by Mina Khan
WILDFIRE:
A Paranormal Mystery with Cowboys & Dragons
Mina Khan
Dedicated to everyone who keeps me writing.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Wildfire: A Paranormal Mystery with Cowboys & Dragons
Copyright © 2013 by Rashda Khan
Cover design by Ana Grigoriu from Kingwood Creations
Editor: Jennifer A. Boggs
Interior art by Fahmi Khan
ISBN: 978-0-9853032-7-3
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means —except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews— without written permission.
For more information: [email protected]
Lynn Hana Alexander is a 25-year-old Japanese American shape shifter haunted by guilt. She’s been questioning herself and her dragon abilities ever since she failed to save her grandmother.
When her best friend is threatened by mysterious fires burning up acres of West Texas, Lynn rushes to the rescue, determined not to fail again. However, with a tempting firefighter, a flirty city developer and dragon pheromones distracting her, how is she going to find the arsonist?
And worse: is her primary suspect a malicious rogue dragon or the love of her life?
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Also by Mina Khan
A note from Mina
About the author
Chapter 1
Fear incinerated sleep, left her mouth tasting of ash.
Lynn Alexander’s parched throat ached. Her mind plucked at reason. She’d been dreaming of fire again. Wild, angry flames. Billowing smoke. A faint voice pleading for help. Through it all, someone —something— watched her. Waited.
“Come here.” Another voice, dark and intimate, had commanded from the depths of the fire. “Come here, little girl.”
Then a man’s face emerged from the smoke and flames. Strong and grim, with rugged angles, sensuous lips and intense green eyes that glittered with blistering heat.
Panic pressed on her windpipe. Lynn wrenched her head sideways, blinked back tears and stared at the pebbled texture of the wall next to her bed. Ragged breath caught in her lungs and she focused on the present to escape the grasping remnants of the dream. She tuned in to the soft swish of the fan, the quiet roar of the air conditioner, the wild thrashing of her heart.
A nightmare. The same damn nightmare she’d been having all week. An insidious whisper echoed in her head: Not a dream. A vision.
Like before, like when her grandmother died.
Dread rolled through her, cold and certain.
Who was the mysterious man? The person in trouble or the murderer she hunted? A prickly knowing grew inside her, jamming at the base of her throat. The tightness turned needle sharp, and then popped. A single thought formed: Save Jen.
Tangled in bed sheets, she twisted around to snatch her cell from the nightstand. The clock blinked three a.m. in poison green numerals. Jen would be mega-pissed if the phone woke her at this ungodly hour in the middle of the work week for no reason. Worry itched between Lynn’s shoulder blades. But what if this was a true warning? She’d rather risk her best friend’s wrath than her life.
Clutching the phone, she speed dialed Jen. No answer. Pick up the phone. Pick up the damn phone.
After six rings, she snapped the phone shut and threw off the covers. Lynn leapt out of bed, and stripped out of her sweaty clothes. She grabbed the backpack she always kept ready by her bedside, shoved the phone into a front pocket, and slipped her arms into the extra-long straps. She knew she shouldn’t risk exposure, but she had to get to Jen. Protect her from whatever danger threatened.
Naked, she rushed to the French doors and threw them open. The cool October breeze embraced her and dried the sweat clinging to her skin. She stared into the night, glad of the darkness. Being one of the rare shape-shifters in the family garnered her a room with rooftop access. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the dank smell of the bayou and summoned the change.
Heat crackled across her skin, filled her mind, as blue-green scales rippled over her body giving her tan a bronze sheen. Lynn’s core dissolved to molten lava, reformed and hardened. Muscles stretched and grew stronger, bones pushed and molded flesh. Nubs emerged from her back, elongated and flared into wings. A deep burn spread from her gut, igniting cell after cell, until she shook like a live wire juiced on raw power.
Her leathery wings flailed behind her as she stumbled around a bit before settling into the new weight. One would think a five foot one and half-inch Asian American woman would transform into a delicate, miniature-poodle type of dragon. Not so. In dragon form, Lynn was seven feet of sharp scales, sinuous muscle and steely strength.
She raised her face to the moon and launched from the roof. Below her, Buffalo Bayou wound through downtown Houston glittering like a net of diamonds under the silver moonlight. The tremendous beat of her wings drowned out her worries for a moment.
Lynn considered her ability to shift, the visions, and the sometimes overpowering instincts of her inner dragon as undesired complications. Except for the flying. She loved that. Of course, Obaa-chan had called her abilities gifts from her Japanese ancestors.
Her gut clenched at the memory. With her grandmother, she’d arrived too late, and then—
She’d failed Obaa-chan. She wouldn’t fail Jen.
The earth fell away as she shot into the dark velvet sky and toward the distant stars. Images of fire spiked through her thoughts, knotted her insides. Adrenaline thrummed through her veins. She rocketed over the tangled mess of highways and overpasses, pumping her wings hard and fast, glad not to have to use a vehicle. About a year ago Jen had moved to an artist’s colony in Paradise Valley, six hours west of Houston by car or an hour by wing. She wanted to be there now.
