Wildfire: A Paranormal Mystery with Cowboys & Dragons

by Mina Khan

  Lynn stole a quick glance at Jack.

  He stood swaying on his feet, then crumpled into a heap.

  She ran to him, but an iron-strong hand wrapped around her hair and jerked her away. Henry held her next to him. “Another one of his tricks?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  His hold eased on her. “Go kick him.”

  “No.”

  Kick him. Icy eels slithered through her thoughts, nudging and prodding, coiling around.

  “N-no.”

  “Go kick him or I’ll shoot him.” Go. The silent word shoved her forward.

  Lynn dragged her feet to Jack, then barely tapped his body with one foot.

  “Harder. Like you hate him.”

  The click of the gun chambering and an overwhelming shove inside her pushed her into action. She swung her foot back and kicked him on the topside of his back. Jack took it like a rag doll. His awful stillness tore something inside her, filled her ears with a silent scream.

  “Come on let’s go. We still have to find the treasure.”

  She stood a moment, staring down at Jack, struggling to think. Her mind seemed to be floundering in muddy waters. “We can’t just leave him here.”

  Henry swung around and eyed Jack’s form. “I could shoot him and put him out of his misery, but I don’t want to waste the bullet.”

  Come. The word, insistent, demanding, echoed in the chambers of her mind.

  Finally, an idea broke the surface, formed itself into words. Jack would be safer without her. Lynn shot away from Jack and returned to Henry’s side. “What do you want from me?”

  “Everything.” Henry scanned the various caves facing them. “But first the treasure.”

  Hot, caustic words bubbled to her lips only to be staunched by the icy presence in her mind. She settled for a flinty glare.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the sound of water.

  As Lynn moved further and further away from Jack, fear infested her bones like termites feasting on wood. She moved along the cool earth walls, keeping to the shadows, alone with Henry once again.

  They found the emerald pool, shimmering and glassy like polished stone. Large enough for a dragon, or two, to swim in. Relax. Play.

  “Make love.” Henry nuzzled her ear. “Once you help me release my inner dragon, we will make love in these waters, under the pretty lights.”

  She tried to move away, but he snatched her against him. “I’ll share the dragon’s treasure with you, I’ll make you my mate.” He nodded at her. “You really should consider it, the relationship would be mutually beneficial. Special.”

  The sudden swings from borderline hysteria to seething anger to calm reason spread a chill in the pit of her stomach. Swallowing, she tried to focus, to imagine a single flame burning in the darkness.

  Resistance is futile.

  The trickling of water soothed her jittery nerves, stirred an old memory. She stared at the water rippling down the rock wall, merging with the deeper waters of the pool.

  What will you get from resistance? Nothing.

  Obaa-chan’s voice whispered in her mind. Be like the water, soft and flowing. Move with the currents, along the channels of life. Don’t resist. And nothing will be able to resist you.

  Henry’s voice resurfaced like oil rising on the top of water. Don’t resist.

  She dragged in a long, cold breath. Lynn turned the corner and bumped her nose against Henry’s back who’d stopped moving. Peering around him, she gasped.

  A fully intact dragon skeleton shone under the twin beams of the flashlights. Shimmering white scales lay piled around the bones like untouched snowdrifts. Sadness bruised her heart and she wept inside for the dragon, for Obaa-chan, and for Jack.

  Laughing with childlike glee, Henry rushed forward. He darted around the skeleton, touching the bones, gathering up handfuls of scales and pouring them out. Listening to the dry rustle and clatter of the scales, his grin grew wider.

  Perhaps she should have seized her chance and fled back to Jack, but Lynn found herself oddly mesmerized by this side of Henry. While she winced as he tramped around this sacred resting place, she also couldn’t help being touched by the sheer force of his joy. She could almost like him again.

  He looked up just then. His eyes sparkled as if sunlight danced on the ice in them. “Can you believe this? Isn’t this amazing?”

  She nodded, stunned silent by the enormous remains.

  Henry ran back to her, traced a line along her cheek. “It’s a dragon just like you.”

  “I’m not that big.”

  He’d already turned back to stare at the shiny bones. “I know, but you’re just as magnificent.”

