The Accidental Dragon

by Dakota Cassidy

  Nina had said acceptance was the hardest part. No truer words. “Okay. So let’s go meet this guy who ordered the spice.”

  “No. You stay here and rest, T. I’ve got it.”

  “Um, no. I’m just as much in this as you are. I’m going, too.”

  Mick sighed, his wide chest inflating and deflating with that hiss of air that said he was becoming aggravated with her. “You just had a traumatic experience. Stay here. Rest. Shower.”

  “No more traumatic than you. I’m going. You have no say in the matter.” She grabbed her spare coat and threw it on, taking a hat and a pair of gloves from her countertop.

  “I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Tessa.”

  “I know. You don’t think anything I do is a good idea, Mick. But you know what? Tough shit. I’m going.”

  Nina snorted a laugh. “Leave her alone, fireman. She’s got us. We’ll protect her. Now let’s go. Marty’s got the car warmed up.”

  Tessa’s stomach lurched again. Some of it was due to the wrenching pain she’d experienced when her wings decided they were done for the day.

  It was god-awful—a searing stab of agony, a crunch of bones and flesh. But upon examination afterward, it was like nothing had ever been flapping around on her back.

  But most of her fear came from the thought of finding out who this man was. Who would know about something as obscure as a powdery substance that produced dragons? Surely he knew what it did. He’d paid ten grand for it.

  But why? To what end?

  As they all piled into Marty’s SUV, reeking of smoke and sweat, Tessa shivered violently. So violently, Marty slung an arm around her and tucked her close to her side, rubbing her arms.

  While they drove through her small town, everything familiar and close to her heart passing by, Tessa knew deep in her gut—whatever they were about to find out would come to no good.

  Nina pulled up along the curb of Tessa’s shell of a store, smoke still rising in small black puffs, a cavernous wasteland of piles of burned trash.

  A tear slid from Tessa’s eye. Three years. Three years she’d spent cultivating her love for, as Mick called it, all things old and musty. Three years of learning, and failing, and making contacts, and growing, and getting three steps ahead only to fall ten steps back.

  Maybe Mick was right. Maybe this dream of hers had been stupid. Maybe she should have taken the money Noah left her and gone to college. She’d sure wasted a ton of time figuring out what she wanted to do with her life before he’d died.

  And now it was all gone. The insurance would probably never cover the cost of some of her more prized antiques. So what would she do? Move on? Maybe even move away. There wasn’t anything left for her here but Mick, and watching him from afar was like dying a little every day.

  Maybe it really was time to try something else, somewhere else.

  As long as it involved wings and fire-breathing, of course. She could join the circus. Be a sideshow. Do kids’ parties, maybe.

  Nina popped the driver’s door open and looked back at them with a warning in her coal-black eyes. “You two stay here. Do not move a fucking muscle. If this guy is anything like us, you’ll thank me.”

  She slid out of the car without another word, taking Marty and Wanda with her.

  “God, they’re badass, huh?” Mick commented, watching Nina skulk toward the side of the store while Wanda and Marty flanked the door and the other side.

  “What’s the catch?”

  Mick looked at her, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  She still felt uneasy about leaving all their eggs in this OOPS basket. “Do you think they want money?”

  “Their website says they’re nonprofit. I checked on my phone.”

  Tessa twisted around to look at him, still sore from her de-winging. “Then why are they being so nice? What’s in it for them? There has to be a reason.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m telling you, I bet they work for the govern—”

  A loud rumble, thunderous even, cut her off. A rumble and then a flash of lightning streaking across the sky. In the middle of winter in Vermont?

  Tessa climbed over Mick to see where the noise had come from, pulling on the door handle just as she saw Nina fall forward, facedown, on the cement walkway leading to the door of the store.

  Tessa pushed the door open and lunged from the car, tripping and almost falling on the uneven, snow-covered ground as she ran to Nina. In fact, as afraid as she was of Nina, she didn’t even think twice about it.

