Free The Queen's Flight (Emerging Queens) by Jamie K. Schmidt

road again. No one was coming for her, and as much as she wanted to see Sergei’s sexy, scowling face again, wishing wasn’t going to make that happen.
    Viola stayed off the highways and took the local roads. When she was far enough from the dugout, she found an A TM and emptied her bank account. She knew that she could be traced by using her credit cards, but she was out of money and options.
    Maybe the bad guys wouldn’t be watching and the good guys would. Viola would have to be able to run away at a moment’s notice, depending on what showed up. She gazed into the clouds. No dragons on the horizon. She kicked herself for hoping she’d see Sergei flying toward her. The roads were equally clear. So Viola deemed it safe enough and drove around, searching for breakfast.
    What she found next to the bakery was like the heavens decided she deserved a break. Knit Wits was a homey yarn store with a cheerful logo and a cat curled up asleep in the window. All her stuff was with Carolyn, hopefully at the safe house, wherever that was, but that was no good to her now. After scarfing down a chocolate croissant and a café mocha, Viola went into the shop. Angels sang a requiem when she entered—or maybe that was all in her head. She hadn’t slept much last night.
    The yarn shop even smelled like home—the way home should smell, not like her mother’s house did, which always smelled a little like Pine Sol and desperation.
    “Are you okay?” the man behind the counter asked. He was in his mid-thirties and wore a stunning Fair Isle vest. Perched up on a stool, he was knitting a blue cabled sweater.
    Viola refused to cry again, even though it was all she wanted to do. Not trusting her voice, she gave him a tight-lipped smile and pointed to the sock yarn. Putting her head down, she made her way there, wiping her hands on her jeans to make sure they weren’t dirty or sticky. Viola fondled the skeins, feeling a little bit of her soul slip back into place with each one she examined and caressed.
    “As long as you’re not wearing makeup, you can rub them on your cheek,” he said.
    At her surprise, he shrugged. “You look like you need to connect.”
    “You don’t think I’m a lunatic?” Viola asked.
    “I think you could use a cup of tea.”
    And that’s when she decided to make him her second husband. But by the time she’d bought needles, a new pattern, and some outrageously priced—but well worth it—yarn, his husband walked in. Viola resolved herself to getting a bunch of cats and swearing off romance.
    “Rick designed that pattern,” he told her, giving his significant other a squeeze.
    “I’ve wanted to learn the magic loop method for a while”—she leaned in confidentially—“I hate double-pointed needles.”
    “Then you’re going to love this. Let me show you the best way to cast on. And since you’re going to be knitting both socks at once, you’ll have the project done in no time.”
    She sat between the men on the couch and listened to them bicker and chat. She got the hang of the pattern and using the two circular needles within a few minutes. It was always easier when someone showed you and then stuck around to make sure you really got it.
    Viola was surrounded by her favorite things—a cup of tea, a bunch of yarn, and a new pattern to figure out. She relaxed for the first time in…well she couldn’t remember how long. Even before she shifted into a dragon, she’d worried about her mother, her job, or her dismal love life. Now that she had all of that taken away from her, there was a certain relief in hitting rock bottom. Her eyelids started to droop, even as her fingers knit and her brain recited the lace pattern as she did the stitches.
    As she knit away, customers came and went. Either man would get up and chat with them. Every time she started to lull off to sleep, the shop’s bell would wake her, so she concentrated on her pattern. That’s why she didn’t glance up until the