Page 6 of The Dragon's Mate Proposal

“Okay.” He stood still, a twisted grin on his bearded face, blue eyes locked on me, while hair he’d dyed a dark gray fluttered slowly in the midday breeze. “Come on, then. I’m right here.”

I took one step toward him.

The next thing I knew, I was on the pavement, staring up at the sky, stars whirling across my vision, followed by a puddle of darkness.

Woozily, I reached up with my right hand, my fingers coming away covered in red. Blood. But how?

The first attacker stepped into view, a length of metal in his hands.

“You’ve been avoiding Kalann’s calls, Cade,” he snarled, his long black hair tied back in a single braid. The disgust dripping from his words was mirrored by the sneer on his square jaw. Green eyes stared down at me with contempt.

“I don’t have a phone,” I said, blinking away the worst of the surprise attack.

“Oh, we have a funny guy, Lincoln. A real fucking comedian.”

“I’ve seen more comedy in the mirror,” Lincoln, the bearded goon, said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “This is just pathetic, Reed.”

Curling my hand into a fist, I struggled to get up.

Reed kicked me in the side of the head, sending the world spinning once again. I half-rolled over, but he put a foot on my chest, pushing me down. “You owe Kalann a lot of gold, Cade. A lot of gold.”

“I’m well aware of that,” I hissed. “Why do you think I was here? A fucking tourist trip? I’m working on it.”

“Not hard enough,” Reed spat. “Not hard enough. Kalann is getting tired of waiting for you to repay him. So, he sent us to deliver a little message.”

“Consider it received,” I said.

“Not yet,” Reed hissed, taking his foot off my chest just long enough to break my nose with his fist.

“Wab-‘out ‘ow?” I asked. “I gob ip. Oud an keer.”

“Nah, that one was for me,” Reed said. “Because you’re being a loudmouthed piece of shit. Kalann’s message is simple. You have thirty days. Pay in gold, or you’ll pay in blood. Simple as that. Got it?”

I nodded.

“Good.” Reed hauled me to my feet, patting my shoulders, straightening my shirt, and brushing it clear of dust. “I’m glad. I really didn’t want to have this misunderstanding. We were only supposed to deliver the message about the thirty days.”

Lincoln cleared his throat dramatically. Reed looked over. “Yes?”

“Well, actually, Reed …” He sounded like a bit part actor reading directly from a teleprompter.

“What is it?”

“There was another part to it,” Lincoln said with false sincerity.

“There was?” Reed’s acting was no better.

“Yes. There was. We ‘re supposed to make sure he understood the message. Thoroughly.”

Reed’s face brightened. “Oh. Right. Silly me. How could I forget?” His eyes focused on me again. “I guess I was wrong. I did want this misunderstanding.”

Then he kneed me in the gut.

I bent over just in time to take his other knee in the jaw. I stumbled backward into reach of Lincoln, who smashed a piece of concrete over my head. I fell flat onto the ground. Reed picked me up and decked me across the face as Lincoln held me by the shoulders.

I spun around. The two of them worked me over for a few more minutes until Reed tossed me through the hole I’d blown in the side of the Federal Reserve Bank. I skidded over the broken tile, the stone cool to the touch.

Until, suddenly, there was no more stone.

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