Page 146 of Dragon Her Heels

“He would prefer if you did the thanking while naked and in your bed,” Hugh informed me in a solemn tone.

I snickered. “Once I’m out of the body shop, and I have enjoyed some pampering, I think I’ll do just that. Hit me with your best shot, just don’t send me back to the valley. I think I’ve had enough of that for a few years.”

“That you have. When the morning comes, all will be well.”

* * *

As promised, all evidence of the stroke disappeared, resulting in a confused medical staff, who had run me through their various machines when I had requested an estimate for my departure. As I had gone from possessing a rather bruised and unhappy brain to a healthy one, I received the desired discharge, thus throwing everyone in my life for a loop.

Yuless had not been prepared for me to return home immediately.

“Already?” he blurted for the sixth time.

It amazed me his poor phone survived his flailing about. Something in our home did not, and I sighed at the crash. “Calm down. I can get a ride from Lucifer or one of his demons, I’m sure. There’s no need to panic. I’m still requiring a great deal of attention and pampering from you as part of my recovery plan. That is not negotiable.”

“I was working on a present for you, and I don’t know if it can be made ready before you get here!”

Dragons. I smiled at his plight. “How about I find an escort, wander to a bookstore, and work on filling our library? Dragons need libraries.”

The noise quieted, and my fiancé made a thoughtful sound. “I do like books. Can you give me three hours? I can have everything ready in three hours.”

“I can give you three hours,” I replied. “I’ll even get you a small present for your hoard. Dragons need new items in their hoards, else they might perish.”

“I really might. It would be a tragedy if I were to perish because I didn’t have any items in my hoard from my future wife. Can you tell me more about my present?”

“I will give you the item before I get naked and throw myself onto our bed. That’s part of the present.”

“Now I regret I require three hours to finish this.”

I laughed at his misfortunes. “Good luck with your project. I’ll call you if I’m delayed for any reason.”

“Okay. That works. Thank you. I love you. Please do not get into any trouble.”

“I’ll do my best. I love you, too.” I hung up before one of us became wishy-washy, a real concern considering the stress we’d both been under. With Yuless handled, I dug through my contacts, selecting the dragon’s old friend as my target. I dialed, put the phone to my ear, and waited.

“How can I help you, Crystal?”

“How good are you at finding things people don’t want found, Hagnar?”

Yuless’s companion made a thoughtful sound. “For you, better than most. What do you need?”

“I want to find the person who shot me. I might be inclined to present their head on a silver platter to my fiancé.”

With luck, Yuless would grow more comfortable and confident in my survivability, but I would need to stop having close encounters of the lethal kind to make that happen.

“While I cannot recommend the presentation of heads on silver platters, for you would need numerous heads on numerous platters, I can help you with that problem. Of course, I’m already ahead of you because Yuless already asked me for help. He didn’t pay me not to spill his secrets, however, and I owe you a great debt. All he’s done is give me headaches lately.”

Poor Hagnar. “At least he doesn’t flail quite as much as Kanika,” I reminded him.

The man heaved a sigh. “That girl, I swear.”

“What did Kanika do now?”

“She brought her kelpie over, made me take her into my storage warehouse, and went on a rampage trying to find gifts, as it seems she’s gotten it into her head that nobody will like her if she doesn’t provide them with a gift. Her current idea of gifting involves guns and the training to use them to all her family and friends who are not armed. Apparently, the shooting has riled everybody. She also wants the shooter’s head on a silver platter. I do not understand the appeal of silver for such things, personally. Silver platters are often filigreed, and this is a nightmare to clean without magic.”

“I have magic, and I’m willing to use it,” I stated in my coolest tone. “Here’s the deal: this shooter is willing to risk killing others to get to me. Since shooting me didn’t work, I’m worried they’ll escalate to something of a larger scale. I want the bastard dealt with, ideally in Lucifer’s loving care.”

A pop announced an unwanted arrival, and I heaved a sigh. “Excuse me, Lucifer’s not-so-loving care.”