Wildfire: A Paranormal Mystery with Cowboys & Dragons

by Mina Khan

  Fine, I get it. His head sank toward Lynn’s half-smiling mouth.

  Her face turned towards him. The smile disappeared and her dark eyes swirled with emotions. The desire he saw in them made his own flare. Her ragged breathing, or maybe his, filled the silence. Jack kept his gaze locked onto hers as he moved closer. His heart rode hard inside his chest. He stopped inches from her lips, letting their breaths mingle, giving her a last chance to decide if she wanted this, wanted him. When she didn’t move, he closed his eyes and let himself fall.

  She shifted in his arms.

  Jack’s eyes flew open as his lips pressed against a cool, soft palm. Lynn stood, eyes closed, the back of her right hand pressed against her mouth. How could such a soft, delicate hand be such a formidable wall?

  Disappointment stung over and over, like an angry wasp. He sighed and pulled his emotions under control. She trembled against him. He moved his mouth to her ear. “Rainbow at three o’clock.”

  She looked at him. Her eyes glittered with emotion. “Jack, I’m sorry, but—“

  He pressed his fingers to her lips. Pillow soft lips. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “And you really are missing a great rainbow.” He turned her to face outwards.

  He stared at the rainbow without really seeing it. Lynn filled his mind. He could be clueless at times, but not this time. She’d wanted the kiss as much as he did. He’d seen his hunger reflected in her eyes. What had gone wrong? Why had she stopped him?

  Chapter 12

  During the drive back to Jen’s house Lynn’s mind replayed the almost-kiss over and over again.

  Having his strong arms around her had made her feel safe, feminine. It’d been nice to not think of herself as a dragon, a protector of the weak and innocent, but just as a woman. Did he have to smell so good? The scent of clean sweat and evergreens, warmed through with a hint of musk, intoxicated her. A jumble of emotions —that she didn’t feel brave enough to untangle— roiled through her. On top of that, silence squatted between them like an invisible troll. She hadn’t meant for things to go that far.

  Lynn peeked at Jack. He looked lost in thought, his face a blank page with shadows. Her gaze fixed on his full lips. With each breath she drank in another intoxicating whiff of his rich, warm male scent. Desire swirled in the pit of her stomach. What would his kiss have tasted like? Would it have been gentle and playful or raw with hunger and need?

  The truck slowed and stopped. Lynn dragged her gaze to peer outside. The early evening sun painted a pretty picture around a two-story building, constructed of native stones and adorned with the standard façade of a past era.

  Despite the peeling paint, boarded up windows and graffiti on the walls, the structure still displayed graceful federal pillars, an arched pediment over the main entrance and beautiful moldings. A flat-roofed gallery with a saw-tooth edged awning —now tattered and dusty— wrapped around the building.

  “Wow, that must have been really beautiful,” Lynn said, eyeing the swirly leaves decorating the concrete cornice. “But what’s it doing in the middle of nowhere?”

  “That’s the Range Hotel, one of the fanciest in all of West Texas at one time,” Jack said. “From the early 1900s until 1970 this area was considered a health center because of its dry climate and remoteness. The government built the State Tuberculosis Sanatorium here, and hotels and motels sprang up between what was known as Sanatorium, Texas and San Angelo to cater to the families and friends of the patients.”

  Lynn took in the copper gutters glowing in the sunset. “What happened?”

  Jack shrugged. “New medical advances and drugs almost wiped out TB in the United States. The state hospital was converted to the San Angelo State School to serve mentally handicapped men and women,” he said. “Over the years, the Range changed hands and ran down. Now it’s a transients’ hangout.”

  Her gaze moved over several bedraggled and grimy homeless men loitering on the steps. Their stooped and worn bodies crumpled together. Some looked away, others stared back with vacant eyes. A tingle of fear crept into her mind. Was the man stalking her around town among them?

  Lynn shook her head. “It’s sad to see it falling apart like this.” She searched the faces. “But, at least it’s still providing shelter to some.”

  “Yeah.” Jack started the pickup.

