City of Dragons, Books 1-3

By Val St. Crowe

When Detective Lachlan Flint of the Sea City Police asks for my help advising him with cases involving magical creatures, I'm hesitant.

Sure, I'm a dragon shifter, and I've got gargoyle friends and drake friends, and I've fought off a vampire motorcycle gang or two. The name's Penny Caspian. Nice to meet you. I've got the knowledge and the experience to be a consultant.

But there's some deep-down trouble in that detective's hollow eyes, and I got enough problems of my own, chief among them my psycho ex-husband who can't seem to let go.

So, I'm hesitant. But I don't say no. This is my city, and I protect my own.

Check out the first three books in the City of Dragons series, bundled together for your convenience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. J. Chambers
• Release date: Apr 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463955642

Book preview

FIRE SONG

Fire Song

City of Dragons

Book One

by Val St. Crowe

There’s a serial killer stalking dragon shifters in Sea City, and pretty boy Detective Lachlan Flint wants my help tracking the killer down.

I’m a dragon shifter myself. Penny Caspian’s the name. But I’m trying to lie low, not run around interrogating half the dragon community—or one dragon in particular. My ex.

Yeah, I left my destined mate. I know, I know. Dragons don’t do that. Trust me. It’s better this way.

This detective, though, he’s not taking no for an answer. Did I mention he’s pretty? But haunted and hiding something. There’s some deep-down trouble in that boy’s hollow eyes, and I got enough trouble of my own. Vampire motorcycle gangs. Wounded gargoyles. Locked dragon crypts.

Maybe it’s because I saw that shifter’s broken body, washed up on the beach. Maybe it’s her dead, empty eyes. It’s something, the hell if I know what, but I am going to find that killer. This is my city, and I look after my own.

FIRE SONG

© copyright 2016 by Val St.Crowe

http://vjchambers.com

Punk Rawk Books

Please do not copy or post this book in its entirety or in parts anywhere. You may, however, share the entire book with a friend by forwarding the entire file to them. (And I won’t get mad.)

Fire Song

City of Dragons

Book One

Val St. Crowe

CHAPTER ONE

Hey there, said a soft voice.

I looked up. I was standing on my own, staring out at the ocean, huddled under a blanket. There was a throng of people still on the boardwalk. We’d all been here for the Sea City March Wine Festival. The air was nippy, though earlier today, it had been bright and sunny, a herald of spring.

I wasn’t sure how this blanket had gotten around my shoulders. Someone must have put it on me.

I was only concentrating on what I’d seen, every single detail of the body that had washed up on the beach.

I’d walked down to the surf, wanting a bit of fresh air, and there she had been.

She was pale and bloated, gleaming in the moonlight, her hair tangled around her throat. The wounds in her chest gaped open, dark and shiny, like the sea itself.

But the worst thing had been her eyes. Rheumy, the color of a robin’s egg… no pupil left at all.

You doing okay? said the soft voice.

I turned to look in the direction of the voice. Fine, I snapped, even though I was shaking under the blanket.

The soft voice belonged to a man in a suit. His tie was loosened. His pants were crusted in sand.

He had movie star good looks. A dimpled chin. A straight nose. His shoulders were broad and his hands looked large and powerful.

But he was gaunt. His cheekbones too prominent, his clothes hanging too loose. And his eyes…

His eyes were hollow.

There was something strange about the look of him, so attractive and yet so haunted.

I pulled my blanket tighter around myself, my brain working. He must be… You the police detective? The one they said was going to want to talk to me?

That’d be me. Detective Lachlan Flint. He had a hint of a southern drawl, so different from the mid-Atlantic accent I usually heard around these parts. And a sharp departure from my own clipped northern speech. I understand you saw the girl.

I nodded. She had cuts… I gestured to my own chest. Long, deep gashes, like she’d been ripped apart.

I saw the body, ma’am, he said reassuringly. You don’t have to go through that for me.

Oh. I nodded. Of course. I had been holding the image in my brain for nothing. Why had I thought he would need me to describe it? Why hadn’t I just let it go?

Because I couldn’t.

…will go through any evidence they can find on her at the lab, he was saying.

I had missed the beginning of that sentence, but I just nodded.

Won’t be much, I’m afraid, he said. Water tends to get rid of most anything useful.

I gazed at him, thinking again of how hollow his eyes seemed. Maybe he was simply tired. Or maybe he had seen too many bodies, too many robin’s egg eyes, and it had left a permanent mark on him.

Sorry about that, he said. "I don’t need to go through that for you. I understand you can identify the victim?"

Oh, I whispered. I… I shook my head. No, I don’t know who she is. I winced. What was wrong with me? Had I said her name aloud? I was going to blow everything. I couldn’t have people knowing who and what I was.

You called her… He got his phone out of his suit jacket pocket and scrolled through something on the screen. Elena. Several people heard you.

No, I didn’t, I said. I’ve never seen her before.

He nodded slowly. I see. So, can you explain to me how it is that other people heard you say that name?

Maybe someone else said it, and they thought it was me.

You ran up the beach and you yelled… He consulted his screen. ‘It’s Elena. It’s her. She’s dead.’ He raised his eyebrows.

Damn, had I really said that? Well, it was upsetting seeing a girl dead like that, especially one who was so young. I turned away from Lachlan Flint to look out at the ocean—dark water against a dark sky.

Did you have something to do with this girl ending up in the water? he said gently. Maybe you didn’t expect her to wash up so close to home.

What? I turned to him. No!

All right, then. He waited.

I didn’t say anything.

You and I both know that you know that girl. Now, you tell me who she is and how it is you know her, and you might be headed home to your bed tonight. If not, I think you’ll be coming to the station with me, and I’ll have to keep pestering you until I get the truth out of you.

