Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
“Oh shit,” Hadriel said softly.
Vemar shoved to get past. “He’s going to go for her.”
Too late.
Micah was closer, he was pissed, and she was his target.
Chapter 26
Aurelia
The dragon roared as he ran at me. That big fucker probably moved fast when he wasn’t sick and drugged out. He might’ve moved faster than me before I had an animal. Now I could catalog his jerky movements, his halting steps. He was trying to move in as straight a line as possible, but his body was off. He wasn’t doing great. That product was either shit, or he’d taken a lot of it. He’d need some cure-all.
But first he needed to chill the fuck out.
He appeared with his sticks held out, probably forgetting they were in his hands. The bitch was, he wouldn’t fit into the closet with those stupid things swinging.
“Aurelia, no,” Weston yelled, terror in his voice.
I ignored that as the big dragon bore down on me. He bent with his mouth open, as though he was trying to eat my face or something. You never knew with a bad journey. People got some crazy ideas.
I feinted to the side, knowing he wouldn’t buy it and would assume I’d dodge the other way. There weren’t many options for an opponent his size. I, however, wasn’t his size, and planned to use it to my advantage. He stepped toward my feint, saw I didn’t go through with it, and stretched out the other hand to capture me.
I ducked and rolled through his long legs. I clipped one of them as I did so, making his knee bend. His weight shifted dramatically, an effect of the product, and he fell forward. His shoulder slammed into the edge of the door, and those fucking sticks hit the frame.
At his back, I grabbed his arms and twisted, bending them behind him. He struggled—and so did I. He was fucking strong. Really fucking strong.
“Fuck,” I grunted, hurrying, trying to get those damn sticks out of the way so I could get his big, dumb body into the closet.
“I got him, I got him!” Vemar came running. He punched one of Micah’s fists, forcing the other dragon to drop a stick.
Weston was at the other side, shoving me away. He grabbed the dragon’s other arm and continued twisting it, ripping out the pool stick and bending it behind the dragon. He waited for Vemar to bend the other arm, all of them struggling.
“What do we do with him?” Vemar yelled.
“Shove him in and shut the door.” I shoved all of them. “Get in there, dragon. Time for night-night. Get the fuck”—I shoved all of them harder—“in your cave. Sleepy time. Get into your fucking cave, you bastard.”
Micah roared, but Weston and Vemar had him, the three of them half falling forward as I rammed them from behind. They shoved the dragon in, then backed out fast.
“Shut the door,” I yelled, though Weston was already grabbing it. “Night-night, dragon. Go to sleep in your cave on your piles of gold.”
Weston swung the door closed and leaned his shoulder against it, pushing hard. Vemar joined him, his back to the wood, applying all his weight.
The dragon roared and thumped within. Thank the fucking gods Raz hadn’t been a dragon. That would’ve made my life much, much more dangerous.
“Is there a key?” I asked through labored breaths.
“No.” Weston eyed the door. “No key. What do we do?”
“Get a chair to brace against it. That’s all he needs—the small, dark space is going to send a signal to his brain that it is sleepy time. He’ll get drowsy, probably get enraged, because dragons are clearly nuts, stomp around, and bash things, but eventually he’ll quiet.”
“He’s strong enough to get through that door,” Nyfain said, coming up behind us.
“He won’t.” I motioned for Hadriel to grab the chair to my right. “Products that cause this reaction cut down on thinking ability. My old coworker could’ve just walked out the back door at any time. Instead, he stayed in the supply closet, sometimes smashing all my stuff and writing mean things about me on the walls, until he drifted into a stupor. When he woke up, he left. I don’t advise waiting that long with this guy. He didn’t look good. He needs help. Wait until he quiets—maybe another twenty minutes after that for him, actually—and then inject him, if at all possible. Then get out again. If you have to use liquid, go slow. Coax him to swallow. Or maybe just call me. I can work with him after he calms down. I can probably get him to swallow just fine. Once he’s out of it, he’ll probably just knock on the door and ask to be let out.”
More than one person was blinking at me.
“How . . .?” Finley shook her head slowly, looking at the closet door. The dragon was in there howling, banging on the wall, tearing down whatever was left from the shelves. “How could you possibly know how to . . . do that? Create a drug that operates one way in one situation, and then another way in another situation?”