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The dragon lowered its nose, its body only feet from hers, as if waiting for her command, her signal to move.
The dragon opened its eyes . . . chartreuse and angry . . .
And bit Sorcha in half.
And then, with a gulp and chomp, it finished her off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MIDNIGHT RUN
We stared in shock and silence for a full ten seconds, gazing at the spot where Sorcha, our feared enemy, had stood. Now our enemy was being crushed and crunched with horrible liquidy sounds while the dragon mawed on her remaining bits like a cow chewing its cud.
“She was our enemy,” Mallory said. “But . . .”
“But we would have incarcerated her,” Catcher said. “Not made her dragon kibble.”
We all looked at Catcher. “I won’t apologize for wishing her dead, although I’m guessing ‘chewed up’ isn’t a very pleasant way to go.”
We all looked back at the dragon, which coughed, then spat out one of Sorcha’s heels.
“Why do I want to laugh?” Mallory asked.
“Because this is horrible and uncomfortable and the best dark comedy ever written,” Catcher said.
“Yeah,” Mallory said.
But the comedy ended. Done with its snack, the dragon lifted its head, narrowed its reptilian eyes at us.
It had been born of pain and anger and fear—of those bitter, cast-off emotions of human and supernatural Chicagoans. And it had no love for those who’d filled it with agony.
ENEMIES, it said. PAIN. And then it lunged.
• • •
“Lead it back to the guns!” Ethan ordered, and we ran together down Pearson, then turned back to Michigan, leading the dragon back to the Guard units.
The world began to bounce as the dragon found its feet, began hauling down Michigan Avenue after us. And then the shuddering stopped, replaced by the whipping wind of the dragon’s wings.
It was airborne, with plenty of room to spread its wings on Michigan. And we made for a nice, wide target.
“Split off!” Ethan yelled, when we were in sight of the barricade. “Take Mallory and head for the river. We’ll head toward the lake, try to draw him away from you. Get back to the House.”
I nearly stopped running, nearly pulled Ethan to a stop to tell him not to be ridiculous, that I was his Sentinel and I’d guard him, and not the other way around.
I love you, I told him.
Forever, he said, a gleam in his eyes. Take care, Sentinel.
