Page 39 of Bonding Beasts (Bonding: The Ultimate Guide #3)

She sounds so matter-of-fact that precious seconds tick by before Mike and I piece it together.

“Shit,” we say simultaneously.

“We’ll know how bad it is if they follow us over the line,” she says as if talking about the weather.

“Keep us downtown, Beatrice,” I call out. “The more deserted, the better.”

“On it,” she calls back. “Mike, would you check the glove box? There might be a gun in there.”

“A gun?” he squeaks in surprise, and then there’s the sound of shuffling around and the pop of the box. “There’s a paper map in here. Who uses those?”

“Mike? Gun?” Beatrice raps out. The truck increases in speed, and she yanks the wheel. I would have been thrown out if I wasn’t wedged into the vehicle's bed.

“Shit!” Mike exclaims. “No gun! And please don’t kill us!”

“No promises,” Bees sings out, and she sounds so much like Kimi that I wince. We’re going to die, Mike. I’m sorry I came to save you.

“Mal, deserted part of town coming up in three minutes, two vehicles behind and gaining on us.”

How in Duat is this the same female as earlier. Where is the anxiety-ridden bundle of fear I’m becoming familiar with? I thought she would need to be coddled and treated gently.

“Two minutes.”

The three faeries pull their swords and fly out, catching in the wind gracefully, unnoticed. Four more pass by in a blur. They must have been hiding underneath the truck.

“One. ”

I can hear the engine behind us now, a Human vehicle by the stench.

It gains quickly and revs up to slam into the tailgate. I can’t see the top of it from my wedged position, so it’s a smaller car.

I suppose the truck's age makes them think their vehicle can overtake ours. But this truck is obviously a war horse in its own right and takes the hit without buckling, sliding back and forth for a moment until Beatrice regains control.

I inhale deeply and build a fire up, almost releasing it prematurely as we are hit again.

“Now.”

I rear up and see two Humans, their mouths dropping open at my appearance. One is half hanging out of the car with a gun. Sucks to be you, Human.

I hear a screeching of tires behind the first vehicle and the boom of a crash. I feel a grin twist my lips and release the dragon fire stored in my chest.

The Human gets a shot off before it hits the hood and sprays up over the glass, quickly melting through to the sounds of panicked screaming.

It spreads wildly, nipping the Human’s arm and voraciously spreading at the contact.

The vehicle careens to the side, striking a building at full speed, and the flaming male is thrown into the bricks as we speed away.

“Mal, are you ok?” Now her voice is filled with tension, fear for me overriding her calm. I would be baffled, but all I feel inside is a sweet victory.

As the car crash disappears around a tire screeching corner I roar out in warning to anyone within earshot as we speed past buildings.

These people are mine . I don’t try to filter through all of that in my elation.

I just bask in finally, finally , having something to fight for. To choose to fight for .

“Mal! Come here!” Beatrice yells out over the wind. Like a simpering fool, I hurry back to the window and press my face through. It’s a tight fit. I can’t contain my grin.

She double-takes at my sudden appearance, removing her eyes from the road long enough that Mike squeaks and clutches his backpack to his chest. She grins at me and taps her head against mine with a “Great job, Mal!”

My shoulder twinges in pain as I press against the glass, and my tail sways wildly behind me in pleasure. It’s nice to actually be appreciated.

“Is no one concerned with the death and mayhem we just left behind?” Mike’s voice is tight and high as he asks.

“No,” Beatrice and I reply simultaneously, and my grin spreads wider.

“Okay then,” his voice becomes small and meek.

“It’s a hard adjustment, I know,” Beatrice explains gently as she speeds through back streets and alleys with the confidence of a race car driver instead of a simple fear-ridden female. “But if it wasn’t them, it would have been us . I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders drop, and tension fills her face as she considers her words. The heavy, sharp scent of guilt and sorrow begins to waft off her skin.

Before I can comment, the twinge in my shoulder becomes a quick lance of pain.

