The Last Slayer by Nadia Lee

light. His hand was tight and rock steady around the jewel-encrusted hilt as he regarded me. Suddenly he didn’t look bored anymore.
    “Where did you learn the forbidden spell?” he demanded, his voice like a silken whip.
    An invisible vise clamped down on my chest, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. I gasped and collapsed on my side. My vision blurred and darkened.
    Nathanael eased the pressure slightly. “Speak.”
    “From…a book.”
    His eyes narrowed. I followed the movement of his sword as its tip descended and rested lightly on the hollow of my neck. “Give it to me.”
    “Don’t…have it…with me.”
    “Then you’ll fetch it. I vowed to not harm any mortals on this visit, but I regard those who can use draco perditio not as mortals, but as my enemies.”
    Had I thought he had no feelings? His eyes held a hint of fear and grief. Fear of me and…grief for the dead wyrm?
    Somehow I doubted that. And it scared me shitless that I’d managed to break his control.
    He stepped back and lowered his sword in one fluid motion. The pressure around my chest vanished. “Go.”
    It was an effort to get to my feet. Everyone—well, every mortal—looked horrified. Whether they were horrified at the dead wyrm or the sword or the spell I’d used, I couldn’t tell. The dragonlords merely stared at me, all of them now somehow holding long swords. Surely they weren’t afraid of me? I couldn’t even have managed a lighting spell after what I’d just done.
    Now I was on the dragonlords’ shit list. I guess it came under the heading of “work hazard,” but I was pretty sure the firm’s insurance wouldn’t cover this particular item.

Five
     
    I walked toward the parking lot. Every muscle in my body hurt like hell, but I went with as much dignity as possible, managing not to double over and moan. That would have been humiliating. Valerie stayed behind for damage control, and Andersen escorted me to my car.
    “Are you going to be all right?”
    “I guess.” Even if I weren’t, what could he do? Heal me?
    “Here. Valerie told me to give this to you.”
    A bottle of Sex. I drained the midsize vial, not wasting a drop, and felt slightly less crippled. Too bad she’d sent only one. I could’ve used at least five more, disgusting or not.
    “You shouldn’t have done that,” Andersen said.
    “Right. I should have just let the thing devour me.”
    Andersen’s mouth thinned. “You could have immobilized it. Killing it ruined our strategy.”
    “Strategy? To get Patterson killed?”
    “He knew what he was doing.”
    “He knew what he was doing. Swain knows what he’s doing.” I wanted to bang my head against the side of my Audi, but I didn’t have the energy. “Why don’t you find out what Patterson’s concentration was?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “In college. His major. He was a failed necromancer. What did he know about dragons?” I got into my car like an eighty-year-old. “I’m going to go get the book, since that’s what they want. Keep your eye on them and don’t let Swain invite any more wyrms.”
    Before he could say a word I turned the key and stepped on the accelerator, letting the momentum slam my door shut for me. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to why I should’ve restrained myself. My job description didn’t include “dragon fodder.”
    Traffic was congested and I revived a bit as I drove. Along my side of the road, mobs of people were waving various signs declaring their devotion to the dragonlords and screaming inanely. The cops keeping them back scowled at everyone. They were probably sick of dealing with idiots.
    On the other side, clots of religious fanatics called the groupies devil worshippers and other lovely things. They were so loud I could hear them over the radio, which I had blasting my favorite boy band.
    Freedom of religion. Had the founding fathers thought of this when they decided that it was a dandy idea for our great nation?
    A uniformed officer