“Ssshhh,” I said. “It’s okay, honey.”
The red dragon’s fire meshed with mine; every scorching blow strengthened the shield. I knew this because I heard the song. My fire was stronger than the dragon’s.
Its song was fading, and even though I couldn’t see past the black smoke, I knew it was being driven away. Frustration echoed in its fire. I hoped that meant rescue was imminent.
I hugged the boys. Then I laid a hand on Ralph’s cool brow. “Ralph,” I whispered.
To my shock, his eyes opened.
“What’s going on?” He sat up suddenly and gathered a sniffling Stephen and Michael into his arms. His gaze widened as he glanced around. “Everything’s on fire.”
“Don’t look at me,” I said, my voice shaking with relief. “I soooo didn’t do this.”
The fire’s harmony gave way to cacophony.
Whoomp!
Every last flame and wisp of smoke was sucked away, like a giant invisible Hoover had been turned on.
My shield disappeared instantly. Apparently it wasn’t immune to the vacuum. I could still feel the heated aftermath of the conflagration.
The closed door, which had somehow escaped the destruction, burst open. Damian and his brothers stood there, all holding fire extinguishers.
I threw up my hands and wailed, “Noooooo.”
Too late. All three nozzles discharged.
When they were done blasting us, the four of us were covered in a mountain of white.
“Did you really have to keep doing that?” I asked Damian. At least I think it was Damian. It was difficult to tell which brother was which.
“A precaution.” I could swear he was trying not to laugh. “We weren’t sure you could control your dragonfire.”
“How did you get the other flames out?”
“The magic of our resident Wiccans,” said Damian. “We drove off the dragon and they worked their spells.”
Wiccans. I remembered Patrick talking about them cleansing his house. This town really did have every kind of paranormal being imaginable.
“Are you okay, Libby?” asked Ralph. He hugged his sons closely, and I wrapped my arms around all of them.
“Completely freaked out, thanks. What about you?”
He kissed me. And suddenly everything was all right, even with wiggling three-year-olds protesting the squishing and lycanthrope triplets witnessing our smooch. When Ralph pulled back, he was grinning. Sunlight dappled his messed-up hair and slanted across his face.
Wait a minute. Sunlight?
He looked up, blinking at the hole above us. “I haven’t seen the sun in months.”
“Why aren’t you a pile of ash?” I asked.
“His dragon magic,” said Damian. We both looked at him and he shrugged. “We’ve been taking a crash course in dragonology from Ash. C’mon, Lia and her dragon aren’t gone for good.”
“Synd wasn’t with her?” asked Ralph.
“No. He’s been a little busy in Tulsa setting fires, targeting the businesses and homes of paranormal beings. Ash barely escaped the blaze at her hotel.”
I remembered the CNN report about the rash of supposed arson fires; the most recent one had been at the Crowne Plaza Hotel. I frowned. “How does he know which ones aren’t human?”
“We don’t know,” said Damian. “Just like we don’t know why he’s torching their places. Of course, it’s obvious why he wants to kill Ash.”
“Because everyone does?” I asked sweetly.
Ralph laughed, and I was glad he did. There wasn’t much cause for humor. The house was in shambles. The living room was smoldering embers, same as Ralph’s bedroom. It had to be difficult to see the destruction of the home where he’d spent his childhood, not to mention where he’d brought his bride and raised their sons. I felt my heart break for them.
The boys’ bedroom survived, and I was grateful for that. Despite Damian’s insistence that we vacate, I barreled past him and his brothers.
“They need toys,” I demanded. Dutifully, Damian took a book bag from the closet and scooped up playthings.
“Get the frog and the giraffe,” I said. I could only hope Stephen would accept one of the stuffed animals in lieu of his fried teddy.
One of the other brothers picked up the tiny dresser full of the twins’ clothes. “Let’s go,” he said.
Two brothers went ahead of us. Damian followed us, carrying the bag crammed full of toys. Ralph, who’d only been wearing pajama bottoms, held Michael tightly. Stephen clung to me, wailing his unhappiness about the “stinky bubbles.”
