Page 10 of Ensnared (The Dragon Captured #1)

That’s a lie, of course. They’re already sick of them.

My six-year-old brother packed the smartest thing out of all of us, and it was the thing I almost made him leave.

They’ve been playing twenty questions and I spy so much that if I have to hear “I spy with my little eye” one more time, I might cut someone.

Before I leave, I grab a fireplace poker and an ornamental sword that I found in an Oriental-themed room. It’s probably not really smelted right, but it’s better than nothing at all. Or at least, I hope it is. I’d rather not find out.

I also grab my backpack. It should cover up most of the sword that’s showing, and it’ll have the added benefit of providing my reason for leaving. I can say that we need food that Gordon just isn’t finding, right?

But what I really want, in order, is:

A way to contact the humans.

An idea of how many dragons there are.

Ways we might escape.

Axel barely seems to remember we’re here. He shouldn’t care much if we leave. If he catches me leaving and gets upset, I can explain that sending Gordon once a day to bring us food is a violation of his agreement to keep us safe. That seems reasonable.

I creep out the front doors, which fly open loudly, unhelpfully announcing my departure.

But there’s no one to see it. The entire area’s totally abandoned.

I walk past an Urban Air jump park, a steakhouse, a Waffle House, and then I see what I’ve been looking for—a gas station. They always have map books, right?

Only, it doesn’t.

Apparently, thanks to iPhones, no one needs those anymore.

I swear under my breath. How am I supposed to look at where they might have their real base of operations, knowing they likely need a place on the water, without a map?

I keep walking, past a seafood place and a movie theater.

There are no humans anywhere to be seen—which makes me wonder whether they got out. . .or died. I don’t see bodies.

But what does that mean?

The signs are mostly unfamiliar, but the NASA Bypass isn’t a big surprise.

Next to that are signs for Clear Creek. If there really is a creek, that could empty into the gulf, which they might like for the water dragons.

I head back toward the furniture store in search of some kind of provisions.

If one of Axel’s people catches me, I need to have a plausible story, and I’ve been out for more than an hour now.

A dragon flies overhead, and I duck under a store awning.

I hide for fifteen minutes, my heart pounding, and then I creep back out.

Just past the furniture store there’s a Costco—I must have been really focused on getting that gas station map book to miss it on my way out.

I duck inside and find granola bars, breakfast bars, beef jerky for me, and half a dozen other things.

They’re all in such big packaging that I have to break things open to stuff my backpack, but in less than thirty minutes, I’ve loaded up with all I can carry, and I’m ready to duck back out.

A few hundred feet, and no one will realize I’ve even left.

That’s when I hear it.

The whimpering’s really pathetic. It’s definitely some kind of dog.

“Come here, baby,” I call softly, hoping it’ll listen. I can’t risk being out here too long trying to coax an unknown animal.

Not a peep.

I try again. “Hey there, cutie. Come here. I can give you a treat.”

Still nothing.

Wherever it is, it’s been scared or scarred enough to stay hidden. I hope my siblings are doing the same. “Alright, well, if you won’t come out, I can’t help you. I’ve got to go.”

I’m walking away when it pokes its head out. It’s a tiny black Pomeranian with a tan face. I glance left and then right—no signs of any dragons—and crouch down again. “Come on, sweetie. Come here.” I open a granola bar and hold out a piece in my hand. “Treat?”

To my shock, it darts out and heads right for me.

It tries to snatch the food and run, but I’m faster.

When I pick it up, my heart sinks. It weighs almost nothing.

And that’s how I wind up heading back to the store to grab a bag of dog food and some canned chicken.

The dog food’s heavy, but the dog’s light enough that I don’t dare leave any of it behind.

I’m two dozen feet from the store entrance when I hear it.

A scraping, crackling sound.

That can’t be good.

As I spin around, I hear a grinding noise, like gears in a car seizing up.

That’s two weird, low sounds now, which means two shifting dragons, somewhere.

I don’t dare lead them to the furniture store, but I also can’t greet them while holding this little fluff.

“I’m going to put you down,” I whisper. “You need to stay put when I do, alright?” I tear the top of the bag of dry dog food open and drop them both on the ground in a bush.

I rip my backpack open next to it, exposing my makeshift weapons.