  She dropped to her knees, pushing the hair from the vampire’s face. “Nina!” she yelped, giving her a hard shake. “Are you okay?” She grabbed her wrist and began feeling for a pulse. No pulse.

  Nina groaned, rolling to her back. “Get off, dude. I don’t have a pulse. Soul sucker, remember?”

  Tessa’s chest heaved, the exertion of simply running after her de-winging having sucked the energy right out of her. “What happened?”

  “The fuck if I know,” she growled, sitting up. “I was on my way in to see if anyone showed up, and the whole fucking world caved. What the fresh hell is going on?”

  Mick went the other way, scooping up Wanda and Marty and helping them to their feet. The heel of Marty’s boot had been blown clear off, but the women shrugged Mick off, rushing to Nina’s side.

  “What in all of heaven was that?” Wanda asked, her eyes sparkling under the moonlight.

  Marty peered into the darkness of the store. “I don’t know, but whatever it was, it’s in there.” She pointed at a dark lump Tessa couldn’t distinguish from the pit of black at the opening of the store.

  Nina was on her feet in seconds and flying toward the entry, her long hair streaming behind her in a ribbon of inky black. “Well, looky here, would ya!” she bellowed, dragging something up from the floor and dangling it.

  Something that looked heavy—something bulky.

  Mick shoved Tessa behind him as they all approached.

  “Put me down, you animal!” a voice said. One that reminded Tessa of the voice of Pooh Bear from all those books she used to have on audio. Even in distress, it held childlike warmth to it, a sweetness she was sure would calm in times of trouble.

  As they got closer, Tessa’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shape was a man. Likely the one who’d texted her.

  Nina let the man dangle from her fingertips as though he weighed nothing more than a pair of socks. She held him up to her face, assessing him before she asked, “Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you ruining my GD vacation?”

  “Nina!” Marty screeched, coming to a halt at her friend’s side. “Put him down—now.”

  Nina didn’t bother to sass Marty; instead, she dropped the man like he was a hot potato. He fell in another crumpled mess of limbs at her feet.

  Wanda knelt down beside him, rolling him to his back. “Who are you, and what just happened?”

  He groaned amidst the puddles of water and soot. “I’m here to meet a Miss Preston to pick up a package. What sort of shoddy customer service is this? Why would you treat me this way?”

  Tessa stared down at him while Mick shone a flashlight over his face. He was, tops, maybe late forties, with a sweet, round face and gentle eyes. “You’re the one who ordered the spice from India?” She held out her hand to him, offering him help up, keeping in mind that he was a client.

  He took it, pulling himself to his feet and brushing at his black coat, soggy from the debris. His blue eyes were watery in the glare of the flashlight. He had the sort of eyes that always looked as though he’d just rubbed the sleep from them. “I am.”

  Nina jammed her face in his, her confrontational manner in overdrive.“So you got some ’splainin’ to do.”

  The man leaned backward as if he found Nina’s very existence abhorrent. His brow, shiny with perspiration, wrinkled. “Sorry?”

  She poked a finger in his chest. “You damn well should be. Do you have any idea the bullshit
you stirred up? You’re fucking up a perfectly good vacation, weasel. So get on with the explanations.”

  He appeared to be aghast, his sweet, round face now scrunched in a bewildered tangle of confusion. “What did you call me?”

  Nina nodded, affecting that menacing stance again. “Weasel. Who are you?”

  The man puffed his cheeks out, his nose turning red, wincing as he looked up at Nina. “I’m Frank. Who . . .” His tone wobbled before he appeared to tap into some inner strength. “Are you?”

  “Your worst fucking nightmare, Frank. So explain. Do it fast. Do it now. Or I’ll chew off your short, little legs with my big, shiny teeth.” In full threat mode, Nina flashed her fangs at him.

  Frank trembled—visibly, his rounded shoulders quaking under his coat. “I don’t know what you want me to explain. I’m here to pick up my order.”

  Nina bobbed her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Nice play on innocent and light, buddy. Not fallin’ for it. Now, this spice. What the fuck is it, and get on with it because I want to get the hell out of here.”

