by KC Kingmaker
“Stop.” My skin crawled. I wanted to get out of the terrible place, but not before I accomplished what I came here to find out. “I’m not going to put up with this. Enough games. Tell me what I want to know.”
“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I squinted at him, studying him deeply—the sweaty pate, the rotund figure, the darting eyes. “You’re in trouble. Someone came in here and threatened you. Told you not to talk to me.”
He averted his gaze and I knew I was correct.
“No, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not.” Rage inched up my spine. “And I have a feeling he was as tall as a tree and with a head full of auburn hair.”
Wide, fearful eyes shot up to me. He hissed, “It’s not my job to get in between your lover’s quarrel.”
Lover’s quarrel? Ha!
I had to imagine Coalt scared Manek much more than I did. It all came together. “Listen, he won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.”
Manek snorted then wiped snot from his upper lip. “As if you have a say. I haven’t made it this long being a fool, girl. Now get out.”
I clenched my jaw. An idea came to mind. “You know, it’s a shame Cerophus is a dry city.”
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked them in. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m sure you could make plenty more Scraps without having to hide what you do.”
He growled at me like an animal. “That’s it!” he yelled, thrusting a finger. “Get out. You know nothing!”
I stood my ground, reaching behind me for my dagger, and not really trying to hide it. “Sorry, Manek, but that’s not going to happen.”
“Oh, are you going to try to kill me? How heroic.”
“I never called myself a hero. But then again, I’m sure plenty of people wouldn’t mind if one more criminal was off the streets.”
“You bitch,” he snarled, taking a step forward.
“Or, we could talk.” I gestured vaguely in the air with my free hand. “It would be a shame if the city guard found out about your little Shine operation here, Manek.”
My threat seemed to weigh heavily on him. Suddenly he wasn’t so brash.
“You would blackmail me?”
“Absolutely.”
Slowly, a smile tugged his lips. It baffled me when he said, “Oh, I like you. I had you wrong from the start.”
It almost shattered the attitude I was putting on. I said nothing, still perplexed.
“If you can play the game,” he admitted, “you’re all right by me.” He sighed and shook his head, then retrieved a crumpled scroll that turned out to be a map. “Your boyfriend is at this warehouse in the pottery district. That’s where you’ll find the sword.” He jabbed a stubby finger at a spot on the map.
Though I wanted to chide him for calling Coalt my “boyfriend,” I couldn’t stop the jolt of hope that soared through me. “Really?”
He nodded. “Just keep that big fucker away from me. He frightens me.”
Yes, I could see Manek’s day wasn’t going too well, getting intimidated and then threatened all in an afternoon.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t return,” I said.
He raised a single brow and gave me a curt nod.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to leave.
“How did you know what I do?” he asked before I reached the door.
I glanced over my shoulder and winked. “I have connections just like you, Vero.”
Or, rather, the luck of the draw worked out in my favor this time. Thanks, Grandmother.
THE WAREHOUSE WAS A large, nondescript building in a better part of town than the tanning shanty.
Other nondescript buildings surrounded it. This was clearly a commercial district, which meant there weren’t many people walking the streets. It had taken me hours to get here because it was on the other side of the city and it was nearly dark.
Those facts made me uneasy. The hair on my arms stood on end.
Crouched behind a barrel across the street, I watched the warehouse, looking for any comings and goings.
I hadn’t seen anything suspicious. That, in itself, was eerie.
I had the distinct impression I was walking into a trap. Somehow. I couldn’t decide why I thought that, but everything here just seemed too peaceful and easy.
If Manek was to be believed, the dragonrune sword was inside there? I didn’t buy it. What would such a legendary, powerful weapon be doing in a warehouse full of pots and pans?
But this was where my information had led me.
I took a deep breath. “Come on, Lev,” I encouraged myself. “If you want to see those Sheets, you’d better make a move. There’s no going back now.”
I pulled my makeshift hood over my head then dashed across the street, looking both ways in case bad guys were hiding in the shadows.
When I reached the single front door, I saw it was slightly ajar.
I drew my dagger and opened the door wider with the flat of my blade.
Yes, too easy . . .
Nothing jumped out to attack me or hurt me, though.
I poked my head in. The warehouse smelled musty, like it hadn’t been inhabited in a while and was full of dust motes.
Large crates blocked most of my view, but no one stood guard. I crouched low and scrambled onward.
Reaching a crate, I froze, sliding my back against it. Low voices echoed dimly through the high-ceilinged structure.
I let my backpack slide from my shoulders so it wouldn’t weigh me down.
Ever so slowly, I stuck my head out from where I hid, watching with a single eye.
My breath caught in my throat.
Coalt stood ahead in an uncluttered, open part of the warehouse. His boots reverberated off the various boxes near me.
Just seeing him made a longing stab at my chest. Desire prickled at the back of my neck, but I quickly shut it off. My base instinct had no right showing up when I was still so pissed off at the dragon shifter.
