Page 20 of Burn Dragon Burn

Taking another swipe, he did away with anyone younger than twenty-three and older than fifty-five. “Son of a bitch has to be able to lift a hundred-and-twenty pound of dead weight and carry it not once, but twice.”

Lastly, he eliminated all females. “The marks left by the black magic felt male, right?” He asked his Dragon King aloud, nodding when the magical beast grumbled in agreement.

“Good, that leaves us ten possibles.”

Requesting their files, he watched the thin green line that indicated they were loading until it reached its halfway point before getting up and getting a bottle of water. Wandering towards the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony, he flipped the lock and pushed them open.

Stepping out into the night air, he watched the stars twinkle and glitter as his mind churned through everything he knew about the case. Over and over the pieces of the puzzle turned and twisted, flipped and flopped, never settling, still searching for the one cohesive thread that would tie them all together.

Turning at the same time his phone rang, he walked inside, grabbed the device, and answered, “Rafe here.”

“Rafe?” The elderly woman’s voice was tinged with fear. “Special Agent Rafe O’Rhordan?”

“Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

“Young man, it’s not how you can help me, but how we must help one another.” There was a slight pause in which his Dragon King roared and his free hand involuntarily clenched. When she began again, it was more a command than a request. “I am Angelique Hale. My granddaughter is Donatella Hale and I amsure she’s been abducted by the same man who’s killed those poor girls.”

13

Fighting the fog swamping her mind, her nose itching so bad it almost hurt, she wiggled and squirmed, trying with all her might to raise her arm and scratch the tip of her nose. Forcing her eyes open and only finding more pitch black darkness, she tried to turn her head to the side and realized she couldn’t move that either.

“What the hell is happening? Have I fallen down the rabbit hole? Am I still asleep?” Moving her fingers then trying to lift her hand to pinch herself, she yelled, “Son of a bitch, where in all that’s holy am I?”

The click of a switch was the only warning she got before what seemed like a million overhead fluorescent lights flared to life. Closing her eyes so tightly her cheeks felt like they were on her forehead, she screamed, “Not funny, whoever the hell you are? As soon as I find my gun, I promise I’m gonna shoot you in the ass and leave you for the vermin.”

“You always make me smile, Detective Hale.” The nasal, but somehow musical chuckle, was familiar. She’d heard it before. There was no doubt in her mind but try as she might she couldn’t place it.

Needing to hear the voice again, she deadpanned, “Glad I can help. Now, how about you lend me a hand and get me outta here.”

The chink and clink of metal instrument hitting metal instrument preceeded a tsked, “Oh no, Donatella, can I call you Donatella?” He went on without waiting for an answer. “Why would I help you out of here when I am the one who put you here?”

Attempting to raise her head to see who was playing the world’s cruelest joke on her, Nat ground her teeth so hard she felt a molar crack when her upward progress was halted before it began by the thick leather band wrapped around her forehead. Suddenly it all made sense. Not only was her head strapped down, but also her wrists, her ankles, and her tummy.

Why my stomach? What has it ever done to hurt anyone but me? If you ask me, it’s a total waste of a strap, but then again, I want them all off of me so I can rip the bastard responsible limb-from-limb.

“Okay,” she finally answered. “I can see your point. So, maybe you can explain why I’m here and what you have planned.”

More tinkering sounds came from somewhere beyond her feet as she looked up at the ceiling trying to figure out which fallout shelter out of the hundreds of thousands still accessible in the DFW area she was in. Wherever it was, it was huge. Had to be an industrial shelter. One built for a shit ton of people because the ceiling was higher than most and from the way her voice echoed, she knew the area was vast. If it hadn’t been for the sprinklers on the ceiling with the Bunker Boys logo on it, she’d have sworn she was in an empty warehouse or at the very least a large storage unit.

Thank the Goddess dad was a DIYer. Without him, I would’ve missed that little tidbit of information…

“First, I’d like to say how disappointed I am in you. You’re the best and brightest detective I’ve ever seen. Very little, if anything, gets past you. You solve cases without clues, leads, or evidence.” His footsteps, the sound of rubber soles on concrete, echoed in the silence, stopping before he began again. “But this Yellow Ribbon Ripper had eluded you at every turn. Why do you think that is?”

Usually by this point in any situation, good, bad, or deadly, her Gift would kick in and give her the clues she needed to save her own ass. Because her life was quickly spinning out of control, not even her Sight was working. She was tied down, stuck staring at the ceiling and mind-blind, at least that’s what Nona called it.

Alright, Hale, get your head outta your ass. Use your skills and kick this guy’s ass…

“I’m guessing he’s just smarter than I am.” She hated saying it but was trying to play to her abductor’s ego. If he was the Yellow Ribbon Ripper, she had one shot of getting out alive – Rafe. Hopefully, everything written in that weird old book of her grandmother’s was the truth, because Nat seriously needed some magical mojo and raging, roaring Dragon in the worst kind of way.

Maybe there really was something to this whole ‘Universe picking out your mate’ thing. Thinking about what she’d read while her captor remained silent, she remembered hearing Rafe speak in her mind.

Focusing on the glowing white light shining in the base of her soul, spreading through every fiber of her being, she closed her eyes and thought of the man, the Dragon, who’d captured her heart no matter how hard she resisted his charms. The twinkle in his eyes, the way his hair curled where it touched the collar of her shirt, and the most importantly, the way he made her feel just by being in the same room.

Thinking the words she wanted to say, she whispered,“Rafe? Rafe, are you there?”Waiting a few seconds, wondering why he wasn’t answering and where the guy who’d drugged and kidnapped her had gone, she demanded,“Rafe O’Rhordan, answer me now. I need your help.”She paused for half a second and then added,“Here’s your chance to gloat. You were right.”

When the only answer she got was no answer at all, she yelled, “Hey! Guy who tied me to a table, are you still here?”

The rustle of a plastic curtain and squeaky footsteps sounded right before her captor’s snickered, “Oh, I’m still here, dear Donatella. I promise not to leave you aloneever.”

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