I sighed. I’d gotten myself into a heck of a mess, hadn’t I? She’s Elena Watson, I said. She’s a dragon.

The surprise flitted across his face before he could school his expression. A dragon? Well, there was some speculation that this was a magical creatures case, and that’s why they called me. I’m the police detective that deals with that. But dragons, well, you don’t see a lot of that.

Not down in the south part of the city, I said.

No, he said. Most of the dragons lived up north, right on the border of Delaware.

I think she must have been out in town. The younger dragon set likes to do that. They like to mingle with the humans, pretend… I licked my lips. Maybe a slayer saw her, realized what she was.

This isn’t a slayer killing, said Flint. Slayers kill dragons in dragon form. They kill for things they can sell. We don’t find dragon bodies, because there’s never anything left. Slayers cut them up and sell every last bit.

I felt bile rising in my throat. I knew this, of course, but hearing it put so graphically made me feel nauseous.

How do you know what the younger dragon set likes to do? said Flint. How do you know this girl was a dragon?

Now, that was something I couldn’t tell him. But I needed to say something, or he would continue to be suspicious. I cast about for a lie. I used to work there, for a dragon family at one of their beach houses in the north of Sea City. I didn’t really know Elena, but I saw her a few times. As far as it went, not knowing her was the truth. I had never been close to Elena, but I knew every dragon in the community. There were less than fifty family lines. It was a small world.

Worked?

Cleaning, I said.

He nodded. Ah. He put his hands in his pockets and turned to look out over the beach. The people who I talked to, they identified you as the owner of the Purple Dolphin Hotel and Suites. He consulted his phone again. Miss Penelope Caspian?

People call me Penny, I said.

So, you own a hotel now?

A small one, I said. We only had ten rooms and four suites.

Tell, me, how does a person go from cleaning houses to owning a hotel?

Damn it. I looked down at my feet.

Maybe you know a lot about mingling with humans, Ms. Caspian, he said in a low voice, and there was something intimate about it.

I swallowed hard. He was good, wasn’t he? That low, southern voice of his made me want to tell him everything. He made me feel as if confessing to him would ease all my burdens. I lifted my chin, defiant. A person works hard.

He chuckled. All right, then.

Listen, detective, this has been a very traumatizing experience for me, and if you don’t have any other questions for me…

I won’t say anything, he said, his voice still low and intimate. I’ll keep it to myself what you are. But I wonder… He sized me up. We aren’t equipped to deal with the influx of creatures into Sea City. The police department, myself included, is fairly clueless about all of that.

It was true that Sea City had only become the number one vacation spot for magical creatures over the past ten years or so. It had started with dragons buying up real estate in the north, right on the border of Delaware, and then everyone had started following suit. Vampires, gargoyles, and mages. Even drakes, slinking along in the shadows. There were more concentrated magical creatures here than probably anywhere else on the east coast.

You, as a person who’s cleaned houses for dragons, might have some useful knowledge. He winked at me, to let me know he didn’t really believe I’d ever cleaned a house in my life. He was right about that, unfortunately. I wonder if I had a question about something in a case, if I might get in touch with you.

I drew myself up. This a deal, detective? Tit for tat? You keep your mouth shut if I help you out?

Just a simple request, Ms. Caspian.

Well, then, Detective Flint, I’m afraid I’m a very busy woman. I doubt I’d have time.

He pursed his lips.

Is there anything else you need from me? I asked again.

Not for tonight, he said. Somehow, it sounded like a threat.

I pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders and stalked off through the sand.

* * *

I couldn’t sleep that night. I tried, rolling over and over in my bed, in my apartment, which sat just over the lobby of the Purple Dolphin Hotel. I lived where I worked, and everything that I had was now sunk into this hotel.

Maybe it had been stupid coming here.

I had thought Sea City would be the perfect hiding spot. I had thought that losing myself amongst the magical misfits in the south part of the city would be easy. I had thought that I’d blend in, and that no one would ever figure out who or what I was.

You had to buy a hotel, didn’t you? I whispered at the ceiling.

I hadn’t wanted to work for anyone else. I was proud that way. Call it my heritage, I suppose.

I had been raised in a wealthy family, and everyone I knew was wealthy, and no one that I knew was anyone’s employee. Not in the world that I came from. So, I guessed that I had purchased the hotel because I didn’t know how else to make my way in the world.

Now I had it, and I loved it here.

Or I had, until recently, when everything had been going to hell. It wasn’t just the body on the beach.

I kept hearing rumors that Alastair was here.

I had come here specifically because he hated it here. He hated the ocean. Why had he changed his mind? And why was he here so early in the season? It wasn’t even officially spring.

But the body was the reason that I couldn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that girl’s dead, washed-out eyes.

She had been so young.

She wasn’t even mated yet. And I knew that time in a dragon’s life was heady and free. The young and unmated refused to take anything seriously. They drank and gambled and snorted cocaine and slept around and threw their family money where they could. Life for a girl like Elena Watson was a big party, and she had been intent on living it to the fullest.

I didn’t know who had killed her.

Maybe it had nothing to do with her being a dragon.

But death stalked dragons. Well. Slayers stalked dragons. Drakes stalked dragons. Even vampires, though they could get their magic from the blood of drakes, came for us.

Perhaps this had been the work of a vampire. Unlike the other creatures, vampires could use dragon’s blood even if it came from a dragon in human form. For anyone else to extract a dragon’s magic, they needed a dragon in dragon form.

And that was something that Elena Watson would never feel again. She would never shift into her dragon form. She would never spread her wings, soar on a current, breathe fire—

Hell, she’d never breathed fire at all. A dragon couldn’t achieve that feat until he or she had mated.

Finally, I stopped fighting it. It was after midnight when I crawled out of bed and made my way down to the shore. I walked over the sand barefoot. I threw my nightshirt over my head, the cold air against my naked skin.

