Blood Charged (Dragon Blood, Book 3) by Lindsay Buroker Read Free Book Online Page A

where those went. People always give them to me whenever the squadron helps out in different parts of the country and lands long enough for a drink. I started to get concerned about my reputation after I received the tenth or twelfth. I do like a drink now and then, but does the average Iskandian subject think I’m perpetually drunk?” A heavy thud sounded as Ridge pushed the couch into the upright position. He was the first to admit it was loathsome, but he sprawled on it to read every night. Sardelle wondered if it was telling that it was the first thing he straightened.
    “Probably not if they’ve seen you fly.” Sardelle fished Jaxi out from beneath the bed and tucked her purloined scrolls behind the box of steins at the same time. “Those loopy loops and twisty screw moves you do would be difficult in an inebriated state.”
    It’s about time. None of this would have happened if you’d taken me with you in the first place.
    Keep nagging like that. It’ll ensure I want to take you places.
    Please, you know I’m perfectly capable of nagging, no matter where in the world you are.
    “Loopy… loops? I’m going to make sure nobody ever puts you on a committee for naming things.”
    “ Is there such a committee?” Sardelle had met a number of his pilots and had to wonder who had thought Pimples, Duck, and Weasel would be good names for brave young men who risked their lives daily.
    A knock sounded at the front door, and Ridge didn’t answer her.
    Same people, Jaxi?
    No. A man I haven’t encountered before. He has two pistols and a number of knives hidden under his jacket.
    Sardelle hurried out of the bedroom and entered the living room as Ridge opened the door. His hand twitched toward the pistol under his own jacket, and she tensed, ready to defend him.
    The man standing outside wasn’t tall, broad, or beefy, but he wore black trousers, a black turtleneck shirt, and a black jacket. He had fine features, a cleft chin, short sandy hair combed to one side, and frosty green eyes. Though he stood several inches shorter than Ridge, he had a presence that made him seem larger. Intimidating. Ridge didn’t take a step back, but something in the way he held his shoulders made Sardelle believe he wanted to. The man’s gaze swept past Ridge, taking in the disheveled living room—and her—with a faint sneer.
    “Ahnsung,” Ridge said. “I’d feign surprise that the guards let you on the post, but I suppose you go where you want.”
    “They don’t know I’m here.”
    “Seems they don’t know a lot of people are here these days. I’m going to talk to someone about additional training.”
    The man—Ahnsung—didn’t smile or give any indication that he appreciated the humor. It was the opposite, rather, with his brows lowering, as if he was considering a punch to Ridge’s nose. Or something worse. Sardelle might assume this was some superior officer, since Ridge so often butted heads with them, but if this man were in the military, wouldn’t he be wearing a uniform? It was the middle of the workday.
    “You here to threaten me again, Ahnsung?” Ridge asked.
    “No.” The green eyes closed to slits. “Though you’re fortunate you weren’t here last month. I would have shot you if you had been.”
    Sardelle gaped. Ridge merely grunted and said, “Not surprising.”
    Last month? What had been happening then? She and Ridge had still been up at that fort.
    “You’re about to take her into trouble again,” Ahnsung said.
    All at once, the puzzle pieces snapped into place. Her. Ahnsung. Last month, Lieutenant Ahn had been reported dead. This must be a relative. A father? Nobody had spoken of such a person to her, but other than the weekends at Ridge’s cabin, when she had been more intent on teaching Tolemek, Sardelle hadn’t spent much time with Ahn. The man was old enough to be her father. Late forties.
    “Amazing how quickly news from secret meetings with the king gets around,” Ridge said.
    How could