Page 27 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Alashiya’s fingers curled tightly around the handle of her basket.

Her gaze skittered between the three faces.

They wore identical expressions — or rather, non-expressions.

Their eyes were blank. There was no desire, no interest, no malice or even polite curiosity when they watched her. There was… nothing.

When they continued to stare, their large bodies completely still, Alashiya tore her gaze away and forced her feet to move.

Debbie didn’t appear to notice the strange exchange.

She was busy watching a program on her tablet, which was propped up by a cheap tackle box, and occasionally spitting into a can with the tab torn off.

Alashiya’s grandmother had once told her that people were drawn to nymphs because they radiated the stuff of life, all the carnal things they might reject and yet crave.

Maybe that was true, but she didn’t get the sense that the men watched her like they craved something.

They looked at her like she was an insect they’d never encountered before, with neither disgust nor true interest. She was just there, and at any moment they might deem her unimportant enough to trod on.

“You done?” The sound of Debbie’s familiar, put-upon croak made her jump.

“Um, yes,” she answered, accidentally thumping her basket down on the chipped formica countertop. Cold sweat slicked the back of her neck as she forced her attention away from the strange men.

Debbie muttered a token complaint about something Alashiya didn’t catch — probably something about Mike, or the weather, or her children, who were all a pain in her ass.

There was an uncomfortable buzzing in Alashiya’s ears as she watched the old woman carefully ring up every item.

She needed to ask Debbie a question, but her mouth was too dry to form words.

“…don’t forget the plums next time. I’ll trade you those noodles you like, but only for the good ones.”

Alashiya blinked as Debbie handed her card back. “Right,” she breathed, shoving her wallet back into her pocket. Her hands shook as she stuffed her purchases into her canvas shoulder bag. Clearing her sticky throat, she asked, “Debbie, have you seen M—”

She was interrupted by the clang of the bells over the door. Tensing, she looked up in time to see the very man she intended to ask about.

Monty Howard had looked the same all her life.

Tall, rail-thin, with a shaved head and deep lines grooved down his cheeks, he would’ve fit in with the unhappy men of any era.

He usually wore sunbleached baseball hats pulled low over his eyes, layers of baggy clothing that needed a good wash, and a pair of boots she suspected were older than her.

He’d never spoken to her until one awful day at the start of hunting season several years ago, when he’d approached her about opening up her land for killing.

The Shifter Alliance put harsh restrictions on when and how much hunting could be done on public land, but there was more leeway on private property, so long as she allowed the surveyor to keep an eye on things once a year.

Since her land was almost entirely wild, it’d become a haven for deer, elk, rabbit, and the occasional moose — an irresistible buffet to a man like Monty.

He hadn’t liked her answer. She thought turning him down had sparked some resentful interest in her. She’d been more or less beneath his notice before then, but after, she couldn’t seem to escape it.

Unfortunately, it was Monty who she suspected would be able to get her what Taevas needed.

Like always, Monty’s watery blue eyes fixed on her the second he spied her by the register. Adjusting the brim of his hat with one dry, work-worn hand, he said, “Look at that — the little princess has graced us with her presence again, huh?”

Debbie brought her can up for a covert spit of brown tobacco juice. “Morning, Monty. Don’t be a dick.”

“Deb,” he grunted, releasing the door. It didn’t swing shut, however, as a hand caught it just before it made it to the jamb.

Alashiya had opened her mouth to force out her question about getting a satellite phone like the one she knew Monty had, but the words died on her tongue when a pale blue arm pushed the door open again.

Monty glanced carelessly over his shoulder as he shuffled inside, making way for the much bigger man to follow him in.

It was remarkable how one could go from never seeing a dragon in their life to seeing two in the span of a week.

Alashiya stared at the man who stepped into the shop with wide eyes.

He had to duck to accommodate his height, which was added to by a set of short gilded horns.

His hair was dark and carefully styled out of his eyes.

Heavy-set in the way people with natural muscle often were, he was perhaps the single largest being Alashiya had ever seen.

Even slightly bigger than Taevas, though they had to be close.

Her dragon was a bit leaner and ever-so-slightly taller, but it was a near thing.

Dressed in what looked like brand new hiking gear, sans the boots, he made a bizarre image there in the narrow doorway.

“Move, princess. You aren’t the only one who has shit to do,” Monty barked.

He nearly elbowed her away from the register, but she stepped aside just in time. There was suddenly hardly any room to move in the space between the register and aisles. With the three men, Monty, and the huge dragon, Alashiya had the thought that she might actually get stepped on.

“That’s not very nice,” a deep, smooth voice rumbled. “Give the lady some room.”

Alashiya tensed when the three men immediately stepped aside, their attention moving in sync to the dragon, who’d shoved his massive hands into the pockets of his expensive-looking hiking pants. He smiled at her, showing off pearly fangs and the webbing of crow’s feet around his dark eyes.

