“Great honor. Skippy not let die!” There was a moment of nauseous weightlessness as Skippy dove at a ten-story building. “Great honor for tribe.”

“What can I do to help?” Tanya asked me.

I loaded the belt into the 240, slammed down the feed-tray cover, and worked the bolt. “Got any fancy elf magic tricks up your sleeve?”

Tanya didn’t even have sleeves. “Not for nothing like this.”

“Then start praying.”

“I’ll ask Elvis Presley for his divine help,” she promised, and I think she was dead serious.

“You do that.” I yanked the door open and was blasted with wind. Edward came over and helped me get the machine gun onto the door mount. “Ed, your girlfriend is one weird chick.” The orc just gave me a she’s not my girlfriend snort of denial. “Whatever, dude.”

My wife opened the other side door. As Skippy turned, at least one of us would have an angle. “Five bucks says I’m the first one to hit him in the eye,” Julie stated.

“You’re on.” I leaned out. The dragon was behind us. We were flying south down the Las Vegas Strip. The monster’s wingspan was wider than the street, the body long and lean. This was the best look I’d gotten of it so far, and it was frankly terrifying. Its skin was obsidian, so black that it seemed to absorb the brilliant lights of the casinos below. Its head alone was as wide as our chopper. It dwarfed Management. It was a nightmare from a being that caused nightmares. Each rise and fall of the wings was enough to creature turbulence to batter the snot out of our damaged vehicle.

It opened its mouth, and inside was an unfurling stream of liquid flame. It lit up the night. “Evade, Skip! Evade!”

The bolt of superheated gas spanned the distance between us in a heartbeat. Skippy turned us hard as the dragon’s flames filled the space we’d just been in. Hanging on for dear life, I gasped as we narrowly avoided a high-rise tower. I hadn’t even seen it coming.

The dragon was right behind. One of its wings clipped the edge of the Illusions building and obliterated two floors’ worth of windows. It didn’t seem to notice. The beast was coated in licking flames from flying through its own fiery breath. The fires died, beat out by the wind. So it was impervious to that too. So let’s see how he likes bullets. Having a clean shot, I mashed the trigger and walked a stream of tracers across the dragon’s body. It was so damn big that missing was virtually impossible.