A few headlights rushed underneath her like fireflies on a mission. Even those disappeared as she left behind the glass and concrete jungle of the city. One good thing about flying at this odd hour meant fewer people were about and the darkness hid her. Just to be safe, she flew high enough that she’d easily be mistaken for a plane or UFO. Anything but a dragon. A dull ache throbbed through her straining wings. She hissed out an annoyed burst of flame, and forced herself to slow. Work smart, not hard. Wind currents shifted and supported her as she rode one thermal, then skimmed another. She leaned into the moving air as she threaded through wet clouds, muscles taut with purpose.
A grin parted her lips as she spotted the collection of pale spires on what Jen called Salvation Row because so many churches competed for attention on the same block. San Angelo, the n
earest small city to Jen. Almost there. A jolt of fresh energy buzzed through her, making her flagging wings beat harder.
Soft darkness wrapped around her as she headed further into the countryside. Innumerable stars spilled across the sky, shining with a fierce light. She drank in the brilliance. Her gaze traveled into the distance, then locked onto a part that looked murky and dull. As if something had bitten off a chunk of the sky and swallowed the stars.
Her vision haunted her mind. Unease skittered under her scales.
As Lynn crested the double peaks of the Twin Buttes, the bite of smoke tickled her nose and the air steamed and boiled. Below her, fire blazed across the rolling plains toward a darkened cottage like a dragon desperate to devour.
Goaded by the wind, gold and orange flames leapt in wild abandon. Thrilled her. How hot would it blaze? Which direction would it lunge? How far would its sooty claws reach?
Mesmerized, she slid into a glide and pulled in a deep breath. The aroma of the fresh fire made her eyes drift closed in pleasure. The raw scent of sulfur and ash, and underneath that a hint of—
The unmistakable musk of a male dragon. A warm tingle spread through her veins. The face from her dreams ghosted into her mind for a moment. Foe or friend? Her eyes flew open. Her head swiveled this way and that. Nothing to see. Lynn shivered with the premonition that she’d be meeting him soon.
A name, a memory, seeped back into her consciousness. Jen. She blinked and peered through the smoke. The cottage stood dark, quiet, and peaceful. Utterly unaware. Recognition filtered through. Jen’s home. About to be consumed by fire.
She wanted to hurtle to the ground and rescue Jen. But now the unknown presence, cold and powerful, surrounded her like an invisible wall, stopping her. Lynn stilled and searched some more.
Nothing moved aside from the usual night creatures fleeing from the writhing, surging flames.
Had the other dragon shadowed into invisibility? Her scales stiffened. She wished she could melt out of sight. Never easy, the molecular change had become more volatile since Obaa-chan’s death. She flickered in and out like a defective light bulb. “Damn, damn, damn.” Her tail snaked back and forth in frustration.
Come closer, little girl. A whisper emerged from the dark.
The words filled her mind, turning her to ice. The acrid smell of smoke and charred flesh singed her nostrils. Once again she saw her grandmother’s blackened and shriveled body in that burning warehouse.
Her mind screamed. Save Jen. Save Jen. Save Jen. She jerked back to reality, and found herself falling from the sky. Frantic flapping, a sharp bank to the left and a clumsy somersault later, she regained her flight. She couldn’t handle another death on her conscience. Lynn tore toward the flames.
Only to pull up short and hover over the fiery path. Every bit of dry grass, brittle branch, and dead leaf smoldered and burned. How the hell did a dragon put out a fire?
Laughter rumbled behind her. The flames jumped higher, licking and tasting the air.
Lynn swung around to face the blaze. She wished she could smash through the roof, grab Jen and fly to safety. However, no flying creature could carry something equal to its own weight and still fly. She huffed out a breath.
Maybe she could just block the flames with her body. Fire couldn’t harm her dragon form. Then another idea bloomed. She pulled back and rose higher. Stretching her wings to their full twelve-foot span, she beat the air.
The fire flared and stood its ground. The flames hissed and snapped at her.
Trembles sped across her aching wings. Lynn winced, but continued the movement. The air churned and roiled, then obeyed. Pushed the flames, turned them in a slow U. Away from the house. Away from Jen. They burned back toward charred ground. No fuel, no fire.
A deep growl rolled across the sky like distant thunder, followed by the plaintive wails of sirens.
She ignored the growing din and continued to flap until the fire raced further away. A few more, slower flails, then Lynn wrenched away from the burning earth.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. A tawdry display of red and white lights raced toward her, overshadowing the muted silver of the dawn sky. Humans. Or rather, clueless human authorities. Panic followed by camera phones and guns. Great.
The change rushed over Lynn as she tumbled toward the ground.
Chapter 2
Lynn crash landed smack dab into a Texas Sage. Her breath whooshed out. Woody stems cracked and splintered beneath her weight, and retaliated by poking and scratching her bare skin. Finally, she lay caught in a web of branches. Silver green leaves clumped back together to hide her sprawled figure.
