by Mina Khan
“Phone call! Somebody from the paper,” Jen said, poking her head in.
Lynn pushed out of the blankets and glanced at the radio-clock next to her. “At four in the morning? On Sunday?”
“Something about an emergency they need you to cover,” Jen said, holding out the phone toward her.
A sigh leaked out of Lynn. “I’ll be right there,” she said, rolling out of bed. One good thing about working in advertising and plugging away at the never-ending novel— assignments never came this early. She stumbled to the door, rubbing her eyes, and took the phone.
“Hello?” She mimed out writing. Jen nodded and disappeared.
“I’ve a surprise for you. A special gift.” The deep, dark voice wrapped around her like a dense shroud, sending a shiver flickering through her. She stumbled against the door frame and leaned on it for support.
“Who’s this? What do you want?” The questions came in sharp bursts as she clutched the phone.
He laughed. A soft, relaxed chuckle. “It’s okay, Lynn,” he said. “I know what you are and I want to be your friend.” He paused for a breath. “And more.”
A shadow crossed her mind and she barely suppressed a shudder. Who the hell was this? What did he know? Had he sent the roses? Was it Jack? She couldn’t tell. Something seemed to be muffling and distorting the voice.
Jen returned with pen and paper. She snatched them from her.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Act tough and he’ll sob out a confession. Maybe.
“Language, language.” Amusement laced his voice. “You’re a beautiful woman, you should act like one.”
Lynn swallowed the expletive stomping on her tongue. Fine, two could play that game. “I don’t have friends without names.”
“In time, you’ll have it. Along with my heart.”
Crazy with a capital C. Lynn’s throat turned cotton-dry. She swallowed a few times. “Are you the fire-starter?”
“Fire,” he whispered. “You should come see this fire I built for you. It’s burning so bright.”
Fuck. Lynn dropped the pen, scrambled around on the floor and found it. “Where— where is it?” Her heart thundered inside her as she jotted down directions. “I’ll be right there.”
The fire was at the Tavistock ranch. Memory of the outspoken rancher and his charming wife haunted her. Please let them be okay. She gripped the backpack in her lap so hard that her nails bit into the leather.
“Fucking crazy dragon! He did this to win me? How dare he use me as a reason?” she seethed as the car jumped forward.
“Crazy dragons don’t need reasons,” Jen said, stepping on the gas.
Lynn let out a breath. The problem was the man seriously believed she’d be impressed by arson. So in a roundabout way, she’d caused the latest fire. Concern for the Tavistocks filled her. Please, please let them be okay.
They arrived at the scene at the same time as the fire department. The firefighters tumbled out of their vehicles and rushed towards the burning ranch house. Lynn spotted Jack’s truck already parked just outside the gates. He must have got here earlier. Was he here as a volunteer firefighter? Or had he been the one to call, the first one on the scene? Doubt made her heart freeze and shatter into a million shards. Jack. So it was Jack.
Seeing them, Jack emerged from his pickup; he wasn’t in uniform. His gaze latched onto hers as he stood framed by the house engulfed in flames.
“Stop right there!” A gunshot echoed into the night, freezing everybody. Tavistock, dressed formally in a Western tux, a black Stetson perched on his head, stood on the porch. He lowered his gun from its raised position and pointed it at the approaching people.
“What the hell?” the fire chief roared.
“This is private property. And you all can’t come in,” Tavistock replied.
Lynn, following Jen and the firefighters at a discreet distance, stared. Geez, could the situation get any more screwy? Her cell phone —a loaner from the Herald— rang, earning her glares from all around. She grabbed it from the backpack and stabbed the button. “I can’t—”
Hernandez bellowed in her ear. “Where are you?”
Lynn bit her lip. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Holding the phone to her ear, she stepped further away from the others. “At the Tavistock ranch.”
“Great, we definitely want this story.”
“Got it.” She clicked off and slipped into the shadows of the ancient oak grove surrounding the property. Lynn packed away the phone, then shouldered the backpack. She took a deep breath and broke into a run. Zigzagging from one dark, warped trunk to another, she circled toward the back of the house.
