The Dragon's Daughter

Chapter 5

Saturday 9:40 a.m.

The dark shadow that fell over me and a small "hmm-hmm" throat-clearing sound, was what made me eventually look up. Otherwise, I would have stayed there, leaning against that little yellow pole in the parking lot. Staring at a chewed-up piece of gum stuck to the pavement, pretending I wasn't really there.

But when I did look up, I was stricken by the clearest set of blue eyes I had ever seen. They didn't even look real; they were so crystal blue. I had probably huffed too much Walmart gas though, so I took a deep breath again and peered at the face that went with those Artic eyes.

He was young, about my age. Handsome too. Blonde and tall. My face smiled at him before I gave it permission. Stupid. Stupid me. Smiling at strange men was how bad things happened. I watched true-crime TV. I knew.

He smiled back, and I melted. He was wearing well-fitting blue jeans and a plain grey hoodie. He had his hands in his pockets and said simply, "Hello."

His voice was warm, like the sun in his hair, and I smiled a little more brightly, "Hi," I returned before I'd realized.

"Hi yourself. I'm glad I caught up to you." Once he'd said more than a few words to me, I realized Blondie spoke with a slight British accent. Swoon.

"Were you inside that insanity that was Walmart?" I asked,trying to play it cool.

He chuckled low in his chest and I smiled again, the sound sending butterflies through me. Who was this guy?

"No" he told me, "I was out here when the police came though. It looked positively nuts."

"Yeah." I nodded. "Are you with them? The police, I mean?" He looked a bit on the young side to be a cop. I could have sworn he was around my age, but who knew? Maybe he was just a baby face.

"No. No." He laughed again. "I should start this off right. I'm Gabe Watkins." He extended his hand to me. How formal—and a little awkward. It was my turn to chuckle. I shook his hand.

"Ok, Gabe. Nice to meet you. I'm Raina Brandt."

"To be fair, I kind of already know who you are." He gave me a little smile.

I sucked in a breath of surprise. Was he one of those handsome psycho killers the TV documentaries warn you about?

"I don't mean to freak you out by saying that." He bounced back. "It's just that I have something I need to tell you. Something only you can help me with."

"You need my help?" That was weird. And it piqued my curiosity at the same time.

"Yes. I'm assuming you didn't enjoy what went on in Walmart."

"No. No I did not." That was putting it mildly.

"What if I told you that what happened in Walmart was going to happen all over the world soon. Just chaos. Everywhere."

I paused a moment before replying honestly, "I'd probably vomit."

"Please watch the shoes," he joked, "they're new."

The joke fell flat however as I looked at him with fearful eyes. Was he telling me anything even remotely true?

"Look. I'm sorry to lay this on you, but I know people who can stop that from happening. People who can put things back the way they were before. But we need your help."

I shook my head, "Listen. I think you have the wrong person entirely. There is nothing I can do about what happened in there, much less about keeping it from spreading." Was it a virus or something? This dude needed the CDC or some crap, not a High School Senior. Granted, I did want to major in pre-med when I graduated but that was hardly helpful now. I looked at him like maybe he was one chalupa short of a taco truck.

"If there was anybody else to ask, that's where I'd be." He sounded convinced. "I'm here because your father has something very precious and very dangerous."

Well he had my full attention now. My eyes rounded out like saucers. My father was a stay at home dad. My mom was the one who worked as a nurse. What could my father possibly possess that would cause all this?

"It's called the Heart," he told me. "It's an artifact from a long time ago that is causing the chaos."

"You make my dad sound like Indiana Jones." I chuckled. My father used to tell me all kinds of bedtime stories. One of them was about a Crystal Heart made by Dwarves with the help of a Dragon but it was a child's story.

Gabe shook his head, "All I know is that if you don't help us get this item from him and to the people that can help put things back to normal, you can expect more of this." He gestured to the parking lot where fire trucks and police cars had their lights flashing blue and red.

I blinked at him. Was this guy threatening me?

"You don't have to decide now." He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Call me when you get in over your head. And yes, I do mean when."

Despite a small voice telling me this whole thing was impossible, I reached out and took the paper. It had a phone number written on it in neat script.

"One last thing," he told me as he turned to go, "you need to know that dragons are real."

I started laughing but he never turned back around to tell me he was joking and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with that information. Dragons are real.

The whole idea was absurd.