Chapter 1 #2
Trolhorne circled around the front bumper, running a hand over the hood. “If you’re taking volunteers for ride-alongs to test this beauty’s capabilities, sign me up. Someone needs to ensure the suspension can handle a real war… er, passenger.”
“I’ll add your name to the list.” He didn’t mention that the name of that particular list was Things That Will Never Happen.
“Excellent.” Trolhorne slapped the hood loud enough to startle several people nearby.
Wolcz, the cave dragon, stepped closer, intercepting Tanner as he stepped toward the sidewalk.
Unlike his red-headed companion, Wolcz was more contained, with iron-gray hair, slate-gray eyes, and hiking boots that probably cost more than Tanner cared to think about.
Despite being the newest elected member of the Town Council, Wolcz seemed to believe his opinion mattered more than most.
He gestured toward the SUV. “A well-deserved honor, Sheriff.” His voice dropped to a more confidential tone. “I have a new draft of the referendum we discussed.”
“Referendum?” It took Tanner a moment to recall being buttonholed during a break at the last town council session. He’d thought Wolcz wanted his endorsement for his re-election campaign. “Oh, sure, the referendum.”
Wolcz’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You know, the annual cap on asylum recipients.” He frowned. “Surely you agree that the town’s open-door policy is a security nightmare. I would like your professional opinion on some of the wording.”
Tanner knew that game. His “review” would be touted as a tacit endorsement. He worked hard to keep the disgust off his face. Both Wolcz and Trolhorne had been refugees who were granted asylum. Now that they’d survived and thrived, they wanted to shut the door behind them.
“My professional opinion isn’t germane,” Tanner said. “The sheriff department’s job is to enforce the laws, not write them.”
Wolcz’s expression hardened. “After what nearly happened to Fort LeBlanc — twice! — you, of all people, should understand the risks from outsiders.”
“Again, not my call.” Tanner gave Wolcz a tight smile, letting a trickle of thunderbird gold bleed into his eyes. “Enjoy the party.” He didn’t even feel bad when Wolcz flinched as he moved past them. Wind gods save him from politicians.
He moved to the sidewalk in front of the sheriff station’s lobby doors and turned to look at the dragons, who were now arguing with one another.
One of these days, he’d have to show them that he did more than issue tickets to tourists and handle wedding reception riots.
But it could wait until after the holidays.
Twilight surrendered to night, and the town’s illumination flared to life.
Thousands of LEDs strung through the trees of the town square ignited, wrapping the trunks in bands of red, green, white, and yellow.
Nearly every home in town had some sort of light display, adding lumens to the night.
Above, the magical shield that hid Kotoyeesinay from the world shimmered faintly.
Those with magical sight could see a ripple of distortion against the approaching, snow-laden clouds.
Without that powerful and complex shield, the town’s light show would probably be visible from the International Space Station.
Tanner drew a deep breath through his nose, seeking the moist scent of the coming snow to soothe his irritable inner thunderbird.
Instead, he got a whiff of the briny tang of salty ocean spray, wet sand, and Arctic ice.
He stopped dead, his head snapping up, nostrils flaring as he sent his senses up to the wind. The scent was gone with his next breath. Familiar fir, wind, and mulled cider smells returned as if they’d never left.
The barometric pressure was dropping like a stone. The storm was close now. Maybe that had brought the odd scent. The static charge in the air pulled at him, a magnetic lure begging him to shift, to spread his twenty-foot wings and fly skyward to rumble with the thunder.
He rubbed the center of his chest, trying to soothe the ache. He hadn’t shifted in weeks. Tonight, he promised the restless ancient avian with whom he shared a soul. Right after I get off duty.
He took another breath, searching for that phantom ocean scent again, but the wind only brought the smell of pine and snow.
Out of nowhere, a shattering scream and a massive, dark shape plummeted from the sky like a meteor.
It bounced off the stone tower of the Town Hall, then slammed into the street.
Metal shrieked, glass exploded, and the pristine, electric-blue Sheriff 100 was instantly flattened into a lump of twisted steel.
Tanner was moving before the debris settled, his mind cataloging the threat.
Lying amidst the ruins of his two-minute-old SUV was a dragon—a jumble of mottled gray scales the size of a private jet.
But it wasn’t attacking. One wing bent at a sickening angle, and dark coppery-brown blood oozed from deep gouges on its head and flank.
The air reeked of antifreeze and scorched flesh.
Enough steam arose from the wreckage to create a heat mirage.
“It went right through!” Pendragor appeared on the other side of the wreck, his lavender face angry, his purple-and-gold feather-hair standing on end.
The fairy enforcer held his combat wand ready, scanning the clouds.
“It passed through the town shield like it wasn’t even there!
No alarms, no resistance. That’s impossible. ”
Before Tanner could answer, the dragon convulsed.
The massive gray form shimmered with obscuring magic that coalesced into a human shape sprawled in the wreckage of the roof.
A blonde-hared woman, lying on her side.
Naked, bloody, and battered. The shift, usually a cure for minor wounds, hadn’t touched the worst of her injuries.
Burns marred her pale skin, slashes on her thigh and shoulder oozed red, and her left arm was bent where it shouldn’t be.
Despite the steam, the woman began shivering.
Tanner vaulted the crushed fender. He stripped off his winter jacket and draped it over her.
As he checked for a pulse at her neck, a jolt of static electricity snapped against his fingertips, so strong it nearly numbed his hand.
When Pendragor moved closer with angry suspicion on his face, Tanner’s inner thunderbird screamed defiance, demanding to shield her, protect her.
“Osborne!” Tanner barked. “Get Denise Voski. Now!”
Osborne was already working his phone. “On it.”
“She breached the shield,” Pendragor hissed, hovering at the edge of the wreckage. The fairy’s amethyst eyes narrowed on the unconscious woman. “She’s a high-level threat. We need to isolate her in the Cage until we know how she bypassed our defenses. If she wakes up and shifts again—”
“No.” The word came out sharp and short.
Tanner glared at the volatile fairy and was shocked by his own sudden, violent urge to knock Pendragor into next week for suggesting they send the woman to the town’s secure demesne for dangerous criminals.
He forced his breathing to even out, pushing his thunderbird into quiescence.
He needed to be the Sheriff that dealt with facts, not the avian that lived on instinct.
Looking down at her, seeing her uneven, shallow breaths, he couldn’t send her away.
“She’s broken, Pendragor. She’s no threat.” Tanner crouched down to see where the blood caking her short blond hair was coming from. The ocean spray scent hit him again, filling his head, drowning everything else. “I’ll put her in the station’s jail. It’s secure. Denise can treat her there.”
“This is a mistake,” Pendragor warned, though he lowered his wand. “She’s dangerous.”
“So are we.” He let thunderbird gold into his eyes for a moment to show Pendragor he wasn’t ignoring the threat.
He adjusted the coat to cover her chest and help her conserve warmth.
Once Denise said the stranger could be moved, he’d carry her to the station.
He told himself he was keeping a potential enemy close for interrogation, nothing more.
But as he waited, the approaching storm in the sky was drowned out by the thunder rolling through his blood.