Page 64 of Serving my Dragon
A bolt of lightning streaked from the sky and struck my cage. A metal cage sitting in a puddle. A puddle soaking my bottom. And you know what happens when electricity hits water?
I was electrocuted. My whole body jiggled as the current passed through me. So many volts.
Through the ringing in my ears I heard screaming, and I smelled something sizzling, quite possibly me. Really unpleasant, and I might have voiced my displeasure, only I collapsed before I could say a word.
Chapter Twenty-One
What bad luck. Our rescue attempt failed. I blamed Sally for using her ‘special’ move and having Blake finish quicker than expected. Now we’d gone from victory to me tethered to my uncle. Although, despite Sally’s command, I didn’t really tighten the cuffs. Juan helped by flexing his wrists when I put them on, a trick I also employed, meaning we had some slack. Slack enough that when thunder and lightning began a cascading light show, providing a distraction, I slipped my hands free and my uncle followed suit.
My quick pivot twinged the hole in my leg and I gritted my teeth against the pain only to gasp as I saw Pollita’s cage being struck by a bolt of jagged light. Worse, it electrified the puddle she sat in, and my poor dragon got electrocuted.
“Polly, no,” I whispered as her body went limp.
Pollita’s collapse led to Sally screeching, “Fucking storm.” She directed her rage at me. “This is your fault. If you’d minded your business?—”
Grief-stricken and angry, I didn’t let her finish. “How about if you hadn’t been a terrible person? Everything that’s happened: Kayleigh’s injuries, Polly’s demise, even the deaths of those men working for you. All your fault. You and that greedy bastardo.” I seethed with rage. My dragon was dead and quite possibly Kayleigh too. She’d not moved since she’d struck her head.
“All that effort for nothing.” Sally didn’t show any remorse.
“See, this is what happens when you don’t properly kill people the first time,” Blake drawled. He still held the gun and pointed it. “Not a mistake I’ll make again.”
Only before he could fire, an unexpected voice interrupted.
“Shoot my servant and it won’t be a quick death for you.” Pollita, her scales still smoking, stood in her cage.
“It’s alive!” Sally clapped her hands. “And capable of surviving a lightning strike. How incredible.”
Polly cocked her head. “You really are a stupid woman. There is only one kind of dragon that could endure that much current.”
Judging by the puzzled look on Sally’s face, she didn’t understand, but I did. I remembered what Polly had told us in the cave. Dragons had five possible abilities.
And my Pollita’s had just manifested.
She opened her mouth and proved it a moment later, sending a bolt of light so fast Sally didn’t even have time to blink. As the dart of electricity hit her, her mouth dropped open, her eyes bulged, and she hit the ground jiggling.
“What have you done?” Blake yelled, suddenly aiming his gun at the dragon instead of me.
“Let me show you.” Pollita blew out lightning for a second time, hitting Blake in the chest, sending the man staggering.
But he didn’t go down.
While Blake might be in agony, his adrenalized anger kept him upright and firing.
Bang. Bang.
The shots thankfully went wild, Blake’s hands shaking too hard from his spasming muscles. With him compromised, I didn’t think, I acted, diving at the man, hitting him in the knees, taking us down with a splash in a puddle.
“Move, Matias!” Polly ordered.
Again, no thinking allowed. I quickly rolled and ended up on my belly with a view of Blake sitting in the pool of water, face contorted in rage. The gun still in his hand. Aimed at me.
He paid attention to the wrong person.
The lightning that hit the puddle turned it into a charged death trap. I found it hard to feel sorry for the murdering gringo though, as he jiggled and sizzled. The gun fell from his limp fingers. His eyes rolled back. By the time Blake fell over with a splash, he was dead.
“You killed Blake!” Sally squealed, already recovering from her own jolt.
She might have raced to his side if Polly hadn’t growled, “You’d better run, or you’re next.”
