A Damson Christmas

Liberty’s been hassling me again to talk to someone. I got a little rough when we arrested a supe criminal today. I've been pushing the edges of the “excessive force” laws a lot lately. Writing in here seemed to help let some of the stuff in my brain out, so I guess I should keep going.  I left off just before I confronted Tamara.

While I watched from behind a 2-way mirror, Jack gave Tamara a quick, delighted kiss on the cheek after the massive, swing off the feet hug. She blushed as he left, still grinning with happiness.

Tamara turned her back to the mirror as she stretched to get a CD of old Christmas music off a high shelf.

I wiped the tears out of my eyes, pasted on a smile and opened the mirror. I reached over her head for the CD just as she was looking around for a chair to drag over and stand on.

“Whoah, didn’t see you there!” Tamara chuckled. “You enjoy those secret passages way too much.”

I handed her the CD. Tam showed no sign of shame or concern that I might have seen her with Jack.

“Thanks, Dee. Being vertically challenged can be a pain,” she said, still grinning like a maniac. She was practically glowing.

I tried to smile back. “You’re sure in a good mood, Tam.”

Her grin faded a little. “And you look like someone just ran over your dog. What’s up, chica?”

“Knowing Rocky’s luck, it wouldn't surprise me.”

Tamara didn’t let me re-direct. She grabbed my hand dragged me over to a comfy little old-fashioned settee and said, “Something’s bugging you, big time. Spill.”

I had no idea what to say. “You first, and I promise I’ll follow. Tell me about the happy glowy face.”

Tamara had a dusky brown complexion as dark as mine, but still managed to pink a little on the cheeks. Her short dark hair fell forward, the blue streak touching her forehead, when she looked at the hardwood floor. “I’m sort of, in a relationship.”

“Is this recent?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.

“It’s someone I've known for a while, but we've just recently, …” she shrugged, with a crinkle-nosed grin. “Become more than just friends.”

I swallowed the big lump in my throat. “You seem happier than I've ever seen you.”

“I've been alone a long time,” she said. “Since before my tour.”

Tamara had been in the military, stationed in Afghanistan for four years before she became a firefighter. 

She’d been stateside for more than three years. “That’s a long time.” She was only twenty-six. She’d spent most of her adult life without anyone to love. I knew how she felt.

“It’s tough, you know, to find the right match, someone who really gets you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I blinked hard, determined not to cry. I could be an adult about this. “I’m happy for you both.”

Tamara squeezed my shoulder a little. “Thanks. Your turn now. What’s eating you?”

“I … I just … wanted you to know that, I’m happy for you, both of you. I already knew about it, and … it’s okay.”

“I got that already. But what’s bothering you?”

“That’s it. I can’t pretend you two being together like that doesn't bother me. But, I want you to be happy, so …” I shrugged and couldn't look her in the eyes. I was not going to cry. I refused to cry.

Tamara pulled away from me a little. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d have a problem with it.” She got up and put some distance between us. “I forget most of the time, that you’re a lot older than you seem. I guess I should have expected a woman in her sixties from a small town in Texas to react that way.” Her smile was wiped away.

“Hey, times haven’t changed that much.” How dare she bring my age into it. I might be older, but I’d still look twenty-three when she was covered in wrinkles. “I don’t know any woman alive who wouldn't have a problem with her best friend and her boyfriend hooking up.” The anger overwhelmed the hold I had on tears and one escaped. So much for being an adult about this. “I thought you were my friend!” I hurled at her and stormed out, slamming the door in her face as she stood there with her mouth hanging open. I had to get out before the tears got away from me completely.

Tamara chased after me. “Wait, Dee!”

I ignored her, ran blindly down the hall and slammed right into Jack.

He caught me by the shoulders before I could knock him down. “Hey, what’s wrong, partner?” Jack asked.

I snorted, and it turned into a sniffly sob. “Like I’m still your partner.”

“Huh?” Jack glanced over at Tamara, who had caught up with us. “What’s she talking about? What’s going on?”

Tamara blushed again, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “She thinks you and I are together.”

“Together how?”

“There’s no point in trying to hide it now, dammit.” I pulled free of Jack’s grip. “I saw you in there just a minute ago.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Like I saw you hugging Mark Novak without his shirt?”

“That wasn't what it looked like. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” He raised both eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. “This is pointless. Tam already told me you two are more than friends now.”

“Hang on, Dee,” Tamara said. “You totally misunderstood. It’s not Jack I’m involved with. It’s Jerica.”

“Jerica? Jerica Peters in dispatch?” I knew they were friends. Tam had been making all kinds of excuses to hang out with the shy, pretty dispatcher. “But she’s a girl.”

“I like girls,” Tamara said, with an amused smirk.

“What has that got to do with you and Jack? I've seen the way you two are together. You’re so much more touchy feely with him than with me.” What the heck did Jerica Peters have to do with anything?

Jack chuckled. “Dee, you’re being dense.”

Tamara put a hand on my arm, then pulled it back. “Look, you’re right about me acting different around you.”  She looked at her toes for a second, then back up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I like you, and I know you don’t swing that way, and I wouldn't do that to Jack anyhow, so …” She cleared her throat. “So I've been a little more reserved around you.”

“I don’t understand. What has that got to do with …?”

Tamara sighed and rolled her eyes a little. Then she grinned in Jack’s direction, and he nodded as if giving her permission.

Tamara went up on tiptoes and kissed me, right on the lips. “You’re a lot more my type than that pain in the rear.” She indicated Jack with a thumb.

I think I made this big OH thing with my mouth after she kissed me. I've never been kissed like that by a woman. Which was the point, clearly. It took an actual, physical kiss for me to finally get it.

Jack socked Tamara in the arm, playfully. “Hands off, princess. Try to kiss my girl again and I’ll taser you in the rear.”

Tamara shoved him back, chuckling. “You’ll try.”

I just stood there blinking for a few minutes as my world re-arranged itself in my brain. Eventually, I remembered to close my mouth. “Jerica Peters is really nice.”

The big, goofy grin that Tamara had been wearing earlier made a reappearance. “Yeah. She’s awesome. She’s going to introduce me to her family tomorrow. She’s Jewish like me, but her family has time off this time of year, so they do a big get-together on the 26^th.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.” I really was. I’d been hoping she’d find someone special, and she finally had. And it wasn't my Jack, naturally, because she wasn't even attracted to guys. “I’m a complete idiot.”

They both laughed at me.

“We love you anyway,” Jack said, and put an arm around my shoulders.

Tamara put an arm around my waist on the other side, apparently no longer shy about touching me, and they both walked me down to dinner, poking fun at me for being so slow on the uptake. Maybe being from a tiny Texas town had affected my outlook a little. I refused to think it had anything to do with my age. I’m still a teen the way dragons count things.

Christmas dinner was spectacular. I sat between the man I loved and my best friend, and smiled until my face hurt. All around me, my friends and family laughed and ate great food.

Liberty, at the other end of the table, thankfully, hesitated a little, looking at the magnificent spread of food. She inquired if the produce was locally grown. Ma crinkled her eyes and heaped sweet potatoes with pecans on the slender heroine’s plate. “It doesn't get much more local than my garden in the courtyard.” Catherine looked relieved and ate more than I would have thought she could hold.

Brad ate enough for four people, of course. He seemed a little quieter than usual, though. He’s always polite around Ma, but he seemed especially formal that day. He kept calling Alrek “sir” and Ma “maam.”

Donovan joined us about half way through, blinking sleepily with his dark hair ruffled in the back. Even groggy from several hours of nap, he still looked better than he did that morning.

Flynn and Donovan got along like a house on fire. Flynn had been trading the occasional jibe with Tamara and looking uncomfortable with so many supes. When Donovan finally joined us, Flynn found a kindred spirit. They spent half of dinner in their own little gripe session about having to regularly deal with supe opponents without the benefit of supe abilities.

Alrek was the new face at the table. He was family, sort of, but he was also a stranger. He told some interesting tales about his travels all over South America, and a fair amount of Canada and Alaska. He waxed a little nostalgic about northern Europe. He hadn’t been back to his homeland in more than a thousand years.