Lynn breathed in the musty smell of dew-soaked earth and rotting leaves, edged with the sharp scent of the new fire. A tremor raced along her spine as she crept through the patchwork of moonlight and darkness. The wood smoke clouded her thoughts, stirring the dragon into a frenzy. Keeping her eyes on the distant glow flickering among the trees, she crept closer.
A whisper of movement from behind rooted her to the spot. Was someone following her? Jack? The hair on her arms and neck stood to attention— in warning. She dropped to the ground, into the dark embrace of a cedar bush and willed herself invisible. Lynn crouched still, barely breathing, and waited.
Minutes ticked by. Her muscles cramped. She craned her neck and looked this way and that. Nothing moved. No one there. Then an armadillo scurried through the leaves inches from her hands. Lynn swallowed her scream and released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
The cool air carried the arson investigator’s voice. “Amos, your house is burning down. We are here to help.”
Tavistock’s answer followed, weighed down with a sad finality. “It’s my property and my responsibility. I tried to put it out and couldn’t. I guess I’ll go out with it.”
Lynn cringed. Tavistock stood to lose everything he owned and worked for because of her. No, because a crazy dragon had fixated on her. Either way, she seemed to be at the root of the problem. Her stomach knotted in guilt. She had to do something. She straightened and moved forward.
After a moment’s silence, Anderson spoke again. “Amos, did you set fire to your house?”
“No! My ranch and the house is all I have, I wouldn’t destroy it,” Tavistock’s voice cracked.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” the fire chief chimed in. “We can put out the fire and try to save your house.”
Another gunshot ricocheted in the quiet of the early morning. “I don’t want to shoot anybody,” Tavistock said. “But I don’t want you all trespassing either.”
Lynn stopped at the iron fence and gate separating the backyard from the grove and stared at the blazing house. Hungry flames poured out of windows and cracks, licking the air, beckoning to her. The dragon lunged inside, wanting out. Wiping her hands on her jeans, Lynn grasped the cold metal bars and climbed up and over the gate. She dropped to the dirt and ran toward the house, stopping inches from it as the radiating heat beat against her.
Invisible or not, her human form didn’t come in asbestos. Sighing she squinted at the backdoor through the roaring flames. So near, yet so far. She closed her eyes and willed the dragon.
The fluid shift and stretch of bones, muscles and mass zinged through her, took her breath away. A warm, caressing heat lapped at her core and spread. Scales rippled across her skin. Twin billows of steam whooshed out of her nostrils. Ready or not, here I come.
Lynn lumbered forward, crashing through the door. She stopped at the threshold of the smoke-filled living area and adjoining kitchen, and swiveled her head from side to side but couldn’t spot the rancher.
“Into your hands I commend my body and my soul, amen.” The words floated out of a darkened doorway.
Lynn sniffed at the air. The smell of smoke, age and dust tickled her nostril. Taking a deep breath, she shifted back into human form and hurried toward the opening. Good, her invisibility still held. She found the rancher
and Elsie seated on the bed, his bald head touched her silver one. Lynn squared her shoulders and approached the couple.
“Are you sure about this Elsie?” Tavistock whispered.
Tears streamed down wrinkled cheeks. An unspoken thought wafted into the room. How long can you live on the edges of life? You’re nothing but an empty shell of the woman you were.
What the hell? Dragon mindspeak. Lynn tiptoed closer and glanced at the figures. Were either of them dragon or part dragon?
End it. End it now.
“Yes, this is what I want.” Elsie said. “But you should get out.”
No, no. He needs to stay. He’s your soul mate.
“You know I’d never leave you,” Tavistock answered. A sob broke from Elsie as she slumped against her husband.
Holy Sh— Lynn bit her tongue and glanced around the room. The whispers came from someone else. Was he inside and invisible like her? The rogue dragon? She turned and looked behind. Fat fingers of fire appeared at the door. Heat and smoke poured in. Must save one insane couple now. When she turned back, Elsie lolled in Amos’ arms, passed out.
