She spun around, pressed her back to the doors, and stared at the creatures. The demons approached slowly, grins widening. Angel detached from the ceiling, landed on the floor, and hissed like a viper. Her tongue reached out across the hall, an obscene tentacle longer than three men, to lick Issari's cheek.

Issari raised her hand. Her amulet, embedded into her palm, blazed to life.

"By the light of Taal!" she shouted. "I banish you. I—"

Angel spat. A wad of dark drool hit the amulet, hiding its glow. With a scream, Issari tried to rip the glob off, but it clung to her hand, black and sticky.

The Demon Queen leaped toward her, crossing the throne room in a single bound. She landed before Issari, gripped her cheeks, and hissed.

"What a pretty thing." She caressed Issari's hair with a clawed hand. "So fair. So fresh. So innocent. You will be mine to break. I will mate with you, and so will all in my hall. And when we are done, we will feast upon you." Smoke rose from her mouth, and she licked her lips. "You will live through it. You will watch as we devour your legs, then your arms, then slowly work our way up your torso, sucking up your entrails as you scream. But you will not die." Angel sneered, holding Issari pinned against the doors. "Not until I say you can."

Around them, the other demons howled, drooled, laughed, beat their wings, spewed their filth. Their faces spun, eyes red, mouths dripping.

Issari closed her eyes.

A dragon can defeat them. A dragon can blow fire. A dragon can fly away.

She took a deep breath, seeking a magic deep within her. She imagined herself growing wings and claws, rising, flying. Yet nothing happened.

The demons dragged her away from the doors. They slammed her against the floor, stretched out her limbs until they almost dislocated, and held her down on her back. Towering creatures like human vultures cloaked in red feathers leaned forward. Their beaks opened, full of serrated teeth. Worms crawled between their feet, as large as children; they were great leeches, Issari realized, like the ones Shedah had used but many times the size.

"Break her!" Angel commanded.

Issari closed her eyes again.

To shift is not a curse, she thought. My mother could shift. My siblings can. Even my father shifted.

She breathed shakily. For years, King Raem had preached of the evil of the reptilian curse. For years, Issari had feared the magic, thinking the weredragons poor souls to pity. But her father too could shift! It was not a curse. It was not an abomination unto Taal.

It was magic.

Issari took a deep, shuddering breath.

Wings sprouted from her back, shoving her upward.