How to Lose Your Dragon (The Immortality Curse Book 1), Peter Glenn [e book reader for pc .txt] 📗

to calculate it out. “Well, you’ll see soon enough, and… hopefully not much more than a lamp or two and a new door handle.”

Sheila shook her head again and sighed. “You really are an asshole, Damian. Kinda cute, but an asshole.”

We both burst out laughing that time.

Two hours later, I watched from behind the big couch in the living room as someone I couldn’t see played with the door handle to the basement. They were jiggling it every which way and making quite the racket. If anyone had been around other than me, they would have instantly been alerted to it.

“Amateur,” I muttered under my breath. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. It’s not like I’d had a lot of prisoners to choose from or anything.

The door handle shook a few more times, and then I heard a loud crash and a clanking noise as the handle dropped to the ground. It sounded like Bevan had literally torn it off the hinge.

I winced a little. I hadn’t expected that little rudimentary lock to be so hard for him to undo. Was this stunt going to cost me two door handles?

A second later, the door flew open and Bevan came stumbling out of the basement. His hulking form looked a little confused, and his eyes were closed, blocking out the light. There were still bits of rope tied around his legs and wrists, but otherwise, he looked to be just fine.

I ducked my head to make sure he didn’t see me sitting there, looking straight at him. I had to give up watching him to do it, but my plan depended on him thinking he was in the clear.

Bevan’s breathing increased a little, and I heard him cough once as he strode about the room a bit. He made a bit of a groaning noise as he shambled about, smacking into a side table and sending the picture frames on it sprawling to the ground.

Another crash and the sound of glass breaking a moment later let me know that my earlier calculations had been pretty close. One door handle and only one lamp, but also a picture frame. At least it wasn’t two lamps. Those were pricey. I’d have to make it up to Sheila after this was over.

Man, Mei’s father hadn’t even paid me yet, and already I’d spent most of his money.

I heard the front door swing open and the sound of someone huffing and panting as they threw themselves down the stairs and out into the street beyond.

“You really think this will work?” Sheila said. She was standing against the wall near the hallway furthest from the front door, lightly tapping her foot. “Surely not even Bevan is this dense.”

I shrugged and grinned at her. “What other choice do we have, really? It’s not like we can call the cops.”

The sound of an engine starting floated through the air. It purred and hummed faintly, but it was there.

I stood up and looked over at Sheila. “Sounds like he took the bait.”

Sheila shook her head. “Lucky bastard.” She scoffed. “You’d better pay me back for that lamp.”

15

“Hey, slow down!” I demanded. I stopped short of putting my hands on the wheel, but only barely.

Sheila flinched for the thousandth time - I don’t think she liked me side-seat driving - and obliged, slowing the car down to just a few miles an hour.

“Is that it?” she asked, pointing at the car in front of us that was stopped on the side of the road.

A quick look at the car and the missing driver’s side door, combined with the massive dents in the passenger door and broken window told me it was, indeed, our target. My poor little stolen rental car. There was no way I could return it now. But it had served a good purpose. Bevan had been so happy to be free of his chair and the basement, he hadn’t even realized we’d been tailing him all the way out here.

Wherever here was.

“Uh huh. Let’s stop here. Don’t want them to see us before we’re ready,” I said.

Sheila nodded and pulled the car over into the gravel beside the road.

I got out of the car, strapping my katana to my belt, and took a good look around to absorb the surroundings.

The road was bare. Practically dirt all the way out here, though you could see a few spots where a more civilized road might have been at some point. Off in the distance stood an old, abandoned warehouse that had obviously seen better days. The metal roof was sinking in one spot, and I was pretty sure there wasn’t a single unbroken window left in the entire structure.

It had the look of one of those old logging facilities that had gone unused ever since the trees in the area had all been used up. Which made sense. Logging had been quite the industry several years ago. Still was in some areas, though the complete lack of any kind of vegetation in the immediate vicinity made it clear this wasn’t one of those areas.

“Why do the bad guys always pick abandoned warehouses?” I muttered, mostly to myself. It was so cliché. Seriously, pick a fabulous high rise in the middle of a metropolitan area as your base for once. But nope, it was always the rotting warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It was like the villain calling card or something.

“Are you sure they’re in there?” Rick asked, frowning at the big, rusty mess.

“Pretty sure,” I said. “The car is here, and there’s no sign of Bevan. And it’s not like there’s anywhere else around here to go.” I shrugged and gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be showtime for you soon enough. If you’re ready, that is.”

Rick snorted and patted that big tome of his. “I’ll be ready. You just need to clear the way first.”

A big grin crossed my lips, and I patted my katana. “Why, Rick, that’s my specialty.” I