Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
So sometime between when we escaped and the last week, all of Azar’s men disappeared? Did they leave? It makes no sense.
It makes a little more sense as we continue forward, and at the front of the hotel there’s an old flagpole. The metal is burnt and discolored, a dark circle of char marking the concrete all around it. There’s ash everywhere, and old rusty-looking stains that are obviously blood. On the pole itself, I see handcuffs, just as charred and burned as everything else.
I wrinkle my nose. “I guess we found how he’s luring the dragons.” My stomach is a little queasy at the sight, because mixed in all that ash are human bones and the remains of people I talked to and lived around for a brief period of time. I try to find sympathy in my heart for them for the ugly fate they’ve suffered…but they were awful people. Nomads—especially Azar’s nomads—are rapists, murderers, and outcasts. It’s hard to feel pity for them, though no one should die like they did.
He waits inside, Zohr tells me, shifting on his haunches. His thoughts show me a picture of the big double doors of the hotel, and I’m not surprised to see that they’re still whole, the glass clean of ash. Azar likes tidiness, after all. Maybe that’s why he kept someone alive—as a glorified maid.
And the other? I ask Zohr. The other human we smell?
Inside, as well. I do not think either will come out, not if they have heard—or smelled—our approach.
“Then we go in after him,” I murmur. “Be ready to dragon out the moment you’re in danger, though. I don’t care how much of the building you take out with you.”
Zohr rumbles in amusement. Very well. As long as you are safe, I will “dragon out” as needed.
I unbuckle from my riding harness and slide off his back, thumping to the ground. My legs are a little wobbly after the long ride, and I stretch cautiously, looking around to make sure we’re not about to get jumped. My dragon noses me with affection, his thoughts full of love, and then in the next moment, I hear the clink of harnesses as they fall to the ground. Zohr steps out of them, all naked, bronzed god, and moves to my side.
I swallow hard. He’s very naked, and it’s not causing me to think filthy thoughts but worried ones. All of that gorgeous skin is unprotected in his human form. “You want to borrow my flak jacket, babe?”
No. He leans in and pulls me close, rubbing his nose against my jaw and neck. I would keep you safe at all costs.
I’m not thrilled about that, but it’s too late to turn around and get a second one. “Then stay behind me.”
His eyes flare. No. I will protect you.
“With what? Your fabulous skin tone? Your shining golden locks of hair?” I snort and wave a hand at my gun. “Sorry, babe, but this trumps all of your good intentions. I have the gun and the vest. I walk in front.”
Zohr glares at me.
I glare right back.
If you are in danger—
“Then we’re both screwed. But let’s not stand out here arguing this all day, all right?” I reach up and pull him down, impulsively giving him a quick, hard kiss. “Let’s do this.”
Then lead, if you must lead. He doesn’t sound thrilled.
He doesn’t have to be thrilled. That’s fine. I tuck my assault rifle under my arm and move forward, trying to be stealthy and quiet. It’s not so easy with my vest flapping against my clothing and the strap of the gun jiggling, but I do my best.
I move to the double doors and peer through the glass, trying to see inside. The lobby’s empty. No surprise there. The walls are covered in graffiti, but the floor is spotlessly clean. Huh. I pull the door open, gesture for Zohr to follow me, and in we go.
Inside, it’s quiet. I don’t hear anything at all. Smell anything? I ask.
The other human is that way, Zohr tells me, and points at a door at the far end of the lobby, behind the desk.
Let’s take him out first, I tell my dragon, and stealthily creep forward. There’s no one behind the desk, so I move to the door and then listen quietly. There’s a low snuffling sound, and I wrinkle my nose in surprise, trying to figure it out. What the hell is that?
Zohr has no idea, either. His thoughts are one big shrug.
I suppose we go find out, I tell him. Love you, babe. I send the thoughts with a fierce push and then fling the door open, stepping through with my gun.
Inside, the room itself looks like an office. Or it used to be an office. The desks have been pushed back against the wall and the floor itself has a few empty bunks comprised of sleeping bags. Titty magazines are neatly stacked in one corner, and there’s a half-empty water bottle next to them. On one bunk, someone lies with his back to the door. His shoulders shake and tremble, and he rolls over to look at us, his face wet.