I stepped into the surf.

The water was freezing, but I pushed past the waves, going out far enough that the water would submerge my body.

I dove under the waves, and the icy water enveloped me.

Here, in the water, I opened myself to the change. It had to be done here, under water, because the shift from one form to another was far too much. Being weightless helped. If I tried it out of water, my dragon form would destroy my human form coming out, and I would never be able to shift back. The human part of me would die.

I couldn’t be sure, but I often thought that the dragons of legend, the ones who razed cities to the ground, breathing fire and killing everything in their path, were dragons who had lost their human form in such a way. They had been trapped as dragons, frustrated and angry. No wonder they had been so vicious.

Under the water, my wings unfurled.

I surfaced, the sea dripping off of my scales. I rose from the water, flapping my wings, gaining altitude.

I aimed for the moon, the air rushing around me, the freedom—the euphoria—of flight making everything feel okay again.

Nothing could touch me here. Not Alastair, not a dead girl whose life had never been lived, not all the death I’d experienced in my life.

I liked it here, soaring and swooping, going higher and higher.

I climbed above the clouds. I wanted to fly away from all my troubles.

But wasn’t that what I’d tried to do when I’d come here? Hadn’t I thought that being far away from the life I used to live would mean I’d be free? And here I was. No matter how far I flew, how far I ran, trouble found me anyway.

Maybe it was a curse.

But I was alive. I wasn’t gone, like Elena Watson, cut up and washed up, dead and destroyed.

I thought of Elena’s family, getting the news. Like most dragon couples, her parents had only managed to produce one offspring. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course, but pregnancy was difficult for dragons to achieve. Elena was the only hope of carrying on their line. She was their only precious little girl. They had lavished all their love on her. She had been the center of their universe. Now, she was gone.

The agony they must be feeling.

Yes, at least I was alive.

Even if I felt as if I had lost the center of my own universe a long time ago.

Sometimes, I wasn’t even sure how it was that I got up and kept moving.

Maybe it was only for this. The wind in my wings, the moonlight reflecting on the ocean beneath me. Night flight. It was joy, even when I couldn’t find anything else to be glad about.

CHAPTER TWO

I walked back up the beach after the flight, pulling my nightshirt on over my wet, naked body. I was now back in human form.

The dawn was starting to streak through the sky. Soon, the sun would rise over the water, staining everything pink and orange. But for now it was only a bone-colored sky on a gray horizon.

There was someone in the lobby of my hotel.

I took off at a run, which wasn’t an easy thing to do in the sand. It slowed me down, and I missed the ease of flight, nothing in my way but the breeze.

I hurried up the set of wooden steps that led to the patio of the hotel.

I ran past tables topped with closed umbrellas, past the empty pool, which wouldn’t be filled until at least May.

I threw open the door to the lobby.

The vampires in there all turned to look at me.

They were in the middle of trashing the place, yanking things off shelves, emptying drawers, overturning a big rack of brochures by the door.

Get out, I growled. I told you never to come back here.

You pay and you never see us again, said one of the vampires. They were all wearing leather jackets with skulls on the back, emblazoned with the name of their gang, The Lost Breed.

The vampire motorcycle gang ran this part of the beach. They demanded that every business owner pay them off each month. They called themselves a security team. Said they’d protect us from robbers and vandals. But the only robbers and vandals were the gang themselves.

The deal really worked out to this: pay us, and we’ll stop trashing your place of business twice a month.

I wasn’t the kind of person who took well to being pushed around.

Not anymore.

The vampires were bullies.

Bite me, I said, grinning widely at them.

One of them had a baseball bat slung over his shoulder. He swung it down to his feet and leaned on it. Listen, lady, we’re here under orders. You know how this works. Just pay us.

Never, I said.

He picked up the bat. He swung into the window in the front door.

Glass shattered with a crash.

Your funeral, he said, hauling back to swing again.

I lifted my hands. Before, I hadn’t resorted to this, because I hadn’t wanted anyone to know what I was. But now it hardly seemed to matter. And fresh from a flight over the ocean, I was brimming with magic. I felt it crackling from my core, racing down my arms, over my fingertips.

I pointed, and the vamp and the baseball bat both lifted off the ground.

I separated the bat from the vampire, sent it hurtling to the ground, where it landed with a loud metal clank.

The vampire let out a hoarse cry. He was scared, even though vampires could do this kind of magic too—well, they could if they’d had a nice meal of dragon blood.

But most vampires seemed to just drink blood to survive, and that meant from animals. They got pints of it at their local butcher shop, and all that blood did for them was keep them alive, help them heal quickly, keep them strong.

These vampires weren’t going to be a problem.

Hank? said one of the other vamps. All of them had stopped whatever destruction they were in the middle of to stare at their floating friend.

I slammed Hank into the wall, pinned him there like a bug on a card.

Hank, what are you doing up there? said one of the other vamps.

I’m not doing it, said Hank, gaping at me. She is.

I pointed at another vampire, one who hadn’t spoken. He lifted from the ground as well.

He shrieked. Hey, lady, let me down.

What is she? Some kind of mage? said another one.

She’s not doing a spell, said Hank. Her lips ain’t moving.

Talisman, said another. I’ll find it. I’ll get it off her.

I nodded at him. He fell flat on the ground. He struggled, but I used my magic to keep him down.

I can’t move! he said, his voice full of fear.

Abruptly, I dropped Hank.

He crashed down to the ground and landed with a crunch.

Ooh. I thought his leg was broken.

He howled.

Get him out of here, I said. Get him out of here and don’t come back or I will do much worse than this to all of you.

I set down the other vampire. I let the third guy get up.

They gathered up Hank and scampered out of the lobby right quick.

I watched them go.