The motion of his tail slowly swishing back and forth behind him drew her eye. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. It moved in the way a cat’s tail did just before they pounced on an unsuspecting bluejay.

He was handsome, in a mature, dangerous sort of way, and he appeared to know it when he gave her a slow perusal with a smile.

“Where have you been hiding, pretty thing? Never thought I’d find a treasure all the way out here.

” He flashed her a wink. “The gods have sent me a blessing in my time of need. What’s your name? ”

Monty, who’d already begun arguing with Debbie over the price of a week’s worth of MREs, drew his back up to level a glare at the dragon. “Why’d you need to know that?”

The dragon’s easy smile didn’t fall, exactly, but something cold slithered in his gaze when he briefly turned his attention to the hunter. “I’m not paying you to question me, arrant. I was speaking to the lady.”

Fear was suddenly a hard, spiky lump in the pit of Alashiya’s stomach. The dragon hadn’t done anything. He didn’t raise his voice or even take his hands out of his pockets, but he didn’t need to. The menace was in his eyes.

What if he had something to do with Taevas’s abduction?

She shuffled her feet in an effort to dispel the urge to run. There was no evidence of that. He hadn’t explained who kidnapped him. It was strange that she’d see another dragon so soon after finding Taevas in her barn, sure, but more improbable things happened.

But that menace lingered in her mind’s eye like a stormcloud on the horizon. Goosebumps broke out across her arms. Whoever he is, I want nothing to do with him.

Monty was either too irascible or too stubborn to take the hint from the dragon. Alashiya would’ve wagered it was equal parts both, if she weren’t fighting her instinct to run with everything she had.

The old hunter gave her a scathing once-over and made a derisive sucking sound with his teeth. “Oh, she’s a lady all right. Too good for anybody or anything in this town.”

“Shut the fuck up, Monty,” Debbie groused.

Eyeing the dragon in the way that meant she was estimating just how much money she might be able to wring out of him, Debbie explained, “This is our Shiya. Born and raised here, never been trouble for anybody in her life. Comes from a real old, royal family, her grandma told me — Grim guide her soul. This grouchy fuck’s just bitter she doesn’t want an old man breathing down her shirt and killin’ things on her land. ”

Alashiya’s lips tightened. You just love to gossip, Debbie.

The dragon tilted his head slightly. The whole time Debbie spoke, he hadn’t taken his eyes off Alashiya, who stood frozen by a stand full of miniature bags of chips.

A hideous sensation of exposure, like Debbie had peeled Alashiya’s skin off to show the dragon her insides, made her heart jackknife against her ribs.

“Tell me your family name, Shiya. I come from an old family myself, so who knows? Our kin might’ve crossed paths.” He gave her an indulgent look, like he knew she couldn’t possibly be anyone of importance but was choosing to indulge her anyway. To flatter her.

Alashiya swallowed a bitter taste on her tongue. “It’s Ardz.”

He gave her another one of those polite, infuriating smiles. “Hm. How old is your royal family, exactly?”

“The oldest,” she answered, briefly throwing caution aside to meet his dark gaze. Her ghosts whispered in her ear, their pride a wave of prickling heat under skin, in the blood that pumped through her heart and the silver roots that marked her body as sacred.

The oldest of the old. As old as creation.

The dragon made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Ardz doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ll look into it.” One step put him into her space. He towered over her.

Swallowing her useless pride, she dropped her eyes and felt for the first time what it was to be a mouse in the shadow of a hawk.

He opened his mouth to speak again, his head bent as if he intended to whisper in her ear, but the dragon was cut off by Monty’s impatient bark. “You’re paying me to take you hunting, not to stand around and watch you hit on some fuckin’ nymph. You want me to go?”

It was breathtaking, seeing the change in the dragon’s expression from so close up. One moment his smile was soft, beguiling, and his handsome features were set in an expression of pure invitation. Within the span of a heartbeat, those same features had contorted into an animal’s snarl.

He whirled on Monty, huge wings mantled high enough that his talons scraped the yellowed popcorn ceiling.

“Watch your fucking tongue, arrant,” he snapped.

“If I want to waste my money speaking to a beautiful woman rather than this fucking shit show, I will. And you’ll mind your language in front of the lady.

I know it’s hard for you, but show some respect. ”

Monty sucked his teeth again. “You only paid for a week of huntin’, rich boy. You want me to watch my fuckin’ mouth, too? That’s extra.”

The dragon took one threatening step toward Monty. Alashiya saw her opportunity and took it.

Gripping the strap of her bag until her knuckles blanched white, she ducked her head and slipped behind the dragon.

Avoiding his swiping, rattling tail took a dexterous twist of her hips.

A handful of quick steps saw her to the door.

She moved so fast that no one, including the silent group of men, seemed to notice she was on her way until the bell clanged. By then she was already out the door.