The Dragon Shifter’s Duty
Page 7
Holland wanted to shed more light on the epidemic and open the eyes of people who either thought it all the stuff of Hollywood fiction or simply didn’t think of it at all. It was real, it was happening all over the world, and she wanted to make a difference.
From a young age, she’d felt it was her duty to give back and to give a voice to those who couldn’t speak. She’d once been in a position where she’d felt helpless and at the mercy of an evil man—a man who saw her and her abilities as demonic, and he’d tried to burn the bad away from her. Circumstances left her free of his hate, violence and rage, and from that moment on, she’d vowed to pay it forward. To return the good will extended to her and to make a difference in the world.
Put her mark on it.
In addition, she was hoping to look more into a separate lead she’d gotten, this one totally unrelated to the trafficking story. This wasn’t on the books and didn’t have the backing of her employer. This one was personal. She’d been in search of answers for twenty years, and she was getting desperate. She had to know if anyone out there could help her.
And she had to try to find the man who had helped her long ago. The man who hadn’t been affected by the flames—like her.
Newt—the lizard man.
Though, she had to do so by walking softly. It wasn’t as if she could rush out into the world, show everything she was capable of, demand to know if others were like her, and not end up on an exam table being sliced, diced, and studied. No. That wouldn’t do. She’d had to learn to be smart about her quest for help managing what she could do. To everyone who knew her now, she was simply a tenacious reporter with a big heart and a good head on her shoulders.
But she was so much more than that. For a time, she thought herself an anomaly. A demon. And she’d thought she was alone in the world. That no one else could do the types of things she could. That she was the only monster who roamed the earth.
All that changed on one fateful night. Thinking on it now made the sights and smells of it all come flooding back. It was as vivid to her senses as it had been that night twenty years prior. The horrible traces of gasoline and charred flesh filled her nostrils, as if she were breathing it all in again, all these years later. The crackling of the fire that consumed everything around her sounded loudly in her ears, somehow drowning out the screams of the man and woman who had raised her, if that was what she could call what they did.
She glanced down at her hand, remembering her disbelief and wonder all those years ago. She’d been terrified, yet strangely captivated by the warm glow of the fire that seemed to almost encircle her protectively rather than threaten her.
When her father had finished dumping gasoline over her and the entire home, he’d stepped back and held a book of matches in one hand. He’d stared down at her, hate eating at his soul. He’d never been shy about blaming her for her mother’s death. Her mother had died during childbirth, but that didn’t matter to him.
“Wanting you is what killed her,” he’d say before making a move to strike her. “She couldn’t have left well enough alone. She just had to try again.”
He hit her often when she was little. One day he’d beaten her to the point she couldn’t stand, and when he’d lunged at her, something inside her changed. It had been her darkness, and the day she liked to believe it was born, but the reality was that she had more than likely been born already able to do what she did. But that day, when her father had beaten her severely, she remembered feeling like everything on her had suddenly fallen asleep, the pain fading away. Then everything on her prickled right before heat burst free, pushing her irate father from her.
That was the day he began to call her a demon child. And that was the day she firmly suspected he began planning her death.
His future actions had brought Newt into her life, and in doing so, taught her that she wasn’t alone in the world—that others were like her. It also taught her to never talk about supernaturals to others, and it taught her that despite everything, kind acts could occur. Newt had shown her great kindness and compassion.
She could still see Newt in her head, remembering every detail of what he’d looked like at first—a giant lizard. The man who had saved her had been kindhearted, but with a lot of rough edges. He’d gotten her somewhere safe, promised to come back for her, but never did.
Too young at the time to fully grasp what had happened, she’d made the mistake of telling the authorities the truth—that a man who could change into a big lizard had walked through fire and saved her, and that she didn’t burn in the fire. So desperate for them all to believe her, Holland had clung to the truth like a lifeline, only later learning that most couldn’t handle it.
Her punishment had come in the worst form possible. She’d been sent away for evaluation and had ended up being institutionalized until she was nearly seven. Karen, a very caring nurse who had worked at the same care facility Holland had been committed to, had taken her in and fostered her—later even making an attempt to adopt her. While the adoption had never taken place, Holland had remained with the woman until she’d passed unexpectedly in an auto accident when Holland had only just turned eighteen. Karen had been kind and sweet, but Holland had never fully revealed to her all she was capable of. She’d been too scared of rejection.
Her own father had gone so far as to kill his live-in girlfriend, and to try to kill Holland when he’d learned what she could do. She’d not wanted to risk another parental figure doing the same.
Holland shook the memories away, needing to stay in the here and now. Revisiting the incident was something she’d done often and found it led to nothing good. The only ray of hope from that night had been her introduction to another person who was more than simply human. Another who could withstand fire.
Newt had been a knight in shining armor in her eyes, though from what she could remember of him, he’d skipped the armor and had gone with jeans, a T-shirt, and scales. Still, he’d saved her and soothed her fears on that night. He’d also taken her away from all of the bad and helped to turn her life around. She’d clung to that part of the ordeal for twenty years.
