city of dragons 02 - fire storm

by Val St. Crowe

  He had drunk so much of my blood that my magic was fading, but I still had… enough…

  Hard to concentrate now.

  I was so tired. I just wanted to fall into the black abyss and sleep.

  No.

  I funneled the magic out of me, into Lachlan, pushing it directly into his stomach.

  He flew backwards into the waves.

  I closed my eyes and sunk back into the water too. It was nice here.

  “Penny!” Lachlan was yanking me up out of the water.

  I squinted at him.

  “Shift,” he said to me. “Shift again.”

  Oh, that was a good idea. I let the water close over my head again, allowed my dragon form to overtake me.

  When I emerged from the water, the sea dripping from my wings and scales, Lachlan was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  My cell phone buzzed. I picked it up and looked at the caller. Lachlan. I put the phone back in my pocket.

  “Are you ever going to answer that?” said Felicity. “It keeps ringing.”

  “Telemarketer,” I said. “Let’s try it again from the beginning.”

  Felicity sighed.

  The both of us were in the living room of my apartment. We were in t-shirts and yoga pants, and we were sweating, but we weren’t doing exercise. I was trying to teach Felicity how to use magic.

  Felicity backed up toward the door. “I don’t think this is working.”

  I pointed to one of the objects I had on the coffee table, a hairbrush. It lifted several feet off the table and hovered in the air. “I think you’re just not properly motivated.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, I’ve been stopping these things before they could actually hit your body, because I don’t want to hurt you. But this time, I’m not going to stop it. I’m going to throw this brush at you, and you’re going to stop it, because you’re going to be terrified, and it’ll just kick in, like instinct.”

  She wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t want to get hit by a brush. I’m going to have bruises, and how am I going to explain that to Jensen?”

  “You won’t have bruises because it’s not going to hit you,” I said. “Now, are you ready?” Though I could heal myself by shifting, I didn’t have magic that could heal other people, unfortunately.

  “No,” she said, glaring at me.

  I shrugged. Too bad. I pointed at her and the hairbrush hurtled through the air at top speed, heading directly for her midsection. “It’s coming, Felicity. Grab your talisman. Concentrate on stopping it.”

  Felicity clutched the talisman. She screwed up her face.

  And the hairbrush hit her in the stomach.

  “Ouch!” she said. “Mother of hell, that hurt!”

  I winced. “Sorry.”

  Felicity was doubled over, clutching her body.

  I went to her. “I’m so sorry. I thought that would work.”

  She straightened. “That really hurt.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She sighed. “Is this how you learned to use your magic? Did you have your parents throwing objects at you with magic?”

  “No,” I said.

  “So, how did you learn?”

  “I don’t know, I could just… do it.”

  “So, you didn’t learn,” she said. “You’re like one of those people who plays guitar by ear or something. You’re good at using magic, but you have no idea how you do it. It just comes naturally.”

  “I guess,” I said. “Sorry. Maybe if I think about it more, I can figure out what I’m doing. I can give you steps or something.”

  “That would be good,” she said. “But I think I’m done for the day.”

  “Well, wait,” I said. “Let’s switch. You throw the hairbrush at me, and I’ll try to stop it. I’ll try to concentrate on how I’m doing it.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can throw the thing as fast as you were using magic to hurl it at me.”

  I went over to the door. “Just do the best you can.”

  “Right,” she said. “Because it’s not going to hit you.”

  “Do you want me to not stop it, so that I can feel your pain?”

  “No.” She made a face. “I’m not that petty.”

  “I really am sorry, Felicity.”

  “Just try to figure out how to teach me, please,” she said. “I miss driving myself places.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Go for it.”

  She wound up her pitch, like a baseball player and then threw the hairbrush at me as hard as she could.

  I lifted my hand on instinct and the brush halted in midair.

  Huh. How had I done that? I knew that when I needed to do a lot of really intense magic, I needed to pull it all together, but for something as simple as this, I just… did it.

  Felicity raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” I said.

  She glared at me.

  “Maybe you should try it again,” I said.

  “Okay, well send the brush back over here,” she said.

  I waved it away, and it floated back through the air to Felicity.

  My phone made another noise, but this was the noise it made when I got a text message. I yanked my phone out of my pocket.

  It was a text from Lachlan. Found Fletcher Remington’s car. Can you come?

  * * *

  Fletcher’s car had been found at a bar called Andy’s about midway up Atlantic Avenue. When I arrived there, I couldn’t see much due to the fact that there were a bunch of police in uniform swarming the place. I guess it was considered a crime scene and they were sweeping it for DNA and fingerprints and all that jazz.

  I wondered how long the car had been here. Was that something that people could tell from looking at it?

  “Penny.” Lachlan appeared in front of me, fighting through the uniforms.

  I folded my arms over my chest.

  “You know, you can’t do that,” he said. “You can’t just ignore my calls.”

  “I can and I have,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about this right now. “What’s the news with the car?”

  “Even if you don’t want to talk to me, you need to let me know you’re okay,” he said.

