Page 2 of Hot for the Dragon (Saltwater Grove #3)

2

DAPHNE

S moke stung Daphne's eyes as she picked her way through the debris-strewn street. Her green magic tingled uselessly under her skin, reaching for plants that were no longer there.

"Hello? Anyone need help?" she called out, moving toward Mrs. Chen's alterations shop next door.

A cough answered her. "Over here!"

She found Mrs. Chen helping an elderly customer from behind a fallen shelf. "Daphne! Your shop-"

"Gone," Daphne said, forcing a small smile. "But we're not, and that's what matters. Let me help you with him."

Together, they guided the man outside where others were gathering. Someone had dragged picnic tables from the park to create makeshift beds.

"I wish I knew healing magic," Daphne muttered, tearing strips from her apron to bandage a young woman's burned arm. "All I can do is grow pretty flowers."

"Pretty flowers saved my life once," the woman said through gritted teeth. "Allergic reaction. Your moonflower tincture."

"Still." Daphne tied off the bandage. "Right now we need water magic, healing magic - anything but green magic."

A child crying caught her attention. She found a little boy clutching a singed teddy bear, tears cutting clean tracks through the soot on his face.

"Hey there." Daphne knelt beside him. "Want to see something cool?"

She touched a crack in the sidewalk where a dandelion had somehow survived. With a gentle push of magic, she coaxed it to grow and bloom. The boy's sobs turned to hiccups as he watched the yellow flower dance and bow.

"Magic," he whispered.

"Sometimes the smallest things make the biggest difference," she said, though her heart ached thinking of her lost shop. The singing snapdragons would never harmonize again.

Mrs. Chen appeared at her elbow with bottles of water. "You're good at this, you know. Helping people."

"I just wish I could do more."

"Sometimes just being here is enough." Mrs. Chen gently squeezed Daphne’s shoulder.

The wail of sirens finally pierced through the smoke-filled air. Fire trucks and ambulances swarmed the street, their lights painting the charred buildings in alternating red and white. As paramedics rushed to help the injured, her mind latched onto those final words from the dragon shifter.

The Council is weak. Can't protect their own people.

Her heart lurched. "Hugo," she whispered, then broke into a frantic run.

Her feet pounded against the pavement as she sprinted toward City Hall, dodging emergency vehicles and debris. Her lungs burned from the smoke, but she didn't slow down. Small patches of grass sprouted in her wake, her magic leaking out with each anxious step.

The grand stone building came into view, miraculously intact. Two security guards stood at attention by the entrance, looking tense but unharmed.

"Marcus!" Daphne called out to the familiar face. "My brother-"

"Miss Throne!" The guard's weathered face softened. "Come with me."

She followed him through the marble corridors, her shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Her reflection in the brass elevator doors showed smudges of soot across her cheeks and flowers tangled in her dark brown hair.

The third floor was a hive of activity - phones ringing, people rushing back and forth with papers, voices raised in urgent discussion. Marcus led her to Hugo's office, where her brother paced behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear.

"Hugo!"

He spun around, phone forgotten. "Daph?"

She crashed into him, throwing her arms around his middle like she used to do when they were kids. He smelled like his usual mix of herbs and old books, not smoke or fire or worse things she didn't want to imagine.

"You're okay," she mumbled into his shirt.

"Of course I'm okay." He squeezed her tight. "But your shop - I heard about Main Street."

Daphne pulled back from Hugo's embrace, her eyes stinging with more than just smoke. "My singing snapdragons, Hugo. My dancing daisies. Everything I built, just... gone." Her magic stirred restlessly, causing the potted fern in Hugo's office to stretch toward her in sympathy.

"The insurance-"

"It's not about the money." Daphne sank into one of his leather chairs, absently picking ash from her hair. "Those were living things. My creations. And that dragon, she just..." Her hands clenched in her lap.

Hugo perched on the edge of his desk. "Tell me everything."

"This massive dark blue dragon - I mean, huge, like a house - she torched the whole block. Then she shifted right there in the street." Daphne's voice shook. "She had this look in her eyes, Hugo. Like she was enjoying it."

"What exactly did she say?"

"That the Council was weak. Couldn't protect anyone." Daphne watched her brother's face darken. "She said she and her wing would be back to take over. Who is she?"

Hugo ran his hand through his brown hair. "Carmen Kane. She's been causing trouble up and down the coast, absorbing smaller dragon wings into her own. Those who refuse..." He trailed off meaningfully.

