Page 198 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

“I assume that means you disapprove.”

I did.

The next spell came fast. Dimitris looked at me and pointed sharply downward.

I understood him half a second before phoenix fire speared over my head, hot enough to turn the air white. I dropped low, claws biting into the stone, and drove my own fire up from beneath Luke’s shield at the exact same time.

The shield split.

Luke’s eyes widened.

For the first time, he looked afraid.

Good.

Dimitris moved left. I moved right. Luke snapped another glamour around himself, vanishing into empty air.

Max barked from behind the fallen case.

Quinn shouted, “Three steps left!”

I didn’t question her.

I struck three steps left.

My claws caught fabric and flesh.

Luke reappeared with a curse, dragged half a pace off balance. Dimitris seized his wrist before he could twist free. Fire crawled over Luke’s sleeve. The sorcerer screamed and dropped the small detonator charm he had been palming.

It hit the floor.

Quinn scrambled from cover, grabbed the bronze spear Dimitris had dropped earlier, and hooked the charm away before anyone could step on it.

“Mine now,” she said a little breathlessly.

Luke tried one last spell. I caught him by the throat in one clawed hand and lifted him off the ground. The spell died in his mouth.

The room went quiet except for fire, alarms finally waking somewhere distant, and Dimitris breathing hard beside me.

I looked at Luke Gildstein, at the man who had tried to turn heritage and greed and violence into another acquisition chain. His face had gone pale. His expensive composure had cracked.

I couldn’t speak in this form, but I didn’t need to.

I tightened my grip just enough for understanding, then threw him into the nearest wall.

He hit it and slid down, unconscious.

Dimitris turned toward Luke. The fire around him didn’t die back. It tightened. Sharpened. The bright gold heat drew closer to his skin until he looked less like a man burning and more like fire had decided to wear him.

Luke stirred.

Dimitris crossed the room without hurry.

“Dimitris,” Quinn said.

He didn’t look back. Luke’s eyes opened.

For one bare second, the sorcerer’s composure returned. A thin, ugly smile. One last scrap of confidence from a man who still believed there was a rule somewhere he could exploit.