  “I don’t,” I said. I pushed past him. “Why am I here, anyway? There magical creatures for me to talk to, or did you just use this as a ploy to scold me for not answering my phone?”

  He came after me. “I was about to come by, because I was afraid that Alastair had come back, and that you were hurt or something. But then I got the call about the car. So, I couldn’t. But I’ve been terrified all day, wondering why the hell you weren’t answering your phone.”

  I took a deep breath, started to say something. But what was the point? I let the breath out and stalked away from Lachlan.

  Over to one side, a portly man in a collared shirt was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked nervous.

  “You with the police?” I asked him.

  “I own this place,” he said, gesturing behind him.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m Andy,” he said. “It’s just a small little operation. I’ve only got two other bartenders. Usually, I’m doing it. Right now, no one’s tending bar, because I had to close down during this fiasco. I don’t even know how long they’re going to be here.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I said.

  He looked me over. “Are you with the police?”

  I offered him my hand. “Penny Caspian. I’m a consultant.”

  By this time, Lachlan had caught up to me. “What are you doing?” he asked me.

  I smiled at him. “Andy here was just telling me that he tends the bar most of the time. You got that picture of Fletcher on your phone? Maybe he recognizes him.”

  Lachlan dug out his phone and handed it over.

  Andy furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I know him. I’d c
onsider him a regular, I guess. Came in pretty often. Never did catch his name, though. So, this is the guy whose car is here?”

  “That’s him,” I said.

  “Do you remember the last time you saw him?” Lachlan asked.

  “Uh…it was a couple of Fridays ago,” said Andy.

  “The thirteenth?” said Lachlan.

  “No, the week before,” said Andy.

  “The sixth, then?”

  “Yeah, sounds about right.”

  That corresponded with the time frame he’d been missing. Andy might very well have been one of the last people to see Fletcher alive. Assuming he was actually dead, that is.

  Andy nodded. “That was the night, all right. I remember, because he was trashed, falling asleep on the bar. No way he could drive home. So, some other guy gave him a ride.”

  “Another guy?” said Lachlan.

  “Yeah,” said Andy. “That man was a dragon, too. Flashy about it, always floating his drinks around and stuff, doing tricks, throwing his money around. He comes in here a lot too. Name’s, um, Alexander?”

  “Alexander what?” I said, wondering if I knew this person. If he gave me a last name, I could at least pinpoint the family, I was sure of it.

  “No, not Alexander,” said Andy. “Alastair. Alastair Cooper.”

  My heart stopped.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I stood at the edge of the parking lot, staring at cars zooming by on Atlantic Avenue. I was shaking all over.

  “Penny?” Lachlan’s voice behind me.

  I stared at the highway. “What does it mean?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “If Alastair gave Fletcher a ride home, does that mean he’s the last person to see him alive? He was the last person to see Sophia alive in the last case.”

  Lachlan stepped up beside me. “It’s a weird coincidence. But we know he wasn’t involved with the Dragon Slasher killings. Anthony Barnes confessed.”

  “Alastair didn’t kill Sophia Ward or those other girls,” I said. “But did he kill Fletcher?”

  Lachlan shook his head. “What would his motive be?”

  “He got angry?” I said. “Something pissed him off and he went too far. You saw the way he gets when he’s in a rage.”

  “It’s possible,” said Lachlan. “But…”

  “But nothing,” I said. “If he didn’t kill him, then fate is trying to get me back together with him. That’s why our paths keep crossing. That’s why he keeps appearing in these cases. I’m supposed to be with him for some reason. I did something so wrong that I need a lifetime of punishment with that man, and until I go back to him, I’ll never get peace.”

  Lachlan jammed his hands into his pockets. “You believe in fate?”

  I looked at him. “It’s obvious that I’m attracted to men who want to hurt me.”

  He raised his eyebrows, touching his own chest. “Me? I don’t want to—”

  “You did, though, didn’t you? Last night? You drank and you drank and you drank.”

  He swallowed. His gaze shifted away from mine.

  I turned back to stare at the cars passing.

  “Have you ever read Frankenstein?” he said in a barely audible voice.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t need another of his stupid analogies to classical literature right now.

  “Not seen the movies, but actually read the book by Mary Shelley.”

  I sighed. “No.”

  “The monster in that book, he didn’t ask to be what he is, and he tries very hard to be a good person. But he’s monstrous, and—in the end—everything he touches is ruined. He can do nothing but kill and destroy. It’s his nature.”

  “Lachlan, you are not Frankenstein’s monster.” I was feeling a wee bit annoyed.

  “I’m not saying that,” he said. “See, that book is all about how technology and science are evil, and how humans should not strive to know so much, because we’ll destroy ourselves, and how nature is so much stronger than we are anyway, so we can never fight it. Mary Shelley was a teenager when she wrote it. Teenagers think they’re right about everything.”

  “Okay?” What the hell? What was he even talking about?”

