Flames to Free (Dred Dixon Chronicles Book 1)

by N. A. Grotepas

Hank stopped beside me. I swear I could feel the surprise and the questions burning inside him. They rolled off him like a fire of curiosity.

  She was the oracle llama of Gingerbread. Not too surprising if a person knew their lore about oracles.

  The citizens of Gingerbread took care of her and guarded her. At the moment, there were two sentry elves standing on either side of her. They stared straight ahead, but they were ready to defend the oracle llama if it came to that.

  It wouldn’t come to that.

  I placed an offering on the altar—a gold coin I kept just for such circumstances. It was imprinted with the Flamehearts logo and it was for use in such circumstances as this. I cleared my throat and let out a breath, then spoke with a strong voice. “Oracle, what do I need to know regarding current disturbances among demons and dragons?”

  The llama chewed her straw, her long eyelashes still focused in my direction. I’d been forming the question on the walk up the hill, trying to figure out the best way to ask. Did I ask about the “utopia” or did I ask about the dragon?

  Grygg’s “help” hadn’t really helped much. It only muddied the water and reduced my clarity on the topic.

  After what felt like an eternity, but which was likely only a minute, maybe two, the oracle shuffled over to one of the many wooden signs attached to the fence that surrounded her pen.

  She looked at me, then looked back at the signs. She appeared to study them for a moment, then she touched a few with her snout.

  After that she executed what seemed to be a bow, and then sauntered lazily to her trough and nosily drank from it.

  “Was that for real?” Hank whispered.

  I was still trying to make sense of the signs she’d pointed to. One sign usually meant danger. The other sign usually meant concealed plans. And the other was known to be connected to fire, but not in any helpful way that I could discern on the fly.

  I sighed and left another offering on the altar in front of her pen, this time it was an apple I’d gotten when I bought the tea.

  “Come on,” I said softly to Hank, and led the way back out of the oracle llama’s home.

  17

  “Not much to go on. But it was worth a shot, I’d say.” I sounded chipper as we headed back in the direction of the Karmann Ghia.

  “Worth a gold coin? Dred, do you realize that gold coin was worth somewhere in the range of six hundred dollars, I mean, depending on what it was? And you just threw it at a llama living in a church?” He was silent for a moment. “It was real, wasn’t it?”

  I laughed. “No. I love to tempt Fate and donate fake gold coins to gods and oracles. Gold and silver. That’s what they accept.” I laughed again, imagining how stupid I’d need to be to use a fake coin as an offering. “You know that animals have often been oracles, right?”

  “What like—” he hesitated. I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. “—no, can’t think of a single oracular animal. I’m sure they exist. But who keeps that kind of information stored in their head?”

  “Groundhog’s Day, that’s an animal that predicts the future. And there have been animals that do it throughout the ages. Greta the llama is Gingerbread’s.”

  “I’d understand a ram or something, with the Bavarian influences here. I don’t get the llama. It’s a South American animal.”

  “That’s what you’re hung up on?”

  He sipped on his iced tea and nothing came out. “Damn, my tea is all gone. Dred we need to get another before we leave.” And just like that, he’d moved on from Greta, the oracle.

  I sighed. “Sure, grab another tea, Hank.”

  The day was waning and I felt slightly disappointed that the oracle had really only told me things I already knew. But, that wasn’t unusual. I’d just made the mistake of letting myself hope for more.

  We stopped at the vendor and Hank got another iced tea, while my head got lost in puzzling out if there was more I could get out of the reading. I was barely paying attention to Hank and what he was saying to the vendor. Finally we continued on, winding our way back down through the village.

  As we passed Grygg’s Fine Cheeses, I poked my head inside and pointed directly at Vivian, who looked up in surprise. She stood on the far side of the small shop, arranging a new display of aged cheddars.

  “Remember,” I said, “we’ll be back to get you.”

  She flipped me off, a gesture that I returned with a sarcastic smirk. At least, I hoped the teen realized it was a sarcastic smirk and not a friendly smile. Ingrate.