Ma seemed unusually reserved with Alrek. She treated him with her impeccably polite hospitality to a guest, but she didn’t warm up to him, at least not like she did to Mark Novak.

Donovan and Jack might treat the guy like he had leprosy, but Ma, once she’d accepted the former Georgian as no longer the enemy, practically smothered Knight with love. She knew a soul desperately in need of mothering when she saw it. She put extra helpings of food on his plate, patted his arm periodically, asked him about his health, called him “dear” and gave him the first slice of pie.

Novak, the world famous Protector, accustomed to having cameras and microphones shoved in his face, still blushed at all the extra attention. He made noises like he didn’t want Ma to go out of her way for him, but it was pretty obvious that he was soaking up the affection like the desert sand soaked up rain.

I soaked it up, too. It was possibly the happiest day of my life.

And it got even better that night.

I can’t write about that night yet. That night was too perfect. Too … special. It hurts just thinking about it. Maybe I’ll manage it some time. But not today.

D Dragon

For Friends and Family

Friends and Family

I just found my journal stuffed under my bed. I haven’t touched it in so long, almost a year now, that I had to brush a layer of dust off. What would I write in here? I eat, I sleep, I work, I train. I go through the motions. I try to act like everything’s okay, but it’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay again.

It’s funny. I read through the things that happened last year, and it’s like it happened to someone else. Someone … younger. As if one year can make such a huge difference. But it can. I didn’t realize. It can.

I started this whole journaling thing because it seemed to help. It was a way to get some of the swirling maddening thoughts and feelings trapped in my head out of my system. Catherine keeps telling me I should talk to someone. I can’t. I just can’t. But maybe I can write.

I left off right after Smoking Mirror’s goons kidnapped me. I’ll just go from there. Things were quiet for a while after that.

It was clear as glass by then that I really was the target of Austin’s new enemy. Smoking Mirror had some kind of personal grudge against me. Not my city. Me. My city was just collateral damage. I didn't know why, though. Not then.

After the kidnapping, Detective Long questioned the three prisoners with the skull tattoos.  They refused to say anything when he interrogated them, absolutely nothing, not one word, and one by one, they committed suicide as soon as they saw an opportunity. The lady who used too much lipstick was the last to die. Long had her in a padded cell in a straight jacket, and she still managed to strangle herself with her own braided hair.

Long told me to take some leave from work so the police could protect me more effectively, but I refused. 

"No way I'm going to risk losing my job again," I told him.

He rubbed his hand through his close-cropped brown hair. "Look, we're up against some kind of fanatic religious cult here. They're not going to just go away. If you don't cooperate, I might have to put you in protective custody."

"I'm a Protector, now. You can't just treat me like a helpless civilian," I told him. I even showed him the handy dandy badge Liberty gave me.

He sighed. "Technically, maybe. But you've got no powers now, and this "Smoking Mirror" knows it."

I crossed my arms. I just wasn't going to do it. I'd lost one job I loved because of superhero absences. I wasn't going to lose another one just because a bad guy MIGHT try to kidnap or kill me.

Detective Long's eyes narrowed a little. "You do realize that this guy's MO is to blow up buildings that either you're in, or that have a connection to you. Everywhere you go, you're a hazard to the people around you. What if he follows you to the firehouse?"

I swallowed. In my head, I saw a brief flash of the building where I worked suddenly reduced to a pile of rubble with the crushed bloody remnants of my friends buried inside it.

So, I took a couple weeks off. 

Everyone understood. After all, my whole crew had been there on that street corner when I got grabbed. And, I’d gotten the medal of valor before I even made it out of training by stopping a nuclear bombing. No one so much as questioned it. After all the flak I’d caught from Dexter, my old boss, it felt pretty weird to have the higher ups be so completely cool with superhero life related absences.

Donovan pasted himself to my side like a second skin. He even, wonder of wonders, made an uneasy truce with Mark Novak. White Knight spent every moment when he wasn't on duty at the fire house hanging around with me, in full armor with sword at his side and shield on his back. He tried to act like he was just being friendly, asking me questions about dragon stuff, but it was hardly subtle. Jack wasn't any keener than Donovan was on having Novak around so much, but he knew Knight would be handy if it came to a fight. So, he settled for treating the big shiny superhero in our living room as if he didn’t exist. Donovan pretty much did the same. Novak accepted that. Sadly, he seemed pretty used to being treated like a necessary evil.

Brad and Ma just went on about their business. Ma was worried, of course, but worrying was like breathing for her. It was nothing out of the ordinary. And Brad didn't even seem all that worried. I knew the big guy had my back, but he didn’t take any time off from his new job, and he didn’t stop heading out to clubs and music venues for a few beers and some dancing when it suited him.

For my part, I spent the whole two weeks jumping at shadows, wondering when Smoking Mirror would come after me again.

But he didn’t. The one thing we should have learned about the enemy was that he was very patient. He’d already spent most of a year just drawing me out, testing me, finding out what kind of person, hero, fighter, whatever I was.

Absolutely nothing happened for a month. I went back to work. Everyone started to relax. Except Floyd Donovan. He tried not to show it, but while everyone else became more and more certain that the enemy had moved on, or given up, Donovan became more and more certain that I was in serious danger.  While everyone else relaxed their vigilance, he looked more and more haggard and worried.

Detective Long thought Donovan had the right idea, but after a couple of weeks, he couldn't continue to justify the expense of a 24/7 police presence on my tail. So, the cops went back to their normal routines. I went back to my normal routine. Novak stopped following me around looking like he was waiting to throw himself in front of a bullet for me. And I stopped dropping into a Krav Maga defensive stance every time I saw someone with a tattoo or someone in a car looking at me, or when someone made a noise behind me that I wasn’t expecting.

Tamara told me she was proud of how my reflexes were improving, so I guess that was good.

Then it was almost Christmas, and I just wanted to feel normal again. So I went shopping. Jack and Tamara went with me. It was fun. We laughed and plotted what we were going to get for people, and acted like we didn’t have a care in the world. Just three besties on a shopping spree. We completely ignored Donovan, the tall, grim bodyguard dogging our steps, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week and would shoot anyone who looked at me funny.

We lucked out on shift timing at the fire house. Novak, Tamara, Jack and I all worked Christmas Eve, a full 24 hour shift, but then we were off on Christmas day and the day after. Everyone came to our house for Christmas. One nice thing about living in a castle, there’s plenty of space for a party. Novak didn’t have anywhere else to go, so when I told him he was invited, he came. Tamara did Christmas morning with her sister’s kids. Her two little nephews were five and seven, so Christmas morning was still magic to them. Then Tam headed to our place for Ma’s awesome Christmas dinner. Brad got the day off. Liberty had some charity appearances to do, but she made it back in time for dinner. I invited Detective Long, and Officer Flynn. Flynn came, but Long begged off to spend the day with his wife and kids. Who knew the guy was married?

I even invited Alrek. He was Agmund’s twin brother, which meant he was my great, great some-odd grand-uncle. And he was in town alone as far as I knew. He had no other family. I would have invited Jupiter Joe, but he’d flown home to his family a week before. It was in his contract, apparently, that he would always be home with his wife and kids at Christmas time.

For Novak, I thought about inviting Fafnir, who was at some Renaissance Faire that had just closed down in Louisiana. But Novak wouldn’t let me. He said he wasn’t ready to face the big red dragon out of legend who just happened to be his dad. He wanted to be the one to tell Fafnir about their relationship, so I hadn't breathed a word. That was between him and Fafnir. Christmas was a really emotionally charged time anyway. I could understand why dealing with his estranged father just then was too much.

I ordered Donovan to sleep. I mean, literally, ordered him. He’d been up watching the monitors all night, waiting expectantly for someone to come to get me, or plant bombs around the house or something. He’d been waiting, expectantly, watchfully for over a month. He looked like death warmed over.

The house filled up with guests, half of them supes, including Knight who followed me like a big shiny guard dog, and Brad who could rip most people’s limbs off, and I wasn’t planning on leaving the house all day. I dragged Donovan out of the security monitoring room to one of the guest rooms, shoved him on the bed and told him he wasn’t allowed to leave the room until dinner at the earliest. That was an order.

