How to Date a Dragon

Drake was working an overnight shift. He was probably in one of the trucks, if this was a fire. She hoped she was hearing police sirens instead. How sick is hoping for a robbery or attempted murder instead of another fire?

She grabbed a rag and strode to the table nearest the window, hoping to get a peek as either fire or police vehicles roared by.

Flashing lights lit up the night. Please be blue, please be blue. When the sirens deafened her, both red and blue light bars whizzed by. That meant both police and fire were responding. Crap. Well, maybe they needed the EMTs, not the firefighters. Somehow she knew that wasn’t the case.

As the sirens slowed down and stopped altogether, she realized the incident couldn’t be far away.

Suddenly the front door burst open and an excited man she recognized as a semi-regular shouted to the whole bar: “Hey! The bank on the corner is on fire.”

Some of the customers took it in stride, not moving from their bar stools. Many got up—joking about cold, hard cash turning hot and crispy—and followed Phil out the door.

The bank on the corner? Horror struck Bliss like a punch in the chest. “My designs!”

She threw the rag on the floor and charged out of the bar. Running at top speed, she made it to the corner before the firefighters had completely unfurled their hoses.

She spotted Drake. Part of her wanted to rush over and beg him to rescue her safe-deposit box. The other part of her knew she should stay out of the way. He didn’t need to get suspended twice in one month. Besides, how could he get into her safe deposit box without her key and the bank personnel? That’s why they called it a safe deposit box. She cupped the sides of her face and gazed in horror.

She watched him work. He strapped on his protective gear and rushed up the steps.

“Give me the hydro ram,” he shouted. One of the guys who followed handed him a sophisticated-looking tool. He had to try a few times but finally forced the door open. Smoke billowed out as Drake led the other firefighters into the building.

Her heart beat a little faster. Knowing he was fireproof certainly helped relieve some of her fear. Knowing he was such a heroic figure—and that he was hers—well, that got her heart pounding in another way. No wonder so many women go nuts for firefighters.

Someone sidled up to Bliss, and a female voice murmured, “Pretty cool, huh?”

Cool? A burning building? She turned toward the voice, ready to give the woman a piece of her mind, when she recognized her. That’s the woman who beat up Drake.

“What are you doing here?” Bliss made sure the woman understood that she knew exactly who was standing next to her and was none too pleased to see her.

“I’m watching the excitement, just like everyone else is.”

“Do you think you could do it from somewhere else?”

“Only if you come with me.”

Bliss felt something hard touch her back. She whirled around and saw a gun pointed at her midsection. Holy shit.

Reason dictated she should stay quiet and wait for the woman to tell her what she wanted. But when had Bliss ever been reasonable?

“Gun!” she yelled and grabbed the woman’s arm. She tried to press it over their heads and hold it that way until the nearest cop could reach them. She didn’t expect the woman to be so strong.

“Bitch,” the woman screamed. “You can’t have him.”

The weapon jabbed Bliss’s temple. The next thing she knew, she was being dragged across the street, away from the crowd.

“Halt!” Two cops already had their weapons drawn and trained on both of them.

“You don’t want to shoot,” the woman cried out over the noise and confusion. “You might hit an innocent woman.” Then she lowered her voice and growled in Bliss’s ear, “And by that I mean a not-so-innocent, boyfriend-stealing bitch.” Even though the woman had an accent, Bliss understood every word.

She still thinks she’s entitled to Drake. Bliss didn’t know what made psychotics tick, but right about now she wished she did. Maybe if I play along I’ll live long enough to get out of this. Not only didn’t she know if that was the right thing to do, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She saw one of the cops speaking into his radio. Hopefully he was calling for backup, but would they arrive in time? The nasty Rasta dragon had managed to spirit her around the corner and out of sight. A moment later, Bliss was able to answer her own question with a resounding “No.”

Something strange was happening. She felt as if claws were digging into her shoulders. Suddenly her feet left the pavement and she was soaring up into the night sky. For some damn reason, she pictured Dorothy being kidnapped by flying monkeys.

Do something, Bliss! The only thing that came to mind was to follow Dorothy’s example and let out a bloodcurdling scream—so she did.

An animalistic sound that might have been a laugh was the only response.

* * *

Drake and his buddies wrestled the fire under control in about half an hour. The bank suffered irreparable damage, not only by ravaging flames, but smoke and water destruction too. The overhead sprinklers helped save some areas, but not all.

His dragon warning tingles had begun during the fire, but he’d chalked them up to the possibility of his being in mortal danger—now that he was mortal. However, they hadn’t subsided.

Drake had been focused on the job, and it wasn’t until they pulled into the station that he wondered whether or not that was the bank in which Bliss had stored her CD. He’d call her as soon as he could. If nothing else, he’d be able to reassure her that the vault and safe deposit area weren’t affected.

She might experience a slight delay getting to her valuables, but she had until Monday to produce the designs she had been working so hard on. He was proud of himself for recalling a detail that was important to her but not so much to him. Too often he’d known men who only half listened to their wives or girlfriends and paid the price later.

He hung up his gear and trudged upstairs, looking forward to a shower. Bliss would still be at work, so he could wait to tell her about his day.

A little voice in his head argued, No. You need to call her now.

Not one to ignore so many portents, he grabbed his new cell phone and punched in the number for Bliss. When her voice mail offered to take a message and get back to him, he hung up and called the bar.

“Boston Uncommon, Angie speaking.”

“Hi, Angie. It’s Drake. Is Bliss there?”

“No. I was about to call you. She took off like a bat out of hell when the fire trucks drove by earlier and hasn’t come back yet. It’s busy and we need her.”

“She left you in the lurch? That doesn’t sound like the Bliss I know.”

“You don’t think something has happened to her, do you?”

Drake didn’t know what to say. Should he reassure Angie when he was almost positive something was drastically wrong? Hell.

“I’m going out to look for her. When I find her, I’ll call you and let you know what’s up.”

“Call Anthony. He’s worried about her too. Really worried.”

“Can you put Anthony on the phone?”

“Sure. Give me a minute.”

Drake paced as he listened to the sounds of a noisy bar. A few anxious moments passed before he heard Anthony’s voice.

“Drake. What’s going on?”

“Apparently Bliss is missing. Angie said she ran out during the fire, and I can’t get in touch with her.”

“That much I know. You didn’t see her at the scene, did you?”

“No, but she could have been there. I was focused on the job and didn’t pay much attention to the