Kissed by Fire (12 page)

“Why?”

She looked a bit confused by that. “What do
you mean, why?”

“Why dragons, specifically? I mean, why not
monkeys or elephants or mermaids?”

“Oh, yes, it is rather odd, isn’t it?” She
shrugged. “I don’t really know why dragons. They’re just in my
head. All the time. I suppose you could say I’m obsessed.”

I gazed around the shop. Obsessed was a good
word for it.

“Of course, my husband thinks I’m a bit
bonkers. But what does he know? He’s a TechMage, after all. Not
exactly normal, if you ask me.”

“I thought you said your husband was
dead?”

“Oh, that was husband number three, dear.
This is husband four. He’s quite lovely, number four.”

I wondered vaguely if Four had a name. Maybe
Sandra had gone through so many husbands she’d given up learning
their names and started calling them by numbers. The thought made
me grin.

“I was hoping you could tell me more about
dragons,” I said, bringing her back to the subject at hand. “I see
you have some dragon artifacts.”

“Oh, those are just for the tourists. They’re
nothing of interest. The real stuff is back here.” She motioned me
to follow her through a wrought iron gate into the back room.

The back room looked pretty much like the one
at Majicks and Potions, just a bit less dusty and much more
orderly. Several metal shelving units held boxes of goods meant for
sale and paperwork meant for filing. A state of the art laptop sat
squarely in the middle of a neatly organized desk and a file
cabinet stood sentry by the door.

Sandra beckoned me behind one of the shelving
units to a space not visible from the door. There sat a large metal
foot locker, locked tight with a padlock. Sandra took a chain from
around her neck. The chain held a single key which she inserted
into the lock.

The lid opened with a slight creak. Inside
were several parcels and pouches. Sandra pulled one from the chest
and laid it on the floor. Carefully, she untied the bindings and
unfolded the dark fabric.

Lying against the cloth was a dragon scale
nearly twice the size of the one I had, the one that had been found
with Alison’s body. I couldn’t help but gasp at the size of the
thing. “Where did you find this?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “It was a gift.”

“A gift? Who gave it to you?”

Sandra smiled. “Why, a dragon, of
course.”

I wondered if I looked as shocked as I felt.
Probably. “A dragon gave it to you.”

“Yes, of course. Where else would I get a
dragon scale? It’s not like they’re just lying about waiting to be
picked up.” She began carefully wrapping it back up.

“So the dragons really do exist.”

“They do. There aren’t as many as there once
were, but they’re still out there.” She pulled another parcel from
the trunk, unwrapping it slowly.

“Is that a dragon claw?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, running a finger
over the enormous ivory claw. “It was taken by a Hunter after he
killed the dragon it came from. He wore it around his neck as a
token of his bravery.” There was bitterness in her voice now, and
anger.

I noticed the hole drilled at the base of the
claw. Someone had definitely turned it into jewelry and from the
looks of things it wasn’t recent. “You took it back.”

“It did not belong to him. For a thousand
years, his descendents desecrated the memory of that beautiful
creature; I simply freed it. When the time is right, I will return
it to its rightful place.”

“With the dragons?”

She gave me a look. “Yes.”

“Sandra, what would you say about this?” I
pulled the warm dragon scale from Alison’s crime scene from my
pocket and handed it to her. The scale gave me a slight zing as it
left my hand. Weird.

She turned it over, running her fingers
across its surface. Her face glowed with wonder. “Where did you
find it?”

“I didn’t. MI8 found it on a dead body. A
body that had been clawed to death.”

“Alison Reynolds.”

I nodded.

She shook her head. “No, that cannot be. If a
dragon did kill someone, he wouldn’t leave a scale behind. Not to
mention there wouldn’t be much left of the person. Someone planted
this.” The tone of her voice was one of absolute certainty.

The scale was cool when she handed it back,
but the minute it touched my skin, it began to warm. It was just
too freaking weird.

“That’s what I thought. There simply wasn’t
enough damage to Alison’s body for the killer to have been a
dragon. Unfortunately, MI8 isn’t exactly listening. They’re working
off the premise that Alison was killed by a dragon and they’re not
listening to reason.” I watched her closely as I shared my
information, not terribly surprised as a look of horror swept
across her face.

