Chapter 28

Bailey

I fingered the knife, testing its weight before flinging it at my target. The tip of the blade struck the black circle in the center. I turned to look at Jana, one of the slayers on my team from back in North Carolina.

“Your turn,” I said, raising my beer bottle with a smug grin.

I hadn’t kept up with my knife-throwing skills much since my return. There’d been too many other things to do. Even for dragon hunting, I’d only done the bare minimum, using a couple of battles with the Kandoran to also quell my killing urges.

Jana always loved to practice during our off time. A few C-130s had flown in this morning with a fresh shipment of food and supplies, kindly including a crate filled with beer. The New American Coalition didn’t like to manufacture many non-vital things, but a few alcohol types made the cut. Most people who risked their lives often preferred to have some way to help them relax.

She tossed her knife, and it landed next to mine. “Looks like another tie.”

“Not bad for someone out of practice,” I said, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder.

“My turn.” Conrad strutted to the target board and pulled the blades.

While he’d chosen to come with me, Rayna had passed on it. She and Rosalie had gotten a bottle of wine and planned to hang out and relax. Of course, neither were close with the coalition slayers, so I understood.

“Let’s see what you got now that you’re a full slayer,” I said, lifting a brow. “This wasn’t your best skill before.”

Conrad scowled at me. “I wasn’t that damn bad.”

“Yeah, you could hit the board…in the corners, I guess.”

“Girl, you playin’!”

He was awful before, but I still insisted he stand at the same distance as me this time. If he wanted to prove himself, he’d do it like the rest of us. Tossing a blade from twenty-five feet and getting it to stick in a board wasn’t easy from that far away. The additional strength and agility we got as dragon slayers made a difference.

“Good luck,” I said.

Conrad flung a blade, quickly followed by another. They landed at the edge of the center circle, on the left and right sides, respectively. Had he done it that way on purpose? There was no way to know for sure since he’d likely swear it was intentional.

“Good job.” I nodded, impressed. “There is hope for you yet.”

“Ha! I’ll be better than you before long,” he said with a swagger as he went to grab the blades.

“You wish,” I called.

Brody, my former battle partner in North Carolina, took the knives from him. “My turn…and I want to challenge him for this round.”

He pointed at David. He was one of the guys who’d trained with my father in Tulsa. The slayer had come down a few days ago after hearing about a large group of us gathering before the war. Apparently, there was a sorcerer up there who was like Javier and could see current events. As I recalled, my father had mentioned him a time or two.

Magic users from all over were arriving to help. It touched me that so many were willing to jump into the fight without being asked, and most had the luxury of living farther from the threat. Of course, the war would reach them eventually if we lost.

Tomorrow morning, Chinook helicopters from the coalition would transport fighters and sorcerers to their designated positions along the front lines if they were stationed farther than an hour's walk. Slayers would be dispersed in pairs about six miles apart between the Texas border and Oklahoma City near the bunkers Ruari had overseen constructing.

David’s partner from Tulsa was already set up on the western side of Edmond as one of the few pairs that would defend the line along pure dragon territory. At least my father had taught them to control themselves, so they’d only attack the enemy, not our allies.

A lump formed in my throat.

I forced back thoughts of Wayne before despair overcame me as it often did when I thought of him. There would be time after the war to mourn his loss properly and see him buried. For now, I had to honor him by helping win the battles to come.

David stepped forward to take one of the knives. To be fair, we all used the same set, so no one had an unfair advantage. The slayer from Tulsa was muscular and at least half a foot taller than me, with shaggy blond hair and tan skin. He had a scar along his left cheek that ran down to his jaw that hadn’t been there five years ago when I last saw him. For a slayer to retain a scar, the injury had to be very bad. I wondered how he got it, but I didn’t ask.

“You’re on, man,” he said to Brody.

My former partner swept his arm out. “Pretty boys first.”

He could be an ass. Since I had a higher tolerance than most for the arrogant sarcastic types, Conrad as an example, they’d chosen to pair me with Brody after I finished my maternity leave with Orion. Everyone else had gotten the urge to stab him, and a few actually did—not that leadership found out about that part. He healed fast, and none of us would have ever told on each other. If Conrad hadn’t gone to the coast to be near his parents, I would have chosen him instead, though.

David threw his dagger, landing it in the same spot I did. Good for him.

A thoughtful expression came over Brody’s face. “Hmm, not bad.”

He lifted his arm, eyed the target, and tossed the knife. We waited to see where it would land, gasping when it kissed the first one with no more than a millimeter between them. They were evenly matched.

“That’s a draw,” I said, taking another swig of my beer. It was almost empty.

Conrad whistled. “Woo-wee, didn’t see that one comin’, but maybe another round to break the tie?”

Brody grabbed a fresh beer. “Nah, man. It’s time for music and dancing. Slayer tradition the night before a big battle.”

Technically, it was only two in the afternoon, but we were drinking early since we needed to be sober by dinnertime. They had a pre-war meeting with the coalition after their big feast, and I had obligations at the fortress. Hence, why we scheduled our hang-out time for now. The likelihood of all of us walking away from this war alive was abysmally low. No one would feel more compelled to keep fighting, no matter the odds, than us. It was our destiny to die in battle, which was understood though rarely spoken aloud.

Faint music filled the air from an old boom box someone had brought from North Carolina. They’d also packed a CD collection, so we had some options. It was plugged into the outbuilding behind us, which no one was using, but thankfully, it had power.

They cranked the sound up so I could hear “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark” by Fall Out Boy. It was always our favorite to listen to before battle, especially because of the part about lighting it up. No one played with fire more than we did. I got up with the others, joining them to dance to the music. For a little while, we lost ourselves in the joy of the moment together.