Home > False Security (Death Before Dragons #5)(17)

False Security (Death Before Dragons #5)(17)
Author: Lindsay Buroker

I put a hand on Weber’s chest before he could reply and pushed him away from Zav and to the other end of the patio.

“Have you ever interacted with a dragon before?” I asked him quietly.

“Just this one,” he said. “I don’t like him.”

“Here’s the thing: dragons are nearly immortal and insanely powerful, and they think humans are vermin, so they’re not afraid to smash us like bugs.” Admittedly, Zav was unlikely to kill someone, since he considered himself a noble upholder of law in the Cosmic Realms, but by now, I’d met other dragons who would do exactly what I’d described if Weber pissed them off.

“I’m powerful too,” Weber said mulishly.

“Uh huh. He’s going to be super daunted when you show him your mighty bank account.”

Weber frowned at me again. “Employees are usually more circumspect about being sarcastic with their employers.”

“I’m special.”

“Do you spend a lot of time unemployed?”

“No. My services are in high demand.”

“Your sarcastic services.” He sounded skeptical. I decided I wouldn’t ask him for a reference in the future.

“Yup.”

I thought Zav, if he said anything at all, would point out that I also was not properly respectful of dragons, but his eyes were closed to slits as he watched this exchange.

“This inferior human is not being properly respectful of my Tlavar’vareous sha,” he stated.

“Inferior human?” Weber’s hand strayed again toward the bulge in his jacket.

“That won’t work on him,” I muttered, not mentioning that it probably wouldn’t work on werewolves either, unless he’d gotten silver bullets. Even then, without some powerful magic imbuing them, they would be less bothersome than shotgun pellets to an elephant.

“Shooting him won’t hurt?” Weber asked.

“Nope.” This time, I walked across the patio and put a hand on Zav’s chest. “Please return to your hunt for criminals and vampires.”

He looked down at my hand, then let his gaze wander to other parts of my anatomy that were possibly more intriguing in the dress than when they were under my usual work clothes.

Silently, I added, This job pays well and will get me out of debt for that Jeep that a certain powerful winged being destroyed. If I can keep it. Please don’t mess it up for me. If you want to talk about something, we can talk at my place in the morning.

You will be alone?

Yes. Bring some tea and scones, and don’t squish the rooftop deck chairs when you land, and I’ll listen raptly to anything you want to say.

His gaze shifted to my face. You wish me to feed you?

Yeah, but it doesn’t work the same way with humans. Don’t expect me to get randy.

We shall see. Zav rested his hand on mine, his aura crackling in the air around us, and his eyes seemed to promise that we’d do more than munch on scones in the morning.

Before I could decide if I wanted to object to his hungry, possessive look—at least to his doing it in front of a client—Zav released me and stepped back. He sprang into the air and shifted into his dragon form, his powerful wings flapping hard enough to rattle the branches in the nearby trees—and kick up my dress enough that I was glad I’d picked some of my classier underwear for the evening.

“Are you sure shooting him wouldn’t work?” Weber patted his jacket.

The fact that he kept drawing attention, intentionally or not, to his hidden firearm told me he had little experience with it. If there was a fight, I’d definitely have to watch my back so he didn’t accidentally shoot me.

“I’ve seen him incinerate bullets before they hit him.” I turned to face him, glad he appeared more contemplative than truly angry or petulant about this. Even if I was sarcastic by nature, that didn’t mean I didn’t want this job. “I’ve also seen him fight another dragon. They knocked down houses and set fire to a neighborhood in Bothell. You’re in enough trouble already with werewolves. Don’t make an enemy of a dragon. Trust me. That never goes well.”

“Very well, but I would appreciate it if you asked him not to show up again while you’re working for me.”

“I’m working on that. Dragons tend to do what they want and ignore the wishes of lesser beings, as they call us.”

“Inferior humans.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Weber?” someone called from inside. “We’re starting the meal soon.”

“Coming.” Weber offered me his arm again. “Shall we?”

“Can’t wait.”

Zav had flown out of sight, and I could barely sense his aura, but he was still close enough to speak telepathically to me.

What is a scone? he asked.

You have all night to find out.

13

The limo wasn’t waiting when we walked out to the parking lot. Weber had already called to arrange it, and he called again, asking where the driver was.

