The Beast

As the steering wheel punched her in the chest and a Bad News Bears hissing sound came out of the crumpled hood, she wrenched around in a panic to Bitty.

The girl had managed to put her seat belt on before the impact.

Thank you, God—

Another roar cut through the night, and yup, out the back window she saw that the beast was fully present, not just voicing its opinion. And yup, the humans had changed their minds about their little attack, stumbling over themselves to get headed in the opposite direction.

As if they were very clear that, however improbable it was for a dragon to materialize in the back parking lot of a strip mall, they were not about to argue with what seemed to be happening—

Before she could stop Bitty, the girl was out of the car.

“Damn it! Bitty!”

Mary jumped out, too—and cursed a whole lot more: The beast had curled forward on its powerful legs and was going all Jurassic Park, things-are-closer-than-they-appear, crouching into attack position as it blew the cobwebs out of its lungs.

No, no, not lunch. Nope, not going to happen—

“Get back in the car!” Mary barked as she ran into the beast’s path, putting herself between the retreating fidiots and her darkling husband.

“What is that!” Bitty yelled out. “What happened to him!”

“Hey! Hi!” Waving her hands, Mary caught the beast’s attention. “There you are. Hello, way up there.”

The beast chuffed, its jowls lifting off its enormous teeth in a smile. Then it let out a keening sound, part inquiry, part protest.

“No. You may not. You cannot eat the humans.”

Yeah, okay, she still couldn’t believe it anytime those words came out of her mouth. Oh, the places you will go, indeed.

But the beast dropped its head. Like it was pouting.

“I know. I know, but you have a sweet tooth. You like slayers more—”

Abruptly, the beast’s gigantic head snapped to the left. And Mary closed her eyes, thinking, Shit, she knew why.

“Bitty,” she muttered without looking away from the dragon. “I told you to get back in the damn car.”

The beast’s nostrils flared wide. And then it blew out the inhale as it scented the girl.

“Bitty! I mean it! Get back—”

Chuffing sounds abounded as the beast stretched out on the ground, laying its head down on the asphalt toward Bitty.

Mary lowered her hands. Glanced over at the girl.

Bitty stood there, utterly motionless, as if her brain simply couldn’t compute it all. And then she came forward, moving slowly, her arms down and her eyebrows way up. Her expression was wary and nervous, but she seemed determined to see for herself what was going on with the dragon.

More chuffing, as if the beast were trying to communicate that it was okay. He wasn’t going to be a bad boy. He just wanted to say hi.

Biggest lapdog on the frickin’ planet, Mary thought. And let’s just hope it stayed that way.

“Be careful,” Mary said. “No sudden movements—”

“I think he likes me? I’m not sure . . . but I think he likes me.”

A minute later, Bitty stopped right next to the dragon’s head, right beside those gnashing jaws, right by those reptilian eyes that blinked vertically, not horizontally.

“Can I pet you?” she asked.

The beast made an inquiring sound, as if it were mimicking her tone.

“Is that a yes?”

When it did the half-purr, half-exhale thing again, Bitty extended a shaking hand and placed it right on the beast’s cheek.

“Oh, you’re so smooth. You’re much smoother than I thought—”

There was a sudden rush of movement, and Mary lunged forward and grabbed the girl, dragging her out of range. But she shouldn’t have worried.

The beast had rolled over onto its back, its comparably small arms curling up on its chest, its house-size rear legs stretching out. In order to scratch its belly, Bitty would have needed a six-foot ladder—and Mary two Xanax and a bottle of wine, thank you very much—but the girl made the best of it, going over and reaching up on her tiptoes as the beast angled its head to watch her with soft eyes.

“He’s so cute,” Bitty said. “Aren’t you? Who’s a cutie?”

“I really need a drink,” Mary muttered to herself. “I need a frickin’ drink.”

But at least we have this part of it all solved, she thought.

* * *

When Rhage came back into his body, it was full-on panic time. “Mary! Bitty! Mary!”

But then he realized that two sets of hands were holding his palms, and there were two beautiful voices that started to reassure him—well, one did the reassuring. The other one was just reassuring to hear.

“It’s okay, we’re okay—”

“Rhage! You have a dragon! A pet dragon! I got to rub his tummy!”

Say what, he thought in the blindness.

“When can he come back! I want to see him again! Can I play with him!”

His delirium was thankfully not accompanied by stomach pains, so he took that to mean that he hadn’t snacked on any of those fucking douches who had aggressed on his Mary. And oh, good, there was a blanket over the lower half of his body, so he wasn’t naked.

But he had to start shaking his head even though he wasn’t sure where the girl was looking. “That is not a toy, Bits. He’s dangerous—”

“He likes me! That was amazing!”