Dragon Lord (Dragons & Phoenixes Book 1) Read online

  Dragon Lord

  Dragons & Phoenixes Book One

  Miranda Martin

  Nadia Hunter

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Red Hot Preview: Dragon’s Baby

  Copyright © 2017 by Miranda Martin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

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  BLURB

  The world outside the cities went to hell a long time ago. When pollution got so bad it burned away the ozone layer, humans built protective domes in order to survive. Now, between the radiated air and the fighting among dragons and phoenixes, it's not safe to go outside.

  I'm a transporter. Self employed in a dangerous world, delivering valuable goods from client to recipient. But I never take on the more lucrative dome to dome jobs.

  When someone breaks into my apartment looking to hire me, I refuse flat out. One, I don't like being forced. Two, the job requires leaving the dome. Three, the package is a sun-sick kid. Half-human, half-phoenix and I'm supposed to take him back to his phoenix family. Oh hell no!

  But the client reveals he knows my secret, blackmailing me into a job I don't want with stakes that grow higher each day.

  I have to take the kid straight through the Dragon Lord's territory. Everyone knows that's suicide. Coming face to face with the dominant, sexy Dragon Lord reveals the truth about my heritage and puts me in more danger than I knew existed.

  Chapter One

  This was the address, according to my watch.

  The large warehouse didn’t look like anything special from where I stood in the shadows, in an alley across a narrow street. The building was one in a line of many, all in various states of disrepair. The synthetic wood paneling had been painted at some point, but it was so discolored and had peeled so much that I could only guess at what the original color was. A flicker of movement in the hazy window of a nearby building caught my eye and I glanced over. A reflexive sign of nervousness I couldn’t stop.

  Nothing. But that didn't mean nobody was there.

  Every part of the city dome was crowded, but bad areas like this one gave the appearance of being sparsely or not-at-all populated. However, that wasn't because people weren't here. It was because those who lived and survived in places like this knew better than to make themselves known. A person in plain sight was a potential target. When I had to be seen, I made an effort to appear strong—eyes forward, confident stride. I was already at a disadvantage being a young woman.

  Every so often, developers tried to come in and clean the place up. Space was at a premium since expansion was limited. They never got far. The residents here made sure of it.

  I looked up and down the street, scanning the few older vehicles parked on the side. Most of them had already gathered a thick layer of dust. At closer inspection, key components of each of them were stripped. Lovely. I doubted any of them were even functional.

  Good thing I didn't bring my car. With traffic the way it was, and the maze of narrow streets that were closed down for repairs that never happened, it didn't make sense for me to drive much. I rarely took my old piece of junk on a job unless the package I needed to deliver was heavy or bulky.

  I was much faster on foot. Speed was more important to me than the dubious convenience of a car. On the other hand, not having an enclosed vehicle also meant that I had to be on my toes. There was no metal and glass between me and everyone out here.

  I adjusted my grip on the slick handle of the briefcase I held down at my side, considering the deceptive emptiness of the street.

  Ah, the joys of self-employment. Sometimes I had to remind myself why I got into certain situations.

  Times like this.

  I started my carrier service, Mia Hill Delivery, a few years ago after I found myself without a job. With so little employment opportunities and so many people willing to work for non-living wages, job stability was a joke in most sectors. Going out on my own and building my own business was a difficult decision, though it ultimately paid off.

  I'm glad I did it. I might not make a lot, but I had enough to get by and I didn't have to answer to anyone but myself. Suited me just fine.

  There were definite pitfalls, though.

  The main con was that I often had to go into the shadier areas of the dome. I knew I couldn't compete with the larger services that only took jobs with limited liability. Deliveries that were completely clean and on the up-and-up with the so-called respectable sections of society.

  So I targeted the somewhat less respectable. They were underserved. For good reason, but a market was a market. I was hungry enough to make it work. I built my reputation on being discreet, fast, and reliable.

  The fact that I was a company of one also helped. The paranoid thought there was less of a chance of something going wrong if there was only one person involved. They might also have thought I'd be easier to lean on or control, but if it got me work, they could believe what they wanted. So long as I was paid on time for my services, of course.

  It was times like this, when I found myself hanging out in a dark alley lined with trash and intermittent shallow pools of mysterious liquid that stuck to the soles of my boots that I wondered if it was time to bring someone else on.

  If something seemed a little more dangerous than I could handle, I might tell my neighbor Jacob where I was going, just in case. But I tried not to do that before I left, because then he tried to insist on going with me. I had given in a couple of times, and both times his presence had only escalated the situation.