“You must stop them, Morgan. You must. They
are innocent. The dragons did not do this! If you don’t stop it,
there’s going to be another hunt.” She twisted her hands in her
lap. “It will be genocide.”

“I know Sandra.” I reached over and took her
hands in mine, stilling them. “I don’t want that to happen any more
than you do. They’ve left us unharmed for centuries. If they wanted
to hurt us, they’d have done so long before now.”

“You believe me? But you are a Hunter.” Her
tone told me she held Hunters in about the same regard as sewer
rats.

I smiled at her and gave her hands a squeeze.
“Apparently I’m not your normal run of the mill Hunter. I’ve been
accused of being too open minded for my own good.”

She gave me a watery grin. “So what are you
going to do?”

“The only thing I can do. Find out who really
did kill Alison.” I released her hands and sat back. “Who would
have the most to gain from framing a dragon for murder?”

It was rhetorical, but she answered, “Why a
Dragon Hunter, of course.”

I shook my head. “Hunters like me don’t even
know about dragons and there hasn’t been a true Dragon Hunter born
in over a century.”

She held my gaze for a moment as though
deciding if I were trustworthy. Apparently the decision was in my
favor. “That isn’t true.”

“What do you mean?” Alister had been very
clear that Dragon Hunters no longer existed. They weren’t
needed.

“A true Dragon Hunter was born twenty three
years ago right here in London.”

***

I was late getting to Alison’s flat, my head
still buzzing with the information I’d learned from Sandra. She
hadn’t known the identity of the Dragon Hunter, but if she was
right and Dragon Hunters still existed, then either Alister was
lying or he was sorely misinformed. Either way it didn’t look good.
After all, if he had such a blind hatred of Witches, he could very
well feel the same about other supernatural beings. And if that
were true, what lengths would he be willing to go to destroy them?
Would he actually be willing to commit genocide?

I shrugged it off and rapped on the door. It
swung open to reveal Kabita and The Look.

“Don’t give me that look,” I said, giving her
one of my own as I stepped passed her into the hall.

“You’re late.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Believe me it was
worth it.” I quickly told her what I’d learned from Sandra.
Kabita’s jaw tightened.

“So, my father is probably hiding something.
No surprise there. He always did let his own personal bigotry get
in the way.”

“Generally how bigotry works.”

She ignored me and headed down the hall
toward what I assumed was the main living space. I was right. The
hall emptied into a large American style open plan living area. A
kitchen lay to the left, living room to the right and dining area
down the middle. In front of it all was a wall of glass with an
unobstructed view of the city.

“Freaking fantastic,” I breathed. “I had no
idea MI8 paid this well.”

“They don’t. Not to peons like Alison. Her
grandfather Reynolds came from money. Left her a load when he
died.” Kabita nodded to the right. “I’ve cleared the living room.
Nothing exciting there. I’ll check out the bedroom, you get the
kitchen.”

“Roger that.”

The kitchen was large by London standards,
with all the accoutrements of a modern kitchen such as garbage
disposal and a dishwasher. Luxuries I hadn’t been able to afford
back when I lived here. I could now.

I rummaged through the freezer. Classic
hiding place of the unimaginative. Nothing. I guess Alison either
had an imagination, or hadn’t had anything to hide. The fridge,
oven and cupboards also revealed nothing. I even went through all
the bottles of cleaning products under the sink. Then a thought
struck me.

It wasn’t a particularly unique hiding place,
but not everyone thought of it first thing. I opened one of the
cupboards and pulled down a large plastic container filled with
flour. I’d seen this in a movie once. I peeled off the lid and
stuck my hand into the powdery stuff, swishing around. Nothing.

I pulled down another container. A cookie jar
this time. I felt around until my fingers snagged a plastic bag. I
yanked it out of the cookies, spilling crumbs everywhere.

