Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Glancing up, he saw something black on top of one of the bales stacked near the ceiling. That wasn’t a kitten, was it? Concerned that it had gotten stranded up there, Brooks choose a good path and started climbing. By the time he reached the top, he could see that it was a black piece of cloth. Brooks sat down on a bale as he untangled the black material from the twine. He’d save someone else from making the climb to rescue a kitten.
From his perch at the top of the barn, Brooks could see both entrances. A man walked in and circled around the bales as if searching for something. The man’s posture and body language, even from above, alerted him that something was wrong. He shifted as quietly as possible to lie down out of sight.
“Did you see him come out?” a strident voice asked.
“I didn’t, but he’s not in here. He must have snuck out when you were distracted,” a second voice accused.
“Hey, I had to talk to the foreman when he approached. It’s not like I can say I’m too busy watching the dragon’s mate to hear what you have to say.”
“Whatever. We’re alone. What’s the update to the plan?”
“A supply of powder is coming in tomorrow as part of a shipment of gardening equipment. The guards are getting lax about checking all the crates, so it’s probable that they won’t detect it. And if they do, they’ll die.”
Immediately when he heard the word powder, Brooks messaged Rogan, sending a small burst of information when the man naturally paused, so he could continue listening. Barn. Two guys. Powder.
Brooks ignored Rogan’s burst of anger and concern to pay attention to the conversation.
“Then what? Did they figure out how to get rid of all the dragons at once?”
“Yeah. It’s brilliant.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
Brooks peeked over the edge. The two men stood almost directly below him, wearing hats. He couldn’t see their faces at all. Damn. Without recognizing their voices, he wouldn’t be able to pick them out of a crowd. Crossing his fingers, he hoped Rogan would get here soon. Movement at the door caught his attention, and Brooks descended stealthily from the bales.
“What’s going on here?” Rogan demanded.
“Sorry, sir. We were coordinating our jobs. We’ll get back to work now.” The spokesman and his collaborator turned to leave through the other door.
Brooks dropped to the ground in front of the other doorway to block it. “I don’t think so.” Without taking his eyes off the men, he called to the dragon shifter, “Rogan, there’s a plan to smuggle in powder in a shipment of shovels and stuff.”
“Your mate must have misunderstood. We were talking about grabbing the rakes to blend in the fertilizer for the next crops,” the same man said casually, like it was no big deal.
“How are you getting messages from outside Wyvern?” Rogan asked, strolling forward to keep the men in sight. “Where’s the powder coming from?”
“Nowadays, there’s no way to communicate with anyone outside Wyvern, sir. And powder? What’s that?”
“We definitely aren’t discussing fertilizer,” Brooks pointed out.
“Sorry, sirs. We’re confused and don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’ll excuse us,” the second man tried to edge around Brooks, obviously deeming him less dangerous.
Brooks braced an arm on the doorframe, blocking him. “I don’t think we’re done with you.”
The man moved so fast. In a split second, he had a knife at Brooks’s throat as he held him pinned against his chest. “I think you’re done with me. I’m going to walk out of here.”
“It’s a long way to the border,” Rogan pointed out. He sounded calm, but his eyes glowed red.
“I’ll take a horse and your mate to make sure you don’t get any ideas.” The other man sidled behind Brooks’s attacker to shield himself.
“You’re right that I won’t do anything to endanger my mate. You’ve forgotten that threatening or putting a dragon’s mate in peril is an act punishable by death,” Rogan pointed out.
“I can slit his throat before you can get to me. Then we both die.”
“Hey, let’s avoid anyone dying,” Brooks suggested. He tried to sound amused, but his voice sounded stressed, even to his own ears.
The knife blade pressed harder to his throat, and a prickle of pain stung his skin. “Shut up, mate,” his attacker spit out. The man made that word sound like a four-letter curse word.
The ground shuddered below their feet in three waves. Brooks recognized that sensation. Dragons had landed. The tremor rattled the two men. The one holding Brooks glanced around wildly.
Drop, Brooks. Now!
Brooks hesitated. A thin line of fire blazed past Brooks’s head. So close, Brooks could hear and smell his hair sizzle. His attacker screamed and shook. When the arm holding him relaxed, Brooks pushed the knife away and dropped to the ground. A second later, he heard a thump and the man’s knee hit his back. Brooks glanced over his shoulder to see a crumpled body lying behind him and the knife stained with his blood had dropped into the scattering of hay on the floor.