Cowboy Dragon (Dragon Isle Book 7)

by Sophie Stern

  All the better to kill you with, my dear.

  He slices her throat and a scream dies in mine. My jaw drops open and obviously, the scent of fear fills the room because he whips around and sees me.

  “Just who I wanted to see,” he sneers. “Good morning, little sister. It’s been awhile.”

  I don’t let him finish speaking. He’s just killed my grandmother and as much as I want to call the cops, to yell, to fight, I know Jeffrey will kill me in a heartbeat because of what I saw.

  I grab the coffee pot from the stand and throw it at him, then race out of the kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door.

  His scream fills the house. The coffee probably burned, and I know the glass would have stung, but not long enough to hold him. I keep running to my car, start the engine, and drive off. He can’t chase me on foot. Not right now. I have a little bit of time to get away.

  But I don’t want to get away.

  I just want my Grams back.

  **

  Tears fill my vision as I drive rapidly down the road.

  I can’t go home. That’s the first place Jeffrey will look. If he’s looking for me, he’s probably found my cell phone upstairs, and it’s not like it would be hard to get my address from there. I can’t return. Not now. There’s no way I can risk something like that, so I decide to do the next best thing: go to the hunting cabin Grandma planned for us to spend the weekend at.

  When I reach the edge of the forest, I park my car. I stare at the entrance for what feels like an eternity. I should do this. I have to. I could always go hide at some fleabag motel or one of Gram’s real estate properties, I realize, but I’m too scared to do that. I can’t stand the idea of sitting around like a waiting duck, wondering who might see me or betray my location.

  In the forest, it’ll just be me and the wildlings.

  In the forest, no one can touch me.

  I can’t explain why I always feel safe there, but I do. Jeffrey won’t find me there and if he does, I can use one of Gram’s weapons she has squirreled away in the cabin. I’m no wilting flower. I’ll be okay.

  Before I run headfirst into the forest, though, I realize that I need to ditch my car. Even if he didn’t get a good look at it, Jeffrey has friends in high places. It wouldn’t take much for him to find out my license plate info.

  Hell, Jeffrey could even get the cops to start looking for me. Then what would I do? He’s older, smarter, and has more money than me. I don’t have a reputation or a record, but I also don’t have any friends on my side. And let’s be honest: little orphan Red is going to look a lot more like a liar than my brother.

  It’s just facts.

  He’ll play the concerned, well-meaning older sibling who just wants the best for his little sis. Then, as soon as he has me alone, it’s over.

  Done.

  I need to ditch the car.

  I pull back onto the road and drive a few miles down, then turn into a residential area. It’s not ideal, but I’m guessing someone isn’t going to report a random car parked on their street right away. It’s not like where if I park at a business or restaurant, the staff is going to complain about my car after a few hours and have it towed.

  Then he’ll find me right away.

  Since I hauled my duffel bag inside the house last night, I don’t have my clothes or anything of importance in the car. There’s a little bag of snacks, which I take, but Gram had planned to bring most of the food. I sling the backpack on my back and lock the car. I don’t know what to do with the keys, so I just pocket them and start walking back to the woods.

  The sun is finally starting to rise, but it’s stupid and pointless. I feel numb as I make my way back to the forest’s edge. I feel isolated. I feel empty. Gram is gone and there’s nothing I can do to change that.

  She’s gone.

  I try not to think about the hollow look in her eyes as her body slumped forward over the table. I try not to think about the blood. I try not to think about Jeffrey.

  But I can’t, and the tears start to fall.

  Pushing them back only works for so long, but by then, I’m at the edge of the woods. There’s no looking back now. I have to go on. If he finds me, that’s it. I pray and hope he doesn’t remember the hunting cabin. I don’t think Gram ever took him to it, so luck is on my side if I play my cards right.

  I only hesitate for a moment before heading down the familiar path. One last look at the quiet town behind me, then I'm gone. I have to be. I can't be at my apartment when Jeffrey arrives or I won't stand a fighting chance. He's bigger, stronger, and smarter than me. He's more vicious. He'll do anything if it means getting what he wants, no matter what the cost.