  Lynn kept her eyes on the huddle of men as they drove away. A familiar figure in a tattered coat emerged from among the pillars and planted himself on the road. Lynn’s spine went rigid as her gaze met his. The man raised a shaky hand and spread two fingers into a V. He pointed at his eyes, and then aimed them at her. I’m watching you. A breath hissed out of her.

  “You okay?” Jack glanced at her.

  “Just a leg cramp,” she answered massaging her right calf. Lynn glanced back and smiled. She did have another suspect.

  Cannon bounded to the door to greet Jack, welcoming him home with loud woofs and sloppy licks.

  “Why can’t girls be more like you?” Jack said, burying his face into the dog’s hairy neck. “Uncomplicated and enthusiastic.”

  Cannon turned his head and gave him a sympathetic look. Jack grinned and scratched behind the dog’s ears. Hot breath puffed into his face and he pulled away. “Phew! Dog breath. Okay, I’m glad she’s nothing like you.”

  Jack threw himself on the couch, his mind churning. He replayed different parts of the day over and over again. He’d definitely enjoyed himself. He thought Lynn had too. They’d laughed a lot. That was a good sign, right? He raked fingers through his hair. And they’d talked about all kinds of things. Strange, despite coming from very different places, both their families had much in common. Lynn had looked so strong, yet vulnerable, speaking about her grandmother. He’d wanted to hold her tight. Okay, truth be told, he’d wanted a hell of a lot more.

  Jack leaped up and paced the room. But he’d settled for holding hands. Much less forward. Anyhow, she hadn’t pulled away. Yeah, if you’d asked him things had been going damn great. He stopped and frowned. “So why didn’t the kiss happen?”

  He shook his head and stalked to the library. He ran his fingers along the spines of some books. His father had shelved them alphabetically. He started pulling books out, and piling them according to subject matter. Time for a little change around here.

  Maybe she wasn’t interested. Her face, flushed with desire, filled his mind. A jolt of answering need speared through Jack. He stopped and leaned against the bookshelf. Oh yeah, no denying the attraction. He gulped and strode to another section of the library. Pulled more books out.

  Okay, he wanted her, she wanted him and both happened to be consenting adults. So what was the problem? He ran a hand over his face and sneezed. Damn, he needed to dust this place. Maybe she didn’t want a short and sweet fling, but a relationship. Lynn seemed like a nice girl, the kind who’d want a meaningful relationship, the kind that deserved romance.

  He sank to the floor and sat Indian style among the precarious towers of books. Yeah, that must be it. She wanted a relationship. Jack propped up his face with his hand. Nothing wrong with nice women having fun, not everything had to be serious. He considered himself a nice guy and he’d never had a long-term relationship. Somehow, all the females he’d dated had been passing through his life on their way somewhere else. And what was wrong with that? Both parties had fun. Nobody got hurt and people continued with their life.

  Images of his sister Annie and her husband Glenn, working together on the ranch, rocking on their porch swing, and laughing, popped into his mind. Jack shook off the loneliness that gripped him. Yeah, some people had happily-ever-afters, some had romantic interludes, and then others got stuck in unhappy marriages, like his mother and grandmother. He sighed.

  He pulled out Annie’s wedding album and flipped through it. She’d been so happy and beautiful that day, glowing and beaming at everybody, including her annoying little brother. He stopped at a picture of her and him dancing together. Then Jack moved onto a picture of
her and Glenn’s first official kiss. Thank God, Annie had found love and happiness. He pictured himself and Lynn in the same place. Did he dare hope for Happily-Ever-After? Would she have him despite his being a Callaghan? Could she love him? Could he love her the way she deserved?

  A relationship. Did he want a relationship with Lynn?

  His breath caught and an odd stillness welled up inside. The sound of his heartbeat amplified and echoed in his head, silencing all thought.

  Yes.

  Shaking, Jack stood and stumbled away from the books. He flopped into the chair at his desk and took a few deep breaths. A relationship. Talk about new frontiers. He switched on the computer and pulled up the internet.