“I can’t protect you if I’m asleep,” Donovan said, jaw set stubbornly. His eyes were a vivid shade of pink, nicely set off by the purple smudges under them.

“No, you can’t. So, get some sleep now while I don’t need you.”

“You don’t ever think you need me,” he griped. It was an old complaint, but particularly bitter now.

I thought about Donovan shooting the man who had a .45 pointed at my head. I hated feeling helpless, and needing someone else to protect me. While I’d done the best I could to just move on with my life, I knew as well as he did that Smoking Mirror wasn’t done with me. And I was a normal now. Being human had its advantages, but knowing that someone powerful and cruel genuinely was out to get me made me miss being mostly bulletproof. Donovan shot me the first time we met. I barely noticed. Now, his gun and his trained, vigilant eyes might be the only thing between me and an ugly fate.

“I need you …” I hesitated, just long enough for him to hear what I couldn’t say. “I need you not to fall on your face and snore in the rice pudding.” I winked at him. “Ma worked hard on it.”

He snorted. “Fine.” I think he got what I was trying to tell him. His shoulders relaxed some and he started pulling off his cowboy boots. “Wake me when dinner’s ready.”

One important mission accomplished, I took the secret passage down through the closet to the study, since it was the shortest route. Vlad’s house is kind of a maze, but once you learn your way around, the extra passages are really handy. This meant that I ended up behind a full length 2-way mirror. I reached up to push the hidden latch that opened the mirror, then stopped.

Tamara and Jack slipped into the room holding hands, giggling and looking over their shoulders to make sure no one followed. They talked for just a moment. I couldn't hear them through the thick glass. Tamara did most of the talking. I’d never seen her so excited, bouncing on her toes and grinning like a maniac.

Jack smiled back at her, wider and wider as she talked. He laughed and hugged her, picking her up off her feet and swinging her around.

He’d never done that with me. I’m too tall, but Tamara was just the right height for him. She was just right for him in so many ways.

As I watched, I felt a weird mix of keening pain and joy. I loved them both. They looked so happy together. Tears trailed down my cheeks without me even noticing at first. If this was what was best for them, then I knew what I had to do.

I can’t write anymore right now. I think this might be helping, though. I’ll write more later.

D Dragon

I Was Dragon-napped!

So much happened, I haven’t had a chance to write until now, but I know it always helps me make sense of things when I write them down. So, here goes.

When I woke up, I was tied to a chair and the guy with the curly hair and the broken nose had just slapped me. That’s what woke me up.

If I had still been a dragon, that chair would have been usable as vampire stakes, the ropes around my wrists would have been knitting yarn, and that guy would have had a black eye to go with his broken nose. As it was, all I could do was glare at him. It just wasn’t as satisfying.

I remembered what my great-great grandmother Cuicatl said, that I was just human because I wanted to be, and tried to change back. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused really hard on scales and wings, claws and fangs.

The curly-haired guy slapped me again.

Wow, that got old fast.

“Keep it up, jerk, and I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.” It had scared me into almost wetting myself when Cuicatl used that threat on me, but the thug just laughed. 

“Ooh, I’m shakin’,” he said, but he wasn’t, unfortunately.

I guess the threat had more impact coming from a room-sized dragon with six inch claws and fangs.

I tried to get my bearings, figure out where they’d taken me while I was unconscious, but between being slapped twice and whatever they’d drugged me with, my brain wasn’t quite firing on all cylinders.

The polo shirt wearing guy with the huge biceps, the really ugly Hispanic guy with the scarred face, and the woman with too much lipstick were all there, whispering to each other a little ways away in what appeared to be a large, empty warehouse.

I tried to listen in, caught something about “I thought he’d be here by now,” and “Don’t question the will of the Obsidian one.”

That really made my ears prick up. Cuicatl had called the monster who murdered her daughter and kidnapped her, Smoking Mirror or the Obsidian one. Bingo, I finally understood the connection between my ancestor and me, and why I kept getting pulled back to her time. She and I were fighting the same enemy.

How the heck was that possible, though? From what I could tell by searching Google and Wikipedia, Cuicatl and Quetzelcoatl had to have lived in Central America more than a thousand years ago, maybe more like 1500 years ago. How could Smoking Mirror be a threat to me now, today, in Texas?

Curly Hair smacked me in the face again hard enough that I knew my cheek would be red for hours and involuntary tears started in my eyes. It kind of broke my train of thought. “What the heck, dude? You get your jollies popping women in the face?”

“Not women,” he said with a grin twisted by the plastic and tape on his nose. “Just you, bitch. Doctors said my nose will be crooked for life. If the Dark God hadn’t specifically told us not to, I’d bust you up good.”

“And if my hands weren’t tied, you’d have a few missing teeth, but we can’t all get what we want.” He smacked me again.

I growled, and started focusing again on being a dragon. I really, really wanted claws and super strength right then. I felt a little tingly weird in my skin. I thought maybe it was working. Then there was a shattering bangy overwhelming crash, kind of like a pickup being driven into the side of a metal building and taking down a fair amount of one wall.

The pickup was Donovan’s.

The thugs all whirled around, putting their backs to me to face the new threat.

Donovan stuck his pistol out the open driver’s window and shouted, “Everybody freeze!”

For a second, everybody did.

Then, Curly Hair crouched behind me so I was a human shield, and stuck a .45 in my ear. “Back off or the bitch dies!”

“Really? You’re pulling that old sock out of the drawer?” I said. Then I bashed the back of my head into his broken nose.

Blood gushed. He fell to his knees, moaning and crying, and mumbling something like, “Kill you, you bith, kill you, …” It was a little hard to understand him through the gushing blood and the hands, but I got the message when he blinked tears and aimed the .45 at my head with a wobbly hand.

Crap.

I did the only thing I really could do. I tipped the chair over on its side. I banged my elbow hard enough to lose some skin on the concrete, but the bullet missed me.

Donovan shot him. Three shots, center mass, very close grouping. Curly Hair no longer had to worry about what shape his nose was.

All hell broke loose around me.

The bad guys opened fire on Donovan’s pickup while running for the big hole in the wall, trying to escape.

White Knight jumped out of the back of the pickup in full armor. Bullets pinged off my grandmother’s impenetrable silver scales, making little sparks, as Knight chased the bad guys, and gal.

Knight caught the woman with the bright lipstick first. He just tripped her, took her gun and kept running. He caught Scar Face next.

Just when Big Biceps thought he’d made it out, Jack stepped out from beside the warehouse wall and hit him in the ribs with the taser. Big Biceps spasmed, jerked and went down, all that muscle turned against him. Jack kept the taser on him for a while, just to make sure he stayed down.

Donovan covered Lipstick with his gun, while backing toward me to untie me. She raised her hands, showing the black and yellow skull tattoo on her palm, but got to her feet and made a run for it when Donovan looked down at the ropes for a second.

She threw a clothesline punch at Jack as she ran past, but he ducked. He got her in the back with the taser and down she went. Two for Jack.

Only Scar Face still stood. He fought Knight like a demon, got a couple of really good hits in, but the armor took a lot of the sting out of them. Knight finally hit the guy, open handed, hard enough to launch him off his feet and into the metal wall.

He left a smear of blood on the sheet steel wall as he went down.

Knight checked Scar Face’s pulse to make sure he was still alive, but it was clear he wasn’t getting up any time soon.

I’d been rescued. In between feeling elated and grateful and kind of freaked out, I have to admit I felt a little miffed.

Donovan gave me a hand up. “You okay, boss?” He asked it as a real question, not just a standard thing to say.

“I’m good. I’ve just always been the dragon. I’m not so keen on this damsel in distress gig.”

Donovan nodded understanding. “I’d prefer you didn’t make it a habit.”

“Don’t worry.”

Donovan grinned. “I always worry. That’s my job.”

White Knight scooped me up in his arms and hugged the stuffings out of me.

“Knight,” I gasped. “Human … ribs…”

“Oh, sorry.” He let me breathe, and I gracefully pushed away from his well-muscled, sexy-scented shiny-armored seriously hot body. Not that I noticed or anything. “I just. I was so scared that we’d be too late, that they would have …”

Jack got there, face as frantic with worry as Knight’s voice.

