Page 48 of Hungry Like A Dragon
It worked.
He stopped stalking Noah and, reaching over his head, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her forward so that she flipped head over heel and landed on her back on the ground with a great, “Oomph,” as all the air left her lungs in a rush.
There was a roar, and Petra opened her eyes to see Noah slam his shoulder into the gargoyle’s gut, lifting him off his feet and sending him flying until he landed on his ass. And then Noah was on the guy, straddling his chest while he punched him, over and over until the guy’s face was a bloody mess.
“Get off him,” a female voice shouted.
Petra turned toward the sound in time to see Delilah’s hand light up with a glowing ball. “Duck,” she yelled at Noah, who instantly did as she said. The spell flew over his back and splattered against a tree, cracking and crashing one of the branches to the ground.
The action unbalanced him, though, and the gargoyle was able to scramble away toward the half-breed witch tossing spells every which way.
Wait—Delilah wasn’t the only witch in the vicinity. Noah was okay and everyone else was holding their own for the moment, so Petra followed the trail of trampled grass the old lady had created when she took off with Sadie. But once Petra stepped outside the ruins, she had no idea where to go.
“Follow me,” Argyle said, swooping down from the sky. His leathery wings folded like accordions and then seemed to melt into the skin exposed by his tank top, until they disappeared from view. He stomped through the undergrowth toward one of the old shacks, and she hurried after him.
A moment later, they climbed the groaning and creaking steps and burst through the front door. Petra skidded to a stop and stared at her surroundings. Whitewashed wooden furniture, gingham curtains, and antiquated iron light fixtures—it looked like she’d stepped into a country cottage, not the abandoned remnants of a slave’s quarters.
And there was Delilah’s mother, sitting in another rocking chair, next to a brick fireplace, with Sadie in her arms. Argyle brushed past Petra to the hearth.
“Doesn’t sound like the battle’s over yet,” the lady remarked.
“No, it isn’t. And I’m pretty confident your daughter has an edge with her ability to use witchcraft.” She moved closer, her gaze on Sadie, who was asleep, her thumb firmly stuck in her mouth.
So stinkin’ cute.
Focus, her dragon reminded her.
“And it seems like you might actually be on our side.”
The old lady shook her head. “Can’t abide the idea that my daughter is dealing drugs. Goes against everything I’ve ever taught her. And I know her father didn’t believe in that stuff, either, when he was alive.”
“Then, um, why don’t you go out there and help bring her down?”
She shook her head again. “Can’t.”
Petra waited, expecting an explanation. After a few moments of silence, she said, “Why not?”
The lady waved her free hand, as if encompassing the cottage. Or maybe the entire plantation. “Cursed. By my own daughter, no less.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dahlia was always overly emotional. Fell hard for every boy she ever dated. When she was sixteen, she was visiting her father for the weekend—we shared custody—and developed a crush on a dragon in the Rojo colony. So she moved in with her father full time, so she could be close to this guy, who, of course, eventually broke up with her. I mean, who finds true love at sixteen? Not to mention, you dragons have that whole fated mate thing going on, so he knew she wasn’t the one for him.
“Anyway, shortly after she graduated high school, she met another dragon and fell for him too. He was from up north. He took her back to his colony—your colony—and, of course, eventually broke up with her when he met his fated mate. For whatever reason, she stayed up there after the breakup and met Everest a few years later. And he did the same thing: broke up with her when he met his fated mate.
“I didn’t know she’d had a child with Everest until only a few years ago. If I had, I certainly would have figured out a way to be involved in my grandson’s life. By the time that little secret came out, I was already cursed and couldn’t leave this place.”
The woman sighed. “When my daughter returned home after Everest jilted her, she begged me to teach her witchcraft. Said she wanted to embrace this side of her heritage. She didn’t like being a dragon, and she wanted to pretend that side of her didn’t exist.
“That’s what she told me, anyway. It wasn’t until after I taught her everything I could that I realized her intent was to seek revenge. And after she successfully cursed your entire colony, she became power hungry. Went back to New Orleans to get revenge on that poor kid who was the first to jilt her. I’m not sure the point at which she got involved in the drug trade, but it goes along with her constant need for dominance. If she’s always in control, her heart remains safe. Her words, not mine, by the way.”
“And she cursed you at some point?” Petra prompted.
“Oh, right. Yes. When I discovered she was dealing drugs—back when she was still a dealer, not yet the supplier—I tried to stop her. But she’d been practicing her magic and was just as powerful as me. I wasn’t expecting it. Next thing I knew, I was trapped here on this plantation, unable to leave and unable to perform even the most basic of spells.”
Petra looked around at the beautifully decorated home inside this dilapidated shack. “Then how—?”
The old lady chuckled. “The internet isn’t magic. This décor is courtesy of Amazon. And Dahlia’s credit card. Apparently, she doesn’t mind if I spend her money so long as I stay out of her business.”
