Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“You’re not alone. I’m here with you. So is Rosie, your great-granddaughter. If family is important, that’s good, right?” I’m grasping at straws. It’s clear he’s out of strength and dying. His breath is very shallow and his mouth is hanging open. “I’m with you, Elias. I’m with you, Grandfather. You did good, right? You were a Dragon. You’ll always be a Dragon.”
I don’t know if my words penetrate. I don’t know if he understands them or if they help at all. I watch him struggle to breathe, and I watch his breathing stop, and I watch as his face goes slack and he leaves for somewhere else.
I watch Elias Thorne, the hidden Dragon, pass into what’s next.
I sit with him for a little while longer. Sadness rips into me, but I struggle to stay composed. Rosie doesn’t know what’s happening and I don’t want to upset her. But Grandfather is dead, which means there’s now one less Dragon in the world.
Is family enough? Can we commit crimes, do terrible things, kill and steal and maim, and pretend like we’re somehow justified so long as it’s for our family?
I don’t know. It feels like a terribly selfish way to live.
But then I look at Rosie and I wonder if I really give a shit about being good at all.
I’d burn the whole island and everyone on it if that meant keeping her safe.
I wipe my face and pull the sheets over Grandfather. It’s good I was here. I hope he was happy he got one last moment with us. It just feels like none of this is fair, like I was given a glimpse of a better life only for it to be ripped out of my hands.
My grandfather is gone. And my husband might be dead too.
What’s left for me?
I scoop Rosie into my arms, already prepared to head back to the apartment. I’ll stay in the bedroom with her and keep the tunnel door open. I’ll ask Lady to tell me if I need to run.
But before I can head out, the door suddenly clicks open.
I take a step back in alarm. I don’t know how many people are aware of the door code, but it can’t be many. I open my mouth, ready to ask Mass what he’s doing here—
When a different man strides into the room followed by several well-armed soldiers.
I stare at him. He stops and looks back.
Until a twisted smile splits his face.
“Well, looks like I found you after all, Allesandra. It’s good to finally meet you.” He scratches at a rough beard covering some brutal scars. He’s a big, bearish man. “My name’s Medved. The pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.”
ALLIE
Iscoop Rosie into my arms as Medved scans the room with a predatory gaze. It reminds me so much of Mass and the way he watches people, except there’s no sharp gleam behind Medved’s gaze. There’s only cold, terrible scrutiny.
“I take it I was too late.” He approaches the foot of the bed and lightly tugs the sheet, revealing Elias’s slack face. “Ah, my old friend. Dead at last.”
“Leave him alone. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
Medved only shakes his head. “I just wish I had been here in his final moments to see him through to the other side. Perhaps to shepherd him myself.” He grins at me, a twisted delight twinkling in his eyes for just a moment. “But here we are instead. What an interesting little coincidence, don’t you think?”
“You don’t need us anymore. Elias is dead.”
“Thank God for that.” Medved waves to Rosie. She cringes away. “Hello, little darling, remember me? Papa Medved? Yes, she remembers, look at how afraid she is. Lovely girl.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, turning Rosie away from him. “Just go away.”
“Ah, well, it doesn’t work like that.” He turns to the men behind him. “Fyodor, take the old Dragon’s hand, and make sure to keep any jewelry he’s wearing intact.”
A massive soldier slings his rifle onto his back and draws a long, thick knife from his belt. “Yes, Pakhan.”
“What?! No, you can’t!” I jump in the soldier’s way, but he doesn’t even hesitate. He slams a fist into my face, knocking me over. I curl into a ball to protect Rosie from any other blows that might rain down on me, but the soldier simply goes right to his task.
I barely manage to keep from throwing up as he brutally hacks Elias’s left hand off.
“Ugly old thing,” Medved muses once it’s done. Blood drips from the severed wrist and stains the white sheets in thick clots. “But necessary.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I need proof that the old man is dead. I could take his head if you prefer, but that would make such a mess, and my men are already tired as it is.”
“You’re sick.”
“No.” Medved’s smile fades. “This system is sick. This world is sick. I’m the only sane one left. When I’m Dragon, I’ll devote myself to ripping it all to shreds. I’ll burn it all and build something new in its place.”