Michael thought the white foam was the greatest thing since chocolate pudding, evidenced by his attempts to stuff it into his mouth. Ralph stalled that maneuver and did the best he could to swipe the crap from his son.
I cleaned off Stephen’s face, which didn’t do much good since the kid kept pressing it against my froth-covered shoulder.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Compound,” said Damian. “It’s the safest place.”
His brothers led us to a black Hummer parked a few feet away. Its massive engine was running. The passenger-side window dropped down, and I saw a blue-haired woman in the driver’s side.
“C’mon,” she yelled. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
One of the triplets opened the door and Ralph slid in with Michael. I handed him Stephen and put my hand on the door.
I heard music. Not just music, but the gravelly voice of Kurt Cobain singing about where bad folks go when they die. I recognized the song blasting around us: Nirvana’s “Lake of Fire.” I didn’t have to look up to know the dragons were swooping down.
“C’mon!” yelled the driver. “Move your asses!”
My gaze met Ralph’s. He reached for me, but there was no time. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Ralph or those sweet little boys.
I slammed the door shut and the Hummer’s wheels spun in the snow as it took off. The triplets ran for cover, but I had nowhere to go.
Twin blasts of fire knocked me off my feet. I landed on my back, skidding across the snow. Above me, I could see the red and blue dragons circling.
Bastards.
“Oh my God!” screamed a very familiar voice. “Liberty!”
My mother and father ran across the yard toward me, completely ignoring the fact that they could be fried at any second. My heart slammed against my chest as I got up.
My inner dragon roared. There was no controlling it. Maybe it was that Sybina recognized her enemies, or that I was tired of getting blown up and knocked down.
The strains of The Doors’ “Light My Fire” rumbled from my core. Flames erupted along my hands, down my arms and legs.
Mom and Dad skidded to a stop about a foot away.
“Get down!” I shouted.
Dad didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Mom’s arm and chucked her into the snow, then lay on top of her. I marched across the yard. I had no idea what to do about protecting my family.
But my dragon did.
Fire swirled around me, glittering orange and red. I felt the magic in these flames. Sybina’s soul was there, too. She refused to be taken. To be destroyed.
My fire song changed to Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” I recognized the familiar guitar chords, but there were no words. Just the driving beat of the music.
Listening to my dragon, I lifted my arms and a big column of flames shot upward. The dragons parted and the fire blasted into the night sky, dissipating into mere wisps of black smoke.
Son of a bitch. I’d missed them. Both of them. So much for the paranormal power of friggin’ dragonfire. I lifted my arms to gather the fire again, but it wouldn’t . . . well, gather. No amount of mental cajoling helped, either. If I had known that I’d only get one chance to use my mojo, I might’ve aimed better. Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, much less the leathery flank of a dragon.
The red dragon broke pattern and blew
fire at a circle of women who looked like Desperate Housewives without the Botox treatments and Prada accessories.
I realized they were the Wiccans. Not one flinched. But why would they? Whatever spells they cast vanquished the dragon’s fire instantly.
Synd circled lazily above me. Why should he worry about when to fry me? It was obvious he had more power than I did, and probably far better aim.
My fire song grew more and more faint.
“Liberty!” called Dad.
I didn’t have the energy to turn around. I felt so drained. What was going on? I fell to my knees and, though it took a lot of effort, I managed to look up.
I could see my orange-red energy flowing toward Synd’s dragon form. His song rose in a crescendo, so loud it made my ears ring. I felt clammy, light-headed. I was tethered to the blue dragon. He was somehow sucking the life right out of me.
“Dad,” I said, my voice quivering. “Do you have a lighter?”
I didn’t know why the red dragon was bothering with the Wiccans, when I was obviously the prime target. Maybe it needed toys to play with while Synd killed me. Because I felt very much like I was dying.
Mom and Dad low-crawled toward me. When they reached me, Mom draped her arms around my shoulders. “How can we help?”