  And no one can stop him, not even the police.

  The cabin I plan to hide out in is a two-day hike from the forest’s edge. Grams and I planned to come through the north side of the forest, making it only a half-day hike, but I don’t want to spend any more time driving than I have to. If I drive around, Jeffrey or one of his minions will find me. That’s small town life for you.

  The cabin doesn't hold any magical powers or have a hefty stash of weapons or house a savior who can rip me out of this nightmare I've been living in. No, it doesn't have any of that. It's just a quiet place where my grandmother used to take me. It's a quiet haven that Jeffrey doesn't know about. He certainly doesn’t remember it. I try to remember if he’s ever been there. I don’t think he has. Grams always liked me more, which sounds mean, but is true. Jeffrey never really wanted a relationship with her, so she spent most of her time with me.

  And oh, how we loved that cabin.

  It's a place where I can be alone and I can be safe and I can hide until I figure out what to do.

  Right now, I have no idea how I'm going to survive the next few days or even the next few weeks. I know I'll have to return to Ashborne eventually. I'll have to go back and claim my inheritance someday, but I also know that doing so means I'm going to die a painful death at the hands of my brother. Right now, I'd rather be alone in the woods than dead over some stupid money.

  The path I'm walking is rugged and bumpy. I hold the electric lantern higher in my hands, wishing I had a real flashlight, but it's late and I’m in the middle of nowhere. It's not like there's a 24 hour supercenter here. I try not to think about creatures that could be lurking in the woods. I try not to think about all the bad things that could happen to me between here and the cabin. I can't.

  I just have to get there, then everything will be okay.

  It's not long before I'm shivering in the cold and I wish that I had something heavier than my red cloak, but I don't, so I cringe and keep going. The cloak is long and thick, but it's no match for the cool air. I just need to get as far as I can before Jeffrey shows up and starts searching the woods for me. Would he go that far? Maybe he’ll think I skipped town.

  Probably.

  There’s still the chance, though. There’s still the possibility that he’ll want to cover all of his bases.

  The police will argue that I was kidnapped or hurt, but he'll know I’m alive. He always knows.

  He’ll try to convince them to name him the heir, that despite being specifically excluded from my grandmother’s will, he should get the money. I know him. It’s the first thing he’ll do. Grandmother left very specific instructions, though, and had the best legal team in Ashborne prepare the documents she left behind. When he realizes he doesn’t stand a chance without my death certificate, he’ll do everything in his power to get it.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do when he finds me.

  My brother is the scariest man I’ve ever met, one of the worst villains I’ve ever encountered. The idea of him finding me, of torturing me, of killing me swiftly sends waves of nausea over my body. My stomach turns as I think about his dark sneer, about the blackness in his eyes. I shiver, wondering if I’m making the right choice, knowing full well that I’m not. He’s going to find me eventually. It’s really a matter of when.


  It's too dark to run, but I walk as quickly as I can. I'm tired, I'm sad, and I'm lonely, but I keep going. I have to. I try not to think about my dead grandmother or how I've lost the last of my family. I try not to think about her last words to me or the letter I have in my pocket from her that serves as a reminder of her love for me.

  The only thing I have to look forward to now is death, but I won't go down without a fight.

  I can't.

  I owe Grandma that much.

  ***

  I walk until I’m out of breath. Then I keep going. Just a little bit further, I tell myself. The darkness can’t hurt me. The woods aren’t full of big, angry bears.

  Or big, angry brothers.

  The little noises that fill the air around me aren’t that big of a deal. They aren’t that bad. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll be just fine.

  The lies float through my head before they vanish forever.

  I can whisper all I want, but my heart knows these promises are empty.

  Nothing will ever be all right again.

  The time for “okay” has come and gone. I might be able to move forward, but it’s as a shell of a person. My heart will never be whole again.

