Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

should deck your ass more often.”
    “Try it.” Dillon still tasted that sound on his tongue. Strange how that ball of anger, resentment, pain diffused with one well-aimed punch and one line so corny he’d never let Mason live it down. “I shouldn’t have said…about Mrs. Butler.” He touched his crooked nose. “I am a prick.”
    Mason held up his hands, palms out. “No comment.”
    More chuckles buoyed Dillon’s mood. “Probably safer that way.”
    “Hey,” Church yelled from several tents down the line. “You’re going to want to see this.”
    Refusing Mason’s help, Dillon stood and started walking. “What is it?”
    “You’ve got to see it.” Church turned on his heel and waved. “Come on or you’ll miss her.”
    “Her?” Dillon echoed.
    “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Mason jogged to catch up and passed over a scroll.
    Once he broke the seal, Dillon fumbled the paper as something caught his eye. “Oh hell.”
    “That is one crazy female.” Church grinned. “Anyone we know?”
    They’d circled back to the edge of the colony, where tents met desert and open sky. Now that Dillon was looking straight on, gawking more like it, he saw the spray of glinting sand was caused by a tiny, buck-ass-naked figure racing for the colony on horseback. His curse made heads turn. He crumpled the parchment in his fist. No need to read it now. He knew what it said.
    “I tried to warn you.” Mason returned his attention to the horse and its rider.
    Heart pounding, Dillon lifted his chin, sought the breeze and inhaled his confirmation. “Isabeau.” His voice sounded sandblasted. “Why is she…? What does she want?” Couldn’t be him.
    “You.” Mason’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I swung by the consulate this morning to check for messages and ran into her. We got to talking, and she asked about you. I told her—”
    Dillon could guess. “That I wasn’t following healer’s orders.”
    “Hey,” Mason defended. “It’s not my fault if she was worried enough to come all this way.”
    Dillon’s leg throbbed like a damned homing beacon. “You shouldn’t have let her come.”
    “I couldn’t stop her.” His tone said he didn’t think he should have anyway.
    Isabeau hadn’t contacted him in weeks, hadn’t seen him in nearly a month. There was no point. His leg was beyond her help. She’d saved what she could, removing part of his infected calf muscle rather than making the easy choice of amputation. For that, he was grateful. Now theirs was a waiting game to see if demon biology overcame the loss of so much muscle tissue. Hope had never been Dillon’s forte, and he wasn’t about to hold his breath hoping for a regenerative miracle now. He had reason to think it was possible, but it’d be a long time coming.
    Russ stepped from the shadows and joined the rapidly growing crowd.
    “Is that safe?” he asked. “Just because we didn’t see raiders doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
    Church pointed between himself and Isabeau. “Should I go…?”
    Dillon vibrated as a growl worked through his chest. The female was insane. She knew raiders patrolled the colony’s borders. She knew they’d detonated an explosive and collapsed the rear of the mines several months ago. She knew, because shrapnel from the blast had caused the infection that landed him in her care. Though attacks on the caravans had stopped, and the raider’s presence had diminished, streaking across the dunes—even on horseback—was sheer stupidity.
    “Saddle Diani,” Dillon snarled. Mason bolted to fetch Harper’s mare. She’d appreciate the chance to stretch her legs. Dillon glared into the night as if his will could manifest her clothing.
    He was pacing by the time an eager trumpet announced Diani’s arrival. Fisting the reins, he lifted his bad leg and fit his boot into the stirrup. When he forced his foot to hold his weight while he swung onto her back, his vision tunneled. “Give me five