Dragon's Blood (Black Planet Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

heavy silence behind him and grinned in the darkness. He knew exactly what she was thinking. The adrenaline had amped her in more ways than one; it had a way of making a fighter really horny afterwards.
    “I want you to ice those bruises. I’ve got a freezer. Doubt that you’ve got one.”
    “I do.”
    “Whatever.” He jumped up to a ledge. There was a bit of a delay before she followed. She was starting to feel the fight. He took her up another level and then crossed a sagging ramp.
    “Here.” He slipped in through a window, pausing as she followed. There was a door on the ground level of the building. The residents had long ago boarded it against the dregs prowling the streets and alleys. It took a certain level of skill and strength to enter the building without getting killed.
    The building had only a few functioning lights so they moved carefully in the partial darkness. They climbed up a stairway where he unlocked the padlock on the landing. There was a short hall leading to a heavy metal door.
    He pushed open the door and stood aside. “Home sweet home. Such as it is.”

    A nnie was stunned . The place was huge. Huge and open and had probably cost him more than a lifetime on a cop’s salary. To one side plants lined a bank of windows that faced east to the bay. They were on the extreme eastern edge of Wharf. The ocean breeze drifted in, clean and curiously empty of the scents of the thousands of bodies crowded in such tight proximity. Her place had been in the family for generations, but it didn’t compare to this. He had the entire floor of the building. The neighbors undoubtedly crammed eight or nine bodies into a space a fraction of the size.
    This was palatial.
    “Ohhh…” she groaned. He had a tub for hot baths. She had a weak, leaky shower and a basin that she sometimes ran warm water into. That bath was the promise of bliss.
    “Sorry, no heat just now.” He guided her to what was clearly a training area, where she took a seat on a worn weight bench. She sat, looking in awe as he lit a couple floor lamps. Electricity was available in Wharf, but it was prone to overloads and black-outs, and even fires if not properly wired. Nobody wanted to see Wharf lose whatever lighting it had. Nor did anyone want to see it burn down. She wondered if she had solar panels somewhere.
    “Strip. Let me see the damage.” She glared at him. He glared back. “Annie, don’t be stupid. If I’m to be your manager and trainer, I need to take care of you. So get over it.”
    “You were just supposed to get me the fights and take your cut. You’ve done that.”
    “Yeah, well, now my name’s attached to you, so my rep is at stake.” He stood firm, so she sighed and submitted. She rose stiffly and peeled off the skin-tight spandex shorts, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Then she stripped down to her sports bra.
    “Everything, Tanaka.” He wasn’t even looking. She turned her back and stripped to the skin.
    Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew the moment he saw it. She heard it in the sudden stillness, the soft intake of breath.
    “Nice ink.”
    “Thanks.”
    Before leaving for China, Meng Lee and his wife had given her the tattoo that marked Annie as a member of the Shen Lung school. She hadn’t been thrilled. Her Japanese roots associated tattoos with Yakuza , but they’d insisted. It had taken days. Most of the color had been applied using the old methods rather than high-tech tattoo guns. Hours and days of jaw-clenching, spine-twisting pain.
    The Shen Lung school didn’t belt, they didn’t give levels or rankings. You were a student, and when you were no longer a student, they marked you appropriately. She had no doubt there were plenty of students who would be forever marked as novice, simply because they couldn’t bear the pain of the tattoo.
    She’d never seen the entire tattoo, as her shame battled her pride. A clawed foot reached over her shoulder, a scaled tail looped down her hip.