“I guess I should confess something,” she finally answered. “You have a right to know.”
So she is pregnant. I hope she will want to stay with me, for I can’t just let her walk away from me while she has my child in her womb. “Tell me.”
“I stole money from Tank.”
So prepared for one answer, Ronan almost didn’t hear what she did indeed say. “What?”
Daryl drew a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have, I know, since Tank is so damn dangerous. But it was right there; I couldn’t just walk away from it. He had gotten into an argument with the seller of the dope, and I grabbed it and ran.”
Ronan eyed her, amused. “How much?”
“I didn’t count it, but I overheard Tank say something that the cases had over five hundred Gs.”
“Five hundred what?”
“Grand. As in thousand.”
Ronan sucked in his breath. “You stole over five hundred thousand dollars from Tank?”
“Yeah.” Daryl shoved her hands into her pockets. “Stupid move, right? But that would set me up somewhere else, maybe Oregon, and start me over fresh. That’s why he’s after me.”
“Where is it?”
“In a locker at a bus terminal,” Daryl answered, her expression wary as she glanced at him again. “I can trust you, right?”
“You know you can,” Ronan replied. “That’s why you told me.”
“So, now, what do we do? I haven’t gone after it as I figure Tank will have watchers in all the stations.”
“What were you planning originally?” he asked.
“To lock it up near transportation.” Daryl glanced around at the people walking all around them, at the passing traffic on the street. “Then after I got clean, I’d get it out, buy a ticket, then leave this town behind.”
“So why can’t we do that?”
Daryl stopped, the pedestrians streaming around them as she stared up at Ronan. “You’d go with me?”
“If you want me to.”
Taking his hand, Daryl walked on, pulling him with her. “Yeah, I do,” she finally said. “You saved my ass twice, and you’re pretty cool to hang with.”
He laughed. “You’re pretty cool yourself.”
“So maybe after we eat, we’ll take a cab to the bus station. Get the money, then go back to the hotel.”
“And from there?”
She smiled up at him. “Tomorrow, we’ll get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Holy Christ, I am so fucked.”
If Tank thought he was scared the night the green-eyed freak broke his arm, it was nothing compared to the high-octane terror he felt now. He had lost Two-Bit and Flame when he bolted in terror, the dragon’s fire searing his flesh. He had hailed a cabbie with his shirt still smoking, his belly and chest under it red and blistered.
“Playing with matches, eh?” the cabbie drawled.
“Shut the fuck up and drive.”
Even as he spoke, Tank knew his voice shook, and his usual bravado was gone. Vanished as fast as the dragon had appeared. How in the name of God can a dragon even exist? Had he not seen it for himself, seen the fire it blasted at Flame, and himself come so close to being set ablaze, he’d never have believed it.
“Where to?”
Still in shock and panic, Tank needed a moment to even think of his address. He gave it and quelled his shudders as the taxi drove him to his neighborhood in the Bronx. Where Two-Bit and Flame had gone, he had no idea. Maybe Two-Bit’s dead. He was still there when I took off. Maybe the fucking thing ate Daryl. Don’t dragons eat girls?
If the damn beast ate her, then Tank would never find his money. Yet, he almost believed her when she said she didn’t take it. She said she wasn’t the only one there that night he was to buy the hundred kilos of uncut heroin from the seller. With an investment of five hundred grand, Tank stood to make five million once the dope had been cut and sold.
Was someone else there that night? Pondering that night over a month ago helped calm Tank’s nerves. Maybe there was. A couple of hookers wanted to buy a couple grams off him, just as Daryl had. Maybe one of them took it. Something to check into.
By the time the taxi dropped him off at his pad, Tank had almost convinced himself the dragon hadn’t really been there. Almost. The fierce burning on his chest and belly under his charred and blackened shirt reminded him that it indeed existed.
Soothing himself with a bottle of whiskey and a Vicodin, Tank sat on his sofa with the lights off, his Glock beside him. When the front door rattled, he nearly shot through it. He lowered the gun when he recognized Two-Bit. “You made it.”
