The Dragon had saved her from them. Before she could thank it, it rushed forward and grabbed her with its talons. They scratched but did not puncture her skin as the beast pulled her against the cool scales of its chest and flew out the window.
Chapter 2
Despite Ruby’s exhaustion, grief and terror kept ripping her from sleep. Well before dawn, she was scouring the Internet for stories about ball lightning. Turned out, ball lightning was a mysterious phenomenon having various shapes and colors. Though it could melt metal, it passed through windows and even screens without causing a bit of damage. It rarely killed a human, and nowhere did she find an account of one chasing down or lancing someone.
And what about the knives that seemed to exude some kind of energy…and affected the orb?
She’d told the lieutenant about the freak bolt of lightning from the storm, omitting most of the bizarre stuff like how it tried to keep her from escaping. Not that he’d have believed her anyway. Mon had said something about magick and Rule Number One, whatever that was.
Had Mon been rambling from shock? He’d been lucid enough to mention the envelope he’d told her to retrieve should anything ever happen to him. She figured it involved inheritance issues or business matters. That he’d mentioned it as he suffered an agonizing death meant it was way more important. Was there a chance it survived? Doubtful, but she had to try to find it. She also needed to find the Book of the Hidden that Mon kept in his office. While she had treasured the stories like a chest of jewels as a child, she outgrew them in her early teens and could only remember the essence of them.
The thought of going back to his house chilled her. What if the orb was there or the person who’d sent it? Had it chased her because she was a witness? Probably. How much did this Sin Tag know about her?
She had searched for variations of that name, too, thinking it was a company or government agency. No luck. Maybe SINTAG was a top-secret project and the orb some superweapon. Yeah, that made sense, except…how would her uncle get involved with something like that?
She pulled on old jeans and a T-shirt, stopping short at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. A lock of singed hair curled in tiny spirals over her bandage. She lopped off the burnt portion, which made one chunk of hair shorter than the rest, so she evened them out.
Ruby called Nevin on the way to let him know she wouldn’t be in. She’d given him the freak bolt of lightning story last night.
How did her grandfather fit into this? She had vague memories of awkward conversations with him, a man obviously not used to talking with children. Then waking up at Brom’s after the boating accident, a gash in her head and no memory of anything that had happened after she’d been knocked against the cabin’s doorframe. Brom broke the bad news about her parents in a pained, soft voice.
She was quickly settled into Mon’s life. Neither man would even let her go home to get her belongings. Mon told her that Brom sank into a deep depression and had to go to a mental facility, where he’d been all the years since. From Ruby’s memories, it appeared that he’d pretty much gone bonkers.
Her truck rolled to a stop in front of Mon’s house. Even in the soft morning light, the house was a horror scene. A firefighter patrolled the edge of the rubble. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but his presence was comforting. The orb had seemed shy, disappearing the moment the fire crew arrived. Still, she searched for it or anything weird.
Its absence wasn’t enough to make her feel safe. But her Smith & Wesson was. She pulled it from beneath the seat of the truck. Forget vases and knives. If that thing reappeared, she was shooting it. She hid the gun in the waistband of her jeans beneath her shirt. After making sure the lump at her back wasn’t noticeable, she grabbed a couple of garbage bags and approached the ruined house. The stench of smoke filled the air. The firefighter met her halfway, ready to turn her back.
“I’m Ruby Salazaar. The man who…lived here was my uncle.”
The firefighter’s bloodshot blue eyes made her think he’d been there all night. “I remember you from yesterday. I’m sorry for your loss.”
At least he didn’t treat her like a suspect. They had swabbed her hands, looking for accelerants or other signs of foul play. They had no idea just how foul it was.
She could only nod. “I need to see what I can salvage from his office.”
The man checked his watch. “We’re not supposed to let anyone on the scene for twenty-four hours, but it’s getting close. I’ll have to accompany you though.”
“Great,” she answered too quickly.