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12
“When you said your work—yourlife—is dangerous, I didn’t fully grasphowdangerous.” Mom looked at me from the passenger seat as we drove back toBend.
“The dragon has taken it to a new level this week, but it’s not uncommon for the magical to attack me. I’ve been killing their kind for almost twenty years, first as a soldier and now as a government contractor. They don’t seem to realize that the ones I kill are horrible criminals and it would be best not to associate with them. They don’t get it that I won’t come after them unless they do something really, really wrong. It’sfrustrating.”
As evinced by my white knuckles around the steering wheel. And the tightness in my chest again. I felt the need to grab the inhaler, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Mom. In front of anyone. The only saving grace was that, so far, I’d been more prone to the lung constriction when I was in a quiet albeit stressful situation than when I was in battle. Maybe adrenaline helped keep the airways open. But could I count on that to last? I didn’tknow.
Rocket whapped his tail against the upholstery, wagging in sympathy. Or maybe he was showing relief that I’d dismissedSindari.
I’d sent him back to his realm, wanting him to be fresh if that dragon showed up again and I needed him. I was still almost shaking with anger at Zav’s audacity to want to use me as bait. If he showed up again to arrest someone I was in the middle of battling, I didn’t know what I would do, but I would complainvehemently.
Maybe it was possible to lodge a protest with his vaunted Dragon Justice Court. I would just have to figure out how to mail letters through a temporary magical portal to another world. Nobiggie.
“If you did something to help them,” Mom said, “thegoodones, maybe your reputation wouldimprove.”
I almost said there weren’t any good ones, but that wasn’t fair. Greemaw had helped me, and it wasn’t like the kids with the balls and pool toys had been oozing evil. Just because their families had fled their original worlds didn’t mean they were all criminals. Even if that was what I’d been taught during my military training, I’d seen plenty of examples otherwise over the years, so I knewbetter.
“Help them, how? It’s not like I’m rich enough to start afoundation.”
“Maybe you could hunt the people that hunt them forsport.”
I shot her a semi-confused look. “Is that athing?”
“Greemaw said it was. That’s why she’s invited so many to her secure valley. Some of the beings we saw were there to visit and trade, but a lot of them are too weak to fight groups of people with guns, so they’re hiding under her protection. They worry that if they defend themselves and kill a human, someone like you will come afterthem.”
“I wouldn’t. I research my contracts before I accept them.” I didnow. Now that I was an independent. Once, I hadn’t had the choice, and there had been a few assignments that had been less thanclearcut.
“I doubt they knowthat.”
“I’ll keep your suggestion in mind, but helping Colonel Willard is my priority rightnow.”
“I understand.” Mom removed her boots, plunking them down, along with her socks, and put her feet against thedashboard.
“Are you really seventy-one?”
“Do you ask because I’m far too healthy and spry to be so old or because you think retired people can’t bequirky?”
“Yes.”
She snorted. “I’m surprised you got the year right. You haven’t been around for a birthday in a long time. Or invited me to visit for any ofyours.”
“I know.” I didn’t want to argue again, so I left it atthat.
“Though now I understand a little better why,” she admitted softly without looking at me. “That werewolf almost got me. My bullets didn’t do anything againstit.”
Not sure what to say, I took the exit and headed toward herneighborhood.
“Should I get some silver bullets?” Mom asked. “I saw someone selling them in town and thought it was silly, but now I wonder. That’s the correct course against werewolves, isn’tit?”
“Silver is toxic to them, yes. You’d still have to plow one into their heart or brain to achieve a quick death. They’re hard tokill.”
“So Isaw.”
There were two black cars with government plates waiting in the gravel driveway as we approached. It had only been a matter oftime.
I was tempted to keep driving, zip around the block, drop Mom off somewhere safe, and head back to Seattle, but two agents in gray suits were standing outside and waiting. They looked right at us. Not that I couldn’t still run—I imagined the local news reporting on a high-speed chase through their quiet tourist town—but if I wanted my words to Zav to be true, that I wasn’t a criminal, I couldn’tflee.
Reluctantly, I pulled in behind their cars. Dimitri’s van was in its usual spot, in the gravel beside the driveway, but I didn’t see himaround.