You gotta love my parents. They were the ultimate in going with the flow.
My throat clogged. I felt my blood thickening. All the warmth in my body was being siphoned away. “Need. Fire.”
Dad flicked a lighter near my fingertips. His hand shook as his gaze met mine. It was obvious he couldn’t set his little girl on fire. He looked scared, and that scared me. Dad was never afraid.
“Light. Me.”
“Are you sure, honey?”
“Elmore, give me that!” My mother yanked the lighter out of his hand and stuck it under my arm. The tiny flame offered a pianississimo note, so soft I could barely hear it. But it was there. I listened hard and welcomed its song.
“C’mon, Sybina,” I whispered. “Don’t let your brother win. Don’t let us die.”
My arm ignited. My mother dragged my father backward, away from me. The fire song surged through me as the flames rejoined my dragon soul. The rope of magic between me and Synd lengthened, getting thinner and thinner. His obnoxious music—Sheesh, what was that crap? Mötley Crüe on an elevator with ten seconds to live?—started to fade.
Synd bellowed and dove toward me.
Chapter 20
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The blue dragon screeched as it jerked in rhythm to each sharp crack. Several more shots were fired from invisible sources, and each one found a thigh, a wing, a leg. Wailing pathetically, Synd soared up into the inky dark and disappeared.
The red dragon stopped lobbing fireballs at the Wiccans. Roaring, it twisted around and flapped leathery wings double-time to catch up with its retreating companion.
“And don’t come back,” I shouted, shaking my fist. But I knew they would return, which in an odd way was a good thing because we still needed to get dragon spit.
In front of me, four large green bubbles, all emitting an electric hum, emerged out of thin air. Brady and his three-man rescue team appeared; all were dressed in a strange black material that couldn’t be burned, torn, or cut. They also held submachine guns of a make and model that did not technically exist. Both the outfits and the weapons were just more secrets Brady had brought with him from his mysterious government job.
The team surrounded me, Mom, and Dad, and took aim at the sky. If Synd made the mistake of returning, he’d get another round of bullets—hopefully in his big, stupid skull.
Brady stepped toward me and took off his headgear. His face was painted black. His brown eyes looked me over. His form of concern was to ascertain if there were injuries, and if so, how to treat them. That was about it. Brady was not an emotive man.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Peachy,” I said. My fire went out, my song shut up, and exhaustion poured through me.
“You’re naked,” he said. “And your hair’s on fire.”
I touched the top of my head and felt the heat of the flames still flickering there. I patted them out. Damn it. My body suffered no ill effects from the fire, but obviously I needed to rethink my wardrobe. Where could a girl buy clothes that were dragon-proof?
Without my dragonfire, I got cold, and quick. Brady removed his flak jacket and slung it over my shoulders. It was heavy but not warm. Then Dad wrapped his coat around me. I was buried to my ankles in snow. Very cold, icy snow.
I shivered and my teeth chattered.
“What’s the plan?” asked Brady.
“We get our daughter the hell out of here,” said Dad gruffly.
“I think we should stay,” said Mom.
“What for?” asked Dad.
“To meet vampires and werewolves. To study this fascinating town. To find out how our daughter became a dragon.” She looked at me, her brown eyes twinkling. “What else could you be? But mostly, Elmore, I think we should stay because the nice people headed this way probably won’t let us leave.”
“Men, move out.” Brady dropped his headgear and lifted his gun. “We’ll find you and get you out.”
He pushed a button on a wrist gadget. In the blink of an eye and a flash of sizzling green, he and his team disappeared.
“Wait!” yelled Patsy. She was followed by Gabriel, Lorcan, and several others. Behind them was a mud-splattered white Mercedes. On the other side of the yard, the triplets were herding the Wiccans into a large paneled truck.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” She marched up to us. “Who were those guys? Where did they go?”
“Brady and his team go wherever they like,” said my mother. She was not the kind of woman who could be bossed around by anyone.
“Not in Broken Heart,” snapped Patsy. “Call them back now.”
