To Match A Dragon’s Fire (Sulfur & Spice #1)

11

Ember

Cheap Shots

“Those people aren’t welcoming to outsiders,” I mocked the arrogant jerk’s words as I loaded another magazine with bullets.

I knew that better than anyone. I’d grown up here—thank you very much—and those people weren’t even welcoming to their own half the time.

But I was willing to deal with the drama because the way he’d spoken yesterday let me know he had something to hide.

He should be scared of the town and what was going to happen, because when I came back with the sheriff, his butt was getting the boot.

It was such a nice ass too.

Sucked that he was a trespasser.

I finished loading the gun and gathered a bag of supplies just in case something happened.

We were fifteen miles outside of Christmas on dirt roads with no cell service and no one to call anyway if I got a flat.

So naturally, I was going by myself .

“Don’t touch Auntie Em’s bullets,” Willow scolded her daughter, glaring at me. “Never thought I’d have to say that.”

“But I was counting them,” Harper whined.

“She was working on math. Let the child learn.” I shouldered my backpack and handed the box back to Harper. She slipped under the table to resume her lessons.

Willow wrung her hands as she followed me to the door. “If I’d have known I’d be raising her in an armory, I’d have taught her more about guns.”

“She’s learning now, right Harp?” I asked.

“Eleven, twelve, fourteen, fifteen…”

I cringed. “Maybe teach her numbers first.”

“She just skips over thirteen sometimes.” Willow rolled her eyes. “But while we’re on the topic leaving things out, tell me again why you have to do this alone.”

I didn’t really have a good explanation besides not wanting Riley and Willow to witness me running into someone who’d be sure to dredge up the past.

Those two had been my rock for so long. I didn’t want to burden them with my bullshit again. It was bad enough that I’d put off coming back here for much longer than they’d wanted to.

Now look at the mess we were in––stuck with a squatter who built a whole freaking fortress on my front lawn.

“It’s safer for you and Harper to stay out here,” I explained, sounding a lot like Kieran did when he’d tried to warn me off my own hometown.

It wasn’t like the town itself was dangerous.

I’d survived the rumor mill before .

“If it’s not safe out there, we should come with you.” Willow was like a dog with a bone, not letting this go.

“No.” I stood my ground on this one.

“Come on, Em.” Willow sighed. “You’re making me feel useless. Let us help. We were the ones who dragged you back here. Don’t go face him alone.”

“I’m not scared of him.” It was a partial lie. I was somewhat afraid of what I’d do if I ever came face to face with my ex-husband again, but I liked to believe I’d be the bigger person and keep my head high as I walked away. “I need to do this, alone, for me.”

“You’re always saying that.” Tears sprung to Willow’s eyes. “Why can’t I help you out?”

“Stop it.” I wrapped my arms around her. “You always help…” I panicked as she sobbed, trying to remember specific times. “Remember Jaxon?”

“The salmon fishing guide who lied to you about going bankrupt?” Willow reared back and wiped her nose with her thumb. “What about him?”

“You let me stay on your couch for three weeks after the breakup while you were pregnant and vomiting everywhere.” I laughed to myself, thinking of those miserable couple of months.

No wonder I kept swearing off men.

I sure knew how to pick the losers.

“You cleaned my bathrooms and—”

“Remember the fire at Eastern Terrance,” I cut her off before she could switch this argument in her favor. The lightness in my voice felt fake.

Talking about my past was really depressing.

“I can’t believe you didn’t sue the landlord for ignoring all those maintenance tickets you put in.” Willow dried her eyes. Mama bear was coming up to bat. Her protective spark returned.

I’d take that over crying any day.

“Your neighbor could’ve died in there.” Willow’s gaze went to the burn scars on my arm.

I hid them behind my back, redirecting, “You showed up with bags of clothes and pots and pans.”

“You lost everything.” Her bottom lip trembled. “The least I could do was donate some old, leftover—”

“How long did it take you to remove all the tags and scuff the pans up a bit?” It was something I’d never talked about, but I wasn’t above playing the card now if it made Willow stop feeling like she owed me something.

Her face flushed as she looked around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” I burst out laughing.