Then I stared at the broken glass that littered the floor and felt a sob welling up in my throat. The lobby was trashed. I had customers checking in today. How was I supposed to do that when this place had been destroyed?

Thought you were keeping a low profile, Penny, said the voice of my best friend Felicity Richardson.

I turned to see her in the doorway to the lobby. Hey. I felt exhausted.

I saw you flying around out there. Other people probably saw too.

There are dragons flying around all the time, I said. It’s not a big deal.

Not down here in the south part of the city, she said. She was right. Dragons tended to stay in the north. Safer there, amongst their own.

I walked over to her, gingerly stepping around the broken glass. My feet were bare. I had a bad night. I saw a dead body.

I heard about that on the news, she said. When I was coming home, it was on the radio in my car. Some girl’s body washed up? She was a dragon?

I nodded.

They said she was a minor, so they didn’t release the name.

Elena Watson, I said.

Oh, she’s so young, said Felicity.

I know.

My best friend Felicity was a drake, but she wasn’t like all the other drakes. She had fallen in with a bad crowd in college and gotten dosed with what she thought was an innocent brownie. Turns out the thing was laced with dragon flesh. When the high came on, she was terrified. She hadn’t been expecting it. She got in her car and tried to drive. Wrapped her car around a tree. When she woke up, she looked the way she does now.

Felicity had rows of green-blue scales that started around her ears. She was lucky to be one of the drakes whose face had remained mostly human, and she still had human-looking hands, not claws. But her feet were reptilian, and the scales ran from the top of her head all the way down over her back and legs.

Drakes were dragon-human hybrids. They got that way by eating dragon meat and dying with it still in their system.

Thing was, after the transformation, most of them were crazy for more. They were addicted to dragon and most of them got themselves killed trying to get more.

Felicity kept her lust for flesh under control by eating a lot of meat, preferably rare and bloody. She’d never attempted to hurt me, not even once.

Thing was, drakes didn’t often get second chances. Vampires could still pass for human. No one knew what had happened to them. But drakes were marked as monsters, and more often than not, they were. They were controlled by their addiction.

Felicity was different, though.

Was, said Felicity. "She was so young." Her voice was quiet.

I blew my cover, I said. I said Elena’s name. I identified her. I tried to lie to the police detective who questioned me about it, tell him that I only knew her because I used to clean houses for dragons—

Hey, that’s my life story, said Felicity.

Well, I needed to think of something believable, I said. That was how Felicity and I had met. She used to clean the beach house for my family when we came to Sea City. Before my parents were killed by a slayer. Before Felicity got turned into a drake. Before I ran away from everything that I ever knew.

He didn’t buy it? Felicity asked.

I shook my head. Not really. He knows. He didn’t come right out and say it, but he knows I’m a dragon.

So, that’s it? One detective figures out your secret and you’re flying around and using telekinetic magic on vampires?

There were three kinds of magic and all three came from dragons. Telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and compulsion. Any magic that any other half-breed or mage possessed, they got from taking parts of dragons and using them to create magic. Since I was a dragon, I could do all of it on my own. But I usually didn’t.

Look, I said. They thought I had a talisman. They thought I was a mage. Anyway, it’s not important. It’s only a matter of time before Alastair finds me. I pushed past Felicity and into the hallway. I started up the steps to my apartment.

She followed me. She lived up here with me too. We’d been attached at the hip for a long time. Even when she was the cleaning girl, I used to follow her around and ask her questions about what it was like to be outside of dragon culture. Back then, humans had seemed exotic to me, and I’d been curious.

I’d cultivated the friendship because I was being a rebellious kid, but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t become more than that. Especially after Felicity had become a drake. She’d had no one to turn to, but she’d come to me. And I’d protected her ever since.

We were devoted to each other. Always would be.

You don’t even know for sure that he’s in town, she said as we emerged in our living room. She threw herself down on a couch. Argh. I’m starving.

We’ve heard rumors, I said.

But he hates the ocean, she said.

Apparently not anymore, I said. You want me to try to cook something? I veered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

It was bare, as usual.

We didn’t eat much here. We had most of our meals at the adjoining restaurant, the Pink Flamingo Cafe. Our friend Ophelia Diaz owned it. We’d worked out a deal with her to offer a continental breakfast for our hotel patrons in her back room. More often than not, that was where Felicity and I ate breakfast too.

No, that’s okay, she called. Don’t worry about it. The Flamingo will be open in twenty minutes.

I came back into the living room. I can cook, you know. I took that class in the fall. I’m good at it.

She smiled. I know you are.

I sat down opposite her. You’re patronizing me.

No, I’m not, she said.

I eyed her. It wasn’t worth fighting over, and besides, I was noticing she was still in last night’s clothes. Where have you been all night?

Her face broke out into a wide grin. I am officially part of a couple!

My lips parted. You… you are?

Oh, Penny, don’t be like that.

I’m not being like anything. I got up and began fluffing pillows on the couch. For some reason, I didn’t want to look at her. So, you have a boyfriend. Congratulations. What kind of boyfriend could she have? What man was attracted to drakes? Sure, Felicity was still lovely in her own adorable way, but most people would see her as a monster. I didn’t want her to get hurt. I didn’t want her to get used.

You sound so completely sincere.

"I am sincere." I fluffed another pillow.

Stop doing that and look at me.

I paused. Sighed. Sat back down and faced her. You never mentioned that you were dating.

I don’t bring this stuff up to you.

Why not? We’re best friends. We share everything.

It’s just because of how you are.

How I am?

About men, you know?

How am I about men?

Well, you’re wary.

Wary?

Understandably, she said, smiling. Of course you’re wary.

I studied my fingernails.

I want you to meet him, Felicity said. Will you have dinner with us?

Sure, I said. I’m sure he’s great. I forced myself to smile. When I met that guy, I was going to make sure that he never hurt my friend. If he did, he’d have me to contend with.