  In no time we were back on the highway, following it through the winding canyon that skirted a clear river.

  “So, you got any insight into what the oracle said?” Hank asked, an indulgent moan punctuating his question as he sipped the iced tea.

  I closed my eyes and took a breath. “Never again, Hank. Never again with that stupid tea.”

  “Sorry. But,” he said, with a grin, “I know you love hearing how much I’m enjoying it.”

  If he only knew. “No, I don’t, actually. It’s a very distracting sound. I don’t want to know how you sound during Hank’s special time.”

  “An oracle llama. Who would have imagined it?” he mused, changing the subject.

  “It was a waste of time. Greta didn’t tell us a single new thing. Can you drive faster? We still have almost an hour to go to get to the sanctuary. And then we’ll need to drive back north.”

  The car hummed as he sped up. “And you also want to grab the girl, remember? That could tack on another thirty minutes. Or at least we’ve promised to get her.”

  “Yeah, what was I thinking? Not that she’d be disappointed if we didn’t show up to kidnap her.”

  “I doubt she would. But we can’t leave her there with that dwarf. He made my skin crawl.” Hank loudly sipped the last of his tea, then popped off the lid and began crunching the ice.

  Oh great. His moans were preferable to the obnoxious sound of someone crunching ice. I put it out of my head.

  “First time?” I watched the scenery. The canyon was one of my favorite drives in the state. The way was familiar and the sights a comfort—I’d spent my youth driving this way. My grandmother’s home was near the dragon sanctuary—not that I’d known about it, for the longest time.

  “First time—er, what?”

  “First time a dwarf made your skin crawl?”

  “Not at all—I’ve had many opportunities to have my skin crawl around dwarves. When they’re standard, they’re standard. But when they’re off? They’re incredibly off. Very out there—worse than your average offness. But,” he held up a finger, “that’s the first time I’ve met one with a human slave.”

  A slave? Where had he gotten that? Was Hank being a perv? “You think she’s a slave? That’s a pervy thing to insinuate.” Calling it like I saw it and for that I expected a big reaction.

  Hank snorted. “Nah, come on, just goofing. Grygg’s not that evil. He’s too much of an elitist snob to really be evil, evil. He just likes money and being unique. Probably. But I’m for sure not leaving her there. She’s too young.”

  “If I thought Grygg was being a perv, I’d end him. Right there. Not sure I’d wait for proof.” My blood boiled at the faintest hint of an idea like that. “But, I’m not sure. I wasn’t thinking we’d force her to reunite with family. Is that where you’re taking this idea?”

  “Maybe. I’m still sorting out the details. We could make a deal with her.” He cocked his head at me. “A deal? What do you think, Dred?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. I think I might have one she’d like.”

  Hank was silent for a bit. We came to the ranch that Grygg had mentioned, Willie Nelson’s former ranch retreat. A circle of stones had been erected, like a mini Stone Henge, on the hillock above the ranch.

  “I’ll be damned,” Hank said, leaning across me to look out the window.

  The musk of his cologne or deodorant or fabric softener wafted up into my face. The smell sent my thoughts run
ning wild.

  Wait.

  This couldn’t happen.

  This? What this did I mean?

  An innocent question, with a not innocent answer. Nooooo, not at all. There was no innocence as the claws of sex pried their way into my brain, into my guts, as every thing that screamed of other, of male, of you want to possess this piece of ass swirled like spirits through my brain. It was tantalizing. I felt my knees melt as the pang of want surged through that general area. I groaned inwardly, this couldn’t happen.

  I knew enough about desire and biology to realize that there was something inescapable about the situation—if Hank smelled so damn good to me, and all he had to do was be near me for my senses to turn on like that—the idea was, he was a prime genetic match for me.

  But this was not a prime moment for me to want him. He was my partner. I couldn’t feel this for him. It would cloud my judgment.