  He didn’t know if he was relationship material or not, but he planned to give it a hell of a shot. He typed her name, grinning like an idiot as his heart did a drum roll. Googling her. What next? Passing her notes?

  Jack skimmed the first thirty references. A fairly recent engagement announcement in the Houston Chronicle caught his eye and he clicked on it. After an unbearable wait, a black and white photograph formed. A smiling Lynn and a Robert Uriah Neff III stared back at him.

  “Fuck.” He shoved away from the desk.

  “Stupid bitch!” The dragon master hurled the empty beer bottle at the wall. Shattering glass brought him a few moments of calm. How dare Lynn like someone else?

  Didn’t she realize what he could offer her? Maybe she wasn’t good enough for him. Any woman with taste and standards would choose him— the artist, the man who controlled the dragon. He let out deep, jagged breaths, hating himself for feeling like the ten-year-old whose best friend just dumped him to hang out with the cooler kids. He could have any woman he wanted.

  With shaking hands, he lit another cigarette and took deep, desperate pulls. The aroma, the taste, the heat of the fire filled his breath, enveloped his body. The smoke caressed him with soothing touches. He grasped at the comfort offered by the dragon. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Damn it, he wanted Lynn.

  Her face, her body, filled his mind. His heart slammed against his ribs. How could a woman with fire in her spirit choose anyone but him? Every time their eyes met, her nature called to his. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, wishing he could ignore her siren call. Oh for silence, blessed silence.

  The thought of being without Lynn left him cold. He took another drag of the cigarette, inhaled the dragon spirit deep within himself. Last night he’d dreamt of the dragon again. All gleaming black, breathing an inferno.

  But this time, there’d been another. A jewel-toned blue-green female. They’d circled the autumn moon, great wings flapping, singing the fire song. Then— he licked his lips— then, they’d mated.

  Want shivered through him as he recalled the vision of the two great dragons writhing and wrestling among the clouds. Their raw passion stirred up a storm, until winds chased clouds from the sky, lightning crackled and thunder boomed. He groaned as his own lust burned bright at the memory and his jeans tightened uncomfortably. Fingers strayed to his erection.

  He must have Lynn. The dragon meant it to be so. What else could the dream mean?

  Lynn. He’d sensed fear in her. A hesitation. He smiled into the dark and crushed the cigarette at the edge of the growing pile of butts on the table. Of course, he was the dragon master. Perhaps she was awed. Perhaps she couldn’t imagine he’d want her.

  He laughed as the solution came to him. She was a woman, his woman, and he’d have to woo her.

  All he needed was a little bit of time. Then she’d see the truth and choose him.

  Pushing out of the chair, he stumbled across to the cooler to get himself another beer. He twisted the cap off and took a swig. Cold, bitter liquid tumbled down his throat, relieving some of the disappointment that his mate wasn’t as perfect as he’d thought. She’d see her error. Otherwise, she’d pay. She and her friend would burn.

  If he couldn’t have her, no one could.

  But the drink didn’t quench the dragon inside. The need for a fire gnawed at him. Yes, he could wait for Lynn, but something had to burn soon. Very soon.

  The dragon’s roar ricocheted in his head.

  Chapter 13

  Lynn woke drenched in sweat, her heart going like a jackhammer. A scream stuck, half-uttered, in her throat. Her gaze darted about the dark room, trying to see into the shadows. Her sleep had been fractured by fits of troubled dreams and pulse-pounding awakenings.

  Fires. Fires everywhere. The entire countryside pockmarked by bonfires.

  What had woken her this time? A noise? Did the phone ring? She forced herself to lie still, listening. Seconds slid into minutes and seemed like eternity. Nothing, except for the loud ticking clock.

  Dreams or warning? Unease tingled under her skin like the buzz of an electric shock.

  Lynn kicked off the sweat-dampened covers and swung her legs to the floor. Serenity. Courage. Wisdom. She’d repeat the mantra for as long as it took to fight off the fear. She pushed her fingers through her hair and glanced at the bedside clock. Three freaking a.m. Again. She closed her eyes and groaned, knowing sleep wouldn’t come.