She didn’t know his real name or how to find him again, but if her sources proved reliable, she might find information that could help her locate him and thank him. She might even be able to ask him to help her learn to control her darkness.
At the tender age of five, she’d been too young, too scared, and too shocked by everything that had happened to remember to thank the man who had saved her. She’d also been too foolish to think to ask his real name when she was busy clinging to him, begging him to stay with her. To her, he was simply Newt, the man who saved her, the lizard man.
A slight laugh came from her as she remembered forcing Newt to stop and clean up his cigarette butts. She also remembered him stressing to her that she was no demon, that she was special. He’d saved her life and that made him pretty special to her, too.
Besides, if her memories of the time were correct, Newt was also incredibly handsome. She’d been too young to totally appreciate that fact back then. If she was right, he’d be in his mid-forties now. She was guessing he was still good looking. He’d probably gotten better with age. Men like him often did.
Echo started barking, and tried to bolt away from Russell’s side. Russell ended up having to grab the dog by its bulletproof vest—something she still couldn’t get used to seeing canines wearing in a war zones. Echo continued to bark like mad, rearing up, giving Russell a hard time.
Holland paused, the feeling that something was wrong hitting her hard.
“Ms. Sandoval,” Donnie said as he pressed his earpiece and stared around. She’d been surprised to see him suit up in such a manner before the trip. He’d been very relaxed prior to the meeting. “This doesn’t feel right. I’m going to scrub this meeting. You’ll have to reschedule and pick a spot that’s easier to set up guard on. We’re sitting ducks here.”
She couldn’t shake the feel of unease, either. That being said,
she’d worked hard to obtain the lead and wasn’t sure another opportunity would present itself. She also couldn’t permit Donnie or his men to be harmed if the arrangement went sideways. As much as she wanted protection, she’d never purposely put the men in danger, especially when her instincts were telling her it wasn’t safe. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
His eyes widened and he gripped his automatic rifle closer to his muscular chest. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his long hair, currently pulled back at the nape of his neck, was slicked with sweat as well. “That would be a big, fat, feckin’ no, ma’am.”
She hid her laugh and didn’t comment on the bit of Irish showing from him again. He’d been so nice and polite since her arrival. She’d wondered if he ever cursed. It made sense that he’d be adamant about remaining with her and getting her out of the area. They were standing in an area that only a month prior had been the scene of an ugly car bombing. Not to mention, she knew threats had been directed at her since her arrival. The people she was investigating didn’t much care for her nosing around.
Good.
That meant she was asking the right questions.
She wanted to shake things up.
Question the establishment and shed light on the atrocities of human trafficking. But she didn’t want to do so at the cost of her security detail’s lives. She sighed, knowing Donnie would never permit her to remain behind. She knew from past experience that she could protect herself when the chips fell on the table, but that ability came at a great cost. Not to mention, she had nearly no control over what she’d been born able to do. With age, it grew, scaring her even more than it had when she’d been five and it had reared its head to protect her until help had come.
“Fine, but you should know I am going to meet with this guy soon. I don’t care how dangerous you think it is,” she said, sashaying past Donnie, heading back toward the SUV.
“I don’t doubt that for a moment. You’re wicked stubborn.” He chuckled, shook his head, and motioned to one of his men. “Let’s move out.”
Holland was almost to the SUV when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her body tensed and her gut tightened.
Danger!
Her darkness practically shouted at her from within, commanding her attention. She couldn’t figure out what was wrong, only that it was bad. The strangest urge to reach out and thrust aside the security guard nearest her came over her, and she did. She tapped into a strength she didn’t know she even possessed and shoved the guard that she was pretty sure wasn’t qualified to be there. She pushed him in the other direction, away from the SUV they’d arrived in.
As Holland turned her head, her attention returning to the vehicle, she felt it then—the coming fire. Opening her mouth to scream in an attempt to warn the others, Holland was catapulted into the air as an intense wave of heat suddenly exploded close to her. One of the doors of the SUV blew off in the explosion and hit her full-on. Fire consumed the space around her, pressing against her, but not burning her.
The only pain she felt was from the blow from the door and then the ground. Not that the pain from both wasn’t substantial, but it hadn’t killed her.
The flames were still surrounding her when she sensed Donnie there, trying to get to her. Holland’s darkness reacted and she reached out, the flames dying down around her instantly.
Then Donnie was there, his olive-green eyes wide, shouting her name as he grabbed for her. The hit from the door left her slightly disorientated, so she didn’t respond right away. He bent, lifted her, and carried her away from what remained of the SUV. Holland glanced around and noticed a portion of the building they’d parked near was now totally gone. Everything was either on fire or covered in smoke.
Her ears rang and she knew Donnie was still shouting, but his voice sounded muffled. “Ms. Sandoval, how bad are you burned?”