  Everything in me was on high alert. He was still sprawled across my lap, gazing up at the circle of stones that Willie Nelson had likely had erected as he retired to his ranch to wait out the “older years.” I suspected the ancient druid had done this many times across the world, waiting till he could emerge once more into the limelight, looking like he’d not aged a single day. An easy task since he’d probably looked quite aged for hundreds of years.

  Or maybe he had a rejuvenation spell or something.

  In any case. Hank was so close, I could see the tiny fuzz on his ear. The curve of his jaw, the black five o’clock shadow just beginning to emerge, his hand touched my leg and chills shot through me as I felt the warmth through my jeans. I might have gasped at the sensation, I don’t know. It all happened so fast, and I was suddenly angry that the urge to nibble his damn ear kicked against my resistance.

  I would do no such thing!

  I shoved him off me.

  “What’s your deal?” I asked, pushing the reaction onto him. “Personal space, Hank.”

  “He really is a druid? Willie Nelson. Well, shit, Dred. How’d I miss that? Sorry. Didn’t mean to crush you,” he soothed, looking back out the windshield at the two-lane highway.

  Yeah right, he didn’t mean to crush me. Not buying it. But whatever.

  I sighed. “He disguises it really well with his hippie-cowboy-marijuana-obsession. Probably has a rejuvenation spell he uses on himself from time to time.”

  “Hm. Very interesting. I really had no idea. Hadn’t suspected that at all. His disguise is working, I guess.”

  “Don’t ever lean on me again or I’ll use a stasis spell on your damn junk,” I said.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Test me. Let’s find out.” Please don’t test me. I was already weakened and might tear his clothes off, but I had no qualms about using a spell on his junk.

  The problem was, I still hadn’t learned a stasis spell.

  He didn’t answer and we both were silent for a few moments. I wondered what he was thinking, but also didn’t care. I was a mess inside, simultaneously wanting him to climb back onto my lap and wanting to punish him for flicking whatever switch he’d just hit inside me.

  And I didn’t mean “punish” in a good way. Although, for all I knew, he was into that.

  Was he into that?

  Damn him.

  The mess in me was growing as a thousand thoughts and feelings skittered around my head and my guts like butterflies in a storm.

  In my experience, there was no going back once you’d been lit up by someone in that way. It would always be there now, watching me from the corners of my mind, snickering at me when he got too close or he said something that could have a double-meaning. This now meant that I’d always be acting.

  No. I had to be strong. I could squash this bullshit. It would just take a bit of effort. I took a breath, returned to the present moment, and got out of my head.

  I was pretty certain he was giving me a sidelong glance through his aviator sunglasses.

  “So, anyway,” I began, clearing my throat, pushing all thought away. Time to just do, time to not think. “I’m not sure what the oracle meant, at least not anything concrete. What I think it means is that something’s going on with fire elemental types.”

  “That stands to reason. Not exactly earth-shattering is it? The dragon is fire. The demon too. Assuming the demon also disappeared and didn’t just hide from us.”

  He was right. It bothered me that we hadn’t seen the demon get taken, the way we’d seen the young dragon taken.

  It backed up what my instinct had been, to take Blue to the sanctuary, to keep her safe till she had her baby. The last thing I wanted was to see more supernaturals disappear because I wasn’t taking the necessary precautions to protect them.

  From what, I still wasn’t certain. But whatever it was, the oracle claimed it was dangerous. And that, for now, was enough for me to feel that my instincts were correct.

  Soon we’d climbed the final ascent in the mountains and were gazing down into the valley beneath Horseshoe mountain. The glacier carved horseshoe at the peak towered in blue and gray above the vast valley between the Wasatch Plateau and the San Pitch mountains.

  Hank whistled. “Ok, that’s kind of gorgeous. I’ll give your state that. It’s no New York City, but that’s a sight.”

  I snorted. “You’re too kind.”

  “I know.” Suddenly Hank pulled off the road. “Damn, Dred. I gotta stop. Emergency.”

  He killed the engine on the shoulder of the highway and leapt out of the car, racing to the crumbling edge of blacktop and trotted down over the sagebrush and scrub. He halted and I watched as his back broadcast that he was relieving himself into the brush.

