Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #2) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,51

to be called by name was contrary.

To him, you are a lesser being.

A lesser being with a name.

“It’s Val,” I told Zav. “Or Ms. Thorvald if you prefer formality in our relationship.” That ship might have sailed sometime after I discussed ass-kissing with him.

“I am aware of your name, battle maiden.” One of his eyebrows twitched. Had he been eavesdropping on my conversation from over here? How rude. “I did not know if Greemaw would be.”

“Greemaw, I’m Val.” I lifted a hand. “You’ve met me before. And my mother.”

“Yes,” Greemaw rumbled. “Is she well?”

“I think so.” I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d gone back to her house to pick up Willard’s cat. It did feel strange to be here outside of her town without calling, but… with more people than ever gunning for me, I didn’t want anyone to know about her. Especially if others here had ears as effective as Zav’s at eavesdropping.

“Good. Please show me the map.”

“Right.” I dug out my phone, chose the satellite map view, and adjusted the screen to show the three points where joggers had gone missing. As soon as I lifted it to show Greemaw, someone who could have held six phones in her palm, I felt silly. How were the eyes of a thousand-year-old golem? Did they work like human eyes? Could she see the screen decently? There was no way she would be able to manipulate it with those giant stone fingers.

Greemaw looked at Zav, as if waiting for him to explain it.

“You can’t make it larger?” Zav asked.

“I can zoom in, but then we wouldn’t be able to see all the points. Sorry, I didn’t have time to get a physical map.”

“I meant the device it is displaying on.”

“Uh, no. I can’t will my phone to double in size.” That would have been handy. Or a way to project the screen holographically. I looked at Greemaw apologetically. “This was an impromptu trip.”

Zav took the phone from my fingers without asking—I resisted the urge to yank it back, though I feared he would hurl it into a rock wall out of some frustration for the stupidity of human technology. Or vermin technology as he could call it. But I hadn’t seen him truly angry since we first met, when he flung my Jeep into the treetops.

He studied the screen, then handed it back to me and crouched, resting his palm in the dirt.

Back up, Sindari warned me.

I glanced around, making sure nobody had a gun aimed at me.

Because of dragon magic, not assassins, he added, his telepathic tone dry.

There’s a difference?

Innocent bystanders can be taken out by both.

I scooted off to the side of Greemaw’s alcove and stood beside Sindari. Zav hadn’t moved, but I could sense him doing something.

The packed earth rippled and shifted, as if it were water instead of dirt. Parts rose up to form tiny mountains while others sank to show valleys and gullies with rivers flowing through them. Flat sections represented farmlands, and tiny dots the buildings in the towns of Bothell, Woodinville, and Duvall. About six feet by six feet, the map was impressively detailed and much larger than what displayed on my phone screen.

“Show me again the locations the humans disappeared,” Zav said, rising, the fine dirt on his hands trickling away and leaving them clean, even though he didn’t dust them off.

This guy does not know how to say please, I thought to Sindari. “Right away, Lord Dragon.”

Zav’s eyes narrowed and glowed violet.

Val… Sindari warned. Why do you not simply accept that he is extremely powerful and should be respected, if only because he can squash us like insects?

Because power isn’t what makes someone deserving of respect. I pointed to Zav. “See, isn’t it better to be called by name? You call me Val, and I’ll call you Zav.”

“My name is Lord Zavryd’nokquetal.”

“My tongue would fall out if I tried to say that.”

“How unfortunate that would be.”

I grinned at him before I could catch myself. Maybe it was petty, but having Lord Zav-butt getting snarky with me felt good. Like I was rubbing off on him. Or he was becoming more human. A thought which would surely make him projectile vomit.

The grin must not have been the response he expected, because for a split second, a flustered expression crossed his face. It disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.

He walked over, took the phone from my hand again, and pressed the button to turn the screen on—I was impressed he knew