Fire and Ash: Rise of the Dragons Trilogy, #1

By N. R. Hairston

A chance encounter with a group of powerful beings leaves private investigator Alisa reeling from the knowledge that she is something…other. Can she use her newly discovered abilities to fight an ancient enemy bent on destroying the world as she knows it? Or will she succumb to the fire before she learns to control her "other" nature? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fire Ink Media
• Release date: Oct 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9798201635503

Book preview

Fire and Ash

Rise of the Dragons Trilogy Book One

N. R. Hairston

Copyright © 2017 by N.R. Hairston All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Design by Miblart

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OTHER TITLES BY N. R. Hairston

Magic and Mischief Series

A Magical Reckoning, Book One

A Symptom of Magic, Book Two

A Victim of Magic, Book Three

Sun Cursed

Cursed Magic, Book One

Savage Magic, Book Two

Lethal Magic, Book Three

World Breaker

Rogue Magic, Book One

Bloody Magic, Book Two

Battle Magic, Book Three

World Breaker Beginnings (Novellas set before the events in Rogue Magic, though you don’t have to read one to read the other.) Read this series for free when you join my mailing list, here.

Rebel Magic, Book One

Stolen Magic, Book Two

Crooked Magic, Book Three

Dirty Magic, Book Four

Feral Magic, Book Five

Lawless Magic, Book Six 

Rise of the Dragons

Fire and Ash, Book One

Smoke and Flame, Book Two

Dust and Cinder, Book Three

Atina and Ridge

We Got Powers Too, Book One

We Wreak Havoc Too, Book Two

We Got Witches Too, Book Three

Rebel Writers Anthologies

Street Spells

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Author Note

Other Titles by N. R. Hairston

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Fire and Ash

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A chance encounter with a group of powerful beings leaves private investigator Alisa reeling from the knowledge that she is something...other. Can she use her newly discovered abilities to fight an ancient enemy bent on destroying the world as she knows it? Or will she succumb to the fire before she learns to control her other nature? 

Chapter 1

D epending on what you tell me I’ll probably kill him. That’s a joke, don’t go running to the cops, Alisa. May I call you Alisa? I need your help on this. 

I looked at the tall redheaded woman standing before me and nodded. I didn’t mind her using my first name. She put a hand on her slim waist. The other hand dangled a cigarette.

It was her face, though. It carried a deep scowl. She was clearly upset and had been for some time.

I tried to look neutral. Mentally, I readied myself to hear this woman’s tale of woe.

A small pain in my fingers alerted me that I was gripping my ballpoint too tightly. I let it go, flexing my hand in the process.

Like all the rest, I already knew what she wanted, could probably speak her next words verbatim if she let me.

I cued up my laptop and spread some papers around on my desk, trying to appear professional even though I was feeling anything but.

It was always the same. Over the last couple of years, the script hadn’t changed much, only the players. Cheating spouses, dishonest business partners, false insurance claims... I’d seen it all and to be honest, I was tired. When I’d first gotten into this business eight years ago, I’d been an excited newbie, eager to excel in a new field. Now? Now I was just done.

My bank account was also done, and didn’t that beat all? I was down to my last dollar and with an empty fridge and rent due in three days, I couldn’t afford not to take this case.

There were other options, but I’d rather eat hot coals than go to my father with my tail between my legs asking for his help. I was twenty-seven years old, yet he still thought he could make decisions for me.

He’d never approved of me becoming a private detective, thought I’d be better suited as a teacher or nurse. He was a stern man, a big name in this city.

When I’d decided to get my PI license, only one person had been brave enough to let me train under them. I smiled when I thought of Reid. He’d taken a chance on me, and for that, I’d always be grateful.

Still, that didn’t help me now. I loved the PI business, but for the moment, I needed a break. Hot leads and anonymous tips no longer made my adrenaline rush and my heart pound.

Now I just groaned and wished I’d passed on the case.

Reid called it burnout. He’d often lectured me on the importance of being able to distance oneself from the case. I’d never learned that lesson and somewhere along the path, I’d lost my way.

In the end it didn’t matter. Whether it was burnout or a simple weariness with the business, I knew without doubt this would be my last case for a while.

What would I do for money in the meantime? That was the real question.

I cleared my throat, realizing I still had a client in front of me. I smiled at her, then encouraged her to continue. Tell me the facts.

It was an effort to keep the fatigue from my voice, but this lady had come to me for help, and she deserved my best. So, I pushed away my misgivings and promised to give this case my all.

