Page 72 of Dragon Detective

“I’m okay,” she said. “But . . . Now I feel bad.”

I hit the top and came to a halt, my eyes widening. A woman knelt on the floor by the window, curled forward, cupping her face.

“Nottoobad,” Hannah added. “I mean, can soup be considered a weapon?” Her shrill laugh rang out. “Although, it eliminated the threat of her gun.”

“Gun?” I barked, striding over to put myself between them.

Hannah held up a handgun. “She pointed it at my head, but I handled this like the good chef I am by flinging hot soup in her face.”

Evelyn Blakemore glared up at us, her face pink, and her eyes still watering from the soup. “If she’d just handed it over, I would’ve left her alone.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I wouldn’t have actually shot her.”

“Hand what over?” I asked.

Evelyn snarled. “Not telling.”

Hannah looked up at me. “Can you call Detective Carter? My phone seems to have gone missing, and I think Evelyn played a role in its disappearance.”

“I couldn’t let you call anyone with it, now could I?” she said.

I made the call, and the detective said he’d come right away.

Evelyn struggled to rise to her feet. “You scorched my face.” She blotted her cheeks with the hem of her shirt. “I’m going to bear scars. I’m pressing charges.”

“You broke into my building. You threatened me with a handgun,” Hannah said, her voice lifting. “I defended myself, which is well within my right.”

A growl ripped up my throat. “Don’t even think of pressing charges.”

She sneered. “What are you going to do about it? Growl at me?”

I lifted my hand and released my claws, savoring how her eyes widened as they grew in length. When I sent smoke from my nostrils, she stumbled backward, falling on her ass. “Dragon shifters are very protective of their mates.”

She gaped at us both.

Detective Carter arrived at that moment, puffing as he finished climbing the stairs to the attic.

“Well,” he said, peering around, “this place needs some tidying, don’t you think?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “It was tidy. Sylvia and this one,” she jabbed a finger Evelyn’s way, “have been tossing things around.”

“Vandalism, then.” He grunted and pulled cuffs from his back pocket. They were getting quite a workout lately.

Hannah explained the situation and how Grant and Sylvia were part of the plan. Victor had acted on his own and was solely motivated by his worry about competition.

“Threats don’t go over well with the judge,” Detective Carter said grimly. “Especially with deadly weapons.”

Evelyn whimpered and tears trickled down her face. “She should’ve just handed it over. If she had, I wouldn’t have had to break in and look for it myself.”

“Hand what over?” he asked.

She made a zipper motion with her lips before opening them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Huffing, he held out the cuffs. “Will you go quietly with me to the station, or do I have to use these?”

“They’re real?” She traced her finger around one of them.

“Of course they’re real. I’m a detective. I don’t carry fake cuffs around with me for fun.”

“Too bad,” she said, drawing herself up stiffly. “I’ll go with you, but I’m not saying anything.”

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