  Is this why people always say death causes you to reevaluate your life?

  The loss feels like someone carved out my soul.

  My need to survive collides with my sadness and I cry as I walk, stumbling forward. The woods are basically empty. At the very edges, there are signs of camping or picnics. I see some trash and stumble around a few abandoned water bottles, but once I’m 100 yards in, it’s just me and the wildlife.

  No people.

  No one to hear me cry.

  My feet hurt as I walk, reminding me that I left my good hiking boots in my duffel bag. My Converse might be stylish, but they suck for walking. They were the only shoes I had in my car, so they’ll have to suffice.

  I try to coax myself into going deeper into the woods despite the darkness. I don’t know how long it will take Jeffrey to realize he just has to search the woods for me. Surely he doesn’t have any memories of Grandma’s cabin, but I can’t be certain. If he finds me once I’ve reached it, there’s always the chance I’ll have managed to get the old hunting rifle to work.

  Otherwise, I’m dead.

  He can’t find me before I reach the cabin. He just can’t. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he’s a vicious man who only cares about one thing: money. He likes to have it and he’ll do anything to get it. He’s always been this way. How did we turn out so differently?

  We may have had different fathers, but from what I saw, my birth father loved Jeffrey as his own. He would have done anything for him and he often did.

  I feel a bit sick as I think of the way he shifted in Grandma’s kitchen. He changed just enough to let his claws out, just enough to slice through her delicate skin. I think of the way her eyes locked on mine and she shook her head, just slightly, just enough to let me know I needed to stay hidden.

  She was trying to save me.

  My brother is nothing if not completely paranoid.

  I can’t help but wonder how our lives would be different if our parents hadn’t died, but there’s a time and a place for reminiscing, and it’s not while walking through animal-infested forests.

  Each time I hear a sound, I jump. What’s lurking for me in the darkness today? Does door number one have ghosts or ghouls? What about door number two? Goblins or witches? I force myself to keep moving even though each noise has me cringing. Tears threaten to pour over and I finally realize that it’s time to stop for the night.

  I’ve come as far as I possibly can.

  I find an oversized oak tree with big ol’ branches and I climb up a little ways. Sleeping in a tree overnight seems stupid. Sleeping on the ground seems stupider.

  I use rope from my bag to tie myself loosely to the tree. I plan to sleep sitting up with my legs on the big branch, but if I accidentally slip, this will ensure I wake up before I’m able to fall. I put my knife in my front pocket. If I need to get out of here quickly, I’ll cut through the ropes. I don’t have time to deal with untying them in a pinch. My knife will work just fine.

  Goodness knows it’s sharp enough.

  I lean against the trunk of the tree and close my eyes. I try to relax. Deep breaths: in and out, in and out. Only, no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop my brother’s face from popping into my head. I can’t stop the images of my grandmother’s body. I can’t stop imagining that somehow, somewhere, Jeffrey is going to find me.

  I can’t stop thinking of my brother killing me for my inheritance.

  I sit in the tree, bark scratching into my back, for what feels like hours. I hear howls. There are wolves in the woods, I know, but there can’t be many. How many could really be in a place like this? My grandmother used to say they were more afraid of me than I was of them, but I know that’s a crock.

  Even grandma was scared of the wolves, though she never really told me why. We both knew Jeffrey was a shifter. I figured it out as a teenager even though my mom kept it a dark secret. I don’t think my dad ever knew.

  I don’t think he wanted to.

  It’s not a full moon, but the howls continue into the early hours of the morning. Somehow, before the sun comes up, I manage to fall asleep sitting up in the tree.

  In my dreams, I’m running from my brother. I’m running from him and the other wolves and no one can save me. I open my mouth to scream, but there is only silence. Nothing comes out of my mouth. I can’t make a sound. Moving as quickly as possible, I run until my legs collapse, and then they take me.

  I wake covered in sweat and cut myself loose.

  There will be no more sleeping in trees for me.

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