Entrapment (Thor's Dragon Rider #3) - Katrina Cope Page 0,35
the beast did hear something or if it's just conducting a checkup, but the pupil-less eye seems too curious for comfort.
With careful concentration, I maintain a blank expression so that the monster can’t read my emotions. I’m still not sure just how smart these things are.
The cave around me lies motionless except for the disgruntled snorting of Elan. The efforts of the angels of death are laudable. Their ability to lie entirely still for so long while keeping the robust Beowulf stationary, protected, and quiet is a feat. The brazen Beowulf seems to have a short attention span, and he'll be itching to attack this monster. He doesn’t seem deterred that it’s much larger than a dragon.
Although the black-clothed angels are deathly still, I can’t abolish that stench of rotting corpses, and I hope the sulfur masks it from the monster’s sense of smell. Perhaps the molten material inside the beast destroys all scent. That would make sense.
The lava monster keeps peering down at us, and I make a show of sitting by Elan’s side and resting my head against her. My tension rises as time ticks by slowly, seconds seeming like hours as I return the gaze of the fiery monster. I hope the angels of death can keep still for a while longer. Stretching my legs out, I cross them at the ankles, hooking one boot over the other as I feign casual boredom.
The beast's attention lingers too long, and I fear that the monster has heard my visitors. Beowulf wasn’t exactly quiet a couple of times.
Picking up a rock from beside my leg, I throw it across the cave, allowing a deep grunt to escape with the effort. I do this a few times under the monster’s curious glare, making sure my grunts are deep enough to be a man’s.
Still sensing the glowing eyes on me, I stare into those pits and call out, “Did I disturb you?” I shrug and huff a laugh. “Sorry. I'm still here, and so’s my dragon.” I toss a few more stones, repeating the deep grunts.
Eventually, the lava monster pulls back, and the whole body shifts, causing rocks to fall on us as it covers the top hole and hangs its legs over the side entrance. Again, I block the stones from falling on the dark angels, who remain as still as death on the ground, and send the fallen rocks back to their original places, just as Gilroma taught me a couple of years ago.
When I’m sure we're no longer being watched, I whisper to the nearest angel, “I think it's all good now.”
His handsome face, framed with long black hair, gazes up at me with uncertainty in his eyes.
“You can move,” I whisper.
Slowly, the angels of death stand, their black eyes assessing the visible parts of the lava monster, ready to react again if need be.
Released from the embrace of the angels, Beowulf climbs to his feet. “These beasts are hideous.” A mischievous smirk fills his face, but he’s finally keeping his voice soft. “Now, there’s a challenge to defeat, even a little scary, but I'm willing.”
Shaking my head, I touch Beowulf on the back. “Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I’d rather sneak out than take on a monster from this realm.”
Ander approaches with the bearing of a leader. “As you can see, when we cover ourselves with our black wings, that hides us in this dark realm. It will be best if you and Beowulf ride your dragon in her invisible form. Many of us will hover around you both, with our wings spread. Hopefully, this will block the view of you sitting on your dragon.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Sounds risky.”
One half of Ander's mouth lifts into a wry smile. “And staying here is not?”
Thinking that I’ve accidentally insulted my rescuers, I quickly say, “Oh no, I didn't mean anything by it.” I rub an upper arm, pushing my eyebrows together. “Yes, you're right. Everything sounds risky.” My words come out in a rush.
There's something about these angels of death with their high, smooth cheeks, firm jaws, and tanned skin that makes me nervous when talking to them. Although they are the Valkyries' enemies, they are somewhat handsome, almost like each is the other half of a Valkyrie, her matching male rival. All the Valkyries are females, while the angels of death are all males. It's a shame the smell of corpses shrouds them.
Attempting to change my line of thought before I embarrass myself, I turn