“This is why I must work a lot, and this is why I cannot let the Pardus brothers drive me out of the city. After many years, I am established here. To start over would be very difficult. It would delay everything.”
“I know. I get it. They’re not going to drive you out of the city.”
“Thank you.”
The waiter brought boxes for our food—I hadn’t finished my mountain of fries—and I paid the bill, then reached for my phone to look at the map again. My fingers paused mid-air.
Did I really need to spend my day researching for Zav when I knew exactly where the people who were threatening Nin were? Yes, Zav would make a good ally were I intending to negotiate with them, but I’d handled dens of shifters on my own before. With some high-powered grenades from Nin and the element of surprise, I could take out the Pardus brothers and their house and weapons supply. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t killed magical beings before. I just didn’t make a habit of doing it if they hadn’t been condemned as criminals and someone wasn’t paying me, usually the government. Freelance stuff was iffier, but I’d always been careful to stick to criminals where footage or other strong evidence showed their evil-doing. I’d never counted crimes against myself as a justifiable reason to kill someone, since they all hated me. But was there truly any doubt about the Pardus brothers? They’d threatened Nin, not just me.
“The glottis,” Nin read from her phone, saying the unfamiliar word carefully, “is the part of the larynx consisting of the vocal cords and the opening between them.”
I shook away my musing and smiled. “Yes, that sounds right. Thank you.”
“Perhaps I will recommend it to my word-of-the-day apps.”
“Is that how you learned English?”
“I took night-school classes. I thought I knew English when I came to America, but nobody could understand me. It was strange.”
“I’m sure.” My phone buzzed. “Hey, Willard.”
“Some people address me as Colonel Willard.”
“I could do some research, learn your first name, and call you by that.”
“Willard is fine.”
“I thought so. Did you get my message?”
“Yes, and even though it’s Sunday and I’m relaxing and recuperating, I went to the office to do some research for you.”
“You were at the gym again, weren’t you?”
“I was doing a leisurely bike ride along the Burke Gilman Trail.”
“If it’s more than twenty miles, you can’t count it as leisurely.”
“You’re a nag, Thorvald.”
“I know. Watch out for dragons while you’re on that trail.” I eyed the phone. “You weren’t looking for the new one, were you?”
“No. I only found out about the missing joggers when I came in. You think this silver dragon took them?”
“He’s into kidnapping. I’m trying to pinpoint the location of his lair, especially if those joggers may still be alive in it.”
“Good. Your next assignment may get preempted if there’s a hostile dragon to deal with.”
I grimaced. “I don’t have a weapon capable of dealing with a hostile dragon.”
“Point the other one at it, open the chute door, and slap him on the ass.”
“The chute? Zav isn’t a bull. Also, your countriness is creeping me out.”
“I can’t help it. I was stationed in Texas for six years. Just be ready. If we have to find a way to deal with him, you’re going to be our best bet. Especially if he’s lurking around the city. We can’t send bombers to drop nukes in the suburbs.”
“I’ll try to get him out of the woods. Did you get my request on the Northern Pride?”
“Yes. I’m putting together a file for you with everything I have on them, and I’ll email it over. But tread carefully around them, all right? Or avoid them altogether. There are a lot of those cat shifters in the North End. They’re well financed, and it’s going to be a legal hassle if we irk them.”
Nin had been reading on her phone, not trying to listen, but she must have heard enough, for she looked up and frowned.
“In other words,” I said, “don’t get caught if I blow up the Pardus house?”
Willard sighed. “You can’t blow up a house in the middle of a mobile-home park.”
“I can if there are ten crabby shifters inside.”
“Don’t do anything unwise, Val. I appreciate that you helped me out, and you do good work, but there are only so many times I can get your ass out of legal trouble.”
“I know, I know.” The file came through. “Maybe I’ll point Zav at their house and try that open-the-chute thing.”
“Don’t forget the ass slapping.”
“I’m sure that’ll excite him.”
“I’ll expect the wedding invitations by next spring.”
“Ha ha. Later.” I pocketed my phone, grabbed my little box of fries, and waved to the door. “I’ve got some files to study. Let me give you a ride back down the hill.”
Nin nodded and headed for the door. Out of habit, I trotted past her so I could go out first.
A dirty white van squealed around the corner at Broadway and Pike, almost mowed over two pedestrians in the crosswalk, and sped toward us. The side door flew open, and two masked figures with guns leaned out.
13
“Get down!” I yelled, aware of people dining at sidewalk tables to either side of the door.
As I shoved Nin back into the restaurant and dove behind a parallel-parked car, the two gunmen hanging out of the van fired. Those gunmen had the auras of magical beings.
Glass shattered and wood splintered as bullets hammered into the building and parked cars. But from the way the masked men twisted and leaned out the door to track me, I knew I was the target.
I reached for Fezzik as the van sped past, but there was no way I could open fire on the busy street. Instead, I sprang out from behind the car and yanked out Chopper as I sprinted after the van. They would have to switch from the side door to the back door to target me—which could happen. But I planned to catch up with them first.