A fireplace poker and a decorative sword.

Well, it could be worse. I could be brandishing a broken umbrella and a snapped stick. Is it possible I have nothing to worry about? Could the dragons be friends? I mean, it’s not Gordon or Rufus—they sound the same every time they shift. But it could be another dragon sent by Axel, right?

Only, if the dragons don’t mean me harm, why would they be shifting? Only, when I turn around, it’s to face two men and a woman.

I could have sworn I heard. . .do they make the same sound when they shift to a human form? They must. And maybe they’re friendly. He is their prince, after all.

Part of me hates Axel even more than before for leaving me here and teaching me nothing. Of course, if I’d stayed put like he ordered. . .

“Hey there, fellow blessed,” I say.

“You’re a human.” The woman sniffs. “You reek of it.”

I don’t smell that bad, and it’s not my fault Axel dropped me somewhere without a proper bathroom. “I’m ensnared,” I say.

“Then where’s your visor?” Her smile isn’t reassuring.

My visor ? “I, uh, left it back in my den.” I’m proud of my quick thinking.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the woman says. “We’re tasked to round up any human stragglers and bring them in to be assigned. If you really are ensnared, you can sort it out there.”

Stragglers? There are humans out here who haven’t been caught yet? But that also means they’ve caught others, and those humans are doing their bidding. “You must be earth blessed,” I say, “since you can shift into human form.”

“You do know some things.” The woman frowns. “Who have you talked to?”

“I’m bound to Axel,” I say. “The Prince of the Earth Blessed.”

She scowls. “We can’t ensnare humans.”

I cringe a little. Will the others finding out get him in trouble?

Is that why he’s been hiding me? If so, my little venture outside might have been far, far worse than Gordon made it sound.

“Maybe I’m mistaken,” I say. “Maybe he’s not earth blessed, but I have a dragon, and he told me to wait here.

I’m going to just duck inside until he comes.

” I point across the street at the Costco.

I can’t have them searching the furniture store, after all.

The doors to Star Furniture open with a whoosh. “Liz, you’re back!” Jade’s beaming right up until she looks past me at three very shocked faces.

“Get back inside,” I shout. “Now.” I lunge for the sword and the fireplace poker as if they might actually help me.

“You lied,” the woman says. “You’re not alone, and you’re not bound to anyone.” She sprints toward me.

“We should shift back,” the short man says.

“We always wind up killing them when we do that, and then Axel gets mad. He said we need humans to run all the things that need doing.”

The woman has reached me now, not suffering from the same sort of indecision as the men. Her lip curls back in a snarl as she reaches for me.

I’ve used bamboo swords since I first started with martial arts. The familiar clacking. The strikes and parries and jabs. I do them without thinking.

She’s moving toward me, so I strike with the ornamental blade.

It severs her hand at the wrist.

This thing must be much sharper than I thought, which is lucky.

I suppose with enough force behind it, even a blunt blade can slice.

I stop worrying about the details and focus on that moment and my most urgent opponent.

She’s snarling, and she brings her good hand up by her face.

I’m completely shocked as I watch the fingers of her remaining hand shift.

The fingernails morph into claws, and then her teeth lengthen, too.

If they can change their shape from dragon to human, I suppose it makes sense that they can also alter the specifics of it, but it looks even stranger than seeing a dragon to me now.

When she swipes at me, I parry smoothly, thank you years of training, and I sweep upward with the fireplace poker, gouging the left side of her body pretty badly.

That’s why she stumbles.

And I take my window without pause, decapitating her.

Mostly.

I suppose a decorative blade isn’t really that great at slicing through everything , and the neck has bone, sinew, and connective tissue galore. Her head kind of lolls forward, still partially connected. It’s probably the goriest, most grotesque thing I’ve seen in my entire life.

That’s why the two men are able to approach me while I’m distracted. They’re so close they could reach out and grab me.

And then they do.

But I react quickly, at least, and I manage to dislodge the hand of the short one, freeing my left arm. Sadly it’s my fireplace poker arm, but I slam it upward and into the woman’s dangling head, and it finally detaches the rest of the way.

Her head, rolling away from us, distracts the short man enough that he drops down to one knee and calls out what I presume is her name. “Jakarta!”