“Cassandra!” he called. “I hoped you’d still be here.” His expression, which had been open and friendly, began to lock down as he took in his surroundings. After a swift recon his gaze returned to her, his right hand moving slowly to his back. “Is everything okay?”
I could see the slow dawn of horror rounding out her eyes, nailing her feet to the floor. She tried to nod, but her head jerked to the side instead. Movement from our guests pulled my attention away from her.
Li had put the snail in his own mouth. I watched him swallow with a strange sense of distance, as if I were three hundred miles away, looking through the lens of a telescope. And in my mind, one word began to rotate around and around . . .
Pengfei pulled harder on Lung’s robes, trying to break his concentration, make him look at her. But the dragon was intent on his prey.
He leaped onstage without warning, closing the distance between them so fast Cassandra didn’t even have time to scream. He’d just reached the table when Preston called out sternly, “Stop, or I’ll shoot!”
I spared him a quick glance. He’d pulled his Kimber .45, all right, and if we good guys didn’t stay low we might catch some of his lead.
“Preston!” Cassandra screamed.
Lung had turned on the SWAT man, his mouth just finishing its transformation into a muzzle. Knowing what came next, I ran at Preston and tackled him, driving us both to the ground just as Lung let loose with a massive jet of flame. Heat poured over the top of us, singeing but not searing.
I yanked up my skirt and grabbed my .38. I’d have to be damn close for a lethal shot, but it was better than nothing. I craned my neck, trying to see if Lung had another dose coming, but he’d turned back to Cassandra. Only she’d disappeared.
As he stood, momentarily baffled, both Vayl and Pengfei reached the stage. At the same time Bergman and Cole had each grabbed one of the fire extinguishers sitting in the back corners of the tent and headed toward the middle, where several benches were burning.
Smoke began to drift through the tent, making my eyes water. I looked for Li and saw him diving out the back way. Apparently he had no interest in fire or blood-hungry dragons.
On the stage, Vayl reached Lung just as he tipped the table over backward with a spectacular crash, revealing Cassandra crouching underneath. But she’d gone into hiding armed with a knife, which she drove toward Lung’s groin with desperate speed.
As I reached the stage stairs Vayl’s power rushed through the room, dropping the temperature by forty degrees. Frost coated every surface. Though being Sensitive gave me something of a resistance to vampiric powers, I still felt like I’d been ice fishing for an hour without a coat.
The back of Lung’s robe ripped open, giving me an excellent view of those launchable spines. I feared Vayl would get a chest full, standing right behind Lung as he was, but ice had formed around the base of the spines, preventing their release.
Cassandra’s knife didn’t penetrate, but the blunt force caused Lung to roar in pain as it struck. At the same time, Vayl wrapped his arm around Lung’s neck and pulled him backward. I didn’t think he had a plan beyond getting him away from Cassandra.
A spurt of flame from Lung’s muzzle caught the top of the tent. Fire erupted on the canvas and licked its way in every direction. I heard Preston on the phone as he came closer, moving as if every one of his joints had frozen, calling for fire trucks, police, ambulance, the works. He climbed up on the stage beside me, helped me pull Cassandra to her feet and hustle her toward the back of the tent.
I stopped, trained my .38 on Pengfei. She was yelling at Lung in Chinese as she pulled two throwing stars from her pockets. I shot her as she wound up and she lurched sideways. She still managed to throw one, hitting Vayl in the thigh. It staggered him enough to weaken his hold on Lung, who tore away and grabbed Pengfei.
By now flames engulfed the entire tent roof. At any moment it would fall and then we’d be some crispy critters. Cole and Bergman backed toward the front exit yelling, “Get out! Get out!” I couldn’t see Preston and Cassandra, which probably meant they’d already left.
I ran to Vayl, who had jerked the throwing star out of his leg. Blood spurted from the wound in steady bursts, soaking his pants and leaving a solid trail as I pulled him backstage and out of the tent. Cole and Bergman waited for us there, Bergman holding the RV keys in his hand.
“Help me with him,” I told Cole as I led Vayl toward the seawall. Without a word, Cole put a shoulder under Vayl’s arm. My concern deepened when Vayl allowed him to help.
“Okay if I move the RV?” Bergman asked.
“As soon as you bring us the first-aid kit.”
That job done, Bergman drove our temporary headquarters out of the fire’s reach, as Cole and I worked to get the bleeding under control. When the first step is yanking a belt around your patient’s thigh, the project is not going well.
“In all your long life, didn’t anyone ever once tell you not to pull out something after it had been stuck into you?” I hissed as Cole tugged the belt tight and I laid on the gauze.
Vayl didn’t reply, though I could feel his leg stiffen under my hand. I thought it was a reaction to physical pain until Cole said, “Jaz, maybe you shouldn’t yell at the bleeding guy who just pulled crazy dragon dude off our psychic friend.”
“Oh my God.” I looked from Vayl to Cole and back again. “I’ve become my mother. Quick, look, have I developed bitchy naggy lines beside my mouth?” I turned my head from side to side so they could see better.
“I have lived long enough to be able to tell the difference between genuine concern and petty complaints,” Vayl said. He leaned his forehead against mine. “Now, calm down. This bleeding is simply a result of refusing to hunt. There is a quality in the blood of living donors that seems to go missing once it is packaged. Jasmine, I will recover, much sooner than any human could.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “And it was worth the wound to see the worry on your face.”
