Read Online Sword of the King by Megan Derr - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Megan Derr
Tags: General Fiction
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sat down with a yawn. The kitchen was cool, but after Erie and a nearly too-hot shower, he felt overheated in jeans and a black tank top. The coffee wasn't helping, but he'd fall asleep without it.
He pulled the thick sheaf of papers close and removed the binder clip holding them together, and sipped at his coffee as he began to read through them.
The first few pages were standard medical reports, containing every last scrap of family history, alongside practically every single bruise the dragon—Cam—had endured since childhood. Blaze always felt sorry for the bastards whose job was to hunt down all the information that went into the dragon reports.
He skimmed through it quickly, moving on to the tests Cam would have undergone after being taken in—kidnapped, really, but nobody liked to say that word.
Blaze frowned as he read the preliminary blood work—also called field tests—they did immediately after acquiring a new dragon. More extensive lab work was done later, but prelims were enough to be certain that they weren't wasting time or energy on the capture.
The report had to be wrong, unless he'd misread something. He flipped back to the beginning and reread the basic information. No, he'd read correctly: the kid was nineteen, going to college, and worked in a bookstore. His parents were deceased. No other family listed. A loner, but not without some friends. A more or less typical guy.
But the prelim tests said his dragon potential levels were at eighty percent. That meant he was eighty percent dragon, even if it was all dormant. Such a high level of dragon potential made him a pure, and an exceptional pure at that. But it also meant he should have trouble functioning as a normal human. Pures were almost always found living solitary lives, usually up to their ears in violence, trouble, and criminal records. They didn't act normal.
Frowning, wondering if the preliminary test results were wrong, Blaze moved on to the full test results—and nearly spit his coffee everywhere when those tests stated that Cam was, in fact, ninety-one percent dragon.
Fucking hell. Cam should be serving a life sentence somewhere as a malcontent, violent, uncontrollable bane to society. It was a miracle he hadn't managed to trigger his dormant dragon genes himself. Blaze shoved his mug aside and read through it all again, pouring over every sentence.
All the hallmarks of a dragon were there: loner, very self-sufficient, disinclined to work with or under others, intimidating, plus the fixation on strawberries ... all of the signs were there, but based on the report, Blaze would have put the dragon potential at forty percent best.
"Incredible," he muttered. It had to be a quad-black. There were only three quad-blacks in the country last he'd heard, and twenty-four in the whole world. No wonder Rust was willing to trade taking him out of the pit fights with Blaze stealing the dragon for him.
He was pulled from the papers by a low, angry growl, and looked up towards the kitchen door where Erie stood sulking with a hurt look on his face. "New dragon? Better than Erie?"
Blaze smiled. "No one could be better than you, Erie. You're not incredible, you're perfect. Come here, silly lizard."
Growling happily, Erie prowled forward to sit on the floor, curling close against his chair and resting his head against Blaze's thigh. "Good master."
"Good Erie," Blaze replied, keeping one hand threaded through Erie's soft hair as he resumed reading. When he finally finished, he leaned back with a sigh and drained his cooled coffee. "I don't know what's going to happen when we meet the dragon, Erie, but I get the feeling that shit is going to get crazy. It's also going to get bloody. It always does when power like this is in play."
Just thinking about it sent a chill across the back of his neck, a crawling sensation that had him rubbing his neck as though expecting to find a spider. Thinking about things going wrong made him think of Ken, and
He pulled the thick sheaf of papers close and removed the binder clip holding them together, and sipped at his coffee as he began to read through them.
The first few pages were standard medical reports, containing every last scrap of family history, alongside practically every single bruise the dragon—Cam—had endured since childhood. Blaze always felt sorry for the bastards whose job was to hunt down all the information that went into the dragon reports.
He skimmed through it quickly, moving on to the tests Cam would have undergone after being taken in—kidnapped, really, but nobody liked to say that word.
Blaze frowned as he read the preliminary blood work—also called field tests—they did immediately after acquiring a new dragon. More extensive lab work was done later, but prelims were enough to be certain that they weren't wasting time or energy on the capture.
The report had to be wrong, unless he'd misread something. He flipped back to the beginning and reread the basic information. No, he'd read correctly: the kid was nineteen, going to college, and worked in a bookstore. His parents were deceased. No other family listed. A loner, but not without some friends. A more or less typical guy.
But the prelim tests said his dragon potential levels were at eighty percent. That meant he was eighty percent dragon, even if it was all dormant. Such a high level of dragon potential made him a pure, and an exceptional pure at that. But it also meant he should have trouble functioning as a normal human. Pures were almost always found living solitary lives, usually up to their ears in violence, trouble, and criminal records. They didn't act normal.
Frowning, wondering if the preliminary test results were wrong, Blaze moved on to the full test results—and nearly spit his coffee everywhere when those tests stated that Cam was, in fact, ninety-one percent dragon.
Fucking hell. Cam should be serving a life sentence somewhere as a malcontent, violent, uncontrollable bane to society. It was a miracle he hadn't managed to trigger his dormant dragon genes himself. Blaze shoved his mug aside and read through it all again, pouring over every sentence.
All the hallmarks of a dragon were there: loner, very self-sufficient, disinclined to work with or under others, intimidating, plus the fixation on strawberries ... all of the signs were there, but based on the report, Blaze would have put the dragon potential at forty percent best.
"Incredible," he muttered. It had to be a quad-black. There were only three quad-blacks in the country last he'd heard, and twenty-four in the whole world. No wonder Rust was willing to trade taking him out of the pit fights with Blaze stealing the dragon for him.
He was pulled from the papers by a low, angry growl, and looked up towards the kitchen door where Erie stood sulking with a hurt look on his face. "New dragon? Better than Erie?"
Blaze smiled. "No one could be better than you, Erie. You're not incredible, you're perfect. Come here, silly lizard."
Growling happily, Erie prowled forward to sit on the floor, curling close against his chair and resting his head against Blaze's thigh. "Good master."
"Good Erie," Blaze replied, keeping one hand threaded through Erie's soft hair as he resumed reading. When he finally finished, he leaned back with a sigh and drained his cooled coffee. "I don't know what's going to happen when we meet the dragon, Erie, but I get the feeling that shit is going to get crazy. It's also going to get bloody. It always does when power like this is in play."
Just thinking about it sent a chill across the back of his neck, a crawling sensation that had him rubbing his neck as though expecting to find a spider. Thinking about things going wrong made him think of Ken, and
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