Chapter Twenty-One

Lindsey

"You bitch!"

I pushed away from my desk, dropped my shoulder and rolled out of my chair. Bethany's swipe at my head with a metal object in her fist missed me by millimeters. On the floor, on my back, I looked up. "Stop it, Bethany."

"No way," she hissed between her teeth. "You murdered Frank."

"He tried to kill me! He shot me, then himself, you stupid twat."

I slowly rose to my feet as Bethany reversed the gun, pointing the business end at my face. The question of what she'd done to get past Brody flickered through my mind, then I pushed the worry away. She couldn't have shot him. If I didn't do something to stop this asinine idiot, we're both dead.

"You pulled the trigger," she screamed, her brown eyes narrowed with hate and madness. "You murdered him."

Keep her talking. "How stupid is that?" I snarled. "You know he abused me, then shot me. Murder-suicide, even the cops knew what he'd done."

"You lied to the cops," she gritted, pacing slowly around me, circling. "You lied to me. Frank loved you."

I stepped back, reaching behind me for the stack of boxes as though needing the support. Bethany's eyes didn't flicker toward my hands, only stared into mine. I gripped a coffee mug I'd set there earlier and forgot about, then bared my teeth in a fierce grimace of defiance.

"What did you say?"

"Frank lo –"

Like a pitcher at Yankee Stadium, I threw the mug in a powerful overhand throw. It bounced off her left cheek. Her finger pulled the trigger. The bullet plowed into the wall behind me inches to my right. Bethany staggered backward, falling to her ass. The gun went off again.

Now or never.

I leaped past her, out of the room and to Brody. Frantic, my heart thudding in my chest, I felt for a pulse at his throat even as Bethany shrieked in rage and pain from within the office. I found it, saw the lump on his brow, the bruising and fresh swelling. Out cold but alive. She didn't kill him.

"Catch me if you can, bitch," I screamed, laughing, then bolted for the front door.

I heard her yells as I fumbled for the lock, twisted it, turned the knob. Terrified she'd shoot me in the head, I lunged through the door. Ducking my shoulders, I ran down the walk and to the street. She fired, but the bullet pinged off the asphalt several feet to my right. Cool, get the cops here. Annoy the neighbors.

At this hour, few lights were on. Still, as Bethany shot at me again, lights appeared in windows all over the street. I ran fast, shielded by the night, the darkness, listening to her screech in rage, the pounding of her sneakers behind me. The hardest target to hit was one that moved, and I made damn sure to never let her catch a firm sight of me.

"I'll kill you!"

For answer, I laughed and shouted over my shoulder, "C'mon, bitch, move your fat ass."

The park lay straight ahead. A few lights cast some illumination over the grass, the swing sets, the walking/running trail. I saw no one out for late night exercise, helping me to believe no one else would get hurt this evening. Only Bethany.

I'll have my revenge.

Reaching a pool of light under a tall lamp, I halted, spinning to face her. I curled my lip in a snarl as she, too, slowed, aiming her gun at my face.

"You'll wish you'd have left me alone, bitch," I said.

"You'll be too dead to see it."

Her eyes narrowed. Her finger flexed on the trigger. I heard the creak of her joint in the utter stillness.

I shifted.

The bullet pinged off my scales, ricocheting with a sharp whine into the night.

From three stories up, I stared down at Bethany. I flared my wings and cast her into blackness. Lifting my right talons, I flexed them into a fist. "Go ahead, bitch. Make my day."

Bethany screamed, a high-pitched shriek that surely my neighbors heard. She fired off several rounds in a blind effort to kill me. Of course, each bullet pinged off my scales, and I wasn't harmed in the least. In the distance, sirens announced the arrival of the cops. I didn't have much time. She spun around, perhaps thinking she could outrun me.

I seized her around her shoulders and waist. Lifting her as easily as I lifted a glass, I brought her up to my muzzle, making her stare deep into my eyes. Tears of terror, or horror, ran down her ghostly cheeks to drip into her opened mouth.

"Are you believing now, Beth?" I inquired. "Maybe wishing you'd stayed home?"

For answer she screamed again.

"I guess you're not a dragon."

I leaped for the sky, beating my wings, leaving the park, the neighborhood far behind. Effortlessly, I climbed high, gained altitude with every wing stroke, Bethany's hair streaming in the wind of my creation. Her lungs worked well, however, as she screamed, cried, babbled words I couldn't understand.

"Like to fly, honey?" I asked. "Take a look around. Do. The ground is very far away, isn't it?"

She shrieked in answer.

"You know how much I like to dive, Beth? I really, really like diving. Straight to the ground. Let's go for it, what do you say?"

Folding my wings, I dove. Faster and faster, the wind whipping her breathless screams away, I held her straight out in front on me, letting her see the ground rushing up to meet us. Low over the approaching homes, I snapped my wings out, soaring mere yards over the rooftops.

"That was fun," I cried, banking upward, my wings stroking hard. "Wanna do it again?"