  “I don’t believe that,” he said. “I don’t believe in fate. I don’t believe in anything like that. I don’t think, Penny, that there’s any real rhyme or reason to the way things happen. They just do. So, you’re not meant to be with Alastair, and you’re not destined to be attracted to men who hurt you. You can stop all of it. You can walk away from me. You probably should, because you’re right. I did keep drinking last night when I knew I needed to stop. I could have hurt you.”

  “You were warning me about it all along, but I didn’t take it seriously. But now I understand.”

  Lachlan jammed his hands in his pockets. “Listen, about last night. Things got more intense between us and—”

  “I think maybe what I said before is right. We should pretend that none of this happened. Try to go back to normal. Keep our hands to ourselves from now on.”

  “What?” He looked stunned.

  “I could have died,” I said.

  “No, I would never do that.”

  “You can’t control it,” I said. “You know that you can’t—”

  “I won’t do it again.” He grabbed my hand. “I will not taste your blood ever again. I swear to you.”

  “Lachlan—”

  “Trust me. I swear to you. And I know I don’t have any right to ask you this, but don’t walk away. Don’t pretend this didn’t happen.”

  I squeezed his fingers for a second. And then I let go of him, pulling my hand away. “Why the about-face all of the sudden, Lachlan?”

  His gaze flitted away from my face, over my body, and I felt as if he could see through my clothes, like his lingering gaze was a warm caress. “When I left you, I went home, and I couldn’t sleep, because I kept thinking about…” He took an unsteady breath, and he shook his head. “I can’t pretend it never happened. Can you really do that?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Thinking of losing you, Penny, I can’t…” He reached for me again. “Please.”

  I evaded his grasp. “I need to think.” I backed up. “I’m sorry.” I turned and walked away.

  * * *

  The truth was, I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed that I’d gotten naked in front of him and thrown myself at him and that he’d turned me down—

  But in other ways, I was glad he had turned me down, because he was right, we were so not ready to be having sex yet.

  I had stolen things from our future—things we could never get back.

  The moment of his seeing me without all my clothes for the first time? Gone.

  Of course, there was a nonzero chance that he’d checked me out that time I was passed out with a dragon tranquilizer dart in my body, so maybe it didn’t matter at all.

  And I’d seen him too. Touched him. Practically given him a full-on hand job. Jesus.

  Things could not be done properly and romantically anymore, because they’d all been done out of order, and we’d crossed lines. It was all my fault, because I’d been crazed over Alastair.

  Hell, maybe it was Alastair’s fault.

  But it didn’t matter whose fault it was. It was done, and the damage was permanent.

  And the blood-drinking thing… Oh, hell, I didn’t even know what to think of all of that. In the beginning, before it got scary, it had been amazing. I loved it. But then it had been scary.

  Still, the thing that scared me the most about it was that—even after all of that—I wanted him to do it again. I wanted his teeth in me, my blood in him. It had been good. Too good.

  A knock on the door.

  I was in my office, supposedly paying bills, but basically just staring at the screen and worrying over my love life. I sighed. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and it was Melinda Irwin.

  I stood up. “Melinda. I wasn’t expecting you.”

&n
bsp; She was alone this time. “The girl at the desk said it was okay to come back, since I knew where your office was and since I’m an old friend. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “No, you’re fine.” I motioned for her to sit down.

  She didn’t. “We haven’t heard anything from you about The Dungeon.”

  “Well, that’s complicated. Those vampires could have killed Fletcher Remington, and if so, we need them to be available for arrest and eventually for prosecution and a trial and all of that. Even if they didn’t kill him, they may have vital information to the case. So, it’s not as if I can just march in there and kill them. I don’t even know if I want to kill them. Vampires are people too, even if these vampires are scum, and if I just run around killing people, even scummy people—”

  “I’m not asking you to kill them. Just stop them somehow. Keep them from doing what they’re doing to my little girl. If it is true, if they did kill Fletcher, then maybe Jenna is next. And if I lose her…” Melinda’s eyes teared up.

  I looked down at the floor. I had never carried a child to term, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t understand loss. I’d had three miscarriages, two of them far enough into the pregnancies that I’d had to go through labor to deliver a tiny lifeless thing. I knew what it meant to lose a child. I would never want Melinda to have to go through that. My eyes filled up too.

  We gazed at each other for a minute, our eyes shining, both of us trying to keep ourselves in check.

  I swallowed my emotion. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  * * *

  “Penny,” said Lachlan’s voice. “Have you had some time to think about what we were talking about, because I think—”

  “It’s about The Dungeon,” I said. “The vampires there.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Right. About work. Yeah, we do have a murder to solve.”

  “You think it’s a murder now? You’re not convinced Fletcher’s alive somewhere?”

  “Let’s say I’m getting more and more convinced it’s a murder,” he said. “What about The Dungeon?”

  “Didn’t you say we should go and watch them, catch them in the act of taking dragon blood?”

  “Yeah, I thought that they’d have a difficult time denying it, then. We might be able to get something useful out of them.”