  You are beautiful.

  Beautiful? Not a beast?

  You are beautiful. Stop resisting.

  She stumbled toward him, as if ensnared by an invisible lasso.

  I will make you happy.

  Her feet hurried.

  Together we will rule the world.

  She tripped over her own feet. Power.

  Yes, imagine the power.

  He caught her, swept her into his arms and danced a slow waltz.

  Dizzy, she rested her head on his shoulders and closed her eyes. Power without understanding.

  You will help me understand, come into my full potential. He swayed with his head laid on top of hers. “You have to help me release my dragon.”

  The fire inside her head flared, stirred by the memories of Obaa-chan. She had to know. “Why? Didn’t you turn down my grandmother’s offer?”

  He stilled.

  Breath got stuck right beneath her breastbone and fluttered there like a trapped moth. She focused on her breathing and waited.

  Henry stepped away from her. “She told you?”

  The dragon roared inside her head. Cracks spread at the speed of a lighted fuse through every wall she’d ever built between the beast and herself. “She tried to help you.”

  He sneered. “She tried to control me. Meddling old woman.”

  Flames slipped through the chinks with greedy, grasping fingers, pushing and prodding her. Stirring her anger. “You killed her.”

  He smiled at her then, a smile so cold that it coated the fire inside her with ice. “No love, you did.”

  The ground beneath her feet shook and she stumbled to her knees. Her eyes watered, and her throat closed in on itself, as the sharp smell of smoke whipped around the cave. Great big chunks of herself broke and tumbled into oblivion, then she remembered. Behind her clenched eyes, fire tasted the air with a hundred hot, hungry tongues. In the midst of this hell, lay her grandmother’s tiny, unmoving human form like a discarded and broken doll.

  In an instant, Henry’s arms went around her and his head drew close. Soft, invisible fingers played among her thoughts, caressing and soothing. Touch, after seductive touch. Exploring. I told you we were alike.

  Lynn’s eyes flew open. “No.” The word emerged from her as a moan.

  He pressed kisses to her neck. My fire would have devoured her eventually, but you couldn’t wait. He shivered against her. I will never forget watching you breathe flames. So beautiful.

  The image of an angry jet spurting from her lips, igniting the slick, shiny floor. Flames splitting into an army, rushing like hell’s hounds at her grandmother looped inside her head. Eyes open or shut, the ugly truth couldn’t be avoided any longer.

  Tears poured from her like a long-awaited rain storm.

  The smell of smoke and something nauseous and oily. Slick and shiny floor. What was on the floor?

  Gasoline. Henry’s whisper sucker punched her, left her reeling.

  More memories thundered through her. She’d burst into the burning warehouse. Too damn late. Spied her grandmother through all the smoke and flames and rushed forward. Until a word formed in her head. Stop. Surrounded by all that heat, she’d frozen.

  Fear frosted her breath as she remembered something alien and ugly scurrying like a spider inside her mind
. Lightning flashed illuminating the darkest nooks and recesses. As the flames had drawn closer to Obaa-chan, she remembered her feet had stumbled and pulled her in the direction of the voice. Come closer little girl.

  The heat of panic had boiled away the fear, and burnt away the alien existence for a moment. That’s when her breath had whooshed out in flames. Ignited the damn gasoline she hadn’t realized covered the floor.

  Why hadn’t Obaa-chan turned dragon?

  I trapped her mind before she knew what was happening. No point making things harder than necessary.

  You.

  The hand clutching the heavy flashlight flew up and knocked Henry’s head back, drew blood. He ducked the second blow. She clipped his jaw with a jump front kick. He staggered back.

  At the same time, the change flooded her, washing away the last of the wall, drowning out all reason, all humanity. Churning, boiling heat filled her veins. Claws slid out like well-oiled razorblades. Her human face elongated, filled with teeth ready to tear. Bones, muscle, and flesh distended and twisted, spread and stretched as if elastic, then started settling into dragon form.

  A chill fog permeated her skin into her veins, until the energy flow slowed and thickened like honey left forgotten on the bottom of the jar. Her transformation sputtered, then stopped. She stood frozen, a mishmash of monster and human.

