Dragonthrone – Snippet

Today, I’m sharing the very first snippet from Dragonthrone – the second book in the Tamora Andrews series.

We were halfway to the door when a group of men got up from the table they were sitting at. They had been eyeing us and whispering among each other while I had been talking to Nassim, so I wasn’t really surprised when the biggest of them blocked out path. The man was big all over, with muscles threatening to rip out of his t-shirt. His face was made from harsh lines that gave him a brutish look, but his eyes were the most startling, pretty blue. His head was shaven, and a long ragged scar covered half of his scalp. A long knife sat at his hip, the grip worn and chipped. A tool, not a showpiece, then.
“We don’t like your kind around,” he said, crossing his massive arms over his chest. A stupid move. It looked threatening but would slow him down if he had to draw his blade.
“Women?” I asked. He wasn’t the first person to resist letting dragons into society. Most people carried old fears, and some even bore grudges. When the dragons had been trapped as animals, they hadn’t cared who or what they killed or destroyed. Seeing the dragons walk around freely grated on some people’s sense of justice. I couldn’t really blame them for it, but I really didn’t have the patience for bullshit. Especially not today.
He blinked and stared at me as if I was stupid. “Dragons. Filthy animals.” He spat on the floor, and I wanted to roll my eyes.
“Of course. Filthy animals. Probably spitting on floors and spilling beer all over the place.” I stared at the spit glob on the floor and then at the nasty table he and his friends had been occupying.
The man turned red in the face and uncrossed his arms. Ruair and Sibeal both stood a bit straighter, but I shook my head a little. If they got involved, the whole bar would descend into a brawl. We didn’t have time for that.
“Hey, don’t talk to him like that, you bitch,” a thinner man shouted from the group.
“Yeah, teach her some respect, Bull,” another man shouted.
The rest of the patrons of the bar had stopped pretending not to care and were openly staring at us. Those closest to us had moved out of the splatter zone in case it got physical. Nassim was still behind the bar. He probably wouldn’t interfere unless we started breaking his bar.
Bull eyes me, then Ruair and Sibeal, who had both taken a step back when I shook my head, signalling that they wouldn’t join the fight. They were watching my back and each other. The atmosphere in the room was getting heavy, and it wasn’t unlikely that someone else would use the distraction to try and settle an old grudge against the dragons.
“Just walk away,” I told Bull. I knew it was useless, but I felt a warning was only fair. “You might not know me, but look around. No one else is helping you. They know who I am and what I can do.”
Bull looked around him quickly, and I saw the doubt on his face. Then his gaze hit his comrades, still edging him on, and I knew it would end in a fight. If he backed down, he would lose face.
His hands flexed at his side, inching towards the blade. I had to do this fast and brutal enough to dissuade his friends from joining the fight.
His draw was practised and sure, but the problem with big muscles was they restricted your movements and slowed you down. I turned, his blade barely slicing into my upper arm, grabbed one of the small triangular daggers from my belt, and pushed it into his elbow joint. Bull bellowed as blood splattered onto the floor. I ducked under his arm, went to my knee, and jammed another dagger into the back of his knee joint. Before Bull finished falling, I was on my feet, facing his friends. He writhed on the ground sending blood dripping all around him.
“I’m not gonna tell you again. Move out of my way.” The men parted, and I looked at Ruair and Sibeal. The two dragons stepped around the blood and walked out the door. I gave Bull one last glance before I followed. What a fucking waste. Just before I walked out the door, I turned around. The bar was completely silent except for Bull’s cursing. I dug a few coins out of my pocket and threw them on a table.
“For the cleanup,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear, gave Nassim a last nod, and left the prancing goat behind.

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