“Amos,” she called in a half-whisper.
The gray head jerked and jumped, as he searched the room. “Who?”
“Amos, you need to get out, you need to save Elsie.”
“Who are you?”
“Your guardian angel.” Never in a million years had she envisioned using her invisibility to play an angel. Obaa-chan must be rolling in her grave and laughing her ass off.
The man slumped across the still form in the bed. Lynn rushed to him and shook him. “Amos?” No response. Coughing, she searched and found their pulse. Amos and Elsie Tavistock were out cold. Great. She glanced at the door. The fire was spreading into the room. No time for subtleties. She rolled the couple up in the bed cover, leaving an opening for their heads for them to breath, tied a knot to keep it from coming undone. Then dragged the bodies to the floor. Would the other dragon try to stop her? She’d deal with him when she had to.
Once again she willed herself to change. This time the transformation came slower. Weariness weighed her limbs down. Damn, she’d have to sleep for a month to recover. Grabbing a mouthful of the covers between her teeth, she stumbled backwards and dragged the Tavistocks out of the room feet first. She figured the closer their heads stayed to the ground, the better.
She came up against a wall and pushed back. With a groan the wall crumbled and crashed at her feet. The movement of air caused the fire to flare brighter, creating a wall of flames between her and safety.
Her energy wavered, then surged again. Horror filled her as her invisibility fell away and revealed iridescent blue-green scales reflecting the fire’s glow. Fortunately, her form blinked out just as quick. Shit. She’d overdone the changes. How much longer would she be able to hide? Would she have enough energy to change back to human form before she faced the others? No matter, she had more important concerns right now.
Lynn’s gaze fell to the inert forms lying lumped together and hidden by the covers. A memory of her grandmother lying so still on the warehouse floor careened through her head. She whooshed out another breath and adjusted her hold. Whatever happened, she had to save Amos and Elsie. Then fanning out her wings to create a barrier between the Tavistocks and the flames, Lynn pulled them through the fire.
Her energy flickered again, making her stumble. A dizzying rush of cold wrapped around her as she fell to the ground in a tumble of bodies and limbs. Moaning, she curled up in the dirt, inches from a pair of black boots. Then darkness swallowed her.
Lynn came to surrounded by paramedics. “Where?”
“Lay still ma’am,” said one, checking her pulse. A soft squeeze of her hand made her turn and find Jen standing next to her.
Soft, heart-breaking sobs from her right made her turn her head again. She hissed as a sharp pain lanced through her. Her eyes found Amos leaning against an ambulance.
Anderson let out a breath and placed an arm around the man’s shaking shoulders. “Crazy old coot,” he muttered as he took Tavistock off the firefighters’ hands. Jack came and stood on the other side of Tavistock and put a firm hold on the man as well. Lynn heard him trying to calm the old man down.
Gingerly, she sat up, leaned against Jen for a long while until the world stopped swimming.
“Maybe you should rest for a bit longer,” Jen whispered.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just help me up.”
Jen braced Lynn as she stood, supported her weight as she took her first steps. “You’re lucky I followed your ass and found you, dressed you, and called for help.”
Lynn glanced down at herself. Old sweat pants, a soft sweater and slip-on canvas shoes from the backpack. Her gaze shifted to Jen’s familiar black boots. “Thanks.”
They stumbled to the crowd, pushed through. A grim-looking emergency medical tech jogged up to Anderson and the chief. “Elsie didn’t make it.”
A wave of sadness rippled through Lynn and her throat tightened. She almost sobbed out loud. She’d failed, failed again.
“Dang sad,” the chief muttered. “She die in the fire?”
The EMT shrugged. “The fire I’m sure contributed.”
Finally, Anderson cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll let the JP and ME figure out the cause of death,” he said.
He pulled out a cell phone and called the Justice of Peace on duty to come and perform coroner duties. “The medical examiner needs to be notified and we’ll need to get the body to him,” he said into the phone. Then he called the Sheriff’s department and asked them to send a detective from the Criminal Investigations Division and someone from the Crisis Intervention Unit to deal with Tavistock.