Inside the large sealed bag was a leather
bound journal, each page covered in neat little letters. As I
flipped through a photo fell out onto the floor. I scooped it up.
It was a picture of Alison with a big smile stretching across her
face. Next to her stood a tall man, one arm wrapped around her
shoulders and such a look of adoration on his face it made my heart
ache.

It was Alison’s colleague from the
funeral.

“Kabita! I found Alison’s journal.”

She hurried out from the bedroom. “Good
work.” She peered at the pages. “It’s all a bunch of gibberish. She
must have written it in code.”

“That would make sense. She was obviously
worried about being discovered. She hid the thing in a cookie jar.
She also hid this.” I held out the photo.

“He worked with Alison. I think his name is
Landry. Something like that.”

I nodded. “I had a feeling he had a thing for
Alison. Do you think it was mutual?”

“Looks that way.”

“That’s just sad,” I sighed and tucked the
picture back between the pages of the journal. “Do you know how to
crack the code?”

She shook her head in the negative. “My
brother Adam’s good with codes, though. I’ll let him give it a try.
Maybe he can do something with it.”

“Here’s hoping. I have a feeling there’s
something important in there.”

“I agree.” She led the way toward the front
door. “I think that’s all we’re going to find here. I could use a
drink. You?”

“Sure, why not. I saw a pub just up the
road.”

We headed up the street in companionable
silence. We’d known each other long enough we didn’t always need
words. I could tell something was eating at Kabita, but I figured
she’d share it when the time was right.

It was early yet and the pub was mostly
empty, so we had our choice of tables. I sank down at one near the
back and took a sip of pear cider. I’ve never been a fan of beer,
and wine made me sleepy. I’d found cider to be a nice alternate.
“Boy, I needed that. This has been a crazy couple of days.” It was
nice to relax in the dark coziness of the pub.

Kabita smiled and sipped at her wine, but her
face was strained. I frowned. “OK, what is it?”

She sighed. “I’m worried about you,
Morgan.”

I blinked. “Worried about me? Why?”

“This whole dragon thing. I know you think
the dragons are innocent, but I’m not so sure. Dad obviously thinks
they’re involved.”

“Right. And your father is the pinnacle of
fairness and honesty.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

Her jaw tightened. It made me feel bad. Just
a little. It was obvious her father only told the truth when it
suited him. He hated everything his daughter was, for crying out
loud. Yet here she was getting all upset at me calling a spade a
spade. Then again, I supposed I’d be protective of my family,
too.

“I’m sorry, Kabita, but come on. Alister
hasn’t been entirely forthcoming. About anything. He had to have
known the Dragon Hunters were still around and yet he conveniently
didn’t tell us. In fact, he out right told us they were gone.”

“It isn’t just the dragons, Morgan. You’re
obsessed.”

“With what?” My temper was rapidly
fraying.

“With the vampire that killed you,” said a
voice from behind me.

I knew that voice. I turned slowly in my
seat. “Jack. What the hell are you doing here?”

Jack stood behind me. His beautifully
sculpted face was stoic, but his sea blue eyes burned with fire. He
was mad. Really mad. “You left Portland without saying goodbye. You
didn’t take the amulet with you. And now you’re chasing all over
the city of London after a vampire you think killed you three years
ago.”

“I
know
he’s the one that killed me.
I’ll never forget the smell of him.” My lip curled at the memory.
They may have thought I was crazy, but I knew that vamp was
following me. I knew it in my very bones.

“Maybe so, but it’s not just the vampire,
it’s the dragons, too.” I hadn’t noticed the second man standing a
little behind Jack until he spoke.

“Trevor Daly. Fancy meeting you here. Is
there some reason you think what I do is your business?”

He sat down at the table and leaned toward
me, his brown eyes flashing with anger. “You work for Kabita and
Kabita works for me, therefore everything you do is my
business.”

“Bullshit. I’m on my own time.” I took a deep
gulp of cider. “What I do in my own time is my business.”

“Except you’re not on your own time anymore.
This is now an official joint investigation.” The look he gave me
was just a little too smug for my liking.

“Excuse me? Don’t you think you’re a little
out of your jurisdiction?”