  Guys saw him and wanted to prove they could take him. They were wrong but I didn't particularly want to get into a fight every time I went on a job. As it was, if anything went south in this part of the city dome, I was on my own.

  It was a well-known fact that cops only showed up in the nice neighborhoods. Where the rich greased their palms, essentially converting public law enforcement into a private security detail. Corruption. Wasn't it grand?

  I looked at my watch again. One minute left.

  Showtime.

  I stepped out of the alley, my boots silent against the asphalt as I crossed the empty road. The spot between my shoulders itched from the idea of multiple pairs of eyes on me. More than a few of the broken, dingy windows that looked out onto the road were likely occupied with people curious to see what I was doing. And wondering if they could get something out of it, no doubt.

  I forced myself to keep my head straight, only using my peripheral vision to keep an eye around me. If I acted like a mark, I was much more likely to be jumped. I touched one of my knives, the s
mooth hilt calming my tightly controlled nerves.

  The door to the warehouse was rusted and old, but it didn't budge when I pounded on it. Reinforced. It looked old, but that was likely deliberate. It was window dressing, added on by whoever took control of the place. One more thing to show me that nothing here could be trusted.

  I didn't have to wait long for a response. The door opened smoothly, with no eerie creaking sound like its appearance might have suggested.

  I blinked at the overly developed chest that was suddenly at my eye level. Two odd bumps around the nipple area suggested he was into piercings. I tilted my head back and looked up at the man with the thick neck. Sunlight coming through the filter of the dome glinted off his bald head. His eyes were small and close together, his nose slightly off center from being broken, most likely more than once. His jaw was heavy and clean-shaven. His black t-shirt was tight enough to show off the very large muscles of his shoulders and arms, with black trousers and boots adding to his monochromatic look.

  He had a couple of shiny knives in holsters on either side of his hips, but I knew just from looking at them that they didn't get much use. I glanced at his hands, taking in the calluses and the scarred knuckles. The knives were just for show. This guy used his fists. I might have been more intimidated if I wasn't preoccupied thinking about his nipple piercings. Was he a simple bar or hoop guy? Or were they sparkly?

  Important questions.

  "Delivery," I finally offered when he just stared at me.

  He nodded, stepping back and gesturing into the dim interior. Why, yes, large scary man. I'd be more than happy to step into your isolated, dark warehouse. That seems like an excellent idea.

  I stepped inside anyway.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I didn't have a great feeling about this but I’d never left a job uncompleted before and I wasn't going to start now. I had a reputation to maintain. Such as it was.

  Inside, the cavernous space was lit by a few spaced-out bulbs hanging from a high ceiling. Crates were stacked in massive columns and rows. There was only one path to take, and crates lined both sides of it.

  "This way," he said in surprisingly high-pitched voice for a man so massive. I wondered if he got so built just to preempt any jokes about it.

  I followed behind his bulky frame, my eyes peeled for anyone else. If there were more people hidden among the crates, they were deliberately still and quiet.

  The path twisted and turned, with multiple places where there was more than one direction you could go. As he led me through, I made sure to memorize the path we took. I could see why they had the crates in here arranged this way. It would be hard to break in and find what you were looking for and it would be difficult to leave if they didn't want you to.

  It would be so easy to get lost. What a comforting thought. I repeated the turns in my head.

  We walked for a full two minutes before the narrow walkway through the crates ended abruptly, and we came out into a clear space.

  It wasn't what I expected. It looked like an average office. Well, except for the fact that it was in the middle of a dim warehouse. There was a desk set in the center with a cushioned chair behind it. There were no chairs in front for guests. Guess they didn't have many of those. Or at least not ones they wanted to be comfortable.

  Filing cabinets in an industrial-beige color defined the sides of the square area. I wondered if there was actual paper in them. It was difficult to come by. As with most things, a synthetic material was available, but it was expensive. There was even a bookshelf directly behind the desk, though I couldn't read the spines of the books from this far away. They looked old and worn, as most books did these days. Digital was the norm. It didn't need physical space and paper was, as I said, expensive.

  Whoever had designed this place had an old-school office in mind. I was guessing it was the middle-aged man sitting behind the desk.

  He was small, balding, and dressed in a tightly fitted pinstriped suit. Unfortunate. It showed off his narrow shoulders and his small belly, the kind that grew when you had a desk job. His face was round, his cheeks full, and small wire-rimmed glasses sat on his equally round nose. He smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. He might have looked like a mid-level executive, but the mild exterior was meaningless.

  "You have a delivery for me?" he asked pleasantly enough, his eyes glancing over at the briefcase I still had attached to my wrist.