“Fine.” She stomped her foot on the ground. “But you wouldn’t have accepted the help unless you thought you weren’t bothering anyone, which is exactly what you’re doing now.”

“I don’t do that,” I said.

Riley leaned her head out the open front window. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay then. If you want to help, you can both stay here and make sure the jerk doesn’t mess up anything else on my land while I’m gone.” That seemed like a reasonable enough compromise.

“What do we do if you don’t come back?” Willow and her very valid fears would be the death of me. I crossed my fingers, trying to ward off bad luck .

“I’ll be back in time for dinner,” I reassured her. “And if the trespasser tries anything, feel free to shoot him.”

I winked at Riley, knowing that despite everything she’d been through, she was great in a crisis. My dad’s rifle was cleaned and ready, hanging above the sofa on its old rack.

“Will do.” Riley smiled as if she very much liked the idea of murdering someone today.

I didn’t blame her.

∞

The inside of my cheek was sore from where I’d been biting it. I drove the Bronco over the rough terrain, leaving a cloud of dust on the dirt road behind me. Every mile away from the cabin tightened the knot in my stomach.

I really didn’t want to do this.

Twelve years wasn’t much time at all—especially for a town as small as Christmas.

With a population of less than two hundred, it wasn’t more than a blip on a desert map. Everyone knew everyone and they sure knew how to pick their favorites.

I may have been the rodeo darling, but Tony Roberts was quarterback and prom king. Despite the divorce being his fault, he’d ended up with the town as his.

Tony had more family here and he’d chosen to move back into their loving embrace.

That made me the villain.

The hero always comes home and gets to tell the story their way .

It didn’t help that I’d purposefully stayed away to finish college and try to work off the debt he’d left me with. Then my dad died. With the guilt I felt at his passing, it hurt too much to visit.

I’d lost my husband, my only blood family, and my optimistic outlook on life all within two years.

The people I’d called friends didn’t even bother reaching out to check on me. It was like leaving had erased me from their minds.

Riley and Willow were my family now. But they didn’t understand how awful it was to watch the people who once swore they loved you, laugh at you behind your back.

I glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror, barely recognizing myself. It was still shocking to see the new wrinkles that had formed every time I looked. Sometimes I forgot I was me.

I still have it, though. I gave myself an encouraging nod.

Because I did look good despite… everything.

Even if I’d gained a few pounds and had drier skin and didn’t smile as much as I used to.

But I was old enough to not give a shit. I still owned land here. This was still my town.

And my property taxes went to paying the sheriff’s salary so whoever it was, they could do me a favor and get that trespasser out of there.

A teeny, tiny voice in my head that sounded a lot like Willow when we could drag her out to girl’s night said I might be acting a little rash. It wasn’t like we had to run the entire property on our own. There was plenty of land to go around.

The generations speaking through my last name stomped that weak voice out .

It was my land and he was an intruder.

A sexy, rugged intruder, which was the worst possible kind.

The other voice said…

Great. You’re hearing voices now.

I ignored whatever fresh mental breakdown I was heading to, favoring the scenic drive instead.

Everything was going to be fine. I’d slip into town, meet the new sheriff, get the law to help me out, and hopefully do it all without running into anyone I used to know.

The one-mile strip of Christmas’s main street loomed up ahead under the big, blue Oregon desert sky. The whole stretch of trailers and houses was as run down and barren as I remembered it.

But the sign warning me to turn around hadn’t always been there.

The next sign passed in a blur, something about tourists not being welcome and there was a detour marked ahead.

I frowned as I drove past Lennox Avenue, which led back to the state highway, where all the orange cones were pointing.

A pop louder than a gunshot rang through the cab of the Bronco.

Screaming, I gripped the wheel tight and kept my feet from slamming on the brakes. The back tires fishtailed as the rims ground on asphalt.

Sparks flew behind me.

The Bronco squealed as I gently eased onto the brakes.

I came to a stop in front of the wood sign with the handwritten letters: All violators will be shot .

My heart rejoined my body as I took a few deep breaths. Of course I’d blow a tire on the way here. Given how dramatic that little scene was, I’d probably blown at least two.

I pushed open the driver’s side door to check the damage, freezing when the flash of something metal in the distance caught my eye.