Lynn huddled next to Jen. Even though the fire had been put out and the immediate danger had passed, grief weighed her down. She glanced at Jack, standing next to Tavistock like a bodyguard.
His gaze collided with hers. Was he responsible for Elsie’s death? Confusion and anger drifted into her soul as he held her attention. When he blinked and looked away, she swallowed. Had the arsonist followed her too? How much had he seen? Was Jack the crazy rogue? The rogue had killed Elsie, and almost killed Tavistock. Her guts fisted. She needed to talk with Jack.
As the Paradise Valley VFD vehicles pulled out, two other sheriff’s department cars, an ambulance, a station wagon and a green Chevy suburban arrived on the scene.
“What’s going on?”
Jen nodded at the new vehicles and identified everybody for her: the Criminal Investigations detective, the Crisis Intervention Unit volunteer, emergency medical technicians, the JP and the body transporter, respectively.
“They are going to transport the body in a suburban?” Lynn asked. “Don’t they have to use an ambulance or a hearse?”
Jen shook her head. “Anything that can fit a body will do,” she said. “And the transporter the county contracts with happens to drive a suburban.”
Lynn watched in silence as the techs loaded a black body bag into the suburban.
Tavistock let out an anguished cry. “No, Elsie! Elsie! Don’t take my Elsie away!” he cried. The old man leapt forward, his thin body wracked by heaving sobs.
Gritting his teeth, Jack grabbed the old rancher in an awkward one-armed hug and forced him away from the body and the smoking house. The crisis intervention officer, a soft, round-faced woman, stepped forward and helped lead Tavistock back to the ambulance. One of the EMTs stepped forward and handed Jack a blanket. He wrapped it around the sobbing man. “Oh, Amos, Amos,” he said.
The EMTs took over. They’d give Tavistock something to calm down. Jack and the CIU volunteer stepped away from the ambulance.
“Well, he’s going to the West Texas Regional Hospital right now, but after the next few days…I need to call around to the Salvation Army and other places,” she sighed. “He’ll need a place to stay temporarily. Too bad he doesn’t have any family.”
Jack looked back at the lost old man surrounded by
busy med techs. “Well, he’s got friends,” he said. “I have got room at my house. He’s more than welcome to stay, if that’s okay with y’all. And I’ll look into nursing homes.”
The CIU volunteer looked visibly relieved. “That’s mighty good of you.”
Jack nodded and mentally added, for a Callaghan. Shame pinched him. The woman hadn’t said that. Stop imagining more trouble than there already exists. He touched the brim of his hat in goodbye and turned away.
A yawn escaped him as he flexed and stretched his aching muscles. Damn, he was tired. He looked around and caught Lynn watching him. A tightness gripped his chest. Lynn. Emotions surged through him. His heart had almost stopped when he’d heard Jen screaming for help, seen Lynn and Amos lying so still on the ground, near Elsie wrapped up in bed covers. What the hell had she been thinking? Putting herself in danger like that was irresponsible. Amazing. Incredibly stupid. So very brave. A need to touch her, reassure himself she was okay, overwhelmed him. Damn, he should walk away. Instead he stalked toward her.
Danger. The dragon inside Lynn coiled and tensed. The fury shading Jack’s face made her want to fight or flee, but instead she stood her ground and waited. Good, she wouldn’t have to chase him down.
He stopped in front of her, glowering. “What the hell were you thinking going into that burning building?”
“You guys were thinking and arguing, I decided to do something,” Lynn said. Wait a wasabi second. She should be the one asking questions.
“We might have had to rescue three people instead of two,” Jack said. His voice shook with rage, and…she almost thought worry.
“Well, you didn’t,” Lynn shot back. “In fact, you guys didn’t need to rescue anybody thanks to me.” God, she sounded like a self-important brat. The man threw her off her game.
“You could have been hurt. You could have died in there and no one would have known.” His voice cracked.
Did he really care? This was too weird. She looked away, then back. Her eyes met Jack’s anguished ones. “How could this happen?”