  "Yes." I looked up at the other two guards he had waiting on either side of him, a few steps back, their outfits and demeanor the same as the guy who brought me in here. They gave me hard stares, ready to tackle me if I made the wrong move. I was not moving forward until I got an invitation.

  "Bring it here," the man ordered.

  A please would have been nice, but that was probably asking a little too much.

  I nodded and stepped forward. Using my fingerprint, I undid the custom handcuffs that attached the briefcase to my wrist. It had been a splurge to get something so secure, but it had been worth it. If I used the wrong finger, it would be locked for twenty-four hours.

  I also had the option of setting it to detonate if it sensed my vitals declining—either because someone killed me or because they chopped off my hand. Gruesome, but it would be a good deterrent. Not that I ever activated that feature. But any would be thieves wouldn't know that.

  Pocketing the handcuffs, I set the briefcase down carefully on the desk. I had no idea what was in it and that's the way I liked to keep it. All I asked was if the contents were fragile. In this case, they weren't.

  The man reached out with his small, well-manicured hands, the gold watch on his wrist glimmering even in this lighting. Gaudy. But I guess it matched the stark pinstripe of his suit. He'd probably watched one too many classic mob movies. He pulled the briefcase over to his side of the desk and opened it. I still couldn't make out what was in it as he scanned the content with his eyes.

  "Looks like it's all here," he murmured, closing the briefcase again and smiling at me. "Thank you for your services."

  "Of course." Now, to get out of here. I really hoped this would be easy. I took a step back from the desk and sensed movement behind me. I didn't take my eyes off the guy in charge. "I'll just be leaving now," I said in an even voice. Maybe being confident and saying it out loud would help.

  A girl could dream. Even before he replied, I knew shit was going to hit the fan.

  "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he replied just as evenly. "You see, we just can't have anyone walking around with knowledge of this." He smiled slightly. "And I promised Benny to take care of you in exchange for what you have so thoughtfully delivered."

  I had an urge to ask knowledge of what, since I still had no idea what was in the briefcase, but I knew it didn't matter. He'd already decided to kill me.

  And he'd get away with it.

  Benny, the dick-hole who hired me, was so going to regret this. Assuming I got out of here.

  If I died, there really wasn't anyone who would notice apart from my landlord when rent didn't arrive and my neighbor Jacob. I might not have told Jacob where I was going before I left, but I did leave a note about it on my kitchen counter in case something happened to me. I'd probably be dead by the time he went into my apartment looking for me, but at least he'd know what happened. I also told him in the note not to come after me.

  Jacob had a pretty sketchy past that he wasn't all that open with. From what I could glean, he'd spent quite a bit of time as a mercenary outside the city domes. He might decide to come and find out in person any way. And then he might be hurt. Maybe addresses weren't a good thing to leave for him to find. On the other hand, he could find out where I'd gone by hacking into the computer in my office, which I knew he could do. He had quite a list of skills for a baker.

  All of that ran through my head as I pulled my knives out of their holsters. At the very least, I'd make sure I did some damage.

  The security on either side of the desk st
arted walking towards me even as I stepped to the side to keep an eye on the guy behind me as well. Taking on all three of them was stupid. If any one of them got their hands on me, they could probably break me in half with all their steroid-enhanced muscles. No, I needed to get through the first guy and run.

  But I needed to move fast, before they got any closer.

  All in.

  Turning to the guy who initially opened the door, I sprinted straight at him. His eyes widened at the unexpected move, though he kept his position.

  As I drew close, he reached out to grab me but I ducked and used both knives to slice at the backs of his legs, aiming for his tendons. Incapacitating him.

  He shouted as I dodged around him and shoved him forward, towards the other two who had picked up speed. My heart was pounding hard enough it was hitting my chest wall. There was a metallic taste in my mouth as adrenaline rushed through my veins.

  Right, left, straight. I tried to remember the exact directions to reach the door, hoping I hadn't forgotten one. A dead end at this point would actually mean death for me. How appropriate.

  Crashes sounded from behind as the men's large bodies hit the crates. People that heavy and large just weren't fast. The narrowness of the passageway was in my favor. Being smaller, I didn't crash into anything even at breakneck speed.

  If I made it out of here, I was going to kill Benny, the little weasel who hired me for this job. My guess was that he knew exactly how this would go down. No wonder didn't negotiate with me when I named my price. He never expected to have to pay the second half.

  I knew I shouldn't have taken the job. He'd given off bad vibes, but I needed the money.

  The lit edge of the door leading out finally came into view and a renewed burst of energy suffused my screaming leg muscles.

  I might have actually made it, but then another large shape stepped in front of the door. Where did these guys come from?