  Henry had scurried back and now lay staring up at her. What the fuck are you doing?

  What I should have done the night you killed my grandmother. With great effort, Lynn moved the muscles of her mouth, massaged her gums with her tongue, the resulting saliva melted some of the cold gumming her up. In her half-state, calling fire would hurt like hell as the heat burnt away any remaining human cells. No choice. She took a deep breath and blasted out a flame.

  Henry rolled out of the way with lightning fast reflex, but the pungent odor of singed hair hung in the air.

  Stop this! Show me how to be a dragon.

  Her throat burned, her breath steamed in the air. Never.

  We can be so much together.

  Another fist of fire grew inside her. Never.

  Unseen fingers sunk into the soft tissues of her mind. You are mine.

  Ice cold air shot through her nerves. Coated her throat. Never.

  The vise-like grip tightened. Then you will die.

  Her teeth chattered. Fine.

  Gunfire whined in the air. Bullets hit hard against her frozen body, glanced off the scales.

  “Fucking Useless Piece of Shit!” Henry shoved the gun into his waistband. “Don’t worry, I don’t need the gun for you. Just like I didn’t need it for your grandmother.”

  The pressure built inside, choked her breath as freezing dark loomed around her. Her head, her jaw, every bone in her body hurt. Brain freeze. Obaa-chan’s voice whispered in her head. Stop fighting. Be one with the dragon. Her eyes fluttered close as she willed her muscles to relax one by one. She imagined a single flame, then allowed it to multiply and burn until her mind held a bonfire.

  Henry sidled up to her, cupped her face in both hands. There is still time. Stop resisting me.

  She raised her arms —bands of scale erupted along broken skin revealing bone and blood red muscle— and snagged his shoulders, the sharp claws tearing through the thick cloth of his jacket, through the shirt and into skin.

  “Hell!” Henry jerked.

  She pulled him close. Eased her hold just enough to stop his panic, but still keep him in place. Forced the words to form. You are mine.

  He stopped struggling and smiled.

  All mine.

  He relaxed his hold. The biting chill ebbed.

  Heat flared inside, countered the cold, allowing her a small respite that ebbed and flowed. One of Obaa-chan’s long-ago stories whispered through the spill of memories. When cornered by the enemy, an ancient dragon shape-shifter had chosen to unite with his dragon, to build the flames until they became one and burst into a fire ball as hot and devastating as the sun up close. Suicide and revenge rolled into a final, fiery blaze.

  She let the fire rage through her veins.

  Henry stroked her scale-covered snout. What next?

  Her tongue flickered out, tasted his desire. I will show you how to be a true dragon.

  Focusing inward, she worked the fire. Blew on it with the wind of her will, stirred it with her sorrow and fueled it with her anger. Hot sparks and gray ash flew inside her as the heat grew bolder.

  Lynn stood trembling on the edge of death, free of all fear, almost welcoming the end. Obaa-chan was lost. Jack. Sobs bubbled inside. Maybe Jack hadn’t died, maybe he’d survive in the end. She hoped Timmy and Jen would be okay, that whoever had called her had called the police. Her parents would miss her. So many goodbyes left unsaid. But taking out Henry would be worth the cost.

  Heat flowed up and down her veins, stoking the flames at her molten core. She called on the dragon and it roared in answer, a dry desert wind rose and churned inside, whipped her fire into an inferno. All thought, all sadness, eviscerated by the blaze.

  “Ow, it’s getting hot.” Henry struggled against her. Thrashed her about the snout with the gun. Stop it. Stop whatever you’re doing.

  Blood flowed from her nostrils and lips. Tasted salty on her tongue. She closed her eyes and held on.

  He pushed her up against a cave wall and wrapped his hands around her half-human throat, squeezing. His mental coldness stabbed her over and over like a bayonet. Stop.

  Ice formed, steamed off, reformed in the folds of her brain. Darkness lapped at the edge of her conscious. She refused to let go, dug in her nails deeper.

  The stench of sweat, blood and fear rolled to her nose. His or her own?

  Sweat poured off her in waves. A quake started deep inside, then spiraled outwards building in strength. Soon, the earth beneath her feet shook, the cave shook. Rocks crumbled and rained from above.

