Page 45 of The Silver Spider
Its round face and blunt snout was half covered by a helmet, but yellowed fangs protruded clearly. The troll swiped at him, arm slow but powerful, the air singing with the force of his attempted blow. Amnan dodged, not bothering to engage.
The troll’s attacks sped up, as if over time the parts began to warm and loosen, a spark of life returning to flat, dead eyes. It roared and tried to rush Amnan into the corner. He dived, its claws missing him by a fraction. The trolls swung around and Amnan delivered a roundhouse kick, his entire weight behind the blow. The troll grunted, stumbling back a single step.
Fuck.
“You’re a sturdy made little fucker, aren’t you? No one will be asking for their gold back with you.” Creatures like this were also illegal, but Amnan didn’t think Dawnthorne gave a hoot about human laws. It also made clear why Dawnthorne would want Serephone so badly. This was the work of a skilled animage.
It roared again, and the scent of rancid oil and rotten food assaulted Amnan’s nose. “Stone and Skies, that stench is enough to make me surrender. No toothbrush?”
It swung both arms, apparently trying to take off his head. He blocked it, having nowhere to go this time, the shock of the troll’s strength reverberating through Amnan’s forearms. He grit his teeth, stifling another curse because that would take too much energy.
And then the whirring blades stopped, and the troll stepped back, the fiery light of hell in its eyes fading to flat black again. It turned and shuffled away, Amnan watching with a raised brow.
“What the hell?”
* * *
“They wouldn’t have arrestedyou if you hadn’t threatened to burn the building down,” Kailigh said.
“I’d think my wife would show a bit more sympathy to my mistreatment.”
Maddugh crossed his arms, slouching on the bench with a scowl. She stared at him. A centuries old man, in his prime according to dragons, and a father of three grown men—pouting.
It was unbecoming.
“I know they do business with that sneaky bastard,” her husband muttered.
“Your son? Amnan?”
“I know his name.” Maddugh’s eyes narrowed, lip curling in a sneer. “Did they really think they could keep me locked up in a prison made of wood? They’re insane.”
“They had a fae on staff,” Kailigh said, unimpressed with Lord Maddugh’s behavior. She reached into her reticule, buttery brown leather with delicate amber and copper beads–a little gift from Maddugh–and pulled out a set of papers she’d folded into a neat square. “So, they could have done a well enough job of keeping you locked up.”
“What are those?”
She handed him the papers. “While you were languishing, dear, I was procuring Serephone’s employment permit.”
He sat up, skimming the documents. “How did you get these? That toad swore—”
She sniffed. “I’m much prettier than you.”
Maddugh’s eyes flashed, pupils narrowing to slits. “I’ll murder him if he flirted with you.”
Kailigh rolled her eyes. “Mature. I wonder what Lady Nahasha will say when she learns you almost started a cross species incident in her territory.”
Maddugh knocked on the wall separating the driver’s compartment form the passenger’s. The narrow window slid open.
“Yes, sir?” the driver asked politely.
“Take us to the Black Pearl.”
“You don’t want to go to her apartment?” Kailigh asked.
“She probably has it booby trapped.”
True.
“Fine, but we need to return to our accommodations first. I’m not dressed for a club and neither are you. We’ll be conspicuous.”