I beat my wings to gain altitude, climbing toward the stars, the city lights mere twinkles in the distance. In my grip, Bethany choked, her body heaving. Lifting her toward my muzzle, I eyed her with worry.

"You okay?"

A second later, Bethany vomited. The nasty, wet mess coated my talons, dripped down to fall through the empty space. She heaved over and over until she spit only bile.

"Okay, now that's just wrong," I snapped, putting her in my left hand in order to shake the puke from my talons. "Would I hurl on you?"

Gasping for breath, Bethany collapsed, her head drooping on her neck.

"Don't faint on me, girl," I said. "You gotta see what other talents I have."

Her hair in her face, her skin so pale I wondered if I'd done her serious harm, she looked up. "What?"

"This."

Turning my head, I blew a sharp gust of flame. Bethany screamed, tearing at her head and face with her nails. "No, no, no, no, no," she cried, sobbing, pounding her fist against my claw. "No, oh my God, stop, please, please, Lindsey."

"Now that's what I like to hear," I commented. "You begging."

"I'll beg, I'll do anything you want, I swear to God. I'll go away, I'll never bother you again, please don't kill me, please, please."

"What are we?" I asked, my tone conversational. "Ten thousand feet up? Were I to open my fist, you'd fall all that long way. Terminal velocity, kiddo. Folks would scrape you up with a spoon."

"No, please!" Bethany flung her head back and screamed.

"Will you quit that," I snapped. "You can't hear me talk if you're screaming."

She gasped for breath, weeping, sobbing, her voice low as she pleaded for her life.

"Hear this, Beth," I growled. "If I were to flame you right now, no one would find anything at all. Not even your ashes. I'll let you live. I won't kill you. Now . But if you ever come back, your life is mine. You'll disappear from the face of this earth. Do you hear me?"

"Yes." Bethany sobbed. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me, don't kill me, please."

"Oh, shut up. I said I wouldn't. Just remember this whenever you're tempted to get revenge for your asshole brother. I'm a dragon. So is Brody. Get froggy again and the last thing you'll see is my flames."

Bethany shut up. She closed her eyes as I descended toward the park far below. Her breath hitched in sobs, and I almost felt sorry for her. Almost . If she'd had her way, I'd be dead now. Or running. Still, had she not stalked me, I'd never have met Brody. My fate. My love.

I landed on the grass where I'd taken off just a short time ago. I set Bethany down, and watched her collapse, crying, her face buried in the turf. Shifting back to two legs, I nudged her with my toe.

"Look at me."

Her skin deathly pale, yet bright crimson where she'd been weeping, she turned her face upward to stare up with wet eyes.

"Remember what I am. And no one would believe you if you said you met a dragon."

With that, I turned and left her.

***

I pressed an ice pack against Body's lump, now turning a violent purple shade, and sat next to him. He offered me a wan smile, then held the cold pack as he leaned both elbows on the kitchen table. In my absence, Skinner helped himself to my coffee. He drank it while leaning against the counter.

"Did you kill her?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No."

"So where is she?"

Probably still lying in the park, too scared to move. "Look, dude, she chased me. I stopped, hit her a couple of times. Then she took off."

"So where's her gun?" He sipped, his keen gaze sharp on my face, no doubt sensing my lie.

"I didn't see it."

"Officers say they heard gunshots coming from down that way." He gestured toward the park. "Did she shoot at you?"

"No. I popped her in the nose, smacked her, she got to crying." That much is true. "I left her and came here."

"So where is she?"

"Probably on her way back to California." I glowered. "You might alert the state patrols to watch for her. She stole a car, didn't she?"

"So we suspect."

Brody's free hand stroked my thigh in support. "Did you send cops to search the park?" he asked.

"They're there now." Skinner's gaze didn't leave my face. "Tell me the truth, Lindsey."

"I did." I wish I was a better liar. And didn't have to lie to him. He's a good guy.

"You told me some of the truth," he replied. "Not all."

"That's all I can say, Skinner," I said. "I scared the crap out of Bethany, then left her. I didn't want to kill her, not if there was another way."

"Why didn't you hold her for us?"

"It's between Bethany and me."

"Ah."

He sipped his coffee, watching my face over the rim. He only took that fierce stare from me when a pair of cops entered my kitchen. One had a gun, carried it by its trigger guard with a pen.

"We found this, Detective," the officer said. "In the park down the street. No one else."

"Shell casings?"

"Kent is bringing all we could find."

Skinner took the pen, examining the gun. "Get a search going. Look in every nook and cranny for Bethany Byrd. She may be driving a stolen blue Honda Civic."

"Yes, sir."

The officers left. Skinner continued to stare at me. "And when we find Ms. Byrd," he said, "what condition will we find her in?"

I frowned. "What do you mean? I didn't kill her."

"Somehow I think you did more than scare her, Lindsey. I think you did something to her that would ensure she'd never bother you again."

I shrugged. "If a bop on the nose did that, I should have punched her a long time ago."