I was about to slide out from behind the crate and show myself, to angrily call his name in dazzling, ominous form—
But someone’s voice stopped me.
Coalt wasn’t alone.
And that’s when I saw shapes emerging from the shadows, moving to surround him.
19
Coalt
My swords came out in a blur of steel.
I scanned my surroundings—plenty of open room to maneuver. Men emerged from the shadows, from behind crates and boxes, eight of them in all.
These weren’t Cerophus Defenders or guards. Most of these men wore plain leather tunics, padding, hide, and wielded clubs, daggers, or shortswords.
These were thugs. Likely from some misguided gang of thieves that roamed the city under cover of darkness.
My question was: What were they doing here? Why did they wish to oppose me? Or, rather, who had ordered them to?
Clearly, I’d been set up. But that slithery frog Manek didn’t seem to have the pull to put together something like this ambush. There was someone above him.
“You don’t want to do this,” I murmured in a low voice, eyes darting. I skimmed the points of my blades against the floor, making a few of the men cringe from the screeching sound.
The apparent leader of the gang scoffed. “You’re heavily outnumbered, man. Just put down your weapons.”
Ah, yes. I recalled the last time someone had said that to me, not too long ago. His blood had ended up all over the mane of his beautiful horse.
When would these people learn?
“Who sent you?” I asked the thug.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll bring you to him and you can find out soon enough.”
I mulled that over. “No, I don’t think so. Doesn’t jive with my schedule.”
His brows jumped. “You think you can fight off all of us?”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“I knew dragon shifters were arrogant, but this is another level.”
His laugh was phlegmatic. “We also know you can’t hold a shift for long. Not without your precious sword.”
There weren’t many Unscaled who knew what I was, so that narrowed down my list of suspects.
“Speaking of the sword,” I said nonchalantly, “you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you? It’s not just lying in a crate behind you somewhere?”
“Afraid not.”
I shrugged. “Then I’ll leave. I have no quarrel with your kind.”
“It’s too late for that, guy.”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead with my wrist. “I’m sorry to hear that. So, what’ll it be—one after the other, or all at once—”
“Shut this fucker up!” the man blurted, and then feet shuffled and they were closing in.
I lunged right for him first, hoping if I cut him down the rest of them would flee like the Cerophus Defenders had when their commander fell.
He backpedaled, eyes widening even as a mass of bodies converged on me from all sides.
He brought his club down to stop my swords-first lunge, but was far too slow—
My blades stabbed into his belly and he grunted as I gutted him and tore them out sideways, wheeling to fend off the incoming swarm of weapons.
He was falling over in a bloody geyser by the time I spun and scanned the next three moves I’d make.
My training took over.
I was a disciple of the best fire dragon soldiers on Caan—a shining product of my people.
Years of hard-fought, hard-won battles prepared me for combat. I’d always been an offensive fighter.
It was my people’s way.
But I was immediately put on the defensive by a lashing sword, a lunging dagger, and a club swinging overhead—
I ducked to avoid the club, twirling in to the guard of the dagger-wielder and wrapping my right arm around his elbow to keep his arm frozen. My left arm lashed out and parried the sword slash, knocking it aside.
Jerking my right arm, I heard the satisfying crunch of his breaking bones, the dagger clanging to the ground shortly after his squeal of pain.
I pirouetted away from him and brought a flurry of attacks on the sword-wielder, pushing him back into a defensive backpedal—
Two more were coming in hot from either side, and I hadn’t forgotten about the club- and dagger-guys behind me.
I rolled underneath a wild slice from the shortsword in front of me, right past him, anticipating a plethora of attacks at my back—
I came up with a hop, just in time to parry two blades and nick the sword-arm of another.
The clubber was barreling in with a battle cry—the largest man of the group.
I turned my attention to him and gritted my teeth, X-ing my blades in front of me to stop his heavy-handed downward blow, which rattled my forearms.
I pushed back and carved my blades across his chest, sending him reeling toward the ground.
Pain shot up my right leg—someone had scored a slice during my single-minded focus.
Two were down and another was incapacitated.
My eyes bulged as three men simultaneously attacked, swords and clubs swinging wildly.
I batted them aside and slid backward, put on the defensive, and I knew I was in trouble.
This wasn’t my way. I couldn’t fend them off for long.
A blur out the corner of my eye nearly had me lose that eye.
I parried my attacker just in time to see a cloud of silver brighten the dark room.
My heart flew to my throat.
Levia ran sidelong across the battlefield, coming up behind two or three men before they noticed her presence—
Her dagger flashed low and cut out the tendons of one man’s heels, and he went down with a shriek.
Another turned to her in surprise, just in time to feel her dagger plunge between his ribs.
I refocused my attack and sidestepped from my three attackers to avoid backing myself into a crate.
