Bring the Heat
Page 12

Now they all looked down at him and stared. After a moment, the Dragon King looked up and his weak eye widened a bit. “What?” he asked.
“We should kill him here,” Zoya said. “Put him out of his misery.”
“I’d prefer you not,” he said simply.
“Quiet, penis-haver.”
He smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“We cannot kill him,” Tatyana immediately argued.
“So we should let him die in agony?”
“He is weak, but I would not say he is in agony,” Ivan noted.
“No one speaks to you,” Zoya snapped. “Useless boy.”
“We are not killing him,” Kachka cut in. “I know where we can take him for help.”
“It must be someplace close. We have maybe . . .” She glanced down at the dragon. “. . . two days. Possibly three. But that is stretch.”
Kachka looked up at the sky, studied the stars. “Two days . . . we can do. But we need to leave now.”
Zoya rolled her eyes. “What about boar?” she demanded.
“We will eat on way! Do not irritate me, Zoya Kolesova!”
Zoya grinned and patted Kachka on the back, nearly breaking the bone where her neck and spine met. “Do not worry, little Kachka Shestakova! I will help you take dying dragon to his final resting place! And everyone will say you at least tried!”
Marina stood next to Kachka, rubbing her forehead and watching as Zoya took the time to gather whatever gold and silver the now-dead slavers had on them. “I am so very glad she volunteered for this job.”
Kachka, unable to deal with this anymore, crouched beside the dragon again.
“Because you helped my sister when she needed it most, lizard, I will try to help you now.”
“You’ve already helped so much, Kachka. Because trust me,” he said, glancing at the priestess Kachka had killed, “wherever she was taking me . . . I was going to be in for a very long, very bad time.”
Chapter Four
They rode for two more days as Kachka used the suns and her own memory to guide her. For a Rider, two days on horseback was nothing, but watching the Iron King waste away before her eyes made the trip seem interminable.
He could barely even sit on the horse they got him, and was sometimes forced to lie facedown across the beast. A few times, she feared the dragon had stopped breathing.
The evening before they arrived at their destination, they had stopped for a few hours’ rest before the suns rose. Zoya had carried the dragon in human form to a spot near the fire they built, unceremoniously dumping him onto the ground.
Tatyana had hissed at her before surrounding him with everyone’s travel furs and using her own pack to support his back. Kachka hadn’t been able to tell if Tatyana truly felt bad for him, however, or if she was just dazzled by his rank.
Once he’d been settled, Kachka had sat down beside him and given him some of her water, putting the flask to his lips.
“I need you to do something for me, Kachka Shestakova,” he’d said once he’d gotten his fill.
“And what is that, lizard?”
He’d smirked, seeming to appreciate that she wasn’t treating him like he would surely die.
“Because of the power of this torc, I cannot reach my sister.”
“Yes. That thing you dragons do with your mind.”
“Right. So when I die, I want you to tell my sister. No one else.”
“Zoya Kolesova may already be treating you like a corpse, lizard, but I have not given up hope on you yet. You royals have a way of surviving when everyone thinks you should have died off long ago.”
“I know. But my father always taught me to prepare for the worst. And I don’t want Annwyl or, even worse, Rhiannon telling my sister about my passing. I am almost positive that the alliance we have between our people would not last.”
“And you think sending me will help?”
He’d reached out then and looped one of her curls around his index finger, studying it.
“Help?” he’d asked. “No. Keep Annwyl and Rhiannon away from my sister? Yes. But you have to give me your word, Rider.”
“I swear on my honor. But I am surprised you have so little faith in me, lizard.”
He’d managed a small smile. “Oh?”
“That you think I would just let you die so easily. You know my sister. She does like to whine. Like big baby. But you helped her adjust to her missing eye, and now she has loyalty to you. So unless I want to hear that whine . . . and I do not . . . then I must at least attempt to keep your disgusting scales healthy.”
“You’ve never even seen my scales. They’re quite beautiful.”
Kachka had curled her lip. “I bet they are slimy. Like snake.”
“Snakes are not slimy and I am definitely not slimy.”
“I did not say you. I said your scales.”
“I am my scales.”
“You should stay human all the time. You look much better as human.”
“Now you’re trying to make me angry.”
She’d smiled at that. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
That had been last night, though. When she’d had more hope. Now . . . now he wheezed as he sat upon the horse Kachka had chosen for him. His body was so weak in the saddle, the only thing keeping him up was Zoya riding beside him, one hand gripping her own reins, the other gripping his shoulder.
They stopped outside the back entrance to the cave that Kachka sometimes saw in her nightmares and stared at it.
“You want us to go in there?” Tatyana had asked. Questioning, she called it. Always afraid, Kachka called it.
“Yes. We’re going in here.”
They dismounted and lit torches, making their way into the vast darkness.
They traveled for quite a bit in silence. Kachka could hear the sounds of small animals moving around in the dark but nothing else.
So it wasn’t a sound that alerted her to another’s presence. It was the way the air around them abruptly changed.
Kachka had always been fast with a weapon, but she didn’t even have it pulled from her scabbard when she felt a blade press the flesh under her chin.
“Ah-ah-ahhh. Let’s not be hasty,” a voice ordered.
Kachka released the hilt of her weapon and lifted her hand.
“What are Riders doing in this cave?”
“I am here to see—”
“She’s fine,” a male voice called out from the darkness.
A word she did not recognize was whispered and torches lining both sides of the cave walls burst to life, revealing that their small group was surrounded. And probably had been for quite some time.
Something that was not lost on her fellow tribeswomen.
Moving around a boulder, sliding his blade back into its sheath, a male walked to Kachka and smiled at her.
“Kachka Shestakova.” Bold eyes moved over her. “I have to admit, I never really thought I’d see you again.”
“Abomination,” she replied, recognizing the only son of Annwyl the Bloody, Talan. “I see death has found you quite well.”
“Why are you here? And stop calling me Abomination.”
“Apologies, Abomination. I do not mean to upset. I need help.”