Page 3 of Burn Dragon Burn
Slipping out of her leather jacket and letting it drop into the antique telephone table in the hallway, she called out, “Hello! Nona!”
“In here, Donatella,” came her quick reply as clear as a bell and just as strong as the lady herself.
Walking over the threshold of the library, her grandmother’s favorite spot in the house and absolutely the most lived in, Nat went straight to the lace-covered table sitting in front of the five floor-to-ceiling bowed windows that gave Nona a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the neighborhood. Taking the chair that had been hers for as long as she could remember, she handed her grandmother her cup then sat back with a sigh of relief.
Sipping her white chocolate mocha from the long green straw, Nona looked through the thin lenses of her red and black cat-eye-framed glasses – blasted woman still had great eyesight – with a knowing expression. Raising her eyebrows when Nat looked away, the older woman set her coffee on the table and just as blunt as she always was, asked, “So, are you gonna tell me about the girl, your dreams, or the man in those dreams, first?”
2
“Yes, I know what I’m doing. No, I don’t need you stepping and muckin’ it up. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
Rafe held the phone away from his ear as he scratched at the three-day’s worth of stubble on his chin. Glad his brother, Gil had called to bitch and moan instead of using their telepathy, Rafe sat down behind his desk and put the phone back to his ear just in time to hear, “You know you have to go in soft. Be nice. No grumpin’ or growlin’.”
“Yes, Gil.”
“You’re a Fed, they’re Local. There’s no love lost.”
“Yes, Gil. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say after your last cock-up, I’m just covering all my bases.”
“I did not ‘cock-up’. I did what I was sent to do – rescue three POWs from a fuckin’ hole in the sand.”
“And blowing up an entire camp of insurgents?”
“Just a happy coincidence.”
“Yeah, well the DOD didn’t see it that way. They wanted to take at least a couple alive for questioning.”
“And…I made that happen to…kinda.”
“If you consider the guy was burnt over forty-percent of his body and it took three months for him to wake up a success then…”
“If I say yes, will you shut up and move on?” Rafe cut in, biting the inside of his cheek not to laugh out loud when his older brother growled, “Damn you.”
Pulling up his email while his brother went back to giving orders, Rafe’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he got a look at the female detective he would be meeting later that day. Sure, the picture was out of focus and farther away than he’d like, but her long dark hair laying softly on the back of her leather coat and the hard set of her shoulders told him she was tough, intelligent, and able to stand her ground.
“Are you listening to me, Rafe? I swear to the Heavens…”
“Yes, I am listening. You’ve only repeated yourself five times. Can you let it go? I promise, I’ll do as I’m told and call for backup if there’s any sign that these murders have a supernatural element, okay?”
“Alright.”
Gil sounded less than thrilled, but since he was in the mountains helping find a Wendigo who’d gone off the deep end, there wasn’t much he could do. Almost thirty years ago when they’d started the DPA – Dragon Protection Agency – with three of their other brethren - none of them could’ve imagined how many cases they would end up being called in to work.
Only very few, very high-ranking officials in the government, specifically the CIA and the DOD, knew of their existence and more importantly, knewwhatthey really were. Rafe had always thought their name was funny and the acronym even funnier. But it was essential to their cover that they be able to say DPA, flash official credentials, and that all important gold badge to the local LEO’s – law enforcement officers – when they were sent in.
Most of the time, the cases they were called in on did actually have a paranormal element that only the Director was aware of, just like the one he was part of in Iraq. Gil knew, just like Abe, Ben, and Oz – the other members of DPA – that Rafe had no choice. If he hadn’t blown that bunker an entire pack of newly turned werehyenas would’ve emerged that very evening and torn every human for a hundred miles from limb to limb.
When Gil said nothing else, just sat on the line breathing, Rafe asked, “Anything else?”
“I just don’t like any of us goin’ on a job like this without backup.”
“Then I suggest you find a sixth member.”
“Yeah, I keep thinkin’ I will, but…”
“But, you’re crazy neurotic with control issues and the need to be the boss twenty-four seven and you haven’t found anyone you know or like well enough, and,” Rafe took an exaggerated deep breath. “You promised yourself when we broke off from the Clans all those centuries ago that you would never go back, but now, you’re wondering if you should.”