CHAPTER THREE

So, I said to him, I said, ‘What have you got against gargoyles?’ said Connor Beckett, leaning on the counter in the lobby.

Do you think it looks okay in here? I said, leaning on a broom. I’d been sweeping up all day, it felt like. I’d had my staff checking people in by walking them directly from their cars to their rooms, avoiding the lobby entirely.

But now it was night, and I wasn’t going to ask the people I employed to go roaming around after dark in the parking lot, asking anyone who parked if they were checking in.

He says, ‘It’s not about the fact you’re a gargoyle, it’s about the fact I’m straight,’ Connor said.

I mean, there’s no window, but it’s the beach, I said. So, who needs windows at the beach? I stuck my arm through the place where the window should be.

But you tell me, said Connor. Anything that I said, did it sound like I was coming onto him?

Someone will come and fix the window in the morning. And if anyone says anything, say it was an accident. I turned to look at Connor.

He furrowed his brow. You aren’t even listening to me. Connor was six feet four inches tall. He was moving and talking now, but his skin still had the grayish hue of stone. He sported small wings at his back. He was a gargoyle, which meant that he could only work at night, on account of the fact that he turned to stone all day and everything.

I’m listening, I said. Guy sounds like a homophobe.

Exactly, he said. Thank you. Connor was a gay gargoyle. He’d come out to his family and been disowned. They weren’t very open to alternative lifestyles. Anyway, now he lived at the hotel here with me and Felicity. When he’d told me what happened, I hadn’t had it in me to let him live on the street. That’s what I said. But he didn’t like that very much.

You called him a homophobe to his face?

I’m just sick of these fugly men getting all hot under the collar because I happen to be polite to people. I would never have hit on him, not in a zillion years. And I could tell he was straight.

I waited. Maybe there was a point to this story?

Connor folded his arms over his chest. Anyway. Just saying.

So, you’re okay in here? Even without the window? Is it too cold for you?

Girl, please. I’m a gargoyle.

Right, I said. I started back out of the lobby. Well, if you need anything, call me. I paused in the doorway. So, you don’t feel cold?

I feel it, he said. Just doesn’t bother me.

Interesting. I thought about that for a second. Because you’re made of stone.

Yeah, I guess so, he said, shrugging.

I guessed this was why I had to insist on keeping Connor clothed. If it were up to him, he’d run around in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and nothing else. When he was working, though, he had to be dressed.

You leaving me here alone? he said.

I’ve got some things to work on, I said.

Connor snatched the remote control up off the counter and switched on a television set that hung over the door. Miraculously, the vampires hadn’t gotten to it last night. However, it was the third TV I’d purchased. Vamps had smashed its predecessors. Felicity said I was an idiot for continuing to put it back up in the lobby. She might have been right. It was the principle of the thing, though. If I didn’t put the TV back up, the vamps won.

… another body washed up on the shore late this afternoon, similar to the first body that was found last night, said the TV. This may be the work of a serial killer.

I whirled to face the screen.

A newswoman was standing out on the dark beach. She was smiling. Police are hesitant to say if there is any connection to the previous body, but the victim was another young female, just like the body found last night. Back to you, Jim.

I wanted to wipe her smile off her face.

But Jim was already back on the screen, babbling on about the weather over the weekend.

Another girl. Was she also a dragon, like Elena? Was this a pattern? Was someone out there targeting young, dragon girls?

* * *

Oh, you’re here to see Flint? said the woman at the desk in the police department. You his sister or something?

No, I said. It’s about the dead girls. The ones that have been washing up from the ocean?

Oh. The woman nodded. She had red hair, which was actually more a shade of mahogany. An obvious dye job. Shoulda figured. He ain’t got any family. I knew right off you weren’t his girlfriend or nothing. No way could a woman put up with that man. Easy on the eyes, sure, but once he opens his mouth, you wish he wouldn’t.

Really, I said. This was bizarre. Can I see him, please?

I’ll call him. Let him know you’re here. What did you say your name was?

Penny Caspian, I said.

She picked up her phone, hit some buttons.

I waited and listened as she relayed the information into the phone’s receiver. Then she hung up. You can go on back. Just through that door.

Thanks, I said, and went through the door.

I entered a big room that was filled with a bunch of desks. There was one long middle row, all facing forward, almost like in a classroom, except the desks were all the size of teachers’ desks and covered in computers and knick knacks and filled with men and women in uniforms and suits. The other desks flanked the walls, but they faced inward. There were aisles between the middle row and the inward facing desks.

I saw Detective Flint right away. He was wading through the left-hand aisle toward me. Then he spotted me. He stopped. Motioned me over.

I crossed the distance between us.

Ms. Caspian, he said. I was under the impression you were a very busy woman.

Was she a dragon? The other body?

He gestured to the back corner of the room, where a bare-looking desk sat all by itself. You want to join me at my desk? We can have a little chat if you’d like.

Sure, fine. Whatever. I strode over to the desk and sat down at the seat beside it.

He sat down across from me. He leaned forward, gazing at me intently. Why are you here?

I just… I need to know. If the other body that was found, if it was a dragon girl as well.

Why?

I do, that’s all.

He leaned back in his chair. I can’t quite get a handle on you, Ms. Caspian. He turned back to his desk. Right now, I’d say you’re my top suspect.

What? I got to my feet. How could you say that?

He shrugged. Well, you’re not a perfect match. You’re a woman, and near as I know, women don’t do crimes like this. Women kill, sure, but it’s not for sexual dominance. Men have the market cornered on that. And everything about these murders seems to point to the idea that the murderer is doing it for pleasure, for kicks.

What if it’s a vampire? I sat back down again. Vampires can get magic from dragon blood even if they drink it while the dragon is in human form.

