And then she was being jerked backward, and she was falling. A hundred and ten pounds of black panther was landing on whoever had yanked her free.
Dizzy . . .
Her vision was blurred, and her body felt like rubber. She hardly had enough strength to twist her head toward the boy who had pulled her away.
Who was he? Who?
Her eyes met blazing green-gold ones.
Almost the eyes of a leopard. It gave Keller a jolt. But the rest of the boy was different. Dark gold hair over a rather pale and strained face with perfectly sculpted features. Human, of course. And those eyes seemed to be blazing with worry and intensity rather than animal ferocity.
Not many people could look at an angry panther like that.
She heard his mental voice again. Are you all right?
And then, for just an instant, something happened. It was as if some barrier had been punctured. Keller felt not just his voice but his worry inside her head. She could feel . . . him.
His name . . . Galen. And he's someone born to command, she thought. He understands animals.
Another shapeshifter?
But I can't feel what animal he turns into. And there's no bloodtbirstiness at all. ...
She didn't understand it, and her panther brain wasn't in the mood to try. It was grounded in the here and now, and all it wanted was to finish what she had started.
She wrenched her eyes away from Galen and looked at the dragon.
Yes, he was still alive but badly wounded. A little snarl worked out of Keller's throat. The vampire thugs were still alive, too; one was picking up the injured dragon and hauling him away.