Charred Heart (#1, Heart of Fire)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

From the parking lot, Skylar watched the magnificent dragon circle and land somewhere behind the bar. Its size was stunning, and she convinced herself it was like the moon: it always looked bigger on the horizon, but it was just a matter of perspective.

Otherwise, she wasn’t certain she wanted anything to do with the massive creature she was there to cage and deliver to the center where shifters were rehabilitated and integrated into society. It was too dark for her to tell its color with any certainty, but she guessed blue. Its wingspan was close to sixty feet, unless her eyes were tricking her, and its body the size of an SUV from the distance.

A flicker of recognition went through her, an unexpected sense of familiarity with the dragon. It was like a tiny flame lighting in her blood. Did the other slayers experience this when they found the shifters they were tracking?

Skylar approached the biker bar, not enthused about walking into a seedy, filthy, scary place she didn’t want to be to confront a creature much bigger than she was. It was close to midnight, and the bar was hopping. Classic rock and smoke rolled out of the door, propped open to let in the cool night air.

“Looks like he’s here,” she whispered under her breath. The sensitive microphone she wore disguised in the choker at her neck was sure to pick up her voice. She scratched the back of her neck absently. It was the spot that grew itchy whenever a shifter was nearby.

“This guy has been a bitch to track, but I think we finally got him,” replied the voice of Dillon via the small bud in her ear. Dillon’s tone was always clipped and irritated, a reminder that he was more than a coworker – he was also her ex-boyfriend.

“You mean I finally got him,” she replied.

A dragon slayer, Skylar was tracking one of the most elusive shifters they’d ever met. It meant he was old. Experienced. Not likely to go down easy, which was why she had a team of two more shifter slayers waiting in the parking lot. The three of them could handle anything. She wore tight leather pants and a snug, soft t-shirt that clung to her body in all the right places. Her steel-toed boots would crack a skull and the slender, golden lasso in her pocket would tame even the strongest dragon.

If she got it over his head, of course. That’s usually where slayers got into trouble, because it wasn’t exactly easy to lasso someone discreetly, especially if they knew what was coming at them.

An image popped into her thoughts, one that made her pause.

A dark-haired woman sat beside her at a table in a large kitchen. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of the window over the sink, and music played softly somewhere in the house.

The woman beside her was gorgeous with blue eyes and a smile that filled Skylar with warmth.

“We are the dragons’ protectors,” the woman said.

“They’re so big, mama! How do I protect them?” Skylar heard herself respond. She was no more than six or seven at the time.

“You only have to protect one. You’ll get your very own dragon.”

“Woooooow. When?”

“When the time is right. You must learn how to guard them from harm, first.”

“I want to learn now!” Skylar leapt out of her seat. “I want my dragon! Where is he?”

“You’ll know him when you meet him, Sky.”