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comfortable. Then he had asked Sophie questions about the clinic and her love of

animals. He had even seemed genuinely interested.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 10

She glanced at her wrist watch. It was nearly nine o‟clock, but she wanted to stop

by the clinic and check on an older dog they were boarding. It would only take a few

minutes and then she could head home. As she exited off I-30 a brilliant flash filled the air. Lightening? There hadn‟t been any thunderstorms forecast. And the night was clear, or at least as much as she could make out with all the city lights.

Traveling north and away from the heavy traffic of the interstate, Sophie became

aware of an odd, reddish glow that seemed to linger in the air. He r first thought was fire, or perhaps a crash at the DFW airport, but the brilliance seemed to be hovering high

above her rather than along the ground.

Still pondering, she turned down a side street and parked the truck in front of a

modest brick house that had been converted into the veterinarian clinic. It sat on a full acre of land with a fenced, grassy yard for shelter animals to walk in. Sophie took a

moment to appreciate the relative peace and quiet in this older neighborhood. She let a large SUV drive past and then opened the truck door and stepped down.

The odd light was much brighter here and she thought she heard something as

well. A whirring sound and something that sounded like a horse snorting, but Augustin, her Andalusian, was securely in his stall in the small stable. She looked up and then

squinted.

An oblong bright-red object was descending from the sky, an eerie trail of

luminous sparkles of yellow, orange and red blazing behind it. Could it be fuselage from a plane? The airport wasn‟t far away. The thing seemed to be heading toward her though and now it was beginning to look like a dragon! Sophie almost laughed at herself. The

picture of Saint George slaying the dragon must be lingering in her head. As a child, she had loved fanciful stories about dragons, but they didn‟t exist except in myths and

legends.

The smile slipped from her face, though, as the thing came swooping down,

belching fire that scorched her neatly mowed grass. The stench of the smoke assailed her.

Sophie jumped behind her truck. Was it going to land? My God. What was happening?

It slowed its descent and hovered in the air about forty feet over her head. Sophie

blinked. OMG! OMG! It
was
a dragon. For a moment, the world reeled about her as she tried to make sense of what was happening. This was totally illogical, but she could see now that its scales were ruby-red and gold-tipped, almost as though the thing had

been sprayed with lacquer. The beating of the leathery-wings slowed as the dragon

twisted his neck, angling his head, staring at her with cobalt-blue eyes, as if to get a better look at her.
Her
. Dear Lord. Did she look like dinner? She wondered if she should just stand still and pray it would move on like most wild animals would do or if she should

crawl under the truck. But the size of the dragon—its wing-span must be at least fifty

feet and its length thirty—meant that it was a powerful animal. The claws looked strong enough to pick up the truck and toss it.

She tried not to panic. There must be some realistic explanation. Dragons did not

exist. Why did she think one landed in front of her? Was she hallucinating? She hadn‟t had anything to eat or drink since lunch. The evening had been stressful. Maybe she

should go inside and take a short nap…

Before she could decide what to do, though, the dragon snorted again, sending a

flame to sear more of the earth, but somehow missing her truck. Then he flapped his

great wings and rose to disappear into the night sky almost as fast a shooting star.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 11

* * * *

Down the street, sitting in his dark SUV, Adam Baylor watched the scene unfold

and smiled. It had been worth doing the stake-out at the Smith mansion earlier himself

rather than trust his minions who had bungled the job with the spear. Of course, each of them had
personally
paid, screaming in pain and begging for his slow torture to end.

Yes,
that
was at least satisfying—and quite just for their failure to meet his demands.

He had recognized the McCain warlock earlier and decided not to put a tail on

him just yet. The little whore he used, Morgan, was part of a witch‟s coven that McCain belonged to. He wouldn‟t be hard to find. And Baylor
owed
him punishment. The man had interfered and saved the life of the little witch, Sara Kincaid, and cost Baylor an easy swipe at getting the spear.

McCain would die for that. Slowly.

But the woman shielding herself behind her truck was interesting. He had

wondered when she left the mansion if she knew anything about the ancient relics that

both he and the warlock were hunting. She wouldn‟t have any reason to, since the panel

on the side of her truck advertised her veterinary services, but Baylor believed in being thorough, so he had followed her. And a good thing he had.

Someone had released the red dragon.

He never would have thought those pious priestesses of Avalon would have risked

it. So many centuries ago, when Baylor had compelled Vortigern into inviting the

Saxons into Britain on the pretense of helping protect them from invading Picts and

Scottis—and what wonderful, bloody, destructive wars
that
had caused!—the dragon had risen to defend his land. But the Saxon brothers, Hengist and Horsa, had summoned the

white dragon of the North and more chaos had ensued, much to his delight.

Baylor had learned a valuable lesson from that. Dragon temperament could not

be trusted and barely controlled. He had carried a few scars for nearly a hundred years as proof—which made it all the more intriguing why Avalon would choose to release the

red dragon.

The dragon‟s element was fire, which confirmed his suspicion that the next relic

to be found would be the Sword of Fire, Excalibur. Baylor had managed to confiscate a

copy of the original manuscript by killing the old professor who had interpreted it. He‟d made a calculated guess at the order the relics would be revealed: Spear, Sword, Cup, and Dish, for they correlated to the ancient yearly Celtic festivals of Beltane, Lugnasad,

Samhain, and Imbolc. Unfortunately, the manuscript had only given clues to find the

spear.

For the dragon to have singled this woman out, she had to be important. Baylor

would infiltrate her office and keep tabs on her. Of course, he would still rape her raw when this was finished, but he just might let her live, depending on how well she serviced him.

