Blood Charged (Dragon Blood, Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

probably goes without saying, but my preference is to have you all in and out without ever being seen. The repercussions might be less harsh if the Cofah can’t prove we had anything to do with their missing samples.”
    “We understand, Sire,” Therrik said.
    Ridge nodded, though he still hated the idea of having Therrik in charge of this. He supposed the colonel couldn’t be too much of an ass on the mission, not when Ridge’s team would be his only way home.
    “Dismissed,” the king said.
    Ridge pushed back his chair, as did Ort and Nowon.
    “May I have one more word with you in private, Sire?” Therrik asked, glancing at Ridge.
    The king nodded. Ridge didn’t like that quick glance, but he walked away with the others. He did , however, dawdle, pausing on the other side of a large shrub to prop his boot on the pot and tie the laces.
    “What is it?” Angulus asked.
    “Captain Nowon’s people handle external intelligence gathering,” Therrik said, “but my old unit handled internal, and I’ve been made aware of some interesting developments of late.”
    That might explain how the colonel knew about Ahn and Tolemek’s relationship, something Ridge hadn’t thought would be common gossip outside of his squadron. He lifted his other boot to retie the laces.
    “Your point?” the king had moved away from the table, and Ridge barely heard the words. He parted the branches of the shrub. The men were walking toward one of the windows overlooking the garden.
    “Zirkander’s witch,” Therrik said, and Ridge’s heart nearly stopped. “Are you sure we shouldn’t—”
    “Colonel,” Ort hissed from the doorway. “What are you doing?”
    Ridge wanted to wave him away, to shush him so he could hear the rest, but the king and Therrik had moved out of earshot, anyway. Damn, he needed to know what they were talking about.
    Ridge raced toward the doorway, almost knocking Ort aside as he blurted, “I’ll meet up with you at the hangar, General. I need to piss.”
    He glanced back, catching Ort giving that potted plant a long, concerned look. Ridge ran through the hallway, but instead of racing toward the front door, he ran in the opposite direction, then swung into a narrow staircase that led down to a door to the gardens. He vaguely remembered indoor latrines somewhere in that direction and thought his excuse might be plausible. Even if it wasn’t, he would risk demerits from Ort. He had to know what they were saying about Sardelle. It wasn’t surprising that the intelligence department had put the pieces together—just because he hadn’t mentioned her role in the battle back at the mines didn’t mean there hadn’t been witnesses and that the truth would come out—but if someone like Therrik knew about her, how many other people might know? And what did the king think?
    The side door was thankfully unguarded. Ridge charged out and hopped the fence into the gardens. Despite the day’s sun, three inches of snow blanketed everything. He ran through the melting stuff, following the side of the building, forcing himself to slow as he neared the first open window on the greenhouse balcony above. He hugged the wall so nobody looking out from above should see him. The sounds of birds chirping floated out, but he couldn’t hear voices. He crept to the next open window. A shadow moved behind the glass. The king? The faint murmur of a conversation reached his ears, but he couldn’t make out the words.
    The skeleton of a vining plant, its leaves shed months ago and snow blanketing its brown limbs, snaked up the brick side of the building, passing the window and reaching all the way to the roof of the greenhouse. Ridge had no idea if it would support his weight—the center trunk was about three inches thick, but didn’t look very hale beneath the snow—but desperation drove him to try.
    He gripped the plant and pulled himself off the ground. The trunk shivered, and snow splatted down his shoulders, but it didn’t