“Christ have mercy.” Two-Bit’s voice sounded nearly as shaky as his own. “A fuckin’ dragon, man. Can I have some of dat?”
Tank handed him the bottle. “Help yourself.”
Two-Bit drank straight from the bottle, then sat on the couch near him. His hands trembled as he pulled a cigarette from the pack, then lit up. He took a long drag, the street light from outside illuminating his tense and scared face. For someone who wasn’t afraid of anything, Two-Bit now appeared as terrified as Tank.
He tried to imagine what it would feel like to burn to death. To have his brains boiling inside his skull, his eyes melting and oozing down his cheeks. The intense agony of his skin in flames...
Shuddering, he gingerly touched his blackened shirt and the tender flesh beneath it.
Accepting the bottle back, Tank took another drink. Between the drug and the booze, he was starting to feel woozy. His pain had subsided, but not enough for him to deny what now stared him in the face—the realization that dragons do indeed exist. And it could have killed him.
“Think it killed her?” he asked, his words slurred.
“Dunno, man.” Two-Bit calmed a little between the whiskey and the cigarette. At least he wasn’t shaking so hard. “Where’d it come from?”
“Maybe it’s always been here,” Tank mused, floating on the wave of Vicodin in his blood. “Like those monster gators are supposed to be living in the sewers.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s been livin’ down der,” Two-Bit exclaimed, his face pasty white. “Been eatin’ folks. People disappear, ya know? Took Daryl and ate her up, man.”
“Then why didn’t it kill us?” That troubled Tank, the question sifting through the haze in his brain. “It coulda killed us, but it didn’t.”
“Dunno,” Two-Bit repeated, taking another drink from the bottle. “Maybe it weren’t so hungry.”
Tank’s cell in his pocket buzzed, making him jump. Two-Bit stared at him, wide-eyed, as he pulled the phone out and looked at the caller ID. He didn’t recognize the number, but it could be a customer. “What?”
“Tank? This is Eddie.”
For a moment, Tank had no idea who Eddie was. He spoke to buy himself a little time to remember. “Yeah?”
“I got word you been lookin’ fer Daryl.”
Realization flooded his mind like a surging wave, breaking the haze for a moment. “I am. You seen her?”
“Yeah. She and this big dude are staying where I work. The Royal Ascot Arms, Staten Island.”
Now he could place Eddie. A kid who worked as a bellhop in the fancy hotel. “Yeah, got you, thanks, Eddie.”
“I heard you put a big reward on her,” Eddie went on. “You gonna still pay?”
“Sure, Eddie, no sweat.”
“I need the dough, man. When you gonna pay up?”
“When I see you next.”
Before Eddie could say anything else, Tank clicked the phone off. “Daryl and her squeeze are on Staten Island.”
Two-Bit nodded, no longer interested in Daryl or her boy-toy. “Then it didn’t kill her. So where was the guy tonight?”
“Dunno.”
Tank leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. Behind his lids, colors whirled and danced, making him feel slightly sick. “But we’ll find ‘em,” he muttered. “Get my Gs back. Kill ‘em. No one – no one – steals—”
&nbs
p; Before he finished what he tried to say, Tank fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
Daryl climbed out of the taxi as Ronan paid the driver, looking around at the pedestrians, the traffic, and most especially the parked cars. The Greyhound bus terminal was a huge building with gray buses lined up under a shelter with the running dog on their sides. People milled near them, their luggage at their feet as porters loaded or unloaded according to destination.
When Ronan took her hand, she said in an undertone, “I’m not sure if choosing this place to park the cash was such a great idea.”
He frowned, looking around as she had. “Why?”
“Too obvious. It’s not far from where I took it in the first place, and in Tank’s mind, it’d be the first place he’d stake out.”
She looked up at him with a wry smile. “But my head wasn’t on straight at that time, and it made sense then. It doesn’t now.”