Confused, she shook her head, Echo’s barks sounding through all the ringing. “I’m not.”
“That isn’t possible,” he said, setting her down a second before he began looking her over. His eyes widened as he did. “How?”
She touched her temple and came away with blood. “Ouch. I’m fine. Is anyone else hurt?”
“Joey is hurt. The rest of the team is banged up but alive. You were the closest one to the vehicle. You shouldn’t be…how are you…?” His gaze moved to the side and then narrowed.
She rubbed her head. “Echo? Is he hurt?”
Donnie pulled her up and thrust her behind his body quickly.
Her extremities started to tingle, just as they’d done twenty years ago—the night of the fire. Panic welled in her as she brought her hands up, trying to will whatever lived inside her to stop, to go back to sleep.
“Not now, darkness,” she whispered. “Please. Not now.”
Begging was pointless and she knew it. The sleeping giant in her had awakened and people would be hurt because of it.
Donnie twisted, aimed his weapon, and made a move for her. “Ms. Sandoval, stay behind me!”
She didn’t have time to ask why or even register what was going on before heat flared up around them again, coming from a parked car nearby. For one horrified long second, she feared she’d done it, that she’d caused the flames. Black smoke billowed up and out of what had been the parked car, the heat licking at her face.
She heard it then, the familiar sound of screams of agony, followed quickly by the smell of burning flesh. Her thoughts jumbled as something yanked her backwards, away from the flames and the burning vehicle.
“Ms. Sandoval!”
Donnie?
He was alive?
She blinked up as he pulled her in the direction of the very building he’d only just talked her out of entering. He thrust her behind the corner of it, put his back to the wall and opened fire on an enemy she couldn’t see. She wasn’t a trained operative and she certainly wasn’t taught to respond in a crisis situation. It was taking everything in her to control the raging, angry giant within.
Somehow, she managed to keep from screaming, though she wasn’t sure how. That was all she wanted to do—well, that and set the darkness she carried in her free. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see several vehicles moving in on their location at high speed. They squealed to a stop and men with weapons poured out. Donnie continued to fire in the other direction. Holland didn’t need anyone to tell her the newcomers were not friendlies and were not there to lend a hand.
Her gut said they were there to kill her and Donnie.
The already hot air around her began to crackle as stray strands of her black hair lifted. The same thing had happened to her before. She was as afraid of it then as she was now. There was the smallest flicker of pain in her eyes and she knew without seeing her reflection that they were no longer dark brown. They were orange. The color of flames.
As she focused on the convoy of armed men, she felt her hands tingling, the sensation moving up her arms fast. She spread her hands and let the raw energy building inside her go free.
One second there were four vehicles with around sixteen men surrounding them, all aiming at her and Donnie, and the next second there was simply one giant ball of flames. Much like what had happened to the SUV she’d arrived in.
Donnie pulled on her, as if to shield her from the explosion she’d caused. He sniffed the air, growled, and then his gaze snapped to hers. Holland tried to hide her eyes by closing them, but she was too late. He’d seen the change in her. Why wasn’t he freaking out?
In the past, whenever someone discovered what she could do, they panicked, or worse, tried to kill her. Well, Newt hadn’t done that.
Donnie simply grabbed her and tucked his body against hers protectively as everything around them seemed to shake.
“We have to move!” he shouted over the chaos all around them.
Holland simply stood in place, too stunned to move or respond, the training she’d been required to go through prior to being sent to the war-torn area went out the window. Being
trained and told about it was far different from being in the thick of it.
Donnie took her by the hand and began to pull, forcing her to run. The reality of it all began to sink in and Holland knew she was panicking. She couldn’t stop herself. Her mind raced back to Newt, and how he’d shown up and saved the day when she was little.
Newt, I could really use your help right about now.
Chapter Six
The strangest of sensations washed over Ezra, pulling him from the sleeping state he’d only just managed to achieve. Danger, fear, paranoia, and a sense of being disoriented poured over him. All of it combined into one muddled mix of emotions that swirled around within him. It disappeared, leaving only fragments of the feelings behind.
Was the dickhead vampire who got off on torturing others near? He hadn’t heard or sensed Felix once during his time being held captive, but that didn’t mean that Felix hadn’t boarded the boat recently. Though it was out of character for the vampire. He didn’t like to venture far from his home—from safety. His paranoia over being attacked was well-documented and had been part of the reason Ezra had been forced to spend so much time undercover working for the man.
Felix took more precautions against an attack. It made it harder to gain his trust and be permitted into the inner workings of the organization. Ezra had done what he’d had to, but had let his emotions get the best of him at the end. He’d met a young woman whose feisty spirit had reminded him of the little girl he’d helped from the fire. Alice had been the woman’s name and she’d been captured by Felix’s men, their intent to sell her, along with her best friend Mae.
Both young women had big futures ahead of them, and while Ezra had been able to shut off his emotions prior to that and do his job, he found himself unable to do so again.