I threw myself into Jack’s arms, and started sniffling. Embarrassing, but true. I’d been holding it together pretty well until then.

Jack stroked my hair and held me tight. “That’s why,” I whispered into his ear, and he squeezed me tighter.

“Are you okay, Dee?” Jack said softly while I got his collar wet.

“I’m okay. I was just scared that one of them might have hurt you. They didn’t do anything worse to me than a sunburned cheek.”

“I’ll kill the bastard who hit you,” Knight muttered through clenched teeth.

“Too late. Donovan beat you to it.” I wiped my nose on my sleeve and pulled myself together. I might be the damsel in need of rescuing this time, but damned if I was going to act like one.

Big Biceps groaned and looked like he might get up.

Donovan and Knight covered him and Lipstick until the cops got there. Jack stayed with me. I wouldn’t let him go for a while.

I knew Detective Long was going to have a field day with those guys.

He did, too, but it didn’t do us any good.

I’ll write more later.

D Dragon

Charity at Gun Point

I spent a fair amount of last Saturday begging on a street corner. Not really what I thought I’d be doing when I became a firefighter, but it was for the Breast Cancer Resource Center.  It’s a great charity that helps women who have breast cancer with things insurance companies never think about, like a babysitter for their kids while they have chemo treatments, or things as simple as a special pillow so they can sleep more comfortably. If I had to stand on a corner holding a rubber boot to support them, then I’d stand around holding a boot.

Being an EMT for the fire department means I get 48 hours off after each 24 hours on duty. It’s an odd schedule, but I’m used to odd schedules. With all that free time in big blocks, I can see why Novak chose this as his other job. It’s the perfect job for a superhero. I can’t fight crime anymore, but Liberty always says giving to charity makes everyone a hero. So, I’ve been using the extra time to volunteer for a local charity Halloween event that also benefits BCRC. "Helping to put the Boo into Boobies" I got a t-shirt that said that right across the chest. Made me chuckle.

I was actually doing the boot holding thing on duty. The whole department was out. We had our trucks parked in a shopping mall on the corner, and radios on, so if an emergency call came in, we could still do our jobs. Novak, Jack, Tamara and I were on the four sides of the busy intersection of 183 and I35 in North Austin.

Donovan’s pickup was parked under the overpass on the concrete shoulder. It annoyed me that he kept following me around, but he just sat in his cab with the windows down, enjoying the pleasant fall weather and the latest John Ringo novel. I couldn’t get rid of him, but at least he knew how to stay unobtrusive.

I really used to think me having a bodyguard was silly. Not so much anymore.

A big forest green Dodge van pulled up to the red light. The driver, a Mexican woman in her early thirties wearing bright red lipstick, waved me over with a twenty in her hand.

As I got right up to the window, the driver smiled, pulled out a .45 and stuck it in my face.

“Are you kidding me?” I got really indignant. I think maybe I channeled my mother for a few seconds. “You should be ashamed of yourself. There’s like $200 in this boot, and it’s slated to help some poor woman who's fighting for her life. If you can afford gas for this hulk, then you sure as heck don’t need this money more than the charity does.”

The woman looked at the boot with distaste. “Leave it. Get in the van or I’ll blow your head off.”

A side door opened. A guy with huge biceps and a familiar tattoo pointed another gun at me. He grabbed the front of my uniform shirt and dragged me toward the van. 

I dug in my heels and threw the boot at him. I'd rather get shot right there than get into a vehicle with those guys. I tried an arm up, twist move that Tamara had taught me to escape choke holds, but the big guy lifted me off my feet before I got going.

An all too familiar white guy with curly hair, a broken nose, and the same tattoo reached toward me from the back of the van, with a folded white cloth in his hand.

I pushed the button on the radio on my shoulder. “Crap. I’m being kidnapped. The guys from the nuclear plant!”

Big Biceps kept me from wriggling away while Curly Hair shoved the cloth in my face.

I took a little nap after that.

D Dragon

Bomb Dogs and Biology

We got a call that there was a bomb threat at UT yesterday. Some guy called the campus cops, said he was with Al Qaeda and 90 bombs were planted on campus. Our unit got called along with three other fire trucks, the supe squad, ten bomb sniffing K-9 units, and Detective Long.

Liberty, Jupiter Joe and Alrek, the dragon who looked just like Agmund, my great-great grandfather, also came.

We parked our fire truck by the biology ponds, on Inner Campus Drive, right in front of the clock tower in the center of campus. I love that spot. Under normal circumstances, the pigeons and the squirrels are so tame as to be practically pets. I’ve gotten them to eat out of my hands and let me touch them at quiet moments in the past when this campus had been my home.

Now, the birds were all scattered from the tension and noise of the huge unfamiliar vehicles. One squirrel griped at us from the branches of a huge spreading oak. But the glassy ponds with their blooming water lilies and turtles sunning on rocks still managed somehow to look peaceful. It made me smile a little until I saw another vehicle pull in behind us and park off to the side.

Donovan followed the fire truck, in his pickup. His long strides closed the distance rapidly.

“I’m supposed to be rescuing people and putting out fires. I don’t really need a bodyguard,” I told him.

Donovan shrugged. “If you don’t, I don’t know anyone in the world who does. You’ve still got a black eye from the last time you snuck out without telling me.”

“I didn’t sneak out.”

“No, of course not. You just left an hour before you usually get out of bed, without informing anyone, including your bodyguard, that you were changing your routine.” He glared at me.

I ignored him.

It sort of defined our relationship.

The entire campus was evacuated. Everyone was afraid that it was the same guy who blew the highway, the hospital and the Erwin center. I kept waiting for the muffled thump of bombs and for the stately old buildings around me to start collapsing.

Detective Long called me over to the clump of superheroes and cops and asked me if I had any personal relationship to UT. Novak came over with me.

“I went to school here,” I told Donovan, “but that was forty years ago. I doubt anyone remembers but me.”

The detective grinned slightly. “I forget how old you are sometimes.”

“You think it’s ‘Him’” I did air quotes with my fingers. “The yellow striped skull guy?”

The tall, broad-shouldered detective straightened his vivid maroon tie and shook his head. “He’s never given us a warning before. He seems to prefer for the people to be IN the buildings when he blows them up.”

I shuddered. Not a cheery thought, but accurate.

I wondered why Jupiter Joe and Alrek showed up with Liberty.

“I’m surprised you’re even still in town, Joe, since the triple-A sent you to recruit me and I’m no longer a supe.”

Jupiter Joe tipped his hat. “I believe, as Liberty does, that your powers will return, Dee. But my superiors do not have that level of patience. I told them I was trying to recruit a dragon instead.”

I looked at Alrek, eyebrows raised. “You thinking of becoming a superhero?”

Alrek chuckled as if that idea was pretty funny. “Joe is using me as an excuse to remain in Texas. I believe he is in no hurry to return to the Alliance headquarters in Chicago.”

Joe grinned, and shrugged, not denying it.

“What brings you to Austin, Alrek?” I asked him. I’d been pretty freaked out when the Erwin Center came down around my ears, and hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him since.

“I saw a news film of a dragon who was sighted here, a large Red with black markings. I think, perhaps, he is an old acquaintance. I had hoped to find him.”

“You and Fafnir are friends?”

He smiled, showing teeth. “I knew Prince Fafnir a very long time ago when he was no older than you are, young Damson. Is he a friend of yours, your mate, perhaps?”

I snorted. “Jack is my boyfriend. Fafnir is more like my mentor. He’s a little old for me.”

“Jack.” Alrek blinked, his golden-bearded Nordic face a wash of shock. “The small dark-haired human we saved from the bombed performance hall?” He looked over at Jack, who stood way too close to Tamara, chit-chatting and laughing while they waited to have something useful to do.

“He’s a dragon lord. His family were emperors, with dragon ancestry a few generations back.” I’m not sure why I felt the need to defend Jack, but I did. Alrek had such a sound of disbelief in his voice when he found out my boyfriend was human.

“He is a son of direct royal lineage then.” Alek nodded as if something made sense to him.

I was about to object that his lineage didn’t have a heck of a lot to do with anything when frantic barking made all of us look up. Apparently, one of the bomb detection dogs had detected something.