  Despite the sharp pain needling through her, the bite of hot and cold, Lynn focused on her breathing, her fire.

  The grip around her throat slipped, disappeared. Oxygen and relief rushed through her. Air had never tasted so good. Lynn’s eyes popped open.

  Henry groaned and coughed as he lay sprawled at her feet. Jack stood over him wielding a huge ivory bone —was that a rib?— like a bat. He was alive. Why hadn’t he got out?

  Lynn glanced across Jack’s face, taking in the sweat slick skin, the determined press of his mouth, the tic pulsing by his left eye. Run.

  Jack’s eyes blazed with anger and heat as he stared at Henry. Then he looked up and met her gaze. Then she noted worry and resolve.

  Henry shoved to his feet and rushed Jack. She pulled in great big drags of air, as the two men rolled together on the floor.

  Henry landed a hard punch on Jack’s bullet wound.

  “Damn!” Jack clutched his arm, his face turned ash gray. Blood poured between his fingers. Henry seized the chance and scurried away from them.

  Lynn’s tongue flickered out, tasting the blood in the air. The heady scent filled her breaths, seeped into her own blood. Heat simmered in her veins.

  The remaining physical changes rippled to completion. A sigh escaped her as she slid into full dragon form. She lumbered forward.

  Henry’s gun roared.

  Jack jerked as a new wound erupted on his thigh. He moaned and rolled toward her.

  Henry continued to back away, his gun pointed at Jack. “Come after me, and I’ll shoot to kill.”

  Lynn watched him through a half-lidded eye. I don’t need to come after you. She pulled in a deep breath and opened her mouth. Heat —all the heat she’d built and stoked— flared inside her like a beast gone mad, clawing and slashing to get free. Intoxicated on the need to burn, she let go.

  Fire leaped out of her, wrapped around Henry, scorched the cave walls. Fire devoured with abandon. Die, you bastard.

  Screaming, Henry danced away from them engulfed in red-yellow flames with cold blue hearts. He turned and twisted, fell to the g
round and rolled. A flaming dervish consumed by fire.

  His skin blistered red, split and popped, turned black. Leathery bat-like wings half-extended from between his shoulder blades. His face contorted into a monstrous jumble of black dragon and human, froze in a grimace as he fell into the pool.

  Nausea rocked through Lynn as she breathed in the odor of burning flesh and hair, listened to the fading echoes of the screams. The sudden spending of all the heat and fury left her weak. She toppled to the ground her gaze pinned on the smoldering half-submerged blackened corpse that was Henry.

  She lay there as her form flickered and shifted back to human, feeling strangely empty. Where was the triumph, the vindication? No matter how horrible a death Henry died, no matter how much he deserved it, none of it would bring Obaa-chan back.

  A hand caressed her naked shoulder. She managed to turn her head and meet Jack’s gaze. He’d dragged himself to her. His eyes shone as he stared down at her.

  “I killed him.” Her words rasped her throat raw. “I killed him in cold blood.”

  “You did what you had to do.”

  “Yeah.” The dragon had taken over. In the end, she was a beast. She let her head fall forward, closed her eyes. “Henry was right. I’m just like him.”

  “You’re nothing like him.”

  Lynn’s head snapped up at the vehemence of his words, her gaze jumped to his.

  Jack ran a light finger along her face, tucked an unruly curl behind her ear. “He would have killed innocent people, including an eight-year-old. He would have killed you.”

  “This thing inside me—”

  “Saved us.” He held out a blood and dirt covered hand to her. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 32

  Trembling with pain and fatigue, Lynn and Jack leaned on each other and pushed to a stand. He groaned as his legs folded under and he fell to the dusty floor. “Leave me,” he said. “There’s no way I can make it back the way we came.”

  Bile churned in her stomach as Lynn took in his pale, sweating face, his jagged panting breath, the metallic scent of blood. He’d been shot twice and lost a hell of a lot of that precious fluid. She squinted into the mouth of the dark corridor. He was right, he wouldn’t make it on his own, but no way was she leaving him behind. Alone, in the dimly lit cave, where other dragons came to die. “Strip.”