Free Passions of the Ghost by Sara Mackenzie Page A

trouble.
    “It’s that Detective Inspector O’Neill,” he’d said, as if he’d swallowed something nasty. “He’ll use anyone to get at me.”
    “It was him who interviewed me!”
    “I’m sorry, Amy, but he’s made catching me his New Year’s resolution.”
    Amy remembered the cold glint in his eyes. She shivered. “I don’t like it, Jez. He’s not mucking around.”
    Jez laughed, said something about it taking more than O’Neill to trip him up. But as the nightmare birthday wore on, Amy began to come to an understanding about her life—perhaps she’d known it, deep down, for a while.
    The life she was living wasn’t the life she wanted.
    She got a job, a proper job, in a bakery. The woman in the flat next door worked there, and she and Amy had become friends. Over the past months, listening to her talk about her ordinary life, Amy had begun to crave such a life for herself. She wanted to go to work somewhere she didn’t have to lie about, she wanted her wages to pay the bills and to save up for special occasions. She wanted a boyfriend who didn’t forget her name in the morning.
    So, in hindsight, maybe the change in her hadn’t been as sudden as it seemed.
    Jez didn’t understand. She’d tried to explain to him, but had given up when it threatened to cause a major argument. Amy owed Jez so much, and she loved him, but she knew with a bleak certainty that, if she was going to survive, then the time had come to break away from him.
    They’d drifted apart. A couple of times over the past three years, Jez had come looking for her and persuaded her to help him with a job—which she’d later regretted. He hadn’t been around for a while, and recently she’d been getting along on her own perfectly well. But now Jez was back again.
    He was in trouble. She’d known it the moment she’d looked into his eyes. He admitted that he was in debt, but joked about it. Amy knew the names of the men he owed money to—they were dangerous. Jez said he had a scheme, though, and if it came off, he’d be able to pay his debts and have some left over. The only thing was he needed her to help pull it off.
    “It’ll be just like old times.” He’d grinned, as if he was looking forward to it. As if she should be, too.
    He really did need her. Despite his smiles and games, he was in trouble. What could she say but yes?
    And now she’d met a man who was the direct opposite of everything Jez and her father stood for. And she hated what he made her feel about her family.
    She hated what he made her feel about herself.

Nine
     
     
    The dragon stretched, stiffly testing each muscle and sinew. She was slowly regaining her strength, but the secret chamber was cramped and uncomfortable. She had pressed her back and flanks against the stone perimeters, and chips and dust scattered about her like rain. She twitched. It had been a long time since she’d felt the sweet touch of rain.
    Or sunshine.
    Very soon now, the dragon would be ready to begin moving out of this place, where she had spent so long sleeping and waiting. And grieving for her beloved.
    She opened her mouth and released a hiss of steam, filling the chamber with its damp warmth. Better . She stretched out her front legs, spreading her sharp talons and raking the ground. Her long tail whipped, striking the walls. Satisfied, she knew she had lost nothing of her great power. Soon Reynald would understand how puny he was, and all those mortals who walked upon her land would know how insignificant and unworthy they were.
    They would bow down before her majesty!
    The dragon lifted her head as far back as she could and gave a deep and terrible roar. The castle above her shifted on its footings. A tremor ran up through the thick stone and mortar walls, causing doors and windows to shake and floors to rock. A shelf of glasses in the kitchen crashed down.
    I am here .
    The dragon opened her eyes. They were soulless, black, and ancient. Reynald had shown no pity for her