A Fifth Daughter [Book 1: The Dragon Rider]

Chapter ~ 17

Too many and for far too long.

The burning in my palm intensifies to where I can't ignore it. I finally pull my eyes from the Demons to glance down.

Black blood mixed with a dark vapor drips from my right hand and curls around my fingers. The smoke mentally wraps me in a comforting blanket; it's warm and homey; like baked cookies. But there's a darkness to it that sends shivers down my spine; like on-the-verge-of-burnt cookies.

"Cai," I tug on our mental link, trying to find him. "What is this?"

There's no answer.

I try again at the same time Davenport says; "Dragon Rider."

Why thank you for finally noticing. I'm totally trying to hide the fact that I'm a rider of the large, scaly serpents. What gave it away? My dress? My burning palm? I bet it was my willingness to die.

Suddenly, I'm laughing. On the inside I'm frowning (trying to figure out what's going on with my hand – and my head), but outside; I'm laughing. Like hysterically. As if someone said something completely out-of-this-world funny. But only Davenport has said anything – and it wasn't very funny (more like condemning).

So what, in the name of Flame, am I laughing at?

"For the love of Flame, uncle," I spit, out, "it sure did take you long enough." Davenport steps back, looking like I smacked him, which I probably just did with that relative bomb. Although I was kind of hoping it'd blow up. Instead he just looks shaken; he'll be fine in a few minutes. I'm still laughing; my stomach is slowly starting to ache with the hysteria of my mirth. "We've never actually met, my name is Smoke Haze Green, I happen to be your niece, and your destruction."

That last part came out of nowhere. I'm his destruction? Seriously? Any more cliché lines oh-helpful-brain? Nope. My brain is dead; quite literally, as I'm still bubbling with giggles of some unknown joke.

Davenport almost smiles, like maybe he gets the unsaid joke, but even that small curve of his lips is forced. My mind kicks into overdrive; spinning faster than light, and that heightened sense of everything around me wakes up again. There's a snarl in that fake smile, one I nearly miss, and now the Vespertilio are charging that little space between us.

Instinct, the same from my first day training under Roxanne, takes over and I'm spinning on my knees; kicking one Demon's legs out from under him and driving my blade through the rough hide and thin bones of his forehead. He goes still immediately. The second Vespertilio dies quickly, my blade, slick with the blood of his comrade, flying through the air and striking him down through the eye-socket. Death is instant.

I'm weaponless now and breathing hard, but adrenaline races through every fiber of my being. The rage is nearly gone, the strange power that it brought remaining, and pooling in my right palm, which continues to burn like my skin is being torn off. The pain makes me wince, but for now it keeps me awake.

"You have been well trained, niece," Davenport starts, a dark grin distorting his already harsh features, "but you cannot fight two fronts at once." It doesn't take me long to realize that the second front isn't the horde of Demons surrounding me or the – where on Fantasy did that come from? – imposing, huge red eye peering through two of the large windows – no that's all the first wave. The second is the wild ache in my hand. And he's right. Even as my adrenaline fights to keep the burn at bay, it won't last out the Demons flittering from the arching windows near the ceiling and slithering through the double doors. Besides, I'm weaponless. "And I'm afraid your friends won't be able to help you either."

Well, there goes the surprise attack.

I'm laughing again.

Surprise attack? What surprise attack?