"Sounds like a charming lady." Daphne's green magic flared, and the fern grew another foot. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Better the plant than my paperwork." Hugo attempted to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "She believes dragons should rule, and through strength alone. No compromise, no cooperation with other magical beings or humans."

"Because that's worked so well historically," Daphne muttered.

Daphne straightened in her chair, her magic causing the fern's leaves to rustle. "So, what's the Council planning to do? We have other shifters, vampires, witches - surely we can mount some kind of defense?"

Hugo shuffled papers on his desk, avoiding her gaze. "That would be... our last resort."

"Last resort? She burned down half of Main Street!"

"Think about it, Daph. Carmen showed up with what, a dozen dragons?"

"Something like that." The memory of massive wings blocking out the sun made her shiver.

"That's nothing. It was a warning shot." Hugo leaned forward, his expression grave. "Dragon shifters are the most dangerous of all supernatural beings. They're practically living weapons. A full-scale war would devastate the town."

Daphne's fingers traced the arm of her chair. "But we can't just do nothing."

"We're not." Hugo straightened his tie. "The Council's voting to open negotiations first."

"Negotiations? With someone who thinks burning shops is a reasonable opening statement?"

Hugo cleared his throat. "We have to at least try. We figure dragon shifters typically only respect other dragons. It's a cultural thing. That's why we're reaching out to Archer Hawke to assist us."

"Archer Hawke?" Daphne's magic spiked, causing Hugo's fern to sprout tiny blue flowers. "The same Archer Hawke who hasn't been seen in town for what, three years?"

"Two and a half," Hugo corrected, plucking one of the unexpected blooms. "And yes."

Daphne slumped back in her chair, memories of whispered rumors floating through her mind. "The one who lives in that creepy mansion on the hill like some kind of..." She waved her hand, searching for the right words. "Dragon Batman?"

"He's not that bad."

"What makes you think he'll help? From what I understand, he's not exactly the friendly neighborhood dragon type."

"He's still one of the most powerful dragon shifters alive," Hugo said. "And he has a history of standing against wings that abuse their power."

"Had," Daphne corrected. "Now he has a history of making wooden models and glaring at people who get too close to his property." Her magic reached out unconsciously, and the fern's flowers changed from blue to a worried purple.

Hugo noticed the color change and smiled. "You're concerned."

"Of course I'm concerned! Our best hope is a grumpy hermit who probably hasn't had a proper conversation in years." She crossed her arms. "Does he even know what's happening in town?"

"Hard to miss dragons setting things on fire."

"You know what I mean."

Hugo stood up. "Well, I'm heading up to his place tomorrow morning to speak with him."

Daphne watched her brother gather his papers, her mind racing. The image of her burning shop flashed through her mind again, along with Mrs. Chen's frightened face and that little boy's tears.

Daphne's magic curled through her fingers as she straightened in her chair. "Well then, I'm coming with you tomorrow."

"Absolutely not." Hugo's hand smacked against his desk. "This isn't some garden party, Daph. Archer Hawke is-"

"Dangerous? Unpredictable?" The fern's flowers darkened to a deep crimson. "So is Carmen, and she just burned down my entire livelihood."

"Which is exactly why you should stay away from this." Hugo's voice softened. "Let me handle it."

Daphne stood, her magic causing tiny vines to creep across the office floor. "I watched people running from their shops today. I bandaged burns. I held a crying child while his teddy bear smoldered." She met her brother's concerned gaze. "I'm tired of just watching, Hugo."

"This isn't your fight."

"She made it my fight when she turned my snapdragons into ash." The vines reached the desk, curling around its legs. "Besides, you need all the help you can get. What's your plan - knock on his door and ask nicely?"

Hugo pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have diplomatic experience-"

"And I have actual experience talking to people who aren't politicians." The vines retreated as Daphne took a deep breath. "Let me help."

"Daphne..." Hugo's shoulders slumped. "If anything happened to you-"

"Nothing will happen. We're just talking to a grumpy dragon who likes woodworking." She touched her brother's arm. "Please."

Hugo studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. But you stay behind me, and if he shows any sign of-"

"Thank you." Daphne hugged him tight, her magic finally settling. "What time do we leave?"

"Eight sharp. And Daph?" He pulled back to look at her. "No bringing any plants. The last thing we need is you accidentally growing a forest on his lawn."

"No promises," Daphne said, but her small smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Tomorrow, she'd face the infamous Archer Hawke. She just hoped he was more amenable to visitors than the rumors suggested.