Lord Dragon's Conquest by Sharon Ashwood Page B

caveman. She had a horrible urge to laugh.
    Green eyes held hers in a direct, considering regard. “Your team should leave.”
    His words snapped her back to reality. “Why do you say that?”
    He reached out a hand, his fingertips just shy of brushing her shoulder. “This place is perilous.”
    “Oh? Where is your safety gear? You don’t even have a flashlight.”
    A wry look crossed his face, almost as if she’d said something amusing. “I’m used to working in the dark.”
    “Doing what?”
    “You ask a great many questions.” He waved a hand toward the cave entrance. “I come here often for the view.”
    “I thought you worked in the dark.”
    “Ah. But on a clear day, it is possible to see all the way across the far valleys.”
    This time he smiled widely, and it was heart-stopping. Even brain-stopping. Keltie’s tongue refused to work for long, painful seconds. This was awful—she hadn’t felt this awkward since she’d been twelve. Something save me! An avalanche would do.
    Her curiosity came to her rescue. “Speaking of the view, do you know anything about these paintings?”
    Larkan followed her pointing hand and shook his head, seeming completely uninterested. “They’re old. No one knows who made them.”
    She was about to ask who he’d talked to, but a dry, slithering sound came from somewhere behind Larkan and made her jump. They both turned toward the deep shadows at the back of the cave. In the same instant a new scent filled the air. It was leathery, reminding Keltie of the worn pilot’s jacket her father used to wear. And then there was a scraping noise like bone against rock. Something in that rasp—so much like claws or the slide of fang on rib cage—sent panic jolting up her spine. She recoiled a step, her mind scrambling to put an image to that sound.
    Larkan spun to face her, and before she could react he was pushing her back to the outer cave. “You must leave. Now.”
    He was strong, but Keltie wasn’t about to be manhandled—not this way, anyhow. She shoved back. “Let go of me. What’s back there?”
    “I said there was danger.”
    Behind Larkan, she caught a glimpse of wings, webbed and angular like a prehistoric bird’s. They seemed huge, melding with the gloom of the cave as if they were made from shadows. From at least ten feet in the air ghastly yellow eyes glared into the beam of her flashlight. Keltie felt her jaw drop for an awful moment as every muscle froze in terrified astonishment. She’d faced down bulls, angry sows and even a bear, but this was more menacing. “What is that thing?”
    “Run!” Larkan commanded.
    This time she obeyed, snatching up her backpack. She spun and bolted for the passage to the outer cave, her pack banging against her side. She didn’t stop until she’d burst into the sunshine, feeling the heat of it surround her like armor. Whatever lived in that dark place wasn’t meant for the light of day. She was safe.
    Or so she hoped. She ran and ran, making it halfway down the mountain before she realized that she was alone. Panting, Keltie stopped, letting her backpack slide to the grass. Where was Larkan? What had just happened? She remembered his command to run. Had he come with her partway and stopped somewhere along the winding trail?
    And then...she recalled a faint glimpse of the man as he had turned to stand firmly in the path of the Thing. He had been between her and it, guarding her retreat.
    Stunned, Keltie remained motionless as the soft mountain breeze swirled past, smelling at once of green leaves and distant snow. Then she dropped to her knees, suddenly overwhelmed. No one had ever done anything like that for her before. She wasn’t the delicate, fragile type that men rescued.
    A rush of hot emotion flooded her—a mix of guilt, fear and gratitude.
    Anyone brave and stupid enough to face down a winged monster needed someone to cover his back. In an instant she was on her feet, grabbing her flashlight and a heavy