A uniformed officer waved at us from the front door of the biology building.

Actually, he was probably waving at either the police detective or the two costumed superheroes standing next to me, but Novak and I ran with them and no one objected.

Donovan ran a little behind us, watching our backs, because that’s what Donovan does.

I noticed that Alrek limped when he ran, but didn’t have a chance to ask him about it.

We had a little argument at the door to the building.

“Stay here, Dee,” Novak said. “Let us handle it.” When he said us, he nodded toward Liberty and Joe, and somehow also included Alrek.

I realized something. Two Protectors, a nationally famous Alliance hero, and an elder dragon stood next to me. In this group, I wasn’t one of the gang anymore. Being normal meant I was the one who was different. I was a civilian to be protected.

I was about to get in Novak’s face when Liberty put a gentle hand on my arm. “Just until you get your powers back, Dee. It would be best if you tried not to go into any more buildings that are likely to have bombs in them.”

Donovan nodded agreement. “It would make my job considerably easier.”

It was a conspiracy.

“But Detective Long isn’t a supe, and he’s going in.” I objected.

The detective patted me on the back. “Don’t pout. When you learn how to defuse bombs, we’ll let you come in, too.”

He chuckled and they all ran into the building, leaving me and Donovan on the front steps.

“I wasn’t pouting,” I told Donovan.

Donovan didn’t crack so much as a hint of a smile. “Of course not, boss.”

It turned out it was a false alarm. The dogs were trained to identify certain chemicals, like sodium nitrate and potassium chlorate, since they can be used in explosive compounds. In the biology building, those chemicals were just stored in jars in the biochem lab along with bunches of other chemicals.

The whole bomb threat turned out to be entirely a false alarm.

It was probably just some student who desperately wanted to get out of an exam who called in the threat.

So, there was no real danger, this time.

I kept thinking that if it had been the real deal, I’d have been standing outside waiting and hoping, not in the middle of things helping. I’d spent far too much of my life already, waiting and watching instead of doing.

Sometimes being normal sucked royally.

D Dragon

Celebration

It’s been a great week. With everyone in the household gainfully employed again, money isn’t tight anymore.

The spectacular black eye I got from a henchman boot to the head has faded to a mere purple smudge under one eye.

Jack, Roy and I all got assigned to the same fire house. Roy’s college friend, Bo, didn’t make it through the academy. The kicker is that we walked into the firehouse that will be our home 24 out of every 72 hours, and saw two familiar faces, Tamara Perez and Mark Novak.

I’ve got mixed feelings. On the one hand, I get to hang around with Tamara a bunch more. She is a lot of fun. On the other hand, her and Jack now spend even more time together than usual. Those two work together like me and Jack do, like two halves of the same person. I know it’s petty, but I liked that it was just the two of us who worked together like that.

On yet another hand, Jack’s not thrilled about me and Novak being thrown together so much either.

There was a dual 18-wheeler wreck on I35 on the north end of Round Rock a couple days ago. No serious injuries this time. I took one look at that big rig laying on its side and grinned at Novak. He grinned back. We had one of those moments of thinking the same thought without a word that make you realize you’ve become close friends without meaning to. Flipping an inverted big rig tractor with the driver trapped inside was the first time Novak and I pushed in the same direction, rather than against each other.

It bugged me a little as I realized that if the driver had been trapped inside this time, Novak could still push, but I no longer had the strength to help significantly. We couldn’t have flipped that 18 wheeler if we needed to.  I was just glad the driver wasn’t trapped this time.

I invited everyone out to dinner to celebrate us all being employed, getting to work together, and saving the city, for now. We had a lot to be happy about.

Tamara, Novak, Jack, Brad, Ma and me all went out to Fish Daddy’s. I can eat veggies now, but I still love seafood. I invited Donovan to have dinner with us, too, since he was following us around anyway. 

The amazing thing, to me at least, was that we had an actual celebratory meal out, and no supervillains attacked, the building didn’t blow up, no ultimatums were issued, and no wayward  Alliance heroes shattered the windows.

We just had a nice, normal dinner.

Well, as normal as my life gets anyway.

Novak was pretty quiet through the whole meal, not his usual snarky, self-righteous self. He seemed happy to be included, though.

I bought Tamara a margherita and told her, “Thanks for the lessons in fighting. They paid off hugely.”

Tamara said, “You are a very apt and dedicated student, even if you are a spaz.” She winked at me.

I kicked her under the table.

I bought Brad a Dos Equis with lime, his favorite beer. Brad said, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you my life. You should have gotten that medal, not me. If not for you, half of Austin would be radioactive, and I’d be in a coffin, if there was enough left of me to put in one.” I hugged Brad. “Thank you.”

Brad’s grizzly bear bubba look didn’t do a blush, but he managed to look like he was trying. “I didn’t do anything, Dee. You were right. They were the lamest henchmen ever.” He chuckled uncomfortably. Brad seems to have some issues with handling praise.

Jack ordered me a frozen margherita with extra salt. My love of salt hasn’t changed just because I don’t have to eat nothing but meat all the time. I’ve had to cut back a bit on the cayenne pepper, though.

“Hey, I’m the designated driver.”

Ma said, “Nonsense, I am driving us home.”

Jack chuckled. “I’ll drive us home, maam. I don’t drink anyway.”

“Neither do I,” I told him.

“You’re the one who saved the day, this time, Dee. You and Brad. You did it without any supe dragon powers at all.” Jack squeezed my hand. I’d have faced a whole passel of bad guys to see that look on his face.  “You haven’t tried a drink since you became normal. Give it a shot.”

I tried it. It didn’t smell bad like it used to. It was kind of sour and salty, cold and refreshing. It was pretty good actually. I drank the whole big glass, about the size of a large cereal bowl on a thick glass stem.

I got a bit giggly after that.

I didn’t dance on the tables or anything. Jack kept me from doing anything I would regret later. Including when I tried to seduce Jack when we got home. He said he would prefer that we did that when I was sober. He did say that he was hoping that would be soon, though.

The best part? I woke up the next morning and didn’t feel like the whole world was spinning and I wanted to puke up my toenails.

Being normal is pretty cool sometimes.

D Dragon

Nuclear Meltdown

This was my first week as an official firefighter, and I didn’t fight one single fire. We fought a lot more fires in the academy. Car fires, tall building fires, oil fires, weird chemical fires, brush fires. Now, I feel like I’m back working for the hospital. We just have a much bigger vehicle to answer emergency calls. They won’t let Jack drive yet, because we’re rookies, but Sam Martinez, the guy who does drive, is a kindred spirit with Jack.  There isn’t an ambulance driver in town that’s going to beat us to an emergency call.

I’m just glad I made it. We almost didn’t become firefighters.

I almost didn’t anyway. Jack was fine.

I had two demerits, and only two days to go. All I had to do was make it through those last two days without getting another demerit. Thursday morning, I took my Jeep, and left a little early, rather than ride to work with Jack in his Toyota. I wanted to stop and get him a graduation present. I didn’t tell Jack that, of course.

I got him a new watch, the old-fashioned kind that doesn’t need batteries and winds itself when you move your arm. I’d already ordered it on line. I just needed to pick it up from the jeweler. I had “That’s why” engraved on the back. I figured that way, even if I forgot to say it, or we were apart for a while, all he’d have to do was look at the watch and I’d still keep my promise.

With my luck, I half expected the jewelry store to get robbed while I was there, which made me maybe a little more paranoid than usual. It was really early. The sun wasn’t quite up yet. I wanted to be there the minute the jewelry store opened, get the watch, and get to the academy with time to spare. No way was I taking a chance on getting that last demerit with only two days to go.

I used the old section of 1325 as a shortcut to avoid the new toll road, like I usually do. I only take the toll if I’m in a huge rush. That took me past the University of Texas science center where they have that little mini nuclear reactor that they use for research. It’s a pretty non-descript boxy building, surrounded mostly by a big open field, and a tall chain link fence. It’s not really what anyone thinks of when they think of a nuclear reactor. People drive by that little section of campus every day for years and never realize there’s a nuclear plant there. UT used to offer tours to students. That's the only reason I knew it was there.

I saw three cars parked by the side of the road and thought that was a little odd.