The van did its best to peel away at breakneck speed, but traffic didn’t move fast on Pike at the best of times. They made it to the next block and roared up on the sidewalk to go around a car and make a right turn. They knocked one of their mirrors off on a stout wooden lamppost peppered with flyers, and their wheels wobbled as they dropped back down into the street.
I cut the corner closer and caught up with the van. The men leaned out the side door to fire again, but I sprinted and leaped onto the back fender before they could target me. As the van picked up speed on the straightaway, I pulled myself onto the roof.
When the driver zigzagged in his lane, trying to hurl me off, I plunged Chopper through the metal roof to create a handhold. Someone inside shouted.
Realizing I was vulnerable if they fired through the roof, I started to crawl to the right so I could swing down through the open side door. But the driver veered again, taking us up on another sidewalk and knocking over a trash bin. The roof tipped as the wheels on the right side ran along the curb. The van shuddered as it crunched into a newspaper vending machine. Metal squealed, and if not for my grip on Chopper, I would have flown off the roof.
Before I could pull the blade out and swing down into the van, a low-hanging tree branch almost took my head off. Swearing, I flattened myself in time to avoid being clubbed. My enemies chose that second to open fire at the roof.
Hot fiery pain blasted my side as a bullet sank in. I swore, pulled out Chopper, and rolled sideways, flipping down and through the open door. My boots entered first, and I adjusted my swing to ram each of the sturdy gunmen in the chest. My momentum knocked them backward against the far side of the van—the seats had been removed so we had an open arena.
Good. My side hurt like the fiery circles of hell, and I wanted to take it out on someone.
Using the pain to fuel me, I plowed into the gunmen. There wasn’t room to swing Chopp
er, but I punched and kicked and bashed skulls with the weapon’s hilt. And my enemies had thick skulls. No matter how hard I hit, the masked beings didn’t cry out in pain, only grunted and snarled. Orcs, I guessed, though the driver was masked, too, and I couldn’t tell for sure.
When I stunned one of them with an uppercut, Chopper’s hilt cracking his teeth, I almost threw my back out hurling my foe out of the van. Three hundred pounds of solid muscle.
The other one leaped toward the back of the van, trying to give himself room to aim his rifle at my chest. But I didn’t cooperate. I found the room to slash Chopper into the weapon before the gunman could fire. The blade cut through the barrel as easily as it had the roof, and it almost shaved his knuckles off with it.
The orc cried out and threw the destroyed rifle at me as I lunged in, the point of my sword leading. I dodged, and the weapon sailed past, cracking against the back of the front seat. The driver grunted and veered down an alley, the van going up on two wheels as it turned too fast.
My opponent was hurled against the side. I sank low, keeping my balance, and used the opportunity to grab him and throw him out the door as we veered onto another street.
He swore, twisting in the air and catching the edge of the door. I launched a side kick at his fingers. He let go and bounced three times before landing in a heap on the sidewalk.
I was alone with the driver. He kept glancing back, kept swerving as if doing it hard enough would also hurl me out of the van. It didn’t. I lunged up to his seat and pressed Chopper into the side of his neck.
“Park it.”
Cursing, he tried to jerk away from the cold kiss of my blade and managed to run the van up on the sidewalk again. It clipped a telephone pole before slamming into a tree. I grabbed the seat with my free hand, sinking low for balance. The van pitched sideways and landed on its side in the street. Keeping my feet under me was like staying up on a surfboard in a tsunami. We had been heading down a hill, so the momentum carried the van half a block, metal squealing and smoke pouring from the hood, before it slowed to a stop.
I sliced the driver’s seatbelt strap, grabbed him, and tried to haul him out of the van, but even with the strength of my father’s blood, three hundred pounds was too much for me to lift from a dead stop. I pressed Chopper’s blade against his neck again.
“Get out. We’re going to have a chat.” I glanced through the broken windows, expecting the other orcs would come running up.
“Got nothing to say to the Ruin Bringer,” the orc growled.
I yanked off his ski mask, revealing blue-tinted skin and a short snout full of pointed teeth, including two tusks that hung over his lips, giving him a lisp when he spoke English.
“You attack me just for fun or were you after something else?” I could question him here as well as anywhere, but the wail of sirens in the distance promised it wouldn’t be long before the police showed up. I kept my ears and my senses open so I would know when the other two orcs came close.
“Not for fun. To kill you.”
“I take out some relative of yours?” I’d killed two orc rapists the winter before—they’d sworn a biological imperative forced them to take women to breed and repopulate their species here on Earth—but none since then.
“You hunt the magical, you tray— traitor— traitorous bitch.”
“You shouldn’t use vocabulary words too big to get out around your tusks. And I’m not a traitor. Earth is my home, and these are my people. I’m protecting them.” I thought of the people dropping below their tables and wondered how many had been hurt in the shooting, hurt because these jackasses had been after me. I pushed my blade deep enough to draw blood. “What prompted you to shoot me today?”
“The Pride’s got an extra good bounty out on your head. Freshly issued. You better stay out of town, bitch.”
“Thanks for the tip. Very magnanimous considering you were trying to shoot me thirty seconds ago.” I started to lean back—I could sense the other two orcs coming, only two blocks away and running toward us—but I paused. “You know where that silver dragon is living?”
