Sinister Magic: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #1) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,6

it, things didn’t improve much, but I steered down it as fast as I could.

Branches blotted out much of the sky above me, but not so much that I didn’t see that big black body following me. Easily keeping pace.

“Idiot, idiot,” I chanted to myself. Why hadn’t I heeded Sindari’s wisdom?

A flat straight stretch opened up, and I pressed the accelerator. How far to Highway 101? Seven miles? Eight? An eternity? Yes.

The branches overhead grew less thick, and I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t see anything in the mirrors, but he was up there.

A roar blasted the air right above me, louder than a foghorn. Talons slashed through the soft top of the Jeep, plunging in like daggers. Like swords.

I jerked low in the seat and hit the brakes. A thunderous ripping filled my ears. The dragon’s momentum carried him past, but he took the top with him.

“Hard top,” I muttered. “Should’ve gotten a hard top.”

As he turned, maneuvering his massive body between the trees to come back for me, I hit the accelerator again. I wasn’t going to make it past him. There was no way.

More agile than anything that large should have been, he rose above me and then dove, arrowing straight toward the driver’s seat.

I jerked down as low as I could while still holding the wheel. The Jeep lurched off the side of the road, underbrush tearing at the fender. The dragon grabbed its frame and lifted.

When the wheels were pulled off the road, I was so startled that I couldn’t do anything but react. I sprang out the open window, almost getting my scabbard caught on the frame, as the dragon lifted my Jeep higher and higher.

My shoulder hit the ground first, hard, and I rolled into the undergrowth, crashing into a tree with a blast of pain. I sprang up, yanking Chopper free.

As powerful as Fezzik’s bullets were, they hadn’t done as much as I expected against the wyvern. I was afraid they’d be useless against the dragon. All I could hope was that Chopper, the longsword reputedly made in another world, could cut through scale. Because there was nowhere else to run. All I could do was defend myself—or die trying.

The dragon spun and hurled the entire Jeep into a thick stand of old-growth trees. The wrenching crash that thundered through the forest was the most horrific noise I’d ever heard. I couldn’t help but gape as the four-thousand-pound Jeep stuck. It was wedged between three great trees and twenty feet off the ground.

Branches snapped as the dragon dropped to the road not ten feet away from me. He landed on all fours, wings spread and powerful muscles rippling under his black scales. The icy violet eyes bored into my soul, and I saw my death.

I hefted my sword, determined to go down swinging, even as I backed into a copse of trees and hoped in vain that he wouldn’t be able to reach me with that big body.

He shifted back into his human form, and I groaned. How had I forgotten he could do that?

As he advanced with deadly intent, I muttered, “I am so screwed.”

3

“Listen, dragon,” I said as he strode toward me with murder in his eyes. Could he understand English? I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of my plight. “I know you wanted to take that wyvern somewhere, but she was my assignment. She killed a bunch of humans, and my people wanted her dead, not rehabilitated, whatever the hell that means.”

The dragon stopped outside of my sword range, eyeing Chopper briefly—dismissively—before locking his cold gaze on me again. He didn’t have any weapons, but I’d already seen him tear thousand-pound rocks apart and hurl that wyvern across the cave with his mind.

“I don’t know when you got your assignment,” I went on, very slightly encouraged that he’d stopped, even if it was only to glare venomous daggers at me. “But I got mine two weeks ago. She was the last of three wyverns that attacked children here in Oregon, and she was mine to take down. I…” I what? I’d run out of things to say. Did the dragon even understand? “I had dibs,” I finished weakly, as if we were squabbling over a toy on a playground.

“You are a bounty hunter?” the dragon asked in his resonant voice. His resonant scornful voice.

I had a feeling he didn’t often talk to the people he was about to slay.

“No. I work for the army.”

“You are a soldier?”

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