That was when I noticed something that really worried me. A stylized cloaked figure with a big scythe was spray painted on a telephone pole near one of the cars. It was the symbol of the Death Dealers, but they generally didn’t bother leaving any kind of calling card. Dead people sliced up, missing eyes, ears, and other body parts were generally enough to identify where they’d been.

I knew immediately what I’d just seen. Whoever had been blowing up pieces of my city and blaming it on other known villains was about to blow the nuclear reactor. It didn’t even occur to me to think I might be jumping to conclusions. I’d seen the devastation of the last three blasts. If that wasn’t what was happening, then I’d be a little red-faced, but if it was, I had to do something.

I passed the cars, until I was out of sight around a corner, found a wide spot on the shoulder and parked right behind a big black pickup that looked very familiar.

What the heck was Brad doing out here in the wee hours before dawn? I realized I’d parked right behind him. Crap. He’d probably seen the same thing I had, and done the same crazy thing I was about to do.

I took the time to call Detective Long’s direct line. It’s kind of cool having a police detective on speed dial. Unfortunately, I got his voice mail.

“It’s Dee. Our bad guys are at the UT nuke plant. Get here fast.” I whispered into the phone. Not sure why I was whispering. It just seemed like the thing to do. I called Liberty next, but her voice mail said she was in Washington DC until Monday. Wonderful. TakeDown’s number also got voice mail, and I thought that guy never slept. I dialed White Knight in desperation, but apparently at this time in the morning, no one answered their cell phone.

I badly needed someone with superpowers, or a badge, or both. I didn’t have either, but I couldn’t just do nothing.

Brad’s big truck made it clear that he was here. He wasn’t a superhero, but he had some pretty intense supe abilities. Having spent some time with Liberty and White Knight and Jupiter Joe, I now clearly understood the difference.

I didn’t really have a plan, but if I could find Brad, the two of us might be able to do something.

I dialed 911 and left the phone in the car. I figured if they didn’t hear anything, they’d trace the GPS in the phone and send someone. I didn’t want to stay long enough to explain. If that plant blew, it could do incredible damage to my city.

At least, this target didn’t seem to have anything to do with me. It was just a nasty way to hurt as many people in the area as possible. It was a relief in a way. I was just being paranoid before. Whoever the bad guy was, he wasn’t targeting me in particular, just my city in general.

I crept along, just outside the chain link fence that surrounded the plant. The weeds were knee high, and seemed to be largely made up of thistle that kept catching on my pants, but at least the thick grass didn’t make much noise as I moved through it. The grass was mowed inside the fence. No place to hide in there.

I spotted a guy from a fair distance in non-descript jeans and t-shirt painting a few poles. He wasn’t really who I was worried about. I wondered where the guys planting the bombs were. I also wondered where the cameras were. I spotted a few hung from the power lines. They were small, inconspicuous, and wireless. No telling where their signals were being sent to.

Det Long told me he’d chased that angle. Whoever set the cameras up had a first class computer hacker on their side. The signals bounced through so many proxies, the final destination might have been in Beijing. I didn’t care where the signal went right then. I was just worried about who might spot me with those things and warn the bad guys.

I tried to avoid them, but really, I had no way to tell if I succeeded.

The cut and bent back chain link fence section near the guy with the spray can told me exactly where the guys with the bombs had gone.

I backtracked to my Jeep, pulled it right up next to the fence, and climbed on the roof. The barbed wire at the top of the fence was nasty. I still had the old leather jacket I used to use as superhero garb in the back. Throwing that over the barbed wire gave me a safer way over.

I was probably also in full view of whatever security the plant itself had, but that didn’t bug me in the least. If they saw me and it put them on alert, so much the better. But I suspected the security had been neutralized in some way by the bad guys.

Sure enough, as I got closer to the building, I saw standard security cameras in the eaves. The telltale red LED lights that should have been glowing on each one were dark.

I’d nearly turned my ankle a couple of times getting across the field. I missed my dragon vision.

A metal side door with a substantial-looking lock stood ajar a few inches.

I peered inside, glad the lights were on.

No sign of bad guys, just a stairwell with down as the only option, and a door opposite. I tried the door, but it was locked. The bad guys must have gone down.

I tip-toed down the metal stairs, glad I was wearing my Sketchers. The stairs led down to an open metal mesh walkway. The whole area was essentially a huge open room with metal mesh walkways all around and a deep swimming pool in the center. Down in the bottom of the pool, I could actually see the bright glow of the mini nuclear reactor.

I’d gotten the tour before, so I wasn’t shocked or anything, but it was still pretty awesome looking through a few feet of clear water straight into the glowing heart of a nuclear fire.

I could see guys setting little devices with wires around the edge of the swimming pool. There were two guys, one practically under me, the other on the other side of the pool. The one under me was a black guy with a baseball cap turned backward, probably not much past a teenager. The guy on the other end of the pool was white with dark hair spiked up on top and a navy blue polo. Even from here I could tell that guy was big. His biceps strained his shirt sleeves.

I couldn’t see behind the room-sized concrete housing for the cooling and fueling mechanisms on one end of the pool.  There was another section of building around the corner where the monitoring station was. I couldn’t see in there either, although there was a window up a level that looked down. Anyone in there could probably see me.

So, there could be more bad guys. And they could already know I was there. If not, the moment I did anything, they would know.

Well, no point in being subtle then.

I jumped off the metal walkway, landed right behind the black guy with the cap. He was crouched down on the edge of the pool that kept the reactor from overheating messing with a nasty little device. I considered just knocking him into the pool for a second. He’d probably get enough of a radiation dose to kill him eventually, but in the meantime, he’d just be wet and really mad. And I didn’t see any guns, but I’d have been stunned if those guys weren’t armed. He could shoot me from the pool and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.

So, instead, I did my best hammer fist strike to the back of his neck, putting my full body weight into it like Tamara had taught me. It didn’t take him out, but it dropped him to hands and knees. I drew back and kicked him in the face. That took him out.

He lay on his back, eyes rolled back in his head, and didn’t look inclined to move again for a while.

I ran as fast as I could around the edge of the pool.

The other guy looked up from what he was doing just before I rounded the corner. His brows crinkled a second like he wondered who I was.

I closed half the distance between us.

He glanced over where his buddy was sprawled unmoving on the concrete.

I was six feet away, running full out.

His eyes widened as he reached behind his back, lifting the edge of his polo shirt with his other hand.

I hit him with a full body tackle just as he got the gun out of the back of his waistband and started to bring it around. The gun went clattering out of his hand, slid along the concrete, and splashed over the edge into the pool of heavy water.

So, he wasn’t going to shoot me.

He was, however, twice my weight with biceps as big as my thighs. He wrestled me over onto my back, grabbed me around the throat with both hands, and squeezed.

Not good. But not as bad as it could have been. Tamara spent a fair amount of each class on what she called ground fighting, ways to defend yourself even flat on your back. Breaking choke holds was basic level. I tucked one foot up under my butt, trapped the big guy’s leg with the other, and bucked hard, while yanking the guy’s hands outward.

He flipped over until I was on top. I shoved his hands down with my full body weight on top of them, and added a hard knee to his groin to discourage him. No matter how big a guy is, a knee to the groin gets attention. 

That knee made him cough and curl up. I followed it with adrenaline fueled punches to his face, belly and groin again. I’d never gone up against an opponent who was stronger than me in a real fight before, except that one time when I punched Brad with everything I had. He accused me of tickling him.

I punched and kicked and elbowed until the guy was curled into a little ball, arms over his head, begging me to stop.

I might have taken it a bit far, honestly, but I was seriously scared. If I failed, not only would the guy kill me, but he might kill my whole city.

I had my feet back under me by the time it was clear that this bomber wasn’t going to kill me or anyone else today. I was starting to feel a little relieved. I’d done it. I’d stopped them.

That was when I felt the gun barrel against the back of my head.

“Don’t move, bitch.”

I froze. Tamara had showed me a few moves that would disarm someone who had a gun touching me. One of them fit this scenario exactly. But all gun defense moves were incredibly risky, only to be used in extreme circumstances.

Preventing a nuclear explosion and meltdown in a city with a million people seemed pretty extreme to me.