They pressed on and I parried their predictable strikes—they were trying just as hard not to hit each other as they were to hit me, and that gave me an advantage.
Even so, when I took the opportunity to lob off a man’s arm at the wrist from a poorly aimed strike, it earned me my own wound across my side.
The slicing sword that caught me sent fire through my body and had me roaring.
My flaring eyes made the two in front of me hesitate.
I was rejuvenated from the pain and the sight of Levia dancing around like a phantom of death.
I took the enemy’s hesitation and went on the attack, using my feet to circle them and make it seem like I wasn’t the one surrounded.
Another cry was cut short by Levia’s dagger.
My steel rang against steel.
The man pushed back.
The second one, a one-eyed man, came in from my side, trying to score another hit where I was already bleeding—
A flick of my left-hand blade took out his other eye, and then he was screaming and useless, dropping to the ground and writhing.
Levia careened nearby, quiet as a ghost. When she stood she was right behind the man I was parrying.
I had expected she’d be fast, being a limber, agile woman, but I hadn’t expected this amount of gracefulness in her movements.
Her dagger slicked across his calves and he tumbled backwards, dropping his weapon.
And then Levia and I were the only ones standing amidst a crowd of rolling, crying thugs.
The comfort of her body so close set my soul afire. I desperately wanted to reach out and tug her against my chest, to wrap my arm around her neck and smother her lips with mine.
But the look on her face told me if I tried that, she’d be the only one leaving this room.
She bared her teeth at me like a wolf, her purple eyes brilliant in the darkness. Then she tossed her silver hair and marched away, kicking aside swords and daggers on the ground as she went.
“Levia, wait!” I called, reaching out fruitlessly.
She wouldn’t be stopped.
She didn’t know how good it felt to see her. How could I tell her, after what I’d done?
Levia would probably never trust me again, and for good reason. I had left her by the river. Safe, yes, but still deserted.
I didn’t know enough about her life to know if she’d had abandonment issues in the past, but judging by the refuge she ran for the battered women . . .
I gritted my teeth. She was nearly to the door of the warehouse, just a silhouette in the distance.
Sheathing my swords, I took a deep breath and scanned the ground of bodies. Most of them were writhing, but would live—only two or three were dead.
And I’d seen enough killing for the day.
I didn’t know what I’d say to Leviathan, or if I could make things better, but I knew I had to try.
Through the pain of my wounds, I chased after her.
“PLEASE, LEVIA, HEAR me!” I pled once we were in the chilly night outside.
She was across the street, her back to me. Her shoulders tensed at my words.
I couldn’t believe she had helped me after what I’d done.
When she faced me, pure rage was plastered across her features. It took all my power not to close the gap and try to console her.
“If you want to make it out of this city,” she growled, “I suggest you separate yourself from those screaming thugs before the authorities get here.”
Then she was stalking down the road again.
I hurried after her. “Where will you go?”
“Away,” she said. “Away from this. Away from you.”
A pang of sorrow racked my body. I was a lost cause.
I had regretted leaving her, of course, but after our night in the tent, I knew I’d had to. There were too many things in my life she didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—and for her own s
afety it had been necessary to drag myself away from my silver vision.
But I couldn’t tell her that because I knew how that would end.
Not well.
When I said nothing, she snarled, “I’ll throttle that weasel Manek and get some real answers out of him.”
“Let’s do it together,” I blurted.
She scoffed at me, throwing her head back with an ugly sound from her lips. She was disgusted by me.
I came up alongside her, and though I was much taller, I had to hurry to keep up with her speedy trudging.
We didn’t speak for a while. I didn’t know what to say.
Finally, when we seemed far enough away from the warehouse to feel somewhat safe, she stopped abruptly and jabbed a finger toward me. “You left me out there alone!” she screamed, her voice carrying in the night.
I locked eyes with her and saw she was close to tears.
Unreasonable anger surged through me—not aimed at Levia, but at myself.
Still, my fury didn’t discriminate. It showed itself to whoever I was talking to, even if that person was someone I deeply cared for.
“You said you could fend for yourself,” I replied shamefully, defensively. “And clearly you can.”
Those weren’t the words I’d wanted to say.
And they weren’t the ones she’d wanted to hear.
Her wild visage only twisted fiercer. “But after what we did?”
“You said it didn’t mean anything! You made me think you didn’t care!”
“And you believed me?!” she screamed incredulously.
Her words abruptly stopped me from my defensive rebuttal. We were standing closer now, each new part of our yelling match drawing us toward one another like a moth to flame.
I could nearly taste her on my lips, that cinnamon and earthy flavor. Neither of us would budge.
My heart hammered in my chest. We were panting, still driven crazy by the adrenaline of our recent battle, and now locked in a new one.
She was so close, and my dragon ached to be free.
A heady sensation swirled through me and I knew I had to tell her the truth—why I had left her after our miraculous evening together.
I had truly broken her heart.