Page 11 of Red Dragon’s Flame

She immediately brightened up. “Hell yeah, I am. Do we get to kill anyone? It will cheer me up.”

said Mikah’s dragon, making sure Michelangela could hear.

“Excellent.” She picked up her backpack and they headed for the castle.

Late that evening Devon was at her computer array, wiping drives and shutting things down in preparation for leaving.

All her vital information was stored remotely, in a place only she could get to.

She might be a black hat—or at best a gray hat—but there were people out there way worse than her. She couldn’t let her secrets fall into the wrong hands.

She was down to the last thing—her gaming console. She was already due at her rendezvous with Starthrower.

He’d sent her a message earlier, asking if she was okay.

Ha. No. But there was nothing he could do.

Everything inside her ached to talk to him one last time, but she knew she shouldn’t. It was too dangerous for him.

The Allohim were getting nearer. She could feel them, like shadows in the dark, getting closer. The tattoo on her back prickled all the way up her spine, like little flames licking her spinal column.

Had they tracked her by her online presence? She was good—the best—but they had magic.

Or they might be tracking the tattoo itself, the magic that kept her alive.

When Auntie May was alive, her magic had kept them both safe, but the wards she’d put up had died with her, and the ones she’d tried to put into magical items weren’t strong enough. She’d used the last of her power on them, but it wasn’t enough.

In the end, it didn’t matter how the Allohim had found her. She just knew that they had—or soon would.

She was running out of time.

With another glance into the darkness at the doorway, Devon put her hands to her keyboard and began to type:

Things are coming crashing down. I won’t see you for a while.

Probably not ever again, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that.

I wish you could come in your fur loincloth and smite the dark angels, but I know you can’t. And I wouldn’t want you to really—I don’t want you mixed up in my mess. I want you to have your nice normal life and be happy—

There was a sound in the outer room—a brushing sound, like giant wing feathers.

Devon went still. Was she imagining it? They couldn’t be that close.

But they were. They were here.

She hit the enter key just as the door crashed open, a huge winged figure with glowing eyes.

The room erupted in flames.

Chapter 7

Mikah had spent the evening lurking by his game console, like a teenager waiting for his crush to call.

It might be stupid and pathetic, but he had a bad feeling about Shadowfire. That whatever was wrong, it was more than whining kids or a husband bitching about her gaming.

Husband. The very thought made a fire burn in his gut. Especially the thought of a husband who didn’t appreciate her.

his dragon said.