Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(22)

“There,” she said, grabbing hold of the rope again. “Now you have thanked me, dragon.”

She walked off, pulling the bear behind her. As she moved, she did add, “I must admit . . . I thought tongue would be forked.”

She heard him growl behind her. “I am not a snake.”

“So you say,” she countered, grinning. “So you say.”

Gaius watched Kachka Shestakova drag that bear away, leaving a trail of blood as she did.

For a moment, a brief one, he was nothing but angry and annoyed. And then, suddenly, he was smiling. Still tasting her on his lips. Still feeling where her hand, sticky with bear blood, had pressed against the back of his neck.

Gaius took in a deep, wonderful breath.

The suns were shining. His sister was safe. He was alive.

And Kachka Shestakova had the most delightful tongue he’d ever had in his mouth....

Chapter Six

Brigida stared down at the table in the far corner of her private cavern. It was filled with books on all kinds of magicks and potions and rituals.

She stared and waited until she knew she was no longer alone.

“Nina Chechneva, the Unclaimed,” she sneered, slowly turning to face the dark-souled witch creeping around the stone wall into her cavern.

The witch smiled, trying to hide beauty under all that hair and black stuff around her eyes. Trying to make herself look more terrifying.

“And you are Brigida the Foul. My dark gods have told me much about you.”

“Have they?”

“They have.” She moved closer, easing her way around Brigida. Like a jungle cat easing its way around its prey.

“They say you have great power,” the witch smilingly hissed, easing closer and closer. “Power that I must have!”

The witch spun and, using the power of that spin, rammed a blade up to the hilt into Brigida’s chest.

Brigida sighed, looked down at the blade, then back at the witch. “Really? That the best you can do?”

The witch stepped back, eyes wide. “I . . . I . . .”

Brigida snorted and flicked the fingers of her free hand, sending the witch flipping across the room and slamming into the wall—where Brigida left her hanging.

“I knew from the way me grandniece reacted to you that you were one of the Dark Soul witches. With your hell gods and soul stealing.” Brigida laughed. “I mean, that girl loves everybody. Even me. But not you.”

Brigida yanked the blade from her chest and made her slow way across the cavern. “I’ve been alive for a very long time,” she told the witch as she struggled in vain to free herself. “And I done that by being one of the meanest bitches on the planet. And no little Rider girl, not even four hundred years yet, is going to f*ck with me.”

Standing in front of the witch, Brigida smiled up at her. “But I want to make sure you understand what I’m telling you.”

Brigida rammed the blade into the witch’s thigh, quickly silencing her screams with a thought.

“Now, see . . . could’ve put that blade right back in your chest. Could have cut your throat too. Didn’t, though. Maybe you think I just like torturing ya. And true. I do a bit. Because I am an evil bitch, yeah? An’ evil bitches like to torture. But that’s not why I’m keeping you alive, little Rider.”

Brigida shook her head. “I know what you’re planning. Get far from the Outerplains. Get them other Riders on their own. Kill them while they sleep and take their souls. I know you’re planning this . . . ’cause I would have done the same thing—a few hundred years back. But you’re not going to do that this time.”

She waved her hand, releasing the witch, letting her drop hard to the ground.

“Get up,” she sneered. “You gonna be an evil bitch, you’ve got to be ready to suffer for the privilege.”

The witch yanked the blade from her leg and snarled, “What do you want from me, old cunt?”

“You want to keep worshipping your dark gods and stealing your souls, little Rider? Want to be as powerful as me one day? Then your job is working with these Riders.”

“We do not even know what we are doing. How do you?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions. Just do what I tell you.”

“And if I don’t?”

Brigida yanked the blade out of the witch’s hand and rammed it into her other thigh.

“Motherf*cker!”

Brigida smiled. “That’s what.”

“What is your name, little boy?”

Talan glanced over at the giantess next to him. She was leering at him in a way he was entirely uncomfortable with!

“Talan. Prince Talan. Beloved son of Annwyl the Bloody.”

I can’t believe you’re using Mum, his sister laughed in his head.

Do you see the size of this woman? She could twist me into a braided loaf of bread.

Have some dignity!

If you’re not going to help—f*ck off.

“Has she already promised you to another?”

Talan blinked. “Pardon?”

“Polite. My girls will like that.”

Rhi, who’d been pacing in front of them and wringing her hands, snapped, “Why did Kachka bring that witch woman here? What was she thinking?”

“When did you and Kachka Shestakova become such good friends?” Talwyn asked, uncaring about her brother’s current plight—as always! “If memory serves, she called you either the Brown One or the Weeper. Neither of which sounded like compliments to me.”