Page 109 of Dragon 7

“I’m always focused.” Hiro kept walking.

I grinned.

Forty feet.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Goryū held Akiro's body in that invisible vise and the fire still poured from his shadow jaws and Akiro still stood frozen on the stairs with his kusarigama dead in his grip.

Then Goryū's voice entered my head. He has our father’s blood. He is fighting me.

I began to feel it through the bond—a tremor in the hold, a vibration, a crack forming in a dam.

I cannot hold him much longer.

Try.

He is strong.

I’m almost there.

Ten feet from the stairs.

Akiro's right hand twitched. His fingers curled around the kusarigama's handle. His shoulder rolled one inch forward. His jaw clenched so hard I saw the muscles bunch even from the base of the steps.

He was breaking free through sheer will, and I saw the exact second it happened. His whole body jolted forward like a man shocked by cold water, and his eyes went wide, and the kusarigama rose.

While the twins, Reo, and Hiro handled all of Akiro’s men trying to stop us, I got to the bottom of the stairs and began to climb.

Akiro spun the chain.

The heavy ball at the end whistled through the air in a tight arc above his head. The sickle blade shimmered. He had ten feet of reach with that weapon and the skill to use every inch.

I aimed Totoro at him and squeezed.

The flame roared up the stairs.

Akiro sidestepped.

The fire passed his left shoulder and scorched the hatch frame behind him.

The metal glowed orange.

Akiro swung the chain low.

The heavy ball hit the side of Totoro's barrel with a crack that ran up both my arms.

Fuck.

The barrel dented. The flame coughed once and steadied.

I adjusted and fired again.

Akiro dropped to one knee on the stairs and the fire sailed over his head. He whipped the chain up from the crouch and the links wrapped around Totoro's barrel three times before I could pull back.

The metal cinched tight.