That so? He cocked his head to one side. See, these are the kinds of things that it might be valuable for the department to know. You’re a creature expert—

I’m not an expert.

You don’t want to help us, though. But you’re driven to be part of the investigation somehow. Perhaps because you’re involved in some way.

Actually, I came back because I changed my mind, I said. I do want to help. If there’s something I can do. If she was a dragon, I mean. If it’s the kind of case that I can even help with… I was getting quieter with every string of words, as if I was losing faith in what I was saying. I furrowed my brow. If I’m a suspect, why would you want my help?

He made a tent with his forefingers and rested them against his chin. "Did you ever read The Scarlet Letter?"

Maybe. In high school, I think. I was thrown by this strange shift in subject.

In the book, Arthur Dimmesdale, he’s the preacher who impregnated the girl, right?

I nodded.

Well, she’s ostracized from society, forced to wear the letter on her chest. You remembering this?

I guess so, but I don’t understand why you’re bringing it up.

Do you remember the end, where he pulls aside his shirt and he’s got his own big A on his flesh?

Um… I was thoroughly confused.

Flint tapped his tented fingers against his chin. Some people think he cut it into his own skin, but those people aren’t reading the book right. See, what Nathaniel Hawthorne was trying to say in that book was that guilt wants out. You do something wrong, and it starts to fester in you, and it strains and it pushes and it takes whatever opportunity it can to show itself. The more you push it down, the more it finds a way. So, if you really have been out murdering people, Ms. Caspian, there’s something inside you, some scarlet letter that’s trying to push its way out, and it’s what’s bringing you to me right now. I’d be a bad detective if I didn’t allow you to do whatever you need to do in order to confess to me, because that’s what you want deep down.

I drew back. I’m not… I would never hurt those girls.

He smiled. No?

I’m not that kind of person.

You’re hiding something.

You already know what I’m hiding. I lowered my voice, leaned closer to him. I’m a dragon, and I don’t want anyone to know that.

Sure, he said. But why don’t you want anyone to know?

I sighed, frustrated.

You’re hiding something. He stretched and cupped the back of his head with both hands, looking relaxed. So, anyway, you want to help the investigation now?

I don’t know if I do, not if you think I’m a murderer.

If you aren’t a murderer, why are you here now?

I felt exasperated. Because I’m afraid this might be a pattern. That more girls are going to die, and if there is something that I can do, and I don’t do it, I’ll feel guilty about that my whole life. I glared at him. Guilt wants out, I said, mimicking him.

He chuckled again. All right. That’s fine, then, Ms. Caspian. Truth is, we don’t know if the other body is a dragon or not. We can’t identify her. You want to look at a picture?

I gulped. A picture of another dead body, when Elena’s blank eyes were already making it difficult for me to sleep? Does she look as bad as Elena?

He reached into a folder on his desk and slapped an eight by ten glossy down in front of me.

The first thing I saw were the gaping wounds on her chest and I turned away, feeling sick.

Do you know who she is?

I turned back slowly. You could have warned me you were going to do that, I said in a tight voice.

Wanted your honest reaction.

"I’m not a killer."

Sure, sure. You know who she is or not?

I blinked, trying to look past the wounds to see the girl’s face. At first, she didn’t look like anyone recognizable. She was in worse shape than Elena had been, and her features had been ravaged by water. What happened to her? I murmured.

She’s been in the water longer, he said in a husky voice. This one was probably dumped before the first one. She’s our first victim. Elena was the second.

I bit down on my lip. I can’t… I can’t be sure. But maybe if you pull up a picture on your computer. Look at her Facebook account?

Whose?

Uh… Sophia Ward. She was older than Elena, but unmated as far as I know, and so she might have been wandering downtown, going to bars on the boardwalk.

What’s the mating thing got to do with it? said Flint. Dragons mate for life, I know that much. And they never cheat on their partners.

That’s not true, I said.

Which one?

Either, I said. I mean, in theory, it shouldn’t happen, but it does. And yes, dragons mate differently than humans. We… have one mate, a destined mate, a person we’re meant to be with for the rest of our lives, and when we see that mate, then… I was starting to sweat. I shook myself. That’s not important. What’s important is that once dragons are mated, we settle down. Before mating, it’s open season—wild parties, drinking, staying up all night, that kind of thing.

Doesn’t sound that much different than humans, honestly, he said, turning to his computer. Sophia Ward, you said?

It’s different, I said. When you’re mated as a dragon, it’s… The sweat was back.

He turned the computer screen toward me, and there was a picture of Sophia. She looked about the way I remembered. She had big, bright eyes and freckles. She was wearing a set of dangling ruby earrings in the shape of flames. They were one of a kind. I recognized the work of the artist. I remembered that Alastair had once given me a bracelet crafted with stones like that.

The hair color is right, said Flint. And it could be her. He picked up the photograph and held it up against the computer screen. I don’t want to give ultimate confirmation just from this, but maybe I’ll bring in her family.

I shuddered.

He turned to look at me. I was planning on going to talk to Elena’s family today anyway. Would you like to tag along? Since you said you wanted to help?

Go there? I got out of the chair. I can’t go there. I can’t be around the dragons. They can’t know I’m here.

He raised his eyebrows.

I shook my head. And then I turned and fled from the room. What the hell had I been thinking?

CHAPTER FOUR

I put my hands on my hips, surveying the new window. It looks good, but I feel like that caulking there is a little—

Oh, no, we’ll fix that, said Jim, the guy who always did my windows. If you think it’s worth it, that is. This is the third time I’ve replaced this window.

I gritted my teeth. It’s not going to happen again.

That’s what you said last time.

Fix the caulking, I said, sighing.

Sure thing, he said.