  Mick stepped in then, putting himself between Nina and Frank. “I’m Mick Malone. This is Tessa Preston. As you can see, we’ve had a bit of a mishap here at the store.”

  Frank took another step back, tripping on a torched ottoman before righting himself. “I see that.”

  Mick moved forward, but Mick often forgot how imposing his size could be. “So, this spice. What’s it for?”

  Frank inched backward again, his face now fearful and wary. “What business is it of yours? I paid good money to have it delivered here. That’s really all you need to know. Now, where is the package? I’m rather in a rush.”

  Tessa tugged at Mick’s arm, stepping around him, a the-customer-is-always-right smile on her face. “I need to know for my own personal records, Frank. That’s all,” Tessa reassured him, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort.

  “So where is it?” Frank asked, shifting from foot to foot, his eyes scanning the landscape of the store. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I really have to be going.”

  Tessa bit her lip. “There’s been a bit of a problem.”

  “Yeah, there has.” Nina inserted herself into the conversation again. “There’s a big problem, Frank.”

  Frank’s face took on a worried frown. “I don’t understand. What kind of problem? You said the sca . . .” He cleared his throat, running his finger around the rim of the collar on his buttoned up jacket. “You said the spice was here.”

  Tessa bobbed her head, not even a little concerned with how crazy she must look to this man right now with her hair singed and her clothes covered in soot. “It was, but as Mick said, we had a bit of an accident.”

  Frank tucked his chin to his chest, peering up at them with clear hesitance. “I’m hoping that accident didn’t involve my order.”

  Nina slapped Frank on the back and grinned. “Guess what?”

  He jolted forward, his meek eyes looking up at her. “I’m afraid to guess.”

  “Try,” Nina goaded.

  “It’s been ruined in the fire?”

  Nina shook her head, the strings on her hoodie dancing under the flashlight. “Close, buddy. But not quite. Guess again.”

  Frank gave his head a quick shake as though he were trying to clear it. “Please,” he fretted. “I don’t have time for guessing games.”

  Nina rocked back on her heels. “Awww, c’mon. I miss my kid. She loves games. Humor me.”

  Frank squared his shoulders, managing to straighten his spine. “You have children?”

  Tessa winced, though, in all fairness, Nina was the least likely parent ever—even to a complete stranger.

  Nina didn’t answer. Instead, she growled at him.

  Frank began to posture, an odd sort of summoning of his will, mingling with a clear hesitant approach. “Miss, I don’t have time for foolishness. What happened to the spice?” he almost yelled, but instantly cowered when Nina gave him her death glare.

  Tessa put her hands up, daring to step in front of Nina. She held her breath while she did it, but she did do it. If her soul was in jeopardy, so be it. They needed answers. Not gnawed-off limbs and mangled souls. “Um, Frank, here’s what happened—”

  But Frank began to tremble—literally. His whole body began to shake violently, his arms and legs shuddering.

  The sodden floor beneath them shook, too, trembling and quaking, kicking up spatters of water and sodden debris.

  And then there was the wail—a screeching roar of sound—tearing through her eardrums, making everyone fall to their knees and clap their hands over their ears.

  What the hell was going on? Fear rippled along her spine when Mick reached for her, grabbing her hand to yank her out of harm’s way as the floor began to split before their very eyes.

  And Frank. He shimmered.

  Shimmered with tiny sparkles of light, making his body waver with color.

  Then he began fading, coming into focus in vivid colors before the air felt like it was sucked out of the room. Chunks of the store’s wreckage flew as though lifted by invisible hands, small cyclones of wet paper picked up speed, whirling through the space, and the roof began to collapse in hunks, raining down on them with hard pelts of roof tiles and soaked Sheetrock.

  Tessa’s eyes flew to Mick’s before they both sprang into action, grabbing onto Nina, Marty, and Wanda and forcing them to run. “Get out!” she screamed above the unrelenting whir of the high-pitched buzz.

  Mick pushed everyone ahead of him toward the store’s entry, hustling them out just as the roof began to cave entirely.