“So if Tank is watching this place, how would he do it?”
“He’d have some of his bangers lurking.”
Once again, Daryl gazed around the employee parking lot, the cars parked along the street, the milling people. She saw nothing amiss, didn’t see anyone sitting in cars, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood up anyway. “We need to get out of here,” she muttered.
Ronan asked no questions but walked with her as she strolled back to the street. Taking his hand, she said, “If we’re being watched, which my gut says we are, then we just told Tank the money is here.”
“Can he get to it?”
She shook her head. “It’s in a locker, and the key is hidden where he’d never find it. If he started taking lockers apart, security would be on him like white on rice.”
Berating herself for hiding the money in an easy place for Tank to guess, then leading him straight to it, Daryl headed away from the bus terminal. “Maybe us suddenly leaving will confuse them,” she muttered, “make them think we’re headed to it now.”
“What will they do?” Ronan asked, glancing casually around.
“Catch us. Torture us. Make us tell them where it is.”
“Is that all?”
Daryl glanced up into his amused expression. “This is serious shit we’re in,” she snapped, exasperated. “It’s not funny.”
“Just how easy is it to capture and torture a fire-breathing dragon?”
Shock stopped her in her tracks. “Oh, shit. I sorta forgot that part.”
“Yeah, I thought you had.”
Her hand tugged him onward. “Even so, you’re not supposed to show yourself to humans. You can’t just fly around in the middle of New York City and burn the bad guys to a crisp.”
“Nor will I let myself be captured,” he replied easily. “Or you. I’ll do what I have to do to protect you.”
“While that’s reassuring,” Daryl said, still glancing over her shoulder, “I don’t want to see you as a circus sideshow freak.”
“What is that?”
“A—” she began, then caught sight of the black Lincoln SUV that drove slowly, too slowly, behind them. “I think we’ve got company.”
Ronan also half-turned. “The black vehicle?”
“Yep. Lot’s of tinted windows to hide behind. We can’t tell how many are in there.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ronan replied with a grin. “Let’s keep going and see what they do.”
“Shouldn’t we run?”
“Not yet. We keep to the main street with all the people around, and maybe they’ll decide it isn’t worth the risk.”
“Why isn’t there a cop around when you need one?” she snapped under her breath.
“Why do we need a cop?”
“They see us pointing them out to a cop, they might take off.” Daryl suddenly stared at Ronan. “You don’t have any ID, do you?”
“You mean identification? No, I don’t.”
“Which means you’re here illegally.” Daryl blew out a sharp gust of breath. “While they can’t prove you’re illegal if you say your license was stolen, it still might create a hassle. I guess we should avoid cops if we can.”
The sound of car doors forced Daryl to throw another glance over her shoulder. Three young guys with tattoos had gotten out of the SUV and now strolled toward them, their intent clear. The Lincoln continued to roll, which meant at least one was still inside.
“Run,” she hissed.
With Ronan beside her, Daryl broke into a fast run, dodging pedestrians and shoppers emerging from stores. Fearing to look back and potentially slam into someone, causing a fall, she ran as fast as she could. The guys behind her might easily catch up, and if they did, Ronan’s dragon couldn’t save them. He can’t turn dragon in broad daylight; he must not.
“They’re going back to their vehicle,” Ronan told her, not even out of breath.
“They haven’t given up,” she said, slowing enough to look.
Sure enough, the Lincoln with the tinted windows had speeded up and followed them down the street. It got caught behind a slower van, and, horn honking angrily, went around it. It would catch up to them in seconds, and spill armed men out of it. Daryl’s heart slammed against her ribs in fear, knowing how these guys could kidnap them off the street and no one would see a thing.
“Down here,” Ronan ordered, pushing her toward an alley.
“No,” she tried to protest, almost out of breath. “Not an alley.”