My paranoia kicked in, especially when I saw how close we were to the bushes that had been rattling earlier. And how few guests were out here milling around. Weber had opted out of the post-dinner boozing out on the yachts and hadn’t cared about waiting to see if he won one of the charity things he’d bid on, so we were leaving before the rush. I still didn’t sense anything magical in the foliage or anywhere around us, unless one counted the faint signature of Weber’s gun, but someone could be camouflaged.

Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, I tapped my feline charm and called forth Sindari. As the mist formed beside me, the bushes rattled as if a tornado were sweeping through.

Weber cursed and dropped his phone as I spun, yanking out Fezzik. More than ten snarling hounds with shaggy black fur rushed toward us. Their eyes glowed yellow, and silver collars jangled around their necks as they ran. Flecks of slaver flew from their fangs as they issued unearthly growls that sent shivers down my spine.

They weren’t werewolves, but they weren’t mundane dogs either, so I didn’t hesitate to step in front of Weber and fire. My bullets slammed into the chest of one of the lead hounds, and it faltered but didn’t cry out in pain. I fired again and again as the pack tore toward us. The bullets found their marks, sinking in deep, and a few of the hounds slowed down, but others kept coming, their eyes flaring an even brighter yellow and their silver collars glowing. I could see the magic, but I still couldn’t sense it.

“Go back inside,” I barked, waving behind me for Weber to run away.

Sindari finished forming in time to spring into the pack, his claws slashing and fangs sinking into two enemies in the lead. The rest of the devil hounds surged around him and continued toward me. I fired a few more rounds, but then they were too close. I switched weapons, using Chopper as much as a barrier to keep them back as a means of attacking.

Snarls and eerie barks filled the night, the possessed creatures sounding nothing like real dogs. They looked like they’d been made in some mad scientist’s laboratory, pieced together from spare parts and animated by magic.

At one point, I fought five at once and was forced to back up until my butt almost bumped an SUV. Even with Chopper slashing and blocking so quickly the blade left blue streaks in the air, the hounds slipped past my guard more than once. Pain lashed up my arms as fangs cut into my unprotected skin. Damn the useless dress.

At least the hounds focused on me and didn’t try to run past to get to Weber. I glanced back, hoping he’d gone inside. I didn’t see him. Good.

Their controller is in the bushes, Sindari informed me as his fangs sank into one of the hounds he faced. His powerful muscles bunched as he heaved the big creature into the air and threw it into another one fighting beside it.

Controller? I was panting from the exertion of defending so rapidly, whipping Chopper left, right, and down in front of me to deflect the myriad attacks. Slaver spattered my hands and face, and fangs clanged as they struck my blade.

The one ordering them to attack with magic. I believe it is a vampire.

A vampire? I sprang straight up as a hulking hound dove for my legs. It crashed into the car as I came down on the creature’s back, driving Chopper’s point into its spine. Bone crunched, and the hound’s legs gave out.

I do not sense him, but I smell him.

I scrambled up onto the hood of the car so I would have the high ground—and because I couldn’t fight while standing on a huge body. For a heartbeat, nothing was attacking me and I could look toward the bushes Sindari had indicated.

A cloaked and hooded figure stood beside a tree within them, a device gripped in a hand with pale white fingers. I didn’t have Sindari’s sense of smell but that did look a lot more like a vampire than a werewolf.

One of the hounds backed up, then took a running jump at me. Before he reached me, I leaped off the hood of the car, slicing Chopper into his flank as I went.

Another hound waited in front of the car, and I had to shift in the air, slashing my blade downward before I fell into its snapping jaws. Chopper flared bright blue, the light glinting off the creature’s eyes, and sliced through its fanged snout, cutting off the end like a guillotine beheading a criminal.

A yowl tore through the night, the first sign that these things felt pain—or maybe that was anger and indignation. I twisted to land beside the hound and shifted my blade to hack through the back of its neck. It pitched sideways, legs twitching, but the fight had gone out of it.

As another one surged around the car toward me, the crack of a gun went off not far from my head.

I swore. Weber hadn’t gone back inside.

The vampire jerked away from the tree, grabbing his shoulder. Weber fired twice more, bullets thudding into his target’s back. They clanged off some armor under the vampire’s shirt, but the first one had caught him, and he was still gripping his shoulder. It surprised me that the bullet had hurt him.

“You’ve made enemies of the wrong people,” the vampire snarled at Weber as he stumbled away, still clenching that control device. As he spoke, the hounds continued to harry me. “There are more of us than you think, weakling human.”

   
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