Fire in His Blood(13)
I bite back the whimper of panic rising in my throat and let go of the chain to clamp my hands over my mouth. It's either that or I'm going to scream and give away my location. I'm halfway hidden in the ruins of this room, and maybe the broken cubicle walls that are scattered all over the place will disguise the fact that there's a small, vulnerable human crouching here. The walls and windows are broken memories of what they used to be, but I'm tiny, and this skyscraper is so very large. Maybe it won't see me if I don't make a sound.
A moment passes.
Two.
Three.
The wind is picking up, and I slide a hand over my loose hair, trying to keep it from blowing in the wind. No movement. Nothing that will cause a dragon to look in this direction-
The trumpeting returns, this time louder and far, far angrier. The flash of gold returns in the sky, not the peaceful pale gold of sunrise, but a deep, smoky amber. That strikes me as a far more dangerous shade of gold.
Suddenly, one of the red flags rips away from its moorings and flutters in the air, caught in the breeze.
My entire body freezes. I can't move.
Oh God. Oh God. I press my fingers to the edges of my lips, pinching them together to keep from making a noise. Don't scream, Claudia. Don't scream. Dontscreamdontscreamdontscreamdontscream. The golden shape in the sky circles the building, and I can hear the distant flap of wings.
I close my eyes again. If I keep them open, I'm going to see the dragon circling closer, chasing after those red flags. I don't want to look at it when it eats me. I just want to go fast. Please, please let me die fast and without too much pain. I think of my sister. Amy, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I hold my breath, and as I do, the ridiculousness of the situation loops through my head, over and over again. They wanted me to tame this thing. It's the size of an airplane, and they want me to tame it. Tame it. What the fucking fuck? Are they insane? I'm small, even by human standards, and underfed. What am I supposed to do? Ask it nicely to stop burning cities to ash? Hit its nose with a rolled-up newspaper when it misbehaves? Hysterical laughter bubbles in my throat.
To think that fencing a few old batteries earned me this. Hell, if I'd have known I was going to end up as dragon bait, I'd have stolen something really damn good.
The wind changes, and all of the laughter in my throat dies. There's a new scent in the air, the faint smell of char that's far too familiar, mixed with … something else. Something sweet, almost spicy, and definitely not human. The scent grows stronger, and I realize with horror where it's coming from. A shadow falls over the broken, open room, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
This is how I die.
A bone-jarring thump shakes the world.
I open my eyes and scream.
The dragon has arrived.
It crouches on the ledge of the building, framed between broken walls. It's a terrifying glory to behold-a mass of amber wing, vivid scale, and a massive, gaping mouth. The creature is enormous, easily the size of one of the broken city buses that scatter the streets below. The gargantuan wings beat twice, then fold in as it sinks to the floor on catlike haunches. A tail slithers back and forth, batting at rocks and bricks in agitation. A thin scar cuts across the long snout, and the dinner-plate-sized eyes are a beautiful, vibrant ringed gold with a black pupil. They're eerily human. The head of the dragon is triangular and bigger than a car, and the horned frill behind the head trails down to the mouth filled with sharp teeth as long as my hand, and nostrils that flare to catch my scent.
He can smell me, somehow. I know this even as the big head swivels and scans the room.
Oh fuck. Fuck. I'm going to die, and it's not going to be quick or painless, after all.
There's a living, fire-breathing, man-eating dragon less than fifty feet from me, and I'm chained to a pole like a bad, bad dog. The urge to shriek with fear rises in my throat, and I clamp harder on my mouth, the inside of it filling with warm, bitter saliva.
The creature's nostrils flare again, and the long, sinuous tail behind it flicks, knocking down the remainder of a broken window. Crouched on all four legs, wings folded in, the creature lifts its head and takes a step forward, toward my hiding space.
I try to bolt.
Instinct and adrenaline crash through me, and I fling myself out of my crouch and race for the stairs. There's no coherent thought left in my head, just fear.
It takes about two seconds for the cuff to bite into my leg, and another half second more before the momentum jerks me to the ground and I smack against the concrete with a loud, jarring thud. The breath is knocked out of me, and I flop onto my back, stunned.