“Screw you.”
I dug Chopper in deeper, not enough to sever an artery, but I bet I was tickling his glottis. He hissed with pain.
“I have no qualms about killing someone who opened fire on a restaurant and probably put people in the hospital—if not the graveyard. But if you give me a lead on the dragon, I’ll let you live.”
“How should I know? Dragon lairs are in caves, not in cities. You want a lead, go for a hike.” He jerked his head away, banging it against the window hard enough to knock out the already-shattered glass.
But there was nowhere for the orc to go—that side of the van was flat against the street. He roared, yanked out a knife, and twisted in his seat, lunging toward me. I had little choice but to defend myself, and with Chopper already near his neck, I sank it in, cutting his throat. His body stiffened, and the knife fell from his fingers as his life’s blood spurted from his neck.
Frustrated with the situation, I climbed out of the van and leaped to the sidewalk. Pain erupted from where the bullet was lodged in my hip. I swore and barely kept from screaming and pitching to the ground.
Why couldn’t I protect humanity without being at war with every magical being on Earth? The irritatingly familiar tightness came to my chest, but I couldn’t stop to dig out my inhaler yet.
My senses warned me seconds before the other two orcs ran around a corner and into view. I was waiting with Fezzik out and pointed at their chests and Chopper in my other hand, blood darkening the blade. It glowed a soft blue, always pleased when it had the opportunity to do battle.
I kept my injured hip turned away from the orcs, hoping they wouldn’t notice it, though I knew they would smell the blood. They should smell their dead comrade too. Maybe that would make them pause.
The orcs saw me and stopped altogether. I had no idea what expression was on my face, but it must have promised their impending death. They lunged back around the corner and ran back the way they had come.
As the sirens drew closer, I walked toward the nearest alley. My grimace deepened as I sensed another magical aura, this one sailing in from above. By the time I was halfway through the alley, Zav had landed somewhere close and shifted into his human form.
When he stepped into the end of the alley, he was impeccable, as always, not a short curly black hair out of place, not a smudge on his dark robe. I had orc blood on my disheveled clothes, and my own blood was making my shirt stick to my side.
“What?” I demanded, barely remembering not to point any weapons at him. We were allies now, at least for as long as we both had a use for each other.
“The proper address is, Lord Zavryd, you honor me with your presence—how may I be of service to you and dragonkind?”
“I’ll keep that in mind should the day ever come that I want to kiss your ass. What do you want?”
He squinted at me and then looked over his shoulder. At his ass?
I would have laughed if I hadn’t been gritting my teeth in pain. The bullet had done more than graze me. I could feel it inside, grinding against my hip bone. I’d have to go to the hospital to have it removed, and I’d have to do it soon. As I’d learned in the past, my fast healing became an impediment if it healed around a bullet lodged inside me. A military surgeon had cut me open again the last time that had happened.
“I came to see how you are progressing with your research. Dobsaurin had a message delivered to me.” Judging from his tight jaw, it hadn’t been a party invitation with the address to his cave on it. Zav’s gaze shifted to my hip.
I wasn’t favoring it or holding a hand to it, and my black tank and duster hopefully hid it, but his sense of smell had to be at least as good as an orc’s.
“You are injured again,” he stated.
“Yes. You’re as perceptive as you are magnificent.”
“You are mocking me?” His dark brows rose.
I couldn’t
tell if it was surprise or indignation or both. Ally, I reminded myself. Ally.
I forced myself to lift an apologetic hand. “Yes, but I mock everybody who gets in my way. It’s a bad habit. I’m sorry. I’m in pain and that makes me cranky. I’m also worried about all the people who might have just been hurt—or worse—because some idiot orcs got an itch to take me out and make some money.”
No, that wasn’t even it. It was because I’d gone to the Pardus brothers’ house and turned them into enemies. Looking back, I wasn’t sure how I could have avoided that, but someone with more smarts and more charisma surely could have managed it. I’d only made things worse for myself and for anyone standing next to me.
A wave of dizziness washed over me—how much blood had I lost?—and I stumbled over and pressed a hand against the cool brick wall for support. I closed my eyes, struggling for equilibrium and calm, but thoughts raced through my head. I had to check on Nin and the people at the restaurant, and if I didn’t want to deal with talking to the police, I needed to hobble out of the area. And back to my Jeep and to the hospital. I didn’t even know where we were. Miles from where I’d parked by now, I was sure.
It was only because I sensed Zav coming closer that I opened my eyes. And almost pitched over because he was less than a foot away. Only the wall kept me upright.
I planted my hand against his chest, remembering the times I’d been close to him before. It had been so he could touch my head and put his stupid compulsions in my mind. That tingle of power that always emanated from him stirred goosebumps on my skin, and I grew aware of the hard muscle of his chest through the fabric of his robe. He was another shifter who opted for the bodybuilder persona when in human form.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked as casually as I could manage, though having him so close unnerved me.
He looked down at my hand, a faint glow to his violet eyes. He was probably appalled that I was touching him. Presuming to touch him. “There is a metal projectile lodged in your hip.”
Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons Book 2) Page 11