Mom turned her dark eyes on the vampire queen. “No.”
Patsy’s mouth dropped open. It took a full minute for her to grasp my mother’s unorthodox response to facing the ruler of vampires and werewolves. Then Patsy’s eyes went red and she pointed at Mom.
Mom raised her palm in a “stop” gesture. “Don’t bother with the glamour. I’m immune. We all are.”
“How the hell—”
“Can we save the interrogation until we get Liberty out of the snow and into some clothes?”
Patsy blinked, her ire cooled by my mother’s practicality. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Where’s the compound?” I asked.
“On the other side of town. Don’t worry, Ralph and his boys made it. They’re safe.” Patsy gestured to Lorcan. “Can you do that wooky-woo stuff and clothe the woman?”
“What the hell is wooky-woo?” I asked, alarmed. I stepped back, my gaze zeroing in on Lorcan. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” said Lorcan. “I can create clothing with my magic. Would you like to go somewhere private?”
Well, yeah. I think I’d been more naked in Broken Heart than I ever had at the nudist colony. Quite frankly, the only person in this town I wanted to see me naked was on the other side of town. I was so relieved that Ralph and the boys were okay, and yet a selfish part of me wished Ralph was here. Or I was there. I just wanted to see him with my own eyes.
Lorcan escorted me inside the smoldering house. The kitchen was intact, so we went in there.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll have to look at you in order to . . . er, do the wooky-woo.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who has to explain it to your wife,” I said, shucking off the coat and flak jacket.
He flinched. “Don’t remind me.”
Lorcan pointed his pale fingers at me, and gold sparkles shot out and wove around me. The first items that appeared were a white lace bra and matching panties. Thick socks and leather ankle boots materialized next, then faded jeans and a brown cashmere sweater. He’d even managed a long wool coat with a hood, and gloves—both a luxurious cream color.
“
Wow,” I said. “That’s the most awesome power I’ve seen yet. You’re like a walking Saks Fifth Avenue.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” He gestured for me to walk ahead of him. I didn’t know if he was being a gentleman or just cautious.
When I got back outside, my parents were gone, and so was everyone else. Only Gabriel and Patsy waited near the Mercedes.
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” I asked. Trepidation echoed in my voice.
“Don’t get your knickers in a knot,” said Patsy. “We sent them off to the compound. You can ride with us and tell me what the hell’s going on.”
Lorcan still walked behind me. Gabriel was on the other side of the Mercedes, his hand on the opened driver’s door. Patsy was in front of me, just a couple of feet away from the car.
I don’t know why I didn’t hear the fire song in time; the fireball that exploded the Mercedes was certainly screeching loudly enough.
Patsy was knocked to the ground in front me. Gabriel flew backward, across the street and into a copse of trees. I had no idea what had happened to Lorcan. Given the blaze, he might be ash. But Patsy wasn’t.
I grabbed her by the arms and dragged her away from the burning car. Heat buzzed in my spine and flared out to every nerve ending. Sybina was angry.
So was I.
My whole body quaked with a new power, a different energy I didn’t understand and wasn’t exactly controlling. I stared up at the creature as the electric heat whipped around me and Patsy.
When I looked up, I saw that the red dragon had returned. I hoped Synd was bleeding somewhere. And that he was in pain. Not very nice thoughts. Bad karma thoughts, but deserved, damn it.
The dragon flew backward and landed on the street. An Asian woman dressed in red leather slid off its back. Again with the leather! Ugh. She sashayed toward me, her smirk ruining an otherwise pretty face. Her aura was blue. I was beginning to understand the auras seen by my dragon half. Vampires were blue, werewolves were red, and, well, I wasn’t quite sure what purple or gold meant yet.
“Who are you?” she asked, though her tone indicated she couldn’t care less. Her gaze flicked to Patsy and her smarmy grin widened.
Energy crackled inside me. I felt encased in a tornado of heat, but the swirling power didn’t seem to impress the woman. She put her palms about a foot apart. A ball of fire formed in the space between her hands.
Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home Page 14