Dazed, she blinked at the pin-pricks of light beaming through the leafy canopy and listened to the sirens. Her skin burned with fresh scrapes. She blew out a shuddering breath. Weariness wrapped her like a blanket, urged her to close her eyes. Just for a moment. Or until all the uproar ceased. No. No. She needed to see Jen, make sure she was okay.
Her eyes popped open. Tension twisted her muscles as she scanned her surroundings with her mind. Emptiness echoed back. The male dragon was gone. Had he ever been there? Or was her mind playing tricks again? The sirens grew louder, nearer. No time to change into clothes. She scrambled out of the foliage and came face to face with an outcrop of prickly cacti covered in red fruit, bright yellow flowers and pale thorns. Life could have been worse. Much worse.
She edged past the cacti and ran naked to Jen’s porch, backpack bumping behind her. Her breath came fast. Almost hyperventilating, she pounded on the door.
When the door flew open, Lynn stared at her friend. Short lime green hair stuck out in all directions, faded purple Winnie-The-Pooh pajamas, and heavy black rain boots. God, she’d missed that round, sweet face for the last year.
“Oh my God, Lynn! It’s so good to see you!” Jen blinked. “Wait, what are you doing here? Naked.”
“Getting ready to moon your fire department.”
She followed Jen’s frantic glance over her shoulder. The headlights of various vehicles spilled across the end of the drive. Fingers dug into her right arm, dragging her inside. The door slammed shut.
“Bathroom’s the second door on the left,” Jen pointed toward a shadowy corridor. “I’ll go outside and talk to the cavalry.” Then she ducked out.
Lynn dashed to the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned her sweaty body against the door and slithered to the cool tiles. Damn, that’d been close. Her mind kept returning to the vision, the fire and the invisible presence. What the hell was going on?
Breathing in deep, calming breaths, she gazed at the aquamarine walls as her heart calmed to its normal rhythm. She shrugged off her backpack and pulled out underwear, a t-shirt and sweatpants. After dressing, she twisted her loose curls into a topknot and stepped out, ready to investigate.
Following the light and noise leaking through the windows, Lynn made her way through the darkened living room to the front door. The door squeaked as she opened it and stepped out onto the porch.
Jen and an older man, wearing a Stetson and shoulder holster with a gun, stopped talking and turned around. Ice-blue eyes raked over Lynn . He chewed on an unlit cigar, making his salt-and-pepper mustache jog.
“Ah, there you are! This is my best friend Lynn Alexander, visiting me from Houston.” Jen’s bright voice jarred against the backdrop of billowing smoke, spewing water, and firefighters. “This is Rick Anderson, Tom Green County arson investigator.”
He tipped his hat with one hand, while removing the cigar with the other. “Welcome to Paradise Valley. How long have you been here?”
Lynn ignored the panic widening Jen’s eyes. “I got in late last night.”
Her eyes followed his gaze to her bare feet.
Dirt and bits of green grass flecked her toes. Her dragon curled into a tight ball in her stomach. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“You’ve been outside already?”
No point denying the evidence. How could she have been so stupid? “Ah, yes.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, when the radio started blaring, it woke us up.” Jen’s hands fluttered in the air like frightened sparrows. “And I couldn’t believe the fire was at my house.”
“So I stepped out to see if it was true.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s smarter to run away from a fire than towards it.”
“I think we kind of panicked,” Jen ended with a short nervous laugh.
Lynn folded her arms across her chest and squared her hips. “When I realized what was happening I ran back to the house.”
Silence simmered for a few long seconds. Then he nodded. “Well, that explains one set of footprints we found.” He tapped his nose with the cigar. “Strange thing is we didn’t find your footprints going away from the house. Why is that?”
Damn perceptive man. Lynn shrugged. “Maybe I scuffed them running back.”
When he continued staring at her, she returned a cool look of her own. “You’re the investigator, once you figure it out let me know.”
“Well, that was just from my initial survey,” he shrugged. “We are still studying the scene and we’ll figure it out.”
“I’m going to put on a pot of coffee and fix something to eat.” Jen’s voice sounded over-bright like canned Christmas music. “After such an early start, I think everybody could use caffeine.”
“I know I’d appreciate it.” Anderson turned away from them and ambled down the steps.
Was Jen out of her mind? A fire needed investigating and she wanted to make coffee and cookies? A not-so-gentle shove sent Lynn stumbling toward the door.
“Come on, you can help me make sandwiches.”
Sandwiches. She was a dragon not a soccer mom. Lynn opened her mouth to address the issue.
“Ah, Miss Alexander?”
Now what? She pictured fluffy white clouds in her mind and turned to face Anderson. “Yes?”
He stood staring at Jen’s battered old station wagon under the lacy shade of a mesquite tree. Hers was the only car in sight, other than the fire vehicles. “How did you get here?”