Hour of the Dragon - Heather Killough-Walden Page 0,62

with the momentum it afforded, she began sprinting down the alley. She was fleet, a halo of rapidly disappearing strawberry-gold hair beneath the glow of spitting snow and street lights. But a growl rose ominous and long from the depths of the beast within Antares, a sound that rumbled through the alley like a demonic sub-woofer, and Annaleia faltered, her steps slowing just enough.

Antares moved – a flash of innate short-distance dragon magic that bent space and time around him – and reappeared at the end of the alley, directly in Leia’s path. She cried out in surprise, her boots skidding slightly on the dampening ground. All three of his hearts beat hard, but his magic heart pounded, pumping the fuel through his system for whatever he may need to prevent his prey from escaping.

“We’re not finished,” Ares growled, no longer caring if his eyes glowed or his teeth showed. He stalked slowly, menacingly, and Leia backpedaled, one hand shoved into her jacket pocket, probably to get her phone. “How did you get those scars?” he demanded, his cosmic eyes glued to hers. “Who did that to you?” His voice was becoming progressively less human.

His body felt tight, as if it were trying very hard to hold something in that no longer wanted to be kept inside.

“What the hell are you….” Annaleia muttered, her own voice shaking. She took another step back and he followed her. She looked like her mind was moving a million miles a minute, her eyes skating between his hulking form and the end of the alley behind him and the walls on either side of them. They were too high to scale, for a human anyway. But he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t what they seemed.

“I’m asking the questions, Annaleia Faith. Answer me! Who hurt you?”

Leia slowed in retreating, and her focus steadied on his eyes. Something in her snapped, and once again, she demanded, “How the fuck do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you,” he told her. “At one time? I thought I knew everything.”

Leia’s brow furrowed, and for a brief moment the fear in her expression shared its space with uncertainty. She was clearly confused. But so was he. How could she not know who he was, even now?

“How did you get the scars, Faith?” He chanced another step toward her, but her fear was solid, and she widened the space between them in a hurry.

“None of your fucking business,” she told him between clenched teeth. “Why is everyone so obsessed with these goddamned scars?” she asked to no one in particular as she again looked around frantically.

And that was when he noticed the phone in her right hand. She had been going for it, just as he’d thought. He hadn’t noticed she’d pulled it out and begun using it because its protective case was matte black and she’d cleverly had the screen dimmed and pointed away from him. But for a split second in her scrambling, it tilted toward him in her palm. The low light winked at him and disappeared again.

Either her volume was turned completely off and she was in the process of calling someone, or she had already done so. If so, they knew enough to keep quiet on their end. He could probably assume they were already tracing her location and on their way.

He smiled, and when he did he felt his fangs pronounced and very, very visible. “That’s my girl. Clever as always. But it won’t do you any good, sweetheart. We’ll be long gone before anyone gets here.” And then he laughed. “And the cops wouldn’t know what to do with me anyway.”

“Cops for humans wouldn’t,” she told him in her same seething tone, “but I never bother calling them. You’re some kind of monster,” she breathed. “And monsters get to contend with wardens.” Her voice was shaking a little less now as she concentrated on formulating words – and buying time. “Do you have any idea what kind of wardens patrol the state of Texas?”

Ares was almost amused at her words and how on the money they all were. Some kind of monster indeed. In every sense of the word. And wardens? That was funny as hell too. Did he get extra points for being both?

But actually… she had a point. There were wardens in Texas, and they were indeed noteworthy. And if they happened on this scene, they might not realize fast enough that he was one of the good