  What a moment to know he’d whipped it out—just after my stupid base instincts had been lit up by him. I will not wonder what it looks like. I will not wonder how big it is. I will not fixate on this. I do not care that he has a dick. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a eunuch.

  Damn.

  I was fixating. I couldn’t even chant to push it out of my mind, because all it did was make me think about it.

  I stared at his shoulders. He threw his head back and presumably sighed in relief.

  My stomach coiled. Damn him.

  I was more annoyed than I’d ever been with him right then. Who did he think he was? Where did he get off, getting so close to me that I’d struggle to resist him?

  I pushed thoughts of his body and how it would feel against mine out of my mind, curious as hell about him. My whole body was hot. I had to get this under control.

  I’d been here before. I could handle this. That, or I’d have to find a new partner.

  He finished, tucked himself away judging from how he moved (again, not thinking about it!), and turned and patted his hands off, smiling at me like he’d really just owned the world with his amazing ability to urinate all over the landscape. I rolled my eyes as he returned to the car.

  Men.

  “So Dred, you didn’t tell me that that tea went straight through.”

  “Yes, make your weakness to that tea my fault. Very noble. Very chivalrous. It’s caffeinated liquid. What did you expect?”

  “Don’t know. Thought it might hang out in my belly a while.”

  “Nope. That’s the nectar of the gods for you—passes right through humans like all liquids.”

  18

  Blue was already unloaded when we reached Dragon’s Mercy Sanctuary, and the head docent of the preserve escorted us to the edge of the enclosure, then left us there to resume her duties.

  The spells that Bianca and Cristian had done were fading, which had been intentional. They’d set a time limit on them so they weren’t required to be there to release them.

  The dragon appeared to be aware that this was happening. Her blue eye watched me, holding my gaze fast. There was betrayal in there, I swore it. I shifted, feeling the weight of that accusation. Hank seemed to sense my discomfort.

  “She’s looking right at you, Dred. You sure you want to be standing right
here when those spells wear off?”

  Of course I wasn’t sure. “Yep. We need to establish trust.”

  He laughed. “Not to laugh, like I just did, but what are you thinking, Dred?”

  “There’s something going on, we know that much, Hank. So, my instincts say, if I can build a rapport with this dragon, maybe it’ll lead us somewhere. Where? I don’t know.”

  “Hey Dred,” James said, coming to stand beside me at the wooden fence.

  Blue’s wings stirred, kicking up a cloud of dirt, which the hot breeze spun into a tiny dust devil.

  James sighed. “What a beaut. I just love it when I get to work with dragons. I prefer it to relocating other large supernatural creatures. Well, she’ll be good here, for now, I think. Been a pleasure working on this one, but I’ve got to get the chopper back up to the city. Need anything else?”

  James only knew a few details about what was going on with Blue—he subcontracted with the guild and so we kept the information he had at a minimum, based on need-to-know grounds.

  “Nope. If I need you again, I’ll have Dorothy get you. Thanks again, James,” I said, leaning against the chest high fence.

  He left and I resumed my contemplation of Blue and what she was experiencing, trying to sort through what I thought about what we’d witnessed so far. Hank remained beside me, also lost in thought.

  From where we stood, I saw at least two other dragons—a magenta beast and a gorgeous cyan creature with scales that rippled in color as the sun hit them at various angles. One was limping around the pasture. The other was perched on a low stand, one wing in a massive splint.

  The boundary of the preserve itself extended up the mountain all the way to peak, while an invisible shield kept the dragons penned in and protected them from predators.

  Not that dragons had natural predators.

  Except humans, like the bastard we’d seen up on Hidden Peak.

  The roar of the chopper starting up drowned out any hope for conversation. The sound startled Blue. God, I hoped the stress of the situation didn’t harm her baby. The thought aroused my irritation again at the bastard who’d been meddling in the affairs of the dragons. He was to blame, whoever he was. I hated to feel it necessary to pin that on someone, but what would Blue be doing right now if that mysterious figure hadn’t intervened in her nest?