Part 7 (1/2)

Drake and Nash had met before, and neither had thought much of the other then. They were too much alike, dragon and man, both with sticks up their a.s.ses.

Drake's naked state didn't faze Nash. Nash had once been the biggest Unbeliever in Hopi County, but during the past year or so, he'd become used to seeing grown men standing around unashamedly nude after they'd s.h.i.+fted. He held his shotgun steady, looking unwaveringly down its barrel at Drake.

”Whatever is going on here, you don't belong,” Nash said in a voice as sharp as winter wind. ”Take yourself back to your big house in New Mexico, and don't interfere in our business.”

Colby barked a laugh. ”Oh hey, I'm enjoying this.”

”You too,” Nash said. ”I don't mind arresting both of you, so you can leave, or you can spend the night in my lockup.”

”I want the Nightwalker.” Drake's body was covered in bruises and burn marks, but the fight hadn't defeated him. ”He has stolen from us.”

Mick said firmly, ”And I'll question him about it.” He was bruised from the fight as well, but barely breathing hard. ”I told you, if he's stolen from the dragon compound, I'll bring back whatever he's taken.”

Drake did not like that at all. The stick wedged even higher in his b.u.t.t, and his dark eyes went ice cold. Usually, Drake enjoyed letting minions do work for him-not that Mick was in any way a minion to Drake-and the fact that he didn't want to delegate meant that Drake wasn't too pleased for Mick to find out what Ansel had taken.

Drake gave Mick an evil stare. ”If he has it, you bring it to me. No one else. Understand?”

”I'll let you know what I find out,” Mick said evenly.

Drake had to be satisfied with that. He turned his back on us and walked away, no goodbyes, no parting shots. His body faded into darkness, and from that darkness, a black dragon rose into the sky.

Colby watched him go then turned back to me. ”See you, Janet.” He balled his fists and tapped them to mine. ”Don't be a stranger. Please.” He jogged down the east side of the railroad bed in Drake's wake, shrouded himself in darkness, then shot into the air as soon as he became dragon, winging his way after Drake. He was spellbound to Drake and the dragon compound by magic-he couldn't simply fly off in the other direction.

Nash shouldered his shotgun. ”Where is Ansel?” he asked Mick. ”If he did take something, he'll have to relinquish it.”

I didn't answer, preferring Mick and me to take care of this, but Elena said, ”He's in his room in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He's hiding there.”

”Elena,” I said in dismay. ”I thought he was under your protection.”

”He is.” Elena raised her hand again, and the magical barrier she'd put around the hotel receded and vanished. ”But only from the Firewalkers. I don't like Firewalkers, Mick excepted.

I also don't like thieves. Or Nightwalkers.”

She started to walk away, but I stepped in front of her, a dangerous thing to do. ”If you could protect against the flames, why didn't you do it in the first place?”

”I didn't get a barrier in place in time when the dragon first flamed it,” she said, studying me calmly. ”I was taken by surprise. And it's a defensive sh.e.l.l, not a fire extinguisher. My magic isn't all-encompa.s.sing.”

Finished, Elena stepped around me, climbed back down the bank and walked away. The saloon fire was out now, defeated by more mundane means, white smoke drifting into the darkness.

”Nash,” I began.

Nash turned his gray-eyed stare at me. ”Don't p.i.s.s me off, Janet. I've had a h.e.l.l of a day, and it ends with me hearing your hotel is on fire.”

”We took care of it,” I said.

Nash studied the smoldering remains of my saloon. ”Sure, I can see that. Now, I'm going in there to talk to Ansel.”

Mick stepped in front of him. ”I'd rather you didn't.”

Nash had come to respect Mick, one of the few people he did respect, but he didn't waver.

”I had a woman in my office today, hysterically claiming that her sister had been abducted and killed by a vampire. Now your dragon friend wants a piece of your Nightwalker, not to mention the dragon tries to burn him out. All that makes it my business.” Mick didn't move. ”If Ansel has stolen any dragon secrets, I'll have to ask you to be bound to silence. There are things we can't afford to have humans know.”

”I'll think about it.” Nash moved around him, his badge glinting in the starlight, and headed for the hotel without waiting for us.

I didn't like any of this, but no one had asked my opinion. My hotel had gotten fried, and Ansel was there on my sufferance, but did my dragon boyfriend or pain-in-my-a.s.s sheriff think of any of that?

Ahead of us, Nash broke into a run. After he paused step, Mick did too.

I didn't see what had startled them, but I figured it couldn't be good, so I hurried after them.

Mick could run like an Olympic sprinter, and he pa.s.sed Nash and reached the hotel first, me panting to catch up.

A crossbow bolt flew out of the darkness at the back door and thunked into Mick's chest.

Mick flinched from the blow but didn't stop. I doubled my efforts and reached Mick in time to see him pull the long bolt from his chest and drop the blood-coated thing on the ground.

The slayer who'd fired it stared at Mick in amazement, then he found Nash's shotgun in his face. ”Drop it,” Nash said in clipped tones.

The crossbow followed the bolt to the dirt. The slayer-not Rory, but a new guy-raised his hands, then scowled when Nash twisted his arms behind his back and clipped handcuffs onto his wrists.

”What are you doing?” the slayer asked in amazement.

”Arresting you for a.s.sault with a deadly weapon,” Nash said.

”I didn't hurt the guy.” He jerked his chin at Mick who still stood upright, in spite of the bloodstained hole in his T-s.h.i.+rt.

”It went pretty deep, actually,” Mick said. ”I have to go.” I knew what he meant. Mick could withstand bad injuries, but only if he turned into a dragon to heal himself.

Without further word, Mick kissed the top of my head and walked away from us, disappearing into the desert. I watched worriedly, but he vanished almost at once, and I turned my attention back to the slayer.

”There's a Nightwalker in there,” the slayer said. ”Do you understand what that means? A vampire. He'll suck you dry and crush your bones. You want him to get his teeth into this little lady here? He'll rape her before he drains her. That's what they do.”

”She can handle herself,” Nash said dryly. ”a.s.sault and attempted murder are a.s.sault and attempted murder. I don't give a c.r.a.p whether it's against a human being, a Nightwalker, or something in between. You have the right to a defense attorney. Good luck finding one who believes vampires are real.”

The slayer looked outraged, as though he thought Nash should be on his side. Maybe law-enforcement officials elsewhere-the ones who believed in the supernatural, that is-did a.s.sist slayers, but this was Nash. He ran his county like Captain Bligh of the Bounty, and Nash hated vigilantes.

Nash half pushed, half dragged the slayer across the gravel to his waiting SUV and shoved him into the back. Then he perched in the driver's seat to call in the arrest or whatever, leaving me relatively alone.

The slayer had left chalk marks on the doorframe, advertising his intent. I rubbed them off and went inside, leaving the door unlocked for Mick's return.

The stench of burned saloon was sharp, but the hall and my private rooms held no smoke.

Maybe Elena's s.h.i.+eld had kept out the smoke, maybe the solid wall between the saloon and hotel had. Whichever, I was grateful.

I went into the bathroom and washed my hands, surprised but thankful the water was still on. The saloon ran on a different set of pipes, but I wouldn't know the extent of the plumbing damage until Fremont went over it.

The mirror reflected my face smeared with dirt and blood, a hunk of hair singed where I hadn't leapt away from Drake and Mick's fire battle fast enough.