Page 135 of Break Out the Girl

More fire, but still, a weakened amount.

Cos basically dying has left his dragon in a bit of a state. I’m sure that does not land well, knowing his ego.

But once again, little sis to the rescue.

I narrow the tornado until the flames shoot downward in a hungry blast. The vulture, or whatever, can’t get away, trapped in my vortex.

Cosmo dives down, underneath our flaming whirlwind and attacks from below. I widen the maelstrom, allowing his chunky body through.

His fierce jaws widen then snatch down on the curved talons. He tethers the creature by its feet, and I understand what I have to do.

Whip that fucking duck in the cyclone until its legs break clean off.

It’s gruesome. The thing screeches and flails, but then it falters—desperately trying to peck at Cosmo.

But Cos releases the broken bird-femurs and swoops higher, this time clamping his jaws around its neck.

Game over.

Just one giant crunch and the job is done.

Drakeward’s for the win.

If only we could have fought together so effectively against father.

No time to mull on those thoughts. I rush back to earth where the world is a scene of mayhem.

Ludo the minotaur is charging while one of Grieves’ gunmen is desperately firing back. The bullets don’t stop Ludo. He lumbers over the shooter, hand locking around the hot barrel of the rifle and twisting it into a pretzel before goring the man in the chest.

Holy fuck.

OK, leave the gunmen to Ludo.

Where is Sky?

I finally spot her, in Regan Grieves’ grip.

He’s half-human and half-bear, dragging her up the gravel drive towards a couple of trucks in the distance. The second bear is a monstrous thing with ratty gray fur.

It snaps and growls as my wolf and giant snake try to get past it to rescue our girl.

More movement.

Behind the two bears, springing from tree to tree, I see my faun.

Hurling my wind-form into the chaos, I aim for the gray bear’s legs.

Fuck, he’s heavy, like trying to push over a mountain with a breeze, but at least it makes him stagger, which opens up a moment for François to strike. His massive form leaps and coils around the bear’s throat as Tally buries his jaws around the creature’s ankle.

The bear lurches, and I take the momentum, and exaggerate it with a pointed blast. Now the thing does go over, landing heavily on its knees.

Leaving the guys to finish it, I rush to Sky.

The younger Grieves is cursing and screaming, throwing Sky into a truck cabin. Shit, she’s unconscious now.

London flies off a high branch, his shiny, razor-sharp hooves smashing into the bear-man’s shoulders. I thump down a high pressure draft to keep Grieves pinned, as London’s ridiculously muscled faun-arms encircle the bastard's neck.

“DIE, COCO THE WORST CLOWN EVER!” he screams in the strange faun-voice that sometimes erupts from this form. “DIE!”