster. Hey, I bet Six Flags would pay you a fortune.

I see the lunatic inhabiting your body is alive and well, he replied.

He banked and shifted direction as he sensed a passageway back to the human realm. She managed to suck in more breath to shriek again. I’m being serious now—I don’t think I can deal with this!

Tough, he told her. I’m not taking the chance of anything else going wrong. This is a nonstop flight to New York. Thank you for flying Cuelebre Airlines.

“You’re not funny!” she screamed out loud. Dragon laughter filled her head.

She huddled in his unbreakable grip, hands over her eyes. She discovered it wasn’t a smooth, seamless flight but one that had a rhythm from the beat of his wings. She also thought she would be freezing. She was in for another surprise as he kept a velvet blanket of Power wrapped around her. It protected her from the cold altitude and the wind.

She could sense the upswell of magic that marked a passageway back to the human dimension as they approached. She peeked through her fingers. Following a directional sense she didn’t share, he stretched his wings and they glided until they skimmed along just a hundred feet above a small canyon.

Are you able to open your eyes yet? he asked.

She told him, I’m looking.

A lot of passageways to Other lands are like this one. They’re couched in some kind of break in the physical landscape, he told her. If we flew just ten or fifteen feet higher, we wouldn’t be in the passageway.