My client, a Mrs. Melinda Handler, didn’t miss a beat. She paced the room, ticking off a list of things that’d caused her suspicion. Overtime at work that’s not really overtime. I call his cell phone, no answer. Then I call the office. Still no answer.

She put fire to her cigarette. This was a smoke-free office, but because of the rattled look on her face, I decided to let it go. She blew a long line of smoke out of her mouth, then continued with her story.

A strain of annoyance crept into her voice. If everyone has to work overtime, wouldn’t someone be there to answer the damn phones?

I continued to take notes but made no move to interrupt. I knew she probably had a lot more to say.

She blew more smoke out of her mouth then finally took a seat in one of the brown office chairs in front of my desk. Strange phone calls in the middle of the night. When I answer, they hang up. When he answers, it’s whispers in the bathroom, or backyard.

She shook her head, eyes filled with rage. Leave it to a man to think you’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of you, huh? 

I ignored that and read over the information she’d given me so far. The smoke from her cigarette drifted my way, and I stifled a cough, hating the way it smelled. She needed to put it out.

To do something with my hands, I began typing her information into a spreadsheet on my laptop. The late-night phone calls and unaccounted-for overtime did seem suspicious.

Still, one thing I’d learned in my eight years as a PI... Never jump to conclusions.

Things were rarely as they appeared. Her husband did seem to have a secret, but that could be anything from him arranging a surprise birthday party for her, to planning a secret vacation for their anniversary. Innocent until proven guilty, right?

I continued to type. There was no need to speculate. I’d find out what I needed once I got started on the case. I require a five-hundred-dollar retainer. My fee is fifty dollars an hour plus expenses. 

I hoped she had it. If she did, then I could eat something besides a peanut butter and jelly sandwich tonight, and I’d be able to put a dent in my rent.

I owed fifteen hundred, but maybe my landlord would work with me if I gave him some money.

He wanted the whole thing upfront. But who could turn down four hundred dollars being brandished in their face? As for the other hundred, well a girl had to eat.

Melinda reached into her purse and pulled out a thick white envelope. She smiled like she’d done something great, then put the cigarette out on the corner of my desk.

I gritted my teeth. The smoke and ashes made a distinctive mark on my mahogany. I could feel my nostrils flaring. It took everything in me to keep from reprimanding the other lady. My office was a source of pride for me. My only thing of value. 

It was just the way I liked it. It represented me, who I saw myself as. The walls were a warm burgundy, the carpet a plush maroon, which I thought offered a nice contrast.

My desk was set against the back wall, with the front door to the right and a standard size office window to my left.

No pictures hung on my walls, only my state license. It was a comfortable space. At one hundred seventy square feet, my office was just the size I needed it to be and not a bit more.

I’d never been the best in the housekeeping department, but I made an effort here, and it showed. No dust covered my desk, and I emptied the trash and ran the vacuum every night before I went home.

If only I could keep that same diligence once I left here. My house looked like a hurricane had run through it. But at the office, I tried to be as neat as I could.

That’s why her putting her cig out on my desk bothered me so much. That, and the smell from a cigarette always seemed to linger long after the smoke was gone. It wasn’t a pleasant scent. Not to me, anyway.

Melinda, for her part, seemed oblivious to the frown on my face. She pointed to the envelope. Here’s five thousand to start. Sufficient enough for you?

I swallowed hard and tried not to blink. A queasy feeling hit me in the gut. That was a lot of money. It’d pay my rent up for a few months, allow me to get some groceries, and do a few extra things if I needed.

That was all good, but because of how disconnected I’d been feeling from the job lately, I wasn’t sure I was up to earning it. If not, I’d give it back. No way around it. 

Melinda pulled out a much larger manila envelope and plopped it on my desk. I’d asked her to bring as much information as she could gather. I assumed this was it. I laid it beside the envelope with the money and listened to what she had to say. 

She ticked off a list with her fingers, her cherry nails looking elegant and freshly done. Here’s some photos, work information, places he likes to hang out, list of friends, you know, all the stuff you said you needed.

I opened the envelope and picked up one of the pictures of Brad Handler. He was a handsome man. He had a strong chin, deep-set brown eyes, and brown hair with hints of gray around his temple. It gave him a distinguished look.

I put the photo down and turned back to my client. How long have you two been married? While I waited for an answer, I typed his name into the spreadsheet, then pulled out a folder and wrote it on the tab. 

Melinda’s eyes flashed with hurt, then she cleared her throat, and they turned to steel. Five years. Can you believe the nerve? We were together three years before we said, I do.

She lit up another