Read Plight of the Dragon for Free Online

corner of his eye.  
    “If we are being followed, will we lead them away from the Den? Or just stop here and kill them?” Leila asked and fell back into the seat. She didn’t sound exceptionally interested either way.
    Kill them, yes . Marcus’s tongue ran longingly along his teeth, and he sniffed the air once again. Fear. Plenty of fear. Human fear. “Pull over.”
    “Sir?” Darren tilted his head toward the back. The road ahead was barren. Mostly trees, with the occasional house buried deep within the thicket.  
    “Pull the damn car over, now.” Marcus was already opening the side door. The tires hit the side gravel, sending a shower of pebbles hammering like a hailstorm at the car’s underside. The car hadn’t come to a complete stop when Marcus stepped from the backseat. The door slammed closed, barely missing his arm, and the sedan swerved to a hard stop several feet beyond.  
    Light shimmered dimly through the trees, the sun barely beginning to peek its waking head over the horizon. Marcus caught sight of a small, battered pickup truck headed in their direction. Headlights flickered with each exaggerated bump in the road. It could be nothing, but if the fear emanating from the rusty wheel bucket meant anything, he was betting the little beater was someone tasked to follow him. And that someone had a pretty good idea of what they were following. He, or she, was scared out of their skin.  
    Marcus stepped into the shadows. The black sedan purred quietly, waiting in plain sight. Even though the distance between the two vehicles closed with each breath, the rate of closure was decreasing. The truck was slowing. But stopping, no. It ambled up to Marcus, its engine pinging and tinging. A great getaway car, it would never make. Marcus hunched his shoulders, planted his feet, and narrowed his stare on the truck’s little cab as it drove passed. Two men sat side by side. They probably planned to move by like nothing was amiss. Just a couple of guys running their daily errands. And it might have worked, had it not been for the stink of fear and the one man failing to hide his gaunt reflection of terror when he glanced out the side window.  
    His eyes said it all. He knew what Marcus was, of that there was no doubt.
    A roar reeled up Marcus’s throat. His leg swung back, throwing his body into a back twist-roll. A dark dance of the ages, limbs and shapes shifting, expanding. Garments ripping to shreds. Where once there was a man, now there was a gargantuan dragon. Dark and gnarly with innumerable sharp edges. A massive claw smashed down on the tailgate of the rambling truck, slamming it to a stop and smacking it into the road. Yelling erupted from the cab’s interior. Then an explosion of pops. Marcus was being assaulted with gunfire. The passenger hung out the side window, weapon in hand.  
    Marcus’s dragon howled, and smoke poured from his nostrils. Sucking back the vapors and filling them with his internal rage, he let loose hellfire. The truck’s paint scorched, bubbled, and peeled. The man squealed and ducked back into the cab. Picking up the vehicle, Marcus waved it once in his left claw, then tossed it to the side of the road. Ginormous dragon wings flapped as he turned, hitting and spinning the truck farther into the tree line.  
    “We’re under attack!” The words came from the wreckage, followed by an unrecognizable static reply. Damn two way radios. Marcus spun back and rushed the heap of metal. A man pulled himself from the vehicle, now sitting on its side, and stood on top of the wreckage. In his hand, he now held an automatic weapon. Marcus laughed, baring his teeth.  
    “You think that will stop me? Tiny human, you can’t stop me.” He lowered his head and snorted, covering the man in dragon smoke.  
    “Maybe I…” The man glanced through the window at his feet. “We won’t stop you today, but you can be sure Jon Davies will find a way.”
    The Black Dragon Marcus, now a mix of