Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #2) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,29
over his shoulder.
“Oh.” I followed him through a secret door and into a dark tunnel. “In that case, you shouldn’t have been upset about the BMW-lumberjack calling you later.”
“He wanted to call you.”
“You’re the one he gave five dollars. Maybe he swings both ways.”
I couldn’t even interpret the third look. I touched my charm and summoned Sindari, more because I needed a rescue from my bumbling half of the conversation than because I expected another tarantula.
Dimitri had reached the door to Zoltan’s abode, but he waited while the tiger formed.
Is it time for another battle? Sindari asked as soon as he solidified.
I hope not, but be prepared. We’re visiting Zoltan.
I see Dimitri is better armed this time. Sindari wandered up and sniffed the canvas grocery bag with avocados, bananas, and strawberries on the side. This smells like lilacs and rattlesnake venom.
That’s what you get when you carry stuff for an alchemist.
“Sorry I don’t have any cat food.” Dimitri knocked on the door.
Cat food! Sindari glared at me. Does he believe I would eat mush made for small domestic felines?
“Sindari doesn’t need to eat while he’s in our realm,” I informed Dimitri. “But if he were to eat, it would be a steak, not a can of cat food.”
A steak? I would prefer the steaming bloody liver from a fresh kill. A zebra or a syrentitops, perhaps. Yes.
You and Zoltan should get along well. He’s into steaming blood too.
The door opened before Sindari could respond, and the red glow of the laboratory’s infrared lights flowed out into the tunnel.
“Ah, my robber and my business partner.” Zoltan was dressed in a sharp gray suit with a white button-down shirt and red bowtie. “Excellent timing. I’m working on a project you can help me with, Dimitri.” His dark eyes narrowed as he regarded me. “And perhaps you can help me test it when it’s complete.”
“Lucky me.”
Dimitri walked in after him but only took a few steps before staring at a pile of circuit boards and metal parts on the floor. “Is that it?”
“It will be.” Zoltan strolled to a counter that had been full of chemistry equipment the last time I’d been here. Now it held welding tools and a giant metal…
“Is that a spider head?” I asked.
“A fused head and thorax, yes.” Zoltan beamed. “I am replacing my biological tarantula with a robot version that I will infuse with alchemical power. It will be a superior defender of my humble abode. It also will not smell of spiders, and it will make less of a mess if it’s destroyed.” His pleased expression transformed into one of utter distaste. “You do not know how long it took me to get rid of the smell and the stains. And the carcass itself.” He flattened a palm to his chest and shook his head. “I had to drag the body way out to that trail back there. I couldn’t leave it to decompose near my home, or there would have been all manner of rodentia swarming the area.”
“So it’s decomposing on one of the most popular riding trails in town?” I asked.
“I believe some park rangers came one morning and discreetly disposed of it. Thankfully. That whole incident was dreadful. I should have you slain on principle for leaving such a vile mess.”
I rested a hand on Sindari’s back. “I knew I was wise to come with allies.”
Zoltan looked to where Dimitri had fallen to his knees in front of the parts and was already sorting them like someone prepared to build a LEGO structure. “I believe that is my ally.”
“Oh no. I put on a dress and sold metal doohickeys for him all afternoon. He’s definitely my ally.”
“Doohickeys?” Dimitri threw me an aggrieved expression. “Art, Val. Functional, magical, and aesthetically pleasing art.”
“Zoltan,” I said, “I was wondering if you could look at a few things for me.”
“Is our deal not complete? Pardon my rudeness, Ms. Thorvald, but you are not welcome among the magical community, and as you can tell, I haven’t quite forgiven you for removing my loyal guardian from me.”
It sounded like it was more the mess that had aggrieved him than some fondness for the giant tarantula.
“Today, I sold four tins of your Scorpion Stinger, two of the Fount of Youth skin rejuvenator, and nine bars of your no-more-ingrown-hairs ox-horn shaving soap.”
“Please, come tell me what you need.” He flashed his fangs at me and patted the counter beside him.
Keeping a wary eye on those fangs, I pulled out my purloined