Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #2) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,69
the soft top on my last Jeep. The black one the army was lending me had a hard top, though I doubted it would deter dragon talons. Even though I couldn’t sense anyone magical nearby, I kept leaning my head out and trying to see the sky.
I caught a glimpse of Moss Lake off to the left but soon passed it, along with narrow trails branching off into the woods. I stayed on the wider path—given the density of the trees, there wasn’t any other option—until I came to a grass-choked crossroad, then turned right and gained access to a larger system of old roads. The rain picked up as I weaved along routes long forgotten by all but determined hikers and the wildlife that lived here.
When I got as close to the first cave as possible, I parked, put on a wide-brimmed rain hat, and went on foot. I cut my way through wet foliage, forging a path toward one of the creeks that ran through the area. Rain pattered off my hat, and the going was slow. My thought of checking all the caves Greemaw had marked by the end of the day turned into a plan to check them all this week.
The first one had been claimed by a skunk, and it drove me out of the area more effectively than a dragon would have. A bear had made a den in the second cave but was fortunately not home. The third was high on the bank of the Tolt River and too small for a dragon, unless he shape-shifted to get in. Since that was a possibility, I climbed up to it and shined my phone’s flashlight inside. Nothing.
“Three caves down, twenty-eight more to go…”
I’d searched all the ones in this area and would have to return to where I’d parked and head into the brush on the other side of that road. I was halfway back when gunshots fired.
Reflexively, I tore Fezzik from its holster and sprang behind a tree for cover. But my brain caught up to my instincts and informed me those shots weren’t near me. It was hard to tell how far away they were with the forest muffling sound, but at least a mile.
More shots fired as I continued warily back toward the Jeep. Hunters? If so, they weren’t very good hunters. Who needed that many shots to fell a deer? It wasn’t even hunting season. If anyone was back here, they were illegally poaching. Not that I particularly cared, so long as they didn’t shoot up my rig.
The gunfire continued, and the roar of vehicles grew audible. It sounded like I was heading right for it. I broke into a run, imagining drunk idiots smashing into my Jeep.
I leaped ferns, mushroom-studded logs, and great roots jutting out of the earth. I couldn’t wreck another vehicle in the same month, damn it.
Their trucks came into view before my Jeep did. A white Nissan and a black Ford, mud spattering the sides as they navigated down the old logging road. Men leaned out the windows and knelt in the beds, aiming rifles into the brush on the other side of the trail.
Just as I was thinking that any deer would have long ago fled at the noise, I sensed magical beings in the woods in the direction they were shooting. A half dozen of them at least. I couldn’t identify their species by the auras, but they seemed smaller than humans. More kobolds? Goblins?
Two shots fired, and a female scream came from the woods. That was no deer.
“Got one!” a man yelled.
I ran to the edge of the woods and leaned out enough to see the trucks. They’d stopped. The men—they were young and definitely human—sprayed fire into the trees.
A whispered argument in a language I didn’t understand came from the trail opposite me, and I spotted two green-skinned goblins with shaggy white hair also hiding behind trees. One was male, one female, neither more than four feet tall.
They pointed at the men, then pointed back into the woods in the direction the scream had come from. Neither of them appeared to have weapons. Clad in ripped and oversized jeans and flannel shirts, they reminded me of the refugees in Greemaw’s village. Their faces were lean, cheekbones prominent, and I doubted they’d had a good meal in a long time.
Even though I’d never met a goblin that hadn’t made trouble for me—the ones I’d run into were notorious for stealing things—I’d also