“Did you think you could stop u..”

The guy never finished the sentence. While he was talking, I twisted to the side, leaned back, and swung my arm up and around.

His arm ended up tucked under mine, the gun safely aimed away from me. He had a tattoo on his forearm of a black skull with large staring eyes and a thick stripe of yellow across the upper half of the face, like a superhero mask.

I hit him in the nose as hard as I could with an elbow. I felt bone crunch. It was a good hit.

Something harder than flesh slammed into the back of my head.

What my training hadn’t covered was if the guy with the gun had a buddy I didn’t know about, with another gun.

I dropped to one knee, blinking to try to get the world back in focus.

My grip on the first guy’s gun arm loosened.

The two men stood over me, both of their guns pointed at my head, but not close enough for me to do anything about it.

I managed to get their faces in focus. One guy had curly, bushy dark hair and a spectacularly bloody nose. He looked really pissed off. The other was older and shorter with Hispanic dark skin and a scarred face that looked like fifty miles of bad road. Danny Trejo would look pretty next to this guy. His thick-veined arms had the same black skull with a yellow stripe tattoo.

In the frantic fight with the man with the big biceps, I’d barely noticed it, but he had the same tattoo.

I hadn’t seen it, but I’d be willing to bet money that the black kid in the cap had one too.

That was some brilliant detective work there, which wasn’t going to do me a bit of good with a bullet hole in my skull.

“You can’t stop Him, stupid bitch. He rules over all the ages of man.” That was the curly-haired guy with the bloody nose.

The “Him” was definitely capitalized. You could hear it in the way he said it.

I looked up, and fought to keep my face from showing my surprise and relief. There was someone tip-toeing up behind the two bad guys with the guns pointed at my face. Someone huge, hairy, ugly, and wearing a Crippen Steel gimme cap. Brad Spiers would never be mistaken for Brad Pitt, but right then, he looked just as gorgeous to me. Brad can move surprisingly quietly for such a big guy.

I wasn’t sure if Brad was bullet proof, but I knew that no punch these guys could throw would so much as phase him.

I said, “Well, whoever “He” is, he clearly needs to hire better help. Three out of four of you got taken out by one lone unarmed girl. You guys are the lamest henchmen ever.” If I kept their attention on me, Brad could get to them without getting shot.

Unfortunately, their attention came in the form of a cowboy boot to my temple from the ugly Hispanic guy.

I kind of took a little nap there for a few seconds. I vaguely remember some shouting and a scuffle.

Next thing I clearly remember was Brad carrying me out of the building.

Then there were some sirens and some flashy lights.

Cops pointed guns at us, but I waved at Detective Long and they stopped.

Apparently, he got my message.

He insisted that I go to a hospital, something about a concussion. That meant that I didn’t make it to my second to the last day of firefighter training.

After ten weeks of hell, I failed two days short of the goal.

I protested, but the fact that I wanted to puke every time I sat up, and I kept seeing two of everything made it pretty much impossible for me to convince anyone I was fine and needed to get to the academy.

Detective Long threatened to arrest me if I didn’t go to a hospital.

They discharged me later that same day.

Jack and Ma took turns staying up all night with me, waking me up every few hours, which was a truly miserable way to spend a night, I have to say.

The kicker of it was, all the bad guys were gone when the cops went into the building. The bomb squad disarmed the bombs, so the nuclear reactor didn’t blow up or melt down, but the bad guys got away.

I told Detective Long about the striped skull tattoos, and the bad guys referring to “Him.”

It was a little more than we knew before, at least.

I also told him that I was relieved that this attack didn’t have anything to do with me, personally. So, that shot my paranoid theory about the bomber targeting me.

Detective Long nodded like he agreed, then said, “So, why were you there?”

“I just happened to be driving by. The jeweler where I picked up the present I ordered for Jack is just up the street.”

“Did you order that present on line? Like you ordered your concert tickets?”

I felt really stupid. “Yeah. I did.”

“We’ve already established that whoever we’re up against, he’s got an exceptionally skilled hacker working with him.”

“Crap.”

Detective Long nodded. “Watch your back, Dee.”

He sent a police escort with me to the hospital. Officer Flynn stood outside my room the whole time they did CAT scans and such on me at the hospital. When I got home, Flynn briefed Donovan.

I haven’t been able to go anywhere since then without an unmarked police car and Donovan’s Ford crew cab F250 both shadowing me.

I rode in Friday with Jack. I’d blown it, but I still wanted to see Jack graduate from the academy.

When I got there, I got a bit of a surprise. The mayor gave me a firefighter’s medal of valor.

Dave laughed when I told him I thought my last demerit meant I was out. He told me that saving the city from a nuclear meltdown was the best excuse for missing a day he’d ever heard. Under the circumstances, my demerit was excused.

D. Dragon

Unwelcome Guest

It was my last day free before starting my new job with the fire department. It was a couple hours after dinner. Jack, Ma, Brad and I had been watching Leverage, the one show we all liked, when the alarm went off. Not the fire alarm that practically makes my ears bleed, the more subtle alarm that Donovan put in to warn of dangerous intruders.

Donovan came through the living room from the security monitoring station upstairs. He had a gun in his hand, another on his hip, and I knew he had two or three more somewhere on his person. “We’ve got unwelcome company. I’ll take care of it.”

I stood up. “Jack, get Ma to the back elevator in case ya’ll need to leave fast.”

Brad got up too. “I’ve got your back, Dee.” Brad’s as invulnerable as Liberty and damn near as strong. The only reason he wasn’t a superhero was a lack of the right kind of self-sacrificing mindset. He was also huge. He looked dangerous. Sometimes, that intimidation factor could stop a fight before it started.

“Thanks, Brad.”

Jack took Ma’s elbow and helped her with her knitting basket. She wouldn’t hardly go anywhere without it.

“What are we up against, Donavan?” I asked him.

“One of the bastards who tried to kill Mr. Tchovsky,” he said grimly. “And he’s armed.”

That confused me.

Jack stopped trying to help Ma to the back of the house and said what I was thinking. “I thought all the Georgians who came after Vlad Tchovsky were dead?”

“All but one,” Donovan said. He yanked open the big solid oak front door and stuck his gun in the face of the man who had one fist up, clearly about to knock on that door. “What do you want?”

“Um … I wanted to talk to Dee.” White Knight said. Novak was in full armor, shield strapped to his back, sword hanging from the belt at his hip, Donovan’s gun barrel in one eyehole of his helmet.

“Donovan, chill. It’s just Knight. He’s not a threat.”

“Then why is he armed?”

“Why is he here at all?” Jack asked, voice nearly as hostile as Donovan’s.

Ma sided with them. “You have no business here, Georgian,” she spat.

Brad just crossed his tree trunk arms and growled menacingly.

White Knight swallowed. Donovan’s gun barrel still rested on the cheek guard of his helmet. When he blinked, his lashes brushed the barrel tip. “Um … maybe this is a bad time.”

“It doesn’t matter when you come, I’ll be waiting for you.” Donovan snarled through gritted teeth. His knuckles were white on the pistol grip.

“Donovan, chill.” I put a hand on his gun hand and gently urged it away from Knight’s face. “He’s just here to talk.”

“Why does he want to talk to you, Dee?” Jack asked, still sounding as hostile as Donovan. Jack seeing me kiss Novak on TV hadn’t made White Knight one of his favorite people.

“We have nothing to say to men like him.” I was glad Ma didn’t have a gun.

I stepped forward, turned my back to White Knight and faced my family. “He’s not an enemy, guys. He’s as much a victim of the Georgians as we are.  Even more so.”

“Victim, right.” Donovan snorted.

“Go back to monitoring, Donovan. He’s not a threat.”

Donovan gave me a sarcastic salute. “Yes, maam, you’re the boss.” Then, he stalked away, boot heels cracking against the hardwood floor with each step.

“Are you sure I don’t need to have a talk with him, Dee?” Brad cracked his knuckles, making a sound like pecans being crushed under boots.

I smiled at Brad, who I used to think of as a troll. “It’s cool. Thanks for the offer, though.” I’m not sure when Brad became someone who would stick up for me, but it was nice to know.

Brad nodded and went back into the living room to watch the end of the show.