But right now, he had work to do to put everything in place. Baylor heard sirens

approaching. Some concerned citizen probably had called in to report the sighting. He

eased the car into gear and turned the corner just as the first squad car approached.

Awakening the white dragon was high on his list.

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 12

Michael was almost home when a brilliant red flame shot through the night sky.

Meteor? It seemed too close for that but if it were, then it would be crashing into the ground soon. He turned on the police scanner he carried. PD would be receiving all sorts of calls.

The wait wasn‟t long. Seconds later a dispatcher came on. “Man reports seeing a

dragon hovering in the sky.”

He could almost hear the officer‟s laugh. “Dragon?”

“That‟s what he said.” She gave the location. “A red one. Said it was breathing

fire too.”

“Right,” the officer replied. “Dopers must have gotten a really good batch of

high-quality coke in recently.”

“Actually…” the dispatcher hesitated, her voice rising just a little over the regular

monotone, “we‟ve received three more calls.”

“I‟ll check it out. Hope the place isn‟t crawling with media,” the officer

responded.

“Affirmative. Maybe it‟s an advertising gimmick,” she answered.

“Why‟s that?”

“The location is a clinic and no-kill shelter for animals,” dispatch answered.

“Cameron‟s Veterinarian Care.”

Michael slammed on the brakes, made a sharp U-turn and headed for I-30. This

wasn‟t a prank. More importantly, it was a
red
dragon. There was only one red dragon still in existence and it had been slumbering safely on Avalon.

For some reason, the goddess decided to release him. Michael guessed he should

not have been surprised. He was searching for the Sword of Fire and the dragon had a

vested interest in the sword too. But why had the beast singled out Sophie? Michael‟s

warlock senses tingled. Was Sophie the “mystery woman” Nimue had alluded to?

Somehow, she was going to be instrumental in finding the sword. How, he didn‟t know,

but right now, she needed protection.

The Pendragon was back—and he had little use for humans.

* * * *

Sophie had not even reached the door of her clinic when a police cruiser and TV

crews arrived, the reporters tagging as close to the officer as they could get.

He examined the scorch marks on the grass. “What happened here?” he asked.

Sophie took a deep breath and hoped they wouldn‟t cart her off to a mental ward.

“I think…a dragon breathed fire on it. At least, it
looked
like a dragon.”

The officer raised a skeptical brow while the reporters behind him babbled

excitedly.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No.”

“Snorted some coke, lady?”

SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 13

Sophie frowned. “No. No alcohol. No drugs. I‟m a veterinarian.” She pointed

to the sign in the front yard. “I stopped by to check on a dog we‟re boarding. The… the dragon—or whatever it was—hovered over the roof when I stepped out. I can‟t explain

it.”

A barrage of questions came from the reporters and she wanted to put her hands

over her ears to shut them all out. “I don‟t know the answers to your questions! All I know is what looked like a red dragon was in the air. Maybe it was a hologram. Maybe

some technology genius created it.” She turned to one reporter who had whispered

something to her camera man. “And no, I am not crazy!”

“Those scorch marks are real,” a thin, young man said and gave her a reassuring

smile. “I‟m Toby Clark, ma‟am.”

Sophie tried to smile back. He seemed nice and not as aggressive as the other

reporters. Before she could answer though, several of her neighbors from down the road

joined the group.

“We saw the thing too,” one of them said. “I was about to get my shotgun when it

just vanished.”

His wife slanted a look at him. “Like buckshot would take down whatever that

was.”

“Well, an assault rifle would,” a second man said. The officer looked at him and

he stopped talking.

“So what kind of a monster was it?” another woman asked Sophie. “You bring in

some strange critters, but I never saw anything like that.” She looked at the reporters.

“You should hear the sounds that come from here sometimes. It‟s not puppies and kittens she keeps here!”

The reporters turned back to her again in a feeding frenzy. “How did you make it

fly?” one asked.

“Was it a trick? Do you want publicity?” A young woman stuck a microphone in

front of her face. “Maybe donations to your shelter?”

“No, I…”

“I think that‟s enough questions for now.”

Sophie spun around and almost groaned. Michael McCain was elbowing his way

through the growing crowd. Bad enough that her nosy neighbor tried to seek fifteen

seconds of fame by exaggerating her menagerie of assorted animals, and the police

officer probably thought her nuts, but now Michael was here. And Michael definitely

made her feel confused. She didn‟t like the feeling one bit. She was always in control of her emotions. It was easier that way.

“Who are you?” the officer asked, his pen poised above the small notepad he

carried.

“Michael McCain.” He offered his driver‟s license.

The cop looked at it and handed it back. “Why are you here?”

Michael moved closer to Sophie and put his arm around her shoulder. “I heard

the report about Cameron Veterinary Clinic on the scanner. Sophie‟s my girl.”

She made a choking sound. His girl??? Where did that come from? She started

to move away from him, but his fingers tightened their hold gently. She tugged, but his hand was firm as a steel band. Who did he think he was? Some knight in shining armor

come to her rescue? She could hold her own. Sophie started to elbow him, but, as if he SWORD OF FIRE Cynthia Breeding 14

anticipated the move, he simply pulled her closer to him, trapping her arm against the

side of his hard chest. And damn, if her traitorous body did not respond to that closeness.

Heat radiated straight to her belly and her knees felt weak. And almost as though he

knew the effect he was having, he grinned at her. She wanted to tell him she wasn‟t

about to fall for his male magnetism, but the officer was watching her.

Plastering a smile on her own face, she nodded. “I really do have to check o n my