I rubbed my temples and went out onto the front sidewalk. It was growing dark and Connor would be waking up soon to take over the front desk. I was filling in right now because the girl who usually did evenings had called in with the flu.

I was happy to have something to fill my day with, actually. Truthfully, owning a hotel was a strange profession. I had a lot of free time, but I also had bursts of stressful activity, during which I was pulled in several directions at once. Most of the time, though, I had to admit I was bored.

I figured I had a bit of time before the vampires came back. They usually gave me a little time in between attacks. I intended to keep my word, however. I wasn’t going to allow that window to get smashed again. Using magic against them had been empowering. I wasn’t going to get walked all over anymore. I was going to find a way to stop them.

As I considered my options for fighting back, a Ford Taurus pulled up in front of the hotel, and Detective Flint got out. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, and his shirt was untucked. It blew against his chest in the breeze.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as gaunt as I had thought. I could see his wiry muscle, the outline of him as he approached me. He was wearing sunglasses. He took them off.

I drew in breath and let it out. Was I attracted to the detective? Was that what this was? I wasn’t sure what regular, run-of-the-mill attraction even felt like. I wasn’t sure if I was even capable of it. I put my hands in my pockets. What are you doing here?

He smiled. Just couldn’t handle it. You intrigue me. He pointed at me with his sunglasses. So, I have to admit, I looked into you. Funny thing, Ms. Caspian. If you were really trying to hide, why use your real name?

Are you kidding? Like it’s so simple to just create a life under an assumed name. How would I get a driver’s license? How would I buy a hotel without using my bank?

He considered. Well, anyway, you weren’t hard to track down.

You say that, but it’s because you started by finding me, and then looked for who I was. I guarantee that it wouldn’t have been as easy the other way around.

Perhaps that’s so. There’s not much information about you here in Sea City, I’ll admit. But just oodles of it about you in Connecticut. Rich heir to the Caspian dragon dynasty. Inherited young due to the passing of your parents. I’m sorry for your loss, incidentally.

I pressed my lips into a firm line.

Then you married Alastair Cooper, another wealthy dragon heir. The two of you were a power couple. Until you disappeared.

Am I still a suspect? Is this some attempt to shake the truth out of me? What did you find that would make you think that I was a murderer?

I didn’t necessarily find anything like that. He scratched the back of his neck. I don’t get it, though. You left your husband. That never happens, despite what you said earlier in my office today. Dragon marriages do not end.

I was getting sweaty again. I wanted to run away from him.

Did he cheat on you?

I whipped my head up in surprise. What?

Well, earlier, when you were in my office, and I said the thing about infidelity—

No. I shook my head. Or, I don’t know. Maybe. It’s the kind of thing he would have done.

Why’d you leave?

I glared at the detective. He hit me, okay? He beat me within an inch of my life on multiple occasions. I was bonded to him, he was my one true mate, and I never loved anyone the way I loved him, the way I still… I flinched. If you don’t have a reason to think I’m a murderer, then why are you here?

He drew his brows together. Okay.

That’s it? Okay? I was aghast. He’d gotten me to admit it all, the truth of my life, that everything that I had ever believed about my kind was a lie. I’d been brought up to believe that my mate was my destiny, and that when I found him, he would complete me. He was all I was ever going to need.

And when I did find him, it was true that the bond between us was undeniable. I was consumed by my love for Alastair Cooper.

But yet, that hadn’t been enough. That hadn’t stopped him from hurting me. Nothing had.

Destined for a man like Alastair?

Why?

For a long time, I’d thought I deserved punishment for some reason. I was meant to be with this man, so I must be meant for beatings.

Finding the strength to leave him, when I was so strongly bonded to him, had been the hardest thing that I had ever done.

What do you want me to say? said Flint.

Why are you here? I repeated.

I want a consultant on this case, he said. I don’t understand dragon culture, and you do. I think I need to know what you know.

You don’t suspect me?

No. He shrugged. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Like I said, you don’t fit the profile of someone who would kill for pleasure. He began fiddling with his sunglasses, unfolding and folding the arms. "Listen, Ms. Caspian, catching killers is what I do. It’s all I do. When I go to sleep tonight, what I’m going to be thinking about is the face of Elena Watson’s mother when I told her the news that her little girl was gone. That disbelieving shock that seized her whole body, made her go stiff and still. I can’t do anything about her loss. But the worst thing about loss like that is that it seems like the sun shouldn’t keep circling the earth in the face of it. And it does. The world just keeps going on as if nothing had changed. Nature doesn’t care. Most people don’t care. It doesn’t affect them. But it affects me. That’s what I do. I’m affected, and I don’t stop being affected until I find whoever did it. It’s what I do. He tucked his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his shirt. So, if you can help me, I want your help."

I came to you because I wanted to help, I said. But I can’t go with you to the north side.

No, I understand that, he said. I’ll do that on my own. I’d just like to ask you information about dragons. And about Alastair Cooper.

Why? I said.

Well, turns out that someone saw Sophia Ward with him several weeks ago. Last time anyone’s seen her, near I can tell.

I swallowed.

You say he was violent, that he was abusive? Well, that kind of man does fit the profile of someone who might do this.

I couldn’t breathe. The thought of Alastair killing a girl? Yeah, I could picture it. I remembered the way he would rage, as if he’d lost all control of himself. And if he was guilty, then Flint would lock Alastair up, and I’d never have to worry about him ever again. I turned away from the detective, emotion rising in me like a tidal wave.

Hey, Penny? said a voice.

I looked up.

Connor was in the doorway of the lobby. Window looks good.

Hi, Connor, I said in a strained voice. I’m a little busy at the moment.

Just saying hi, said Connor. He looked the detective over. Hi to you, too. He waggled his eyebrows.

Hello, said Flint.

Connor came outside, crossing to us, offering his hand. I’m Connor. I work here.