  As they reached the walkway, Tessa turned around to get a last glimpse of Frank, his image quivering in bright hues just as he screamed a name. A name that sent a chill down her spine “No, Noah!” he croaked on a strangled cry before he disappeared entirely and the store collapsed in a thunderous moan.

  Mick’s eyes met hers in confusion before he looked back at the scene in the store. She rested her hands on her knees, panting for breath, drawing fresh air into her raw lungs, her mind reeling from Frank’s words.

  And Mick was there, kneeling next to her, running his hands over her back while everything around them exploded.

  * * *

  TESSA dried her hair, grateful for the fresh scent of shampoo after all that smoke. She’d stood a long time under the hard spray of her shower, absorbing the things she’d seen tonight. Processing what had happened to not just Mick but her, too.

  The paranormal was real. She couldn’t deny it. She wanted to climb into her bed, pull the covers over her head, and pretend this was all some nightmare, but she couldn’t.

  Nina was real. So real. She had fangs and drank blood, and she made Lestat look like a chump poser.

  So she’d allowed herself a long, hot shower full of freak-outs and tears before she pulled herself up by her bootstraps and blew her nose.

  Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she took deep breaths before tugging on a clean pair of sweats and a sweater.

  If Mick could take this like a big boy, so could she.

  Why does everything have to be a competition between you two, Tessa? She heard Noah’s words, as loud and as clear as if he were right in the room with her.

  Noah.

  God, she missed him. She missed his insight, his laugh, his stupid, long-winded jokes with the pathetic, never-funny punch lines. For a long time, they’d only had each other after their parents died. They’d stayed as tight as two siblings could. She’d made sure of it.

  Until he died of smoke inhalation, fighting a fire. She’d flopped around like a fish out of water for a long time after Noah’s death, trying to figure out how she was going to face a future with just her in it. Her parents were both gone, a couple of years before Noah died, but his death had left her feeling like she was floating, without roots to tether her.

  No purpose, no focus, no particular place to go. And alone. So alone. Until she’d found the store, and her oneti
me weekend antiquing hobby became her passion—a way to feel something other than empty inside.

  That was all gone now. Burnt to the proverbial crisp.

  And she had wings.

  And you’re skipping right over the part you spent the most time freaking out about, Tessa.

  She nodded at her reflection as she ran a brush through her hair. She sure was. Because to ask herself what it meant, how, of all the names in the world, Frank had chosen her brother’s, was to acknowledge that this was beyond real.

  But why did Frank call out Noah’s name?

  There: addressed.

  Oh, no, T. How did Frank know your brother’s name? Why, of all the names in the universe, would he choose your brother’s?

  Another shiver ran up her spine, a dark, ominous shiver. Okay. Why did Frank scream Noah’s name? There. Addressed some more.

  She squirted some hand cream on her fingertips and began rubbing it on her chapped cheeks, noting that her eyes looked dull and her hair stringy.

  But her reflection mocked her. No, Tessa. You need to talk to Mick about it. He heard Frank yell it, too. Maybe it’s a clue to what’s going on.

  She couldn’t talk to Mick about Noah. They always fought over what Noah would say or do in any given situation—even though he was no longer here to tell them what he’d do. They fought over who knew Noah better.

  They fought.

  Noah had become a sore spot between them. Instead of bringing them closer together, his memory came between them, and Tessa couldn’t figure out why.

  Mick wouldn’t talk to her much after Noah died. They’d always argued when Noah was alive, but there’d been less of an edge to it then. It wasn’t as go-for-the-throat as it was now. It had been far more playful back then. Fun, maybe even flirty on her part, when she really let herself go. But after Noah was gone, everything went sideways.

  Mick had clammed up so tight, he almost hadn’t spoken at all during that awful time.

  He’d stood stoically beside her every step of the way, right until they’d lowered Noah’s body into the ground. But if she even attempted to scratch the surface of his pain after the funeral, he battened down the hatches. And then, like a light switch, things had gone almost back to normal. Just like they used to be, but with a harder edge.