Duck. Instinct had me pulling my head down just as a warning shot took out my windshield.

Or at least I hoped it was a warning shot.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I fumbled with my pistol, brushing away the ice-like glass shards that covered me and the front seat.

“Don’t shoot!” I screamed.

Like whack-a-moles, the camouflage-colored shooters popped up from the brush and started creeping toward me.

I dropped to the ground and another shot sounded, clipping my side as I scrambled back to my feet. Pain lanced through me as I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out.

Those bastards shot me.

“I’m going to shoot back if you don’t stop shooting at me, you dicks!” I used my driver’s side door as cover, getting them into my sights. “I want to see the sheriff. Now! Tell him Ember Thurman is back.”

“I ain’t heard of no Ember before,” a rough voice said.

Great. Of all the times to not remember me, this was the last possible—

“That’s Willy’s kid, you dummy.” My savior sounded familiar, but it was hard to tell most of the male voices apart. “You guys hear that? Ember Thurman’s back.”

I relaxed my grip on my pistol and my hand fell to my side. Pain made me shiver and gasp. My shirt was soaking wet. “I need the sheriff.”

And probably an ambulance.

But they were still in position to shoot, so I wasn’t leaving the safety of my door until I knew where everyone stood.

“He’s on the other side of town. Ever since they called for martial law this weekend, we’ve been dealing with travelers trying to come this way.” The first man didn’t sound so suspicious anymore, but he hadn’t removed his face covering so I couldn’t get a good look.

White spots were dancing in my vision anyway. “Martial law?”

“Didn’t you hear the news?” I knew that voice. Fergus pulled his neck gaiter down so I could see his yellowed grin. He was still missing that tooth that’d been knocked out in eighth grade. “All them protestors are getting out of control. You must’ve seen it when you were in the big city.”

He gave a little whistle. The same one they always did to describe the fancy, outside world so removed from here it wasn’t funny.

“Must’ve skipped my attention.” I swayed a little on my feet.

The pain was going numb now, and it was freezing cold. I clenched my jaw as I tucked my gun in my waistband, taking a chance as I lifted my hands. “I need some help. ”

“Seems everyone needs help these days.” One of the old men motioned to the others. They stayed in their positions despite Fergus walking toward me.

My childhood classmate gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m not sure Hillary will be okay with you asking for the sheriff.”

“And why is that?” I swallowed hard.

Please no.

“Tony got elected a few years ago. He’s the sheriff now,” Fergus said.

I was going to be sick.

It was just my luck that I’d come back to the town that was now literally run by my ex-husband.

Fate was a bitch.

“Please,” I said anyway, feeling lightheaded as more blood soaked my shirt. “There’s a man named Kieran who built a house on my land.”

“The government seized your ranch.” The old man behind Fergus spit on the ground. “He’s been there for years now. It ain’t yours anymore.”

This can’t be happening.

The radio at Fergus’s hip buzzed and I heard the voice I’d never wanted to hear again.

“Everything all right out there, deputy?”

Fergus was still grinning as he lifted the radio to his mouth. “You will not believe who the cat dragged home. Ember Thurman, as I live and breathe, has graced us with her presence again. Says she needs help.”

The silence seemed to stretch forever.

Blood drained from my face, spilling through my fingers as I gripped my gunshot wound.

This was all a bad dream .

I’d fallen asleep somewhere. I’d wake up soon on the side of the road and kick myself for dozing off. I closed my eyes and opened them, but reality was still the same.

“Tell that cunt to go home,” the voice on the radio cackled. “No one wants her here.”

He might as well have stabbed me in the heart. Again.

A shadow above blocked out the sun. Despite the chills racking my body, the desert heat intensified.

Hot wind blew in a vortex as a loud roar shook the earth, peppering the hunters in the field with dirt and dust.

I held tighter to my side as I looked up.

Black and red scales, the color of the blood oozing through my fingers, flashed above as the underbelly of some massive beast took over the sky.

It was too big to see in one glance, especially this close. I caught the gleam of a claw that seemed dipped in gold as it reached toward me.

I’ve officially lost my mind.

The world went black as darkness swallowed me whole.