Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #2) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,113
this duty along with two other soldiers from Willard’s office, waited on the landing.
“I’d offer to help, but the colonel said you personally requested to unload her dumbbell set.” He smirked, his dark brown eyes twinkling.
“She said to make the forty-something woman carry the heavy weights while you strapping youngsters carry shoeboxes?”
“You’re forty-something, Thorvald? That can’t be right.”
“I’ve got a young face.” The dumbbells were putting a strain on even my half-elven forearm muscles, so I passed him and headed into the apartment. It had a higher ceiling than the last one, with an overhead fan stirring the warm summer air. Here in Seattle, that counted as the air conditioning.
As I set the weights down on the rack in the living room, Clarke walked in, his fitted brown T-shirt showing off his bulging biceps as he carried in a flat-screen television. He winked again and hefted it up and down—either demonstrating how heavy the burden was or demonstrating the curve of his biceps—before settling it on the stand. After Clarke removed the blanket protecting the TV, he sidled over to me.
“Val, I’ve been meaning to ask…” He wriggled his eyebrows flirtatiously. “Can I see your tiger?”
“I thought you were going to make a pass at me.”
“Nah, you’re not my type.”
I was fairly certain it wasn’t because of my age.
“I’ve heard your tiger is amazing,” Clarke added, “but I’ve never gotten to see him.”
“Willard doesn’t like me to take him out in her apartment. She has a cat.”
A yowl came from the bedroom, as if Maggie was listening and had an opinion on this subject. That was possible, though she’d been yowling all morning. Probably protesting that the door to freedom was open, but she was locked behind bars in her cat carrier. From what I’d heard, she had already escaped twice from the apartment and down to an active bird feeder in a picnic area for the tenants. She’d been wooed back with canned tuna fish.
“We could do it on the landing out there. I’ve never seen a tiger up close. We don’t have them in Jamaica. No lions or panthers either.”
“You sound disappointed, but after the week I’ve had, I assure you that’s a selling point.” Maybe if I saved up like Nin, I could buy a house there and retire.
Clarke looked confused, but only for a second, before enlightenment dawned. “Ah, yes. I heard about the neighborhood you demolished in Bothell.”
“I had help.” I waved for him to follow me onto the landing, then touched my charm and summoned Sindari.
Another battle so soon? Sindari looked up and down the walkway and then out to the parking lot.
“No. One of Willard’s soldiers wants to see you.”
To see me? Sindari turned to face me, his green eyes judging. You interrupted my stalking of the delicious yerboka so some tourist can gawk at me?
“Oh, he’s completely dope,” Clarke said.
Completely what? Sindari asked.
Don’t ask. Out loud, I said, “Dope? Does that rate higher or lower than dank?”
That had been Dimitri’s adjective for Sindari.
“Dank? Who said that? He’s not a dub bag of weed.”
I do not understand the language this man is speaking, Sindari told me.
I know. Me either. Just look regal for him for a minute, and then you can go back to hunting.
He may not touch me.
Feeling persnickety today?
A yowl of complaint came from the bedroom.
“What is your tiger doing here?” Willard asked, coming up the stairs on the way back from the recycling bin. “You know Maggie doesn’t like him.”
“I know. That’s why we’re outside. Clarke wanted to see him.”
Maggie yowled.
“Maggie knows he’s here.” Willard frowned.
“Maggie was complaining even before he showed up,” I said. “Does she like the new place? Should I have brought a housewarming gift for your cat?”
“You didn’t bring one for me.”
“Because I’m here doing manual labor for you. That’s a gift that few receive.”
“Uh huh.” Willard pointed to the moving truck. “Lots more waiting in there for you, Corporal.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clarke smiled, told me thanks, then slid a hand along Sindari’s back as he descended the stairs.
The presumptuousness! Fortunately, Sindari glared at me instead of biting off Clarke’s hand.
A neighbor came out of one of the apartments above, and I shooed Sindari inside. “You better stay out of sight, so Willard’s neighbors don’t think she has weird visitors. I’ll be right back.” As I jogged down the stairs, I silently added, And don’t scent-mark any of the furniture, or I’ll ask Corporal Presumptuous to come back up here and rub his hands all over you.