  Hugging herself, Lynn decided to walk around the house, double checking the windows and doors. Uneasiness reverberated inside her as she made her way through the dark, silent house. Dragon genes made it easy for her to see, but nothing undue caught her attention. Yet she was aware of a presence. A large, dark presence hovering on the edge of her mind.

  She stood undecided on the threshold of the back door. Part of her wanted to run back and dive under warm, safe covers. Another part tensed, determined to face an unknown adversary. She had vowed to stop the rogue and she would. Huffing out a breath, Lynn grabbed her backpack, unlocked the door and stepped onto the dew-wet grass.

  An unnatural silence greeted her. She cocked her head this way and that, listening. Why weren’t the cicadas and katydids singing their night songs? It wasn’t cold enough yet to kill them off. Lifting her face to the full moon, she sniffed. No tell-tale smell of smoke.

  She glanced about her, searching.

  Brilliant stars glittered in the dark velvet sky. Night in the countryside, without any artificial lights, was breathtaking. But tonight a sense of danger edged her wonder. Perhaps it was nothing but her paranoia. Still, no harm in an aerial patrol. She stripped off her PJs and stuffed them into her backpack, shouldered the straps, and stood naked under the moonlight.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing. As her muscles relaxed, Lynn cleared her mind of niggling worry and called the dragon. The change rushed through her veins, charging her with its energy, renewing her essence. Power filled her limbs and cells as she took on dragon form.

  Lynn coiled her muscles into a tight bunch and leapt toward heaven. Her powerful wings flapped until they caught the wind and rode. She decided to circle all of Paradise Valley. Thinking of the strange homeless man she’d encountered twice, she headed for the derelict hotel.

  When she reached it, darkened windows stared like unseeing eyes. Nothing moved. Again a whiff of anger and dragon musk tinged the air. She circled the building twice, peeking into windows. Bodies huddled together or curled up alone on dirty floors.

  Shifting with the wind, Lynn changed direction, skated higher, and continued on her patrol. The beauty of dark land and shimmering river glimpsed through a constantly-shifting veil of gray clouds soothed her. She stretched her neck, spread her wings as far as she could, and gave in to the exhilaration.

  Lynn gazed below at the dark, clustered rectangles she identified as buildings and landmarks around town. She passed several spires and crosses, naming each church under her breath. She hoped none of the townspeople were awake. What wild tales might flourish if someone caught her silhouetted against the silver moon?

  She scanned both the skies and the land beneath. Wariness rode between her shoulders and drove her forward. A movement far below caught her attention. Lynn hovered in the air, her gaze fixed on the shad
ows. A pickup shot out of the darkness. Even though the headlights were turned off, its body gleamed ghostly pale in the silver moonlight.

  A breath hissed out of her. Someone else seemed to be awake. Someone who didn’t want to be too obvious about his or her whereabouts. Could it be the arsonist? She tracked the vehicle from above as it weaved between buildings, through shadow and light. Once the pickup left the town environment and hit the open road, it became a lot easier to follow. She paced herself to match the truck’s speed.

  When it passed Jen’s house, Lynn hazarded a guess. Jack’s home was next. Could the unknown driver be headed there? Could it be Jack or was it someone who wanted to hurt Jack? With a burst of adrenaline, she shot forward and raced ahead. Her heart zipped.

  The ranch house and its surroundings stood still and dark. She dropped down into the trees edging the property, hoping Cannon wasn’t running loose. Breathing ragged, she waited a few minutes. No barking, leaping, licking dog attack. She shifted.

  Lynn cursed as she dug through her backpack. She’d forgotten to pack a new change of clothes after the last time. Shit. Shivering in the chilled night, she changed back into her pajamas. Then, hidden in the trees and bushes, she crept closer to the house, squatted in the shadows. Lynn fidgeted to keep the blood circulating in her limbs. Pins and needles would not only be annoying, but a damned hindrance if she needed a quick escape.

  The soft rumble of the diesel engine thrummed in the air.