I pull my head back to eye it and find a hole slowly forming, the scales around it beginning to react as if burned away. I guess the Human didn’t miss with his weapon after all.

The burning sensation spreads in a broader circle to continue eating my scales. Whatever this is, it isn’t a bullet. That would have bounced off harmlessly. What was in that gun ?

“Mal? You ok?” Beatrice’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and she misses that the light before her turns red. However, Mike doesn’t, and his frightened squeal brings her attention back to the road.

Feeling lucky I didn’t just become a splatter on pavement, I say, “I’m good. Where are we going?”

“Uptown. All the richie-riches have that enclosed parking shit. We need to get rid of the truck closer to the mansion in case anyone pieces together who you are. If they haven’t already.”

Huh.

As we continue speeding along, I reassess the female in front of me with a frown. We get uptown, and she slows to the exact speed limit, never wavering and stopping at each red light completely.

We draw a lot of attention as we make our way. A Human truck belching smog with Humans inside and a dragonkin in the back? Tongues will wag, that’s for sure. She’s making our presence a display for everyone to witness.

The pain has spread to my chest, and I lie back and breathe through it, waiting for us to reach a stop to ask for assistance. I don’t have very long to wait.

Shade covers me as we enter a car park and make several tight left-hand turns. She parks between two large vehicles, hiding the truck from ready view, and hops out with the keys jangling in her hands.

“We’re gonna’ have to walk, Mike,” her accent is strong as she leans over the truck bed to look at me. “ Shit! Mal, why didn’t you say something?!”

It hurts enough that I don’t even snarl at her sharp voice. I continue to breathe evenly and open my eyes to squint at her. I close my eyes again and tune out both voices as Mike panics.

The tailgate drops, and I stretch my legs out fully for the first time in what feels like hours. The bed rocks as Beatrice climbs in with me, trying not to touch me, but with my bulk, there’s no point.

I hear her murmuring to me and my name several times before her hands rest on my abdomen. It would please me if I wasn’t trying my best not to writhe in agony.

It’s everywhere across my chest and inside my skin, eating me away with a cold burn that turns frighteningly numb after every layer it consumes.

The pain stops, and I allow myself to drift as she sets to work, relaxing into the embrace of her magic. I could swear I feel it as it gently nudges everything back into working order. It takes longer than I thought it would. Maybe I waited too long to say something.

I open my eyes when I feel her hands draw back, and the sensation returns to my chest. She looks paler, the rings under her eyes darker than before, and she’s sweating despite the chilled air. My brow furrows in concern. She’s pushed herself too far.

“You feel alright?” I’m her sole focus as Mike gapes at her with awe.

“Yeah,” I gruffly answer and sit up, clearing my throat in embarrassment.

“Let me know if it starts to hurt again, just in case,” she pushes, and I make a noncommittal noise as I slide out of the truck bed. I hesitate, then turn to offer her a hand out.

She’s already hopped over the side and comes around to join us.

Mike drops his bag and swiftly wraps his arms around me, his fingers nowhere near touching on the other side.

“Um, do I need to give you guys a minute?” Beatrice’s eyebrows shoot up as she eyes us, ready to walk away from the public display.

I give her a withering look as my shoulders relax, tension flowing out of me at the physical contact .

“What? No!” Mike snaps. “Get over here and hug him!”

“No,” she says, aghast at the notion, her eyes flicking to him in surprise.

“It makes dragons feel good after battle to have their people around them,” Mike gives her a disgusted stare. “You’re one of his people. Get over here!”

My eyes widen at this show of knowledge. How did little Mike know that?

“Umm,” she debates, shifting from foot to foot in discomfort. “Is that ok?” She directs the question to me with a cringe that clearly says, ‘Please say no.’

“Of course,” I hold an arm out with a malicious grin. Her reluctance to touch me is amusing. It has nothing to do with the fact that she fawns all over the dog and is disgusted at the thought of hugging me. Not at all.

She sighs and steps under my arm, stiffly wrapping one arm around my waist and standing at my side with an inch separating us. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so disappointed.

