More than that. He'd looked at me with intelligence in his gaze. He spoke to me.
Who-or what-was he?
I'm glad he's gone, but I'm full of questions. Is he a shapechanger? Is this one not really a dragon and that's why he's not in pattern with the others? Or are they all shapechangers?
Oh god. Can all of them speak? Are they all intelligent? It's never even crossed my mind that they might be smart underneath all that viciousness. I've thought of them more like … sharks or snakes or some other nasty predator. I've never considered there might be a person underneath it all. That makes the destruction and rampage all the worse.
And yet … the man-dragon I met didn't kill me. He hadn't even hurt me. He'd touched me, and when I told him no, he pulled away.
He was almost kind.
Almost.
Is this how the girl from Fort Orleans tamed a dragon? She met him as a human? I think about the man-dragon and his really, really naked body with his really, really big equipment and the really, really possessive look in his eyes. I'm pretty sure he didn't want to play checkers with me. Did … did the Fort Orleans girl 'tame' the dragon with sex?
Was that what they expect me to do?
Are they fricking crazy?
I can do a lot of things to save my hide, but I'm not sure I can do that.
I take a few steps forward, scanning the skies for a flash of golden wing. Nothing. He's gone, then. He might be gone for good. I've possibly missed my window of opportunity to 'tame' him with my vagina. Yeah, not like I was planning on doing that. Besides, Fort Dallas and its citizens sure were quick to throw me to the dragon. I don't plan on helping them ever again.
All I care about is Amy and Sasha. I need to get free from here, retrieve them, and then figure out what to do next. Maybe we can hightail it down to Fort Orleans. Maybe we can hide out in a safe place and wait for a brave nomad or two to swing through the area again and hitch a ride with him. As long as I have a plan of action, I'm good.
And none of my plans involve sitting around here waiting for another dragon to come by.
I move to the pole that I'm chained to and tug on the cuff binding me there. Still solid. Damn. That sucks. I was hoping I'd missed something in my panic. Guess not. I stare at the cuff on the pole and then look around for something to use as a saw. I find a long, thin piece of metal as wide as my finger and grab it. It won't work as a lockpick or a saw, but I jimmy it in between my ankle and my cuff and push against the two, hoping to somehow stretch the metal. It's a long shot, but it's what I've got. My ankle's bleeding and the cuff gets slippery, but I keep going. There's no option to stop. I have to get out of here.
I have to get back to Amy.
As I work, I can't stop thinking about the dragon. The guy. Whatever. I had no idea they were human … or could pose as human. I try to think-have I seen anyone in Fort Dallas with golden hair, golden skin, and golden eyes? I don't think so. But if the dragons have a human side, maybe we can communicate with them and ask them not to attack the city.
Then again, why do I want to save the city? Those assholes left me for dead. A friend sold me out. The guards didn't help me. The mayor thought I was a piece of shit criminal. No one's on my side. I rub my ankle, smearing blood everywhere. To be fair, the captain hadn't been happy to leave me up here.
To be fair, it was also his idea. He'd still offered me up like a sacrificial lamb. So screw him.
A sharp stab of pain moves up my leg, and I pull the piece of metal free, gazing at my handiwork. I think I'm doing the opposite of helping, because now my ankle is swelling. Well, crap. I toss the metal aside and sigh, staring out at the wasteland of what used to be an office building. There won't be any knives or saws here. If I'm lucky, I'll find a stapler. And then what? Threaten to staple the dragon to death if he comes back? Frustrated, I thump down onto my butt and stare out at the trashed ruins. The dragon's gone, but I'm still screwed. I can't get free, and no one's left me a canteen of water or a bite to eat.
They didn't expect me to survive.
I think about Amy and Sasha. They'd have been waiting for me to bring home a score, because we were broke and there were no food supplies left. We had no one to turn to to help out, either. In Fort Dallas, there are only a few ways to feed a family if you don't have a male protector that can work in the militia. You can scavenge, which is against the law, or you can whore, which is, ironically, not against the law. Sasha has a 'friend' in the militia who she trades favors with, even though she hates him. It keeps her from having to trade favors with a lot of friends, though, so she puts up with it. I've spared Amy from the worst. With her bad leg, she can't scavenge. She barely leaves the broken-down school bus hull we call our 'house.' She'll wait for me to come back … and then what? Go to the soldiers herself? See if Sasha knows of another friend that needs favors?