Flint shook his hand. Good to meet you. I’m flattered, really, but I don’t exactly have time in my life for anything… extracurricular, and I have to admit I’ve never been attracted to men.

Connor yanked his hand back. I was only saying hello. He turned to look at me. Did it seem like I was hitting on him?

Um… I shifted on my feet.

Connor huffed. You know what? Forget it. He glared at Flint. I was being friendly, that’s all.

Oh, my mistake, said Flint, shrugging. I get unwanted attention a lot.

It was my turn to glare at Flint. You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?

He shrugged again. I’ve looked like this my whole life, Ms. Caspian. It’s helpful sometimes. People tend to be friendlier to attractive people. And in my line of work, that’s not a bad thing. But frankly, I’d rather blend in.

I gave him a look of disgust.

Flint put his sunglasses back on. Damned if it didn’t make him look sexy.

Connor squared his shoulders. I’m going back to work.

You do that, I said.

Flint watched him go. You know about gargoyles too?

A little bit, I said.

You busy this evening?

* * *

Listen, said Flint, who was surrounded by a gaggle of female gargoyles. This would really be easier if we could talk to Mr. Ross alone?

Brody Ross was behind all of his female relatives, hidden completely from sight.

We hadn’t gotten one look at him since arriving at Brody’s home. He was a suspect, according to Flint, and we were there to interview him. But thus far, we weren’t getting anywhere near him.

I don’t think so, said Brody’s mother. We know his rights, and we are not going to let anyone near him without a warrant.

Actually, that would only be if I’d uncovered enough evidence for an arrest, said Flint. If I could talk to him now, I might be able to cross him off my list entirely.

No, said Brody’s mother.

Brody’s sisters all stood in a row, gray arms crossed over their chests.

Hiding behind the women? said Flint. Is that really what you want to do, Ross?

I shook my head at Flint. That was a very bad idea. I pushed in front of him. Don’t listen to the detective, I said. He’s human, and he doesn’t understand.

We would not let Brody out to talk to you, said his mother. What he wants to do makes no difference. We are his family. We know best.

Of course you do, I said. Listen, we wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave him alone. Of course, you must be here to protect him. That’s only proper.

Flint raised his eyebrows.

But if we could ask him just a few questions? I said.

You ask the questions, said the mother. We will decide if he can answer them.

Okay, I said. That’s fair.

It is? said Flint. But he shrugged. All right.

We are waiting, said his mother.

Can we at least see him? said Flint.

It’s best not to push, I told him.

He shrugged again. He seemed to do that a lot. All right, then. Mr. Ross, I understand that you were fairly angry about the new development that went up in the north side of the city. You spearheaded several protests to stop the dragons from building their summer homes on that land. Said it was the site of your ancestral home.

Oh, that can’t be true, said Brody’s mother. That’s far too dangerous. Of course, it is terrible that those dragons built their houses there. Our family used to care for a lighthouse there for the mage family we served.

Gargoyles had been created by mages, using dragon sacrifice, the most powerful of magics, to be as strong as dragons and protect them from retaliation. It was only sixty years ago that gargoyles had been emancipated from mages and given status as citizens. Since they were tied by magic to the houses they inhabited, they had been a largely ignored magical race for centuries.

Tell them you wouldn’t do such a thing, Brody, said one of his sisters.

Um… came a voice. I did start the protests. Fat lot of good it did, though.

So, you were angry at the dragons, said Flint. Weren’t you?

Yeah, said Brody.

Did I say you could answer that question? said Brody’s mother sharply.

Sorry, Mom.

Angry enough to kill? said Flint.

What? said Brody’s mother, horrified.

What? said Brody. He pushed between two of his sisters. I never hurt anyone.

Dragon girls keep washing up on the beach, said Flint. Dragon girls who live in that housing development.

Hey, I have no idea who lives in the housing development, said Brody.

Brody! admonished his mother. You keep your mouth shut. You know how these police will twist your words.

Do you happen to know where you were on February twelfth? said Flint. Might not be significant, but it’s the last day that anyone saw Sophia Ward alive.

I have no idea, said Brody. What day of the week was that?

A Friday.

He was probably with Gina, said one of Brody’s sisters. They’re together a lot these days.

Oh, if he is not with us, and not at work, he is with Gina, said Brody’s mother.

Gina who? said Flint.

You’re not going to talk to her, are you? said Brody. Leave Gina out of this.

CHAPTER FIVE

We were on our way to talk to Gina, who was another gargoyle who lived across town.

As we drove, I explained gargoyle culture to Flint. They have a matriarchal society, I said. The family group is organized around the mother, the grandmother. It’s not until the oldest female’s death that the family begins to branch off into smaller units.

Okay, I get that, he said, gripping the steering wheel as we sped down Atlantic Avenue, the main strip of highway that went up and down the coast. On one side of us, twenty-story hotels blocked out the ocean. On the other side, restaurants and strip malls lit the night. What I don’t get is why they wouldn’t let him talk.

They think men live in a state of perpetual childhood, I said. They don’t trust men to own property or to have any say over major decisions. Those are all taken care of by the matriarch.

So, men are just second-class citizens?

Well… I shrugged. I’m sure there are human men who wouldn’t complain about living a gargoyle lifestyle. The men basically have no responsibilities besides impregnating females. They can have sex with whoever they want with no expectations of commitment, because they don’t ever leave their mother’s houses. Gargoyles don’t pair bond like us. Women raise their babies in the matriarch’s home, along with their brothers. All the children stay with their mothers until she dies.

Like orca whales, said Flint in a thoughtful voice.

Is it? I said.

He nodded. And I don’t think it would work for human men.

Why do you say that? I said.

Because that isn’t how men are wired, he said. "Men do everything that they do in order to provide for these so-called responsibilities you think we want to flee from.