After a minute, her posture relaxes, and she lets herself lean into me, her rigid hold relaxing and her head resting against my chest. That’s better. My instincts hum with pleasure as my mind wanders in a relaxed state.

She said that Ben had broken her personal space bubble. She touched King without truly paying attention and then acted as if she had been electrified after she realized she had done it.

Maybe it isn’t me, personally, that she objects to touching. Perhaps it’s everyone .

Her head does a little wiggling movement as if she’s trying to get more comfortable, shoulders sagging down, and I tighten my arm around her a little, just in case she falls asleep.

Mike pulls away and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Damn, you’re hot. ”

There’s a joke in there, but I’m content enough to leave it be.

“How are you not covered in sweat? Is it a mender thing?”

Beatrice’s head snaps up, all of the tension returning to her body with two foolish questions as her arm drops from around me. My grip tightens as she tries to withdraw, and my lip curls at Mike to display my teeth.

“Ambassador Mender,” a tiny voice startles us from off to our right.

Mike leaps back and snatches up his backpack as if he’s about to start running. I hold out a staying hand as I watch the faery hover near us.

His armor is coated in blood, obviously one of the guards that hitched a ride in the truck. I’m sure he had fun with whoever survived the crashes we left behind. Maybe even interrogated them if we’re lucky.

He bows low and doesn’t lift his face up as he says, “I have taken the liberty of calling for a ride to take you home. I apologize if that is unnecessary.”

“That’s… good.” I watch as she struggles to understand the simple nicety.

“Your service,” I say with a smirk, and the faery pulls upright.

“The vehicle is inconspicuous, but I highly recommend you travel straight home. If that is what you desire,” he swiftly amends, obviously afraid to say the wrong thing. Based on her behavior, it’s hard to tell what will upset her and what won’t.

I feel your pain, guard .

“Yes,” she sighs with relief. “That sounds amazing, actually.”

He gives her a dopey smile, assuming she’s the nicest person he’s ever met, I’m sure. Or maybe hoping for a chance to court her.

My lips peel back aggressively, and the faery startles in place.

He flies off as a sleek black vehicle, similar to many used all over the territory, pulls up and rolls to a quiet stop in front of us. The SUV is big enough to hold several people comfortably.

Before I can do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for her, she steps away from me. She wrenches it open, braced as if expecting an attack. After a second, she cautiously enters, and her eyes scan the interior quickly before she chooses a seat.

Mike frowns at her paranoid behavior because it’s certainly not comforting. I gesture him forward and follow him quickly.

Mike and I sit on the bench facing the front of the vehicle. At the same time, Beatrice has chosen one of the middle individual seats facing the rear, directly behind our driver.

Her eyes quickly scan everything inside again, noting details as I watch, perplexed.

As the vehicle starts forward, the automatic locks engage, and her eyes note it.

She turns her head and looks at the front passenger seat.

I can’t see from this vantage point if it is locked, but I assume so.

Then she turns her body until her back rests against the door awkwardly, giving herself a clearer view of the position of the fae driving, and brings her knees up to prop her feet on the seat.

What does it feel like to have that level of paranoia? How does she even survive the stress?

This female is such a contradiction of behaviors it boggles the mind.

Her hair is in wild disarray, her clothes don’t fit properly, and her shoelaces are untied.

But she knows what the driver is doing, is watching him control the vehicle as if memorizing how he’s doing it, and is that a knife?

Where did she get a knife from? She’s holding it comfortably, positioning it for a preemptive strike against the poor fae if he makes a single wrong move while looking as bored as a rebellious teenager unwillingly going to her fiftieth debutante ball.

“I have it here,” Mike says excitedly.

Her eyes slice right into his soul when she glares at him.

“Not now, Mike,” she says lightly as if she’s bored with him, but her eyes narrow into malicious slits.

His mouth opens a few times before he snaps it shut, watching her warily.

She turns back to subtly watch the driver again, and the rest of the ride ensues in silence.