stop this lunatic dragon.
Then again, it wasn’t just Val and him.
“I can stop you.”
Lizzy turned, and so did everyone else. There was no one there, just a vague disturbance of the air. Then Hobb stood there, dropping whatever glamour the fey used to hide. Robin appeared as well, several feet behind him, fear plain on her face.
“You?!
“With this,” Hobb said.
He held up a small pocketknife.
Griffen expected her to laugh, she should have laughed. Instead, she looked insulted. Claws grew again at the ends of her fingers, and Griffen knew with a certainty the changeling had just committed suicide.
“With that, you would take a dragon with a letter opener? You are too stupid to live,” said Lizzy.
“Well, you would know all about that,” Hobb said.
He flicked open the blade, a plain, straight blade. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew the blade against his knuckles.
Blood welled over his fingers, and he clenched his hand into a fist.
Lizzy looked uncertain; she seemed fascinated by the dripping blood.
“What’s that for?”
“This.”
Hobb stepped forward, his face resolute and grim, and slammed his fist as hard as he could into her mouth. She didn’t move, didn’t bother blocking, just let him hit her.
It didn’t even move her head back, didn’t even split her lip. All the blood on her face was his. She ran a finger over her lips and sucked idly at the crimson smear.
“Well, that was cute, now if you don’t mind I’d like to kill you and get on with my—”
Lizzy took a dizzy step backward and almost fell over. “What did you—” she started to say, and almost fell again.
“Ms. Valerie, I would hit her now. I don’t know how long it will last with a dragon.” Hobb called out, stepping away from the staggering Lizzy.
Val didn’t question, she approached cautiously, just in case it was another act. She stopped as George called out to her.
“Start big, work up from there.”
He drew his sword, and it was obviously not a costume foil. He tossed it to her, and she plucked it from the air, staring at the still-dizzy dragon. Griffen wondered what good a sword was.
“Kill… must… kill,” Lizzy sputtered.
“Must I?” Val said.
She shoved the blade through Lizzy’s right eye.
Lizzy screamed and ripped the sword from Val’s hand, throwing it away. She struck out again, clumsily, and Val blocked it easily. Her next hit sent Lizzy to the ground, and this time Valerie didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop. At first it was still a fight, then just a beating, all of Val’s rage and frustration given a way to vent itself.
The crowd had gone still when Hobb had acted and went silent now. No one knew what to say.
Griffen saw a tear on his sister’s cheek, and even in the quiet only his acute hearing heard her whisper, “I suppose I must.”
Griffen saw her dig her hands around Lizzy’s throat. The other dragon was barely conscious, and blood flowed from more than just the ruined eye. Val started to squeeze.
“Val, stop, don’t do it!”
Val didn’t stop, but tears still flowed over her face.
“She won’t stop, Griffen. You have seen it. What other way?!”
“We will find one. You don’t have to be… like her.”
“I have to protect… everyone,” Val said.
“Actually… that’s more my job description.”
Griffen usually was tough to surprise, but the shocks he had received in the last few minutes had burned out his resistance. He stood with his mouth hanging. He knew that voice, and of all the people he did not expect tonight, this one was more surprising than Lizzy.
He was dressed as a ghost, if you can call a sheet with holes in it a costume. Everyone was pretty much looking puzzled at him, no one but Griffen and maybe Mai or Val recognizing just the voice. Few even recognized him when he pulled the sheet off, though most stiffened when they saw the revolver in his hand.
Detective Harrison looked happier than Griffen could remember seeing him ever before. A vice detective must always enjoy coming out from undercover.
“Ms. Valerie, most of what I’ve seen tonight has been self-defense. You don’t want to make my life hell by having to drag a pretty lady like you in for murder, do you?” Harrison said.
Val stared as openly as Griffen. Harrison idly waved with the revolver. Despite how little that must have meant to her just then, Griffen was relieved when his sister released Lizzy’s throat and stood up.
Lizzy smiled, her sunny smile, ruined by several broken teeth.
“Din’ wan kill you anyway…” she said hoarsely, blood bubbling from her lips. “Like… to be…’untie Lizzy.”
With that, she smiled brighter, and her remaining eye rolled up into her head. She passed out, though she kept breathing, ragged and slow.
Griffen filed what she’d said away for later.
“Detective Harrison—” Griffen started.
“Shove it, McCandles. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
Harrison looked around the room, and for a second his eyes seemed haunted. Even before the fight, he had to have seen many things that night, too many things.
“Would this even hurt you?” Harrison asked, pointing his piece at Griffen.
“Are we going to find out?” Griffen said.
The two locked eyes, and for a long moment it looked as if the answer was yes. Griffen saw several people shifting behind Harrison. They had helped him with a dragon; they wouldn’t hesitate over a human cop.
Harrison shook his head and put the piece in his holster.
“No. I’ve got my murderer. You are off the hook on the Slim case.”
“What makes you think she is the murderer?” Griffen said, confused.
People started all around the room. Apparently, everyone had pretty much come to the same conclusion as Harrison. Lizzy was obviously insane, and violent, and a whole lot of other things that would make her suspect number one in any murder investigation.
But Griffen hadn’t once thought to connect her to Slim, and now wasn’t sure why.
He looked around the damage of the room. The broken furniture. The wounded guests. Lizzy’s own trashed and bloodied body. The loup garou she had dragged in.
“What do you mean? Of course she’s a murderer!”
“Probably…” Griffen said distractedly.
He was still running on adrenaline, but now he wasn’t consumed with his fear and anger. He was thinking clearly, thinking fast. The loup garou…
“A murderer probably. But what makes you think she’s
“Look, McCandles, if you are jerking me around again…” Griffen tuned out the detective for a moment. A body. The search parties. Lizzy.
A wooden stake.
“Tammy,” Griffen said quietly.
“What?” Val asked, still standing over Lizzy, still on guard.
“Tammy isn’t here… She was hunting with the garou. Why wouldn’t she be with them?”
“Maybe Lizzy killed…” Val said.
The doors to the ballroom burst open for the second time tonight. Deja vu washed over most of those
