Page 3 of Hot for the Dragon

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DAPHNE

Smoke stung Daphne's eyes as she picked her way through the debris-strewn street. Her green magic tingled uselessly under her skin, reaching for plants that were no longer there.

"Hello? Anyone need help?" she called out, moving toward Mrs. Chen's alterations shop next door.

A cough answered her. "Over here!"

She found Mrs. Chen helping an elderly customer from behind a fallen shelf. "Daphne! Your shop-"

"Gone," Daphne said, forcing a small smile. "But we're not, and that's what matters. Let me help you with him."

Together, they guided the man outside where others were gathering. Someone had dragged picnic tables from the park to create makeshift beds.

"I wish I knew healing magic," Daphne muttered, tearing strips from her apron to bandage a young woman's burned arm. "All I can do is grow pretty flowers."

"Pretty flowers saved my life once," the woman said through gritted teeth. "Allergic reaction. Your moonflower tincture."

"Still." Daphne tied off the bandage. "Right now we need water magic, healing magic - anything but green magic."

A child crying caught her attention. She found a little boy clutching a singed teddy bear, tears cutting clean tracks through the soot on his face.

"Hey there." Daphne knelt beside him. "Want to see something cool?"

She touched a crack in the sidewalk where a dandelion had somehow survived. With a gentle push of magic, she coaxed it to grow and bloom. The boy's sobs turned to hiccups as he watched the yellow flower dance and bow.

"Magic," he whispered.

"Sometimes the smallest things make the biggest difference," she said, though her heart ached thinking of her lost shop. The singing snapdragons would never harmonize again.

Mrs. Chen appeared at her elbow with bottles of water. "You're good at this, you know. Helping people."

"I just wish I could do more."

"Sometimes just being here is enough." Mrs. Chen gently squeezed Daphne’s shoulder.

The wail of sirens finally pierced through the smoke-filled air. Fire trucks and ambulances swarmed the street, their lights painting the charred buildings in alternating red and white. As paramedics rushed to help the injured, her mind latched onto those final words from the dragon shifter.

The Council is weak. Can't protect their own people.

Her heart lurched. "Hugo," she whispered, then broke into a frantic run.

Her feet pounded against the pavement as she sprinted toward City Hall, dodging emergency vehicles and debris. Her lungs burned from the smoke, but she didn't slow down. Small patches of grass sprouted in her wake, her magic leaking out with each anxious step.

The grand stone building came into view, miraculously intact. Two security guards stood at attention by the entrance, looking tense but unharmed.

"Marcus!" Daphne called out to the familiar face. "My brother-"

"Miss Throne!" The guard's weathered face softened. "Come with me."

She followed him through the marble corridors, her shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Her reflection in the brass elevator doors showed smudges of soot across her cheeks and flowers tangled in her dark brown hair.

The third floor was a hive of activity - phones ringing, people rushing back and forth with papers, voices raised in urgent discussion. Marcus led her to Hugo's office, where her brother paced behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear.

"Hugo!"

He spun around, phone forgotten. "Daph?"

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