I shifted to the side now that no one was likely to murder Knight. “What are you doing here?”

“Like I said, I wanted to talk.”

“What do you have to talk to Dee about?” Jack snapped.

“About … um … our similar ancestry,” he said, clearly struggling for a way to put things without giving away any of my secrets.

“My mother and my boyfriend both know I’m a dragon. You don’t have to be cagey.”

“Oh, you’re Jack, then.” Knight checked Jack out. Jack was a few inches shorter, and nowhere near Knight’s muscle bulk. I could almost see Knight dismissing him as a non-threat.

Jack bristled. Knight didn’t even know that Jack had already taken him out in a fight once. “Last time I saw you, you were drooling on yourself on the floor of a theatre. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

The bottom half of Knight’s face flushed pink.

Jack nodded in satisfaction at the score, and went back to sit with Brad in front of the TV.

“All right, you want to talk. Fine, let’s talk.” I went to lead him into the house, but Ma planted her diminutive body firmly in the way.

“I will not have a Georgian in my house.”

“Ma, he’s a dragon. The Georgians got him when he was just an orphaned kid and brainwashed him.”

Ma’s determination faltered a little. “He’s a grown man. He’s responsible for his own decisions.”

“Ma, please.” I struggled for the right words. I could live with everyone else hating Novak, but it felt important to me that Ma understand, that Ma realize like I did, that Knight was … well, that Knight was one of us. “Ma, they cut off his wings.”

“Oh!” Ma covered her mouth with her hand. Her dark eyes shone. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled Knight inside by his other arm.

She fussed a little. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Iced tea?” Once she accepted him as a guest, she went straight into hostess mode like she hadn’t wanted to toss him out on his ear a moment before.

Knight took off his helmet and coif as soon as he stepped inside. Hat etiquette. I guess some folks still remember. Since we already knew his secret identity, the mask aspect wasn’t needed. “Don’t go to any trouble, maam.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you a coffee drinker or tea?” Ma can be pretty persuasive.

Novak relented with good grace. “Normally, I’m more of a coffee guy, but today, iced tea sounds good.” 

He’d been stuck outside on a hundred degree day in full armor with a gun in his face.

Tea sounded pretty good to me, too. Something told me the conversation was going to be a doozy.

I was right, but I’ll have to write about it later. I’ve got to crash. I can’t take a chance on being late on my first day.

D Dragon

The Price of Heroism

A couple days after I got out of the hospital, after generous amounts of Ma’s special chicken soup with bones ground up in the broth, and enough cayenne to make a normal cry, I felt about like myself. The claw scars on my belly, arm, and face were still visible, but not quite as Halloween scary-looking. It was time for me to get back to work.

Jack and I rode in to work together in his stalwartly dependable Toyota Matrix.  My old Jeep CJ 7 had 20 years on his car, and while it kept chugging along for the most part, I had to admit, Jack’s car was a lot more comfortable. One of the advantages of Jack living with me, and with his furry alarm clock of a cat, was that we BOTH made it to work on time every night. That is, when I made it to work.

Between stakeouts, and other crime fighting, Protectors training, and recovering from periodic injuries, I’d used up all my sick time, all my vacation time, and then some. If Jack and I didn’t have the best survival statistics of any ambulance team in town, I’d have been fired ages ago.

“You’re fired,” the boss said as we walked past his desk.

I looked at him, claw marks still raw on my face. “I was in the hospital.”

“I don’t care. If you can’t show up to work, I can’t afford to keep paying you.”

“I’m hourly. If I don’t show up, you don’t pay me.”

He shifted the toothpick in his mouth to the other side. “I can’t keep shifts covered if you don’t show up half the time. This isn’t a part time job, girl. If you’re going to spend all your time chasing criminals, get the Protectors to pay you.”

The Protectors don’t pay part-timers like me. You have to become a full team member to get a salary.

He was serious. I was really fired. My savings were gone. I had a place to live, but …

Jack said, “If you fire Dee, you’re going to have to fire me, too. I won’t work with anyone else.”

My hero. Have I mentioned lately how awesome Jack is?

The boss wrinkled his nose and nodded. “I expected that. Fine, you’re fired too. I’ve already hired a replacement team. Get your stuff and get out. I’ll mail you your last checks.”

He turned his back on us.

Jack walked in to the locker room, and started clearing out his stuff.

“Wait, Jack.” I put a hand on his arm. “It doesn’t make any sense for us both to be out of work. The boss would give you back your job, if you asked.”

Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Dee. We’ll land on our feet. I’d rather work somewhere else with you.” Jack’s an optimist, but that’s a bit like saying water is wet. Jack makes Polyanna seem like a depressive.

“Both of us out of work at once, though. How are we going to live?” I tend to see things a little less positively.

“Free rent helps, and Brad’s got a good job, still. He’ll be okay with keeping us going for a few weeks until we find something. He owes me.”

True. Brad was on his way to a drunk and disorderly charge, with no place to live and a broken heart, when Jack offered to let Brad live with him. He didn’t know Brad. He just knew he needed a place to stay. That’s my Jack.

When Jack’s apartment building burned down, Brad, Jack, and Jack’s cat, Cam, and dog, Rocky, all moved in with me and Ma in our little two-bedroom apartment. When my friend, Vlad, the multi-millionaire, decided to leave town, he gave us his mansion, rent free. And his chief of security, Floyd Donovan, salary pre-paid.

So, we had a place to live, and a protector, whether we needed one or not, but little things like food and gas might be a bit hard to come by with no jobs, not to mention the hefty hospital bills I'd just racked up.

Plus, I really like my job. Sure, I feel like I’m helping out with the Protectors, taking some really bad people off the streets, but as a paramedic, I save lives directly. I see people who would die or be crippled for life every single day, and I know they’re better off because I was there to help them. Jack gets us there first, and covers for me. Jack and I save lives together. That’s what we do.

Jack suggested we use our unexpected day off to go listen to some of SXSW, the big music festival going on in Austin. Counting Crows was in town. Jack and I don’t always agree on music, (he likes that dub step stuff that makes my ears ache) but we both like Counting Crows.

I mentally calculated the nearly zero level of my bank account, and wondered if I could afford to go to a “free” concert where I’d have to pay to park, eat, etc.

We opted to go home first and break the news to Ma.

Brad and Donovan were both at the kitchen table, with Ma piling roast beef with potatoes and carrots on a plate for him.

Jack and I grabbed plates and joined in. With our reversed night shift schedules, we were more in the mindset of bacon and eggs, but Ma’s roast fills the house with a scent that would make vegetarians rethink their choices.

“What are you two doing home?” Ma asked.

I stuffed my face with roast to try for extra time. I really didn’t want to tell Ma that Jack and I were both suddenly unemployed.

Jack bailed me out. “We got fired, maam.”

Ma blinked. “Both of you?”

I swallowed roast. “Just me, at first, but Jack stuck up for me. Then the boss fired him, too.”

“Oh, dear.” Ma sat down and drank some tea. I expected a lecture. I got absolute silence from everyone at the table.

Something was off. “What did I miss?”

Brad, the four hundred pound, six-four giant steel-worker with super strength and invulnerability at the level of a Protector, twisted a paper towel in his hand until it shredded. “I got laid off today. The plant’s closing down.”

My stomach lurched a little. Jack and I were counting on Brad to help us get through the lean time. “Are you saying that no one in the whole house has a job now? We have no income at all?”

“I still have a job,” Donovan pointed out. “I could help out some.”

I cringed. “You’re supposed to be working for me. It doesn’t seem right for you to give us money.”

Donovan shrugged. “Mr. Tchovsky pays me well, and I don’t have a family to support. I can help out.”

I saved Donovan’s life once. He seemed to feel like he owed me for that. But he didn’t owe me anything. Not really. He was already essentially working for me for free. “Donovan, I …” My phone rang, interrupting. It was Liberty’s number.

“This is Dee,” I said, grateful for the interruption of what looked to be a very uncomfortable conversation.

“Liberty. I’m sorry to interrupt you at work, but we’ve already got injuries, and it’s probably going to get worse. We need you.”

“No work to interrupt anymore.” She gave me a location. “I’ll be there.”

D Dragon