Free of people walking on the street, she could run faster, but she couldn’t outrun a Lincoln. The black SUV roared up behind them, and Daryl knew that Ronan had just made a very bad mistake.
We were a little safer on the street. Even if we were ducking into a shop, it was public.
Suddenly, Ronan stopped running. Daryl ran on a little further before realizing he was no longer with her and stopped. “Ronan!” she yelled.
The black Lincoln bore down on him as he faced it, fearless, standing his ground.
“What are you doing?” she screamed.
What he had planned became evident almost immediately. Where once a broad-shouldered young man stood, a black dragon filled the entire alley. Daryl could not see beyond his bulk, his wings flared as far as they could from wall to wall, his long tail that ended in a spade. But she heard the screech of tires skidding as the Lincoln shuddered to a halt.
She may not have been able to see the Lincoln, but she could, and did, see the wall of flames that shot from Ronan’s gaping jaws. She felt its tremendous heat, like the fire from a blast furnace, even though she was behind him. No! You kill them; you’re a murderer!
Over the roar of the flames, Daryl heard screams of terror, of panic. Covering her ears with her hands, she cringed, knowing she’d hear them die, burned to death under Ronan’s dragon fire. Her eyes closed, she waited to hear their terrible cries as they burned to death. Mary, have mercy.
She jumped in fear when a hand touched her arm.
Ronan gazed down at her, half-smiling, his brows lowered in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“I…”
Gazing past him, she saw the Lincoln burning merrily, igniting the trash cans and dumpsters to either side. But she saw no corpses. “You killed them,” she moaned. “Trapped them in the car and burned them. Oh, my God.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she shut them against the vision of the bangers dying in the inferno. No matter what they’d done, they didn’t deserve a fate like that. “You shouldn’t have done that, Ronan. Oh, God.”
He clicked his tongue. “Are you through yet?”
Opening her eyes, Daryl stared up at him. “What?”
“They aren’t dead.” Ronan gestured toward the burning SUV. “They bolted when they saw me. I set that on fire to discourage them from following.”
“They’re—alive?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled her down the alley with him. “Yeah, they’re fine. But we better get out of here. The authorities will be coming to put that fire out.”
Even as they ran down the alley agai
n, sirens wailed in the distance. Curious bystanders emerged to gawk at the burning Lincoln, staring as the two of them ran past. Daryl felt a wild caw of laughter bubble up. “They’ll think we set it on fire.” She laughed, the release of her tension making her bray like a mule. She couldn’t seem to help it.
“Well, I did.”
“Let’s hope they can’t identify either of us.”
Escaping the area where the New York City Fire Department put out the mysteriously burning Lincoln SUV, Daryl led Ronan back to the main street. Like many others, they watched as the smoke curling up from beyond the buildings gradually faded. As one worry faded, another rose to take its place.
“But they saw you,” Daryl said as she and Ronan started walking back toward the bus terminal. “They’ll say a dragon set it on fire.”
He gazed down at her. “Who will believe them?”
“Oh, jeez, rub it in,” she exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m being stupid, just tell me.”
“I won’t say that, Daryl,” he told her, no smile in place. “You’re worried and not thinking right. If those men try to tell the authorities a dragon nearly killed them, what will the authorities do?”
“Have them drug tested,” she replied with a grin. “Put them in a holding cell until they sober up. Meanwhile, check them for outstanding warrants and discover they are most likely wanted for something.”
“And those men know this, right?”
Holding his arm, Daryl leaned against him, grinning up into his face. “You bet your boots, they know.”
“Then I expect they won’t say a word about seeing a black dragon in an alley.” Ronan put his arm around her and kissed her head. “You’re worrying more than you should be.”
“That’s why you wanted us down the alley. Right?”
He winked. “You’re catching on.”
Daryl pondered heading back to the depot to collect the big cases filled with the money. “Let’s wait before we get the cash from the locker,” she murmured. “Tank will suspect it’s there after those guys tell him what happened, but maybe we can pull a little trick on him.”
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