Free Liquid Fire by Anthony Francis

the Order—but I was serious about trying to summon a dragon, and Daniel’s serious about stopping me. You may think that’s all New Age nonsense—”
    “But he clearly doesn’t,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    We pulled up to the hotel, and Jewel dropped us off in the turnaround. We thanked her and got out, but when I waved goodbye, she rolled down her window.
    “Look . . . Dakota Frost,” Jewel said, leaning over, staring up at me through the window. “You really did save my life, at least metaphorically. I do think Daniel meant to maim me, and I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t spin. Thank you.”
    I rubbed the two forefingers of my right hand. I knew what it felt like, the threat of maiming, the fear of losing one’s profession. But I didn’t want to dump upon her all the trauma of my past, or to spook her even more. Finally I just said, “All part of the service, little lady.”
    Jewel started to lean back, then paused, wavering there in the car.
    “All right,” she said nervously. “All right. I can do this.”
    “Yes?” I said, smiling down at her.
    ———
    Jewel lowered her chin. “This time . . . can I get your number?”
    7. No One Mentioned the Fae
    The next morning, I dreamed of a beautiful, curvy fireweaver and her delicious smile. The dreams turned hotter as she spun fire, then darker as her blazing poi deflected bullets. Swirling fire coiled around her like a dragon, threatening to burn me alive.
    I awoke in a sweat, to find Cinnamon curled atop my bed like a giant cat.
    Quietly, I sighed. Predictable. Adorable, but predictable. I’d specifically asked for two beds, but unless I wanted to exile her to her own room, I could count on Cinnamon waking up in the middle of the night and coming to sleep on my bed, by my side, curled atop the covers.
    Gingerly, I extracted my arm—dead asleep from her weight—and slipped out of bed. Cinnamon didn’t stir—after staying up to go to the Crucible, she’d been absolutely wiped. She had the oddest sleep schedule, crashing as early as seven, but just for a few hours; she’d get up, bookending midnight, then crash again until it was time to get up for school. I brushed my teeth and slipped out the connecting door to Saffron’s suite without waking my baby.
    Darkrose and Saffron sat around their suite’s tiny breakfast table in matching bathrobes, murmuring to each other sweetly. When I closed the door behind me, Darkrose smiled, nodding to Saffron, who lifted her newspaper—apparently, and unsuccessfully, trying to hide her grin.
    “So . . .” Saffron said, not looking up from the newspaper, “Jinx and Doug said hello—they left about half an hour ago to catch a morning boat tour of the Bay. I think their honeymoon went . . . quite well.” Her mouth quirked. “What about you two . . . did you guys have fun?”
    I stared at her, unsure of what to tell her. She’d so wanted last night to go well.
    “Dakota,” Saffron said, putting the paper down. “Oh no. What went wrong?”
    “The performance was spectacular,” I said, “and I even got to go backstage with Jewel. She’s . . . really sweet and I felt like we hit it off. But when we were walking her to her car . . . we were attacked on the streets of Oakland by four guys—with guns and fire swords.”
    “No,” Darkrose said, straightening in her chair.
    “Nothing to do with me,” I said, “but they were really serious about hurting Jewel.”
    “What is up with this city?” Saffron asked. “First the airport, then a mugging?” She shook her head. “Initially, I was skeptical, but now I’m glad Nyissa volunteered to be your bodyguard. Hopefully the Vampire Court will release her soon—”
    I jerked. I’d entirely forgotten the arrangements Vickman had made—Nyissa’s coffin was supposed to be deposited in our room, since she was acting as my bodyguard. But when we’d gotten to the hotel, Cinnamon and I had gone to our empty room