Catching Dragos (3 page)

saw the Dragos clan’s enforcer sprawled on the sidewalk. Cursing a blue streak in a

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GAIL KOGER

Gypsy dialect I didn’t know, Fabian dropped down beside Sergei and checked his

pulse.

This night was full of surprises. Was the Dragos clan using the famous

supermodel, or was it the other way around?

Fabian suddenly lifted his head and looked straight at my van.

I did not like the feral gleam in his eyes. It was like he was a Dragos hunter too.

But that wasn’t possible. I started the engine.

The man-whore leaped to his feet and sprinted toward me.

I put the pedal to the metal and sped off. One look at the side mirror, and my jaw

dropped. Fabian was actually running after me, and damn, was he fast. I tossed a

smoke bomb out the window. “Buh-bye.”

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Chapter Three

On every job I have at least two safe houses. Sometimes my prey gets a little pissy

about being exposed and they hunt me in return. Not a pleasant experience, but a good

Girl Scout is always prepared. My dad was big on me doing
normal
girl stuff, and I

joined the Scouts to please him. To my surprise, I picked up some useful skills. I still

have my Trailblazer and Special Agent badges.

This safe house was actually a seedy biker’s bar called Outlaws. I had done Trixie,

the owner, a favor, and she loaned me vehicles or muscle when needed.

Boisterous shouts, rock music, and wild, unrestrained laughter spilled out into the

parking lot. Trixie had a full house tonight. I parked the van behind a row of

motorcycles and noticed Bruno, the bouncer, heading my way. He was one scary-

looking guy. Tattoos covered every inch of his muscular body, and metal horns

sprouted from his forehead. My wart beat his horns.

“Hey, Bruno.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Mariah?”

“Yep, it’s me.”

“That is one nasty-ass wart.”

I laughed. “It does keep the guys away.”

“No shit.” Bruno opened the car door and escorted me inside.

The bar stank of old booze, grease, and sweat. A thick haze of cigarette smoke

hung in the air. A burly older biker looked me over and made obscene kissing noises.

“Wanna fuck a real man?”

“When I see one, I’ll let you know.”

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“Bitch!” He started for me.

Bruno knocked him down with one punch. “The lady is off limits.”

“Sure, boss.” He scuttled away.

“I could have handled him.”

“Just doin’ my job,” Bruno answered, ushering me into the office. “I’ll let the boss

know you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

“Want a burger?”

“God, yes, I’m starving.” The food here was to die for. Go figure.

Bruno shot me a grin and closed the door.

Hmmm. That grin made me very nervous. Bruno was a bit of a prankster. I

quickly checked my laptop. Fabian was heading toward Summerlin, where the rich and

famous lived. Which old gal did he have a hot date with tonight? Or was he planning

on doing a little breaking and entering?

Stripping off my fat suit and disguise, I hurriedly changed into what I called my

ninja gear. A black hoodie, jeans, and boots.

The door opened, and Trixie walked in with my burger and fries. She always

reminded me of a prissy Sunday school teacher in leather. But behind her sweet smile

was one mean bitch. Mess with her and she’d gut you in a heartbeat. Good thing we

were friends.

“Bruno added some Billy Biker jalapenos to your burger. He thought you might

like the extra kick.”

One cautious bite and my tongue went numb. “Ssshittt.” A firestorm erupted in

my friggin’ mouth. “Hot. Hot. Hot.”

Trixie handed me a cold beer. “Told him you were too much of a wuss to handle

them.”

I drained the beer. “Yeah. Big…wuss.”

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“Get the goods on your guy?” She gave me another beer.

“There have been some complications.” I took a long swallow and sighed as it put

out the fire. “Fabian has hooked up with the Dragos clan.”

“The magical bunch! Are you fucking kidding me? They’re badasses. Nobody

messes with them.”

“My grandmother does.”

“Well, she is nuts, but so am I.” Trixie pointed to the security monitors. “Is that

one of them?”

I spun around.

Sergei and two of his goons climbed out of a black Hummer.

“Fuck! How did they find me?”

“With magic shit?”

They expertly searched my getaway van before turning their attention to the bar.

I grabbed my tranquilizer gun. “Sorry, Trixie. I’ll deal with them.”

“Don’t sweat it. My guys can handle them.” She walked out to the scarred

wooden bar.

“You sure about that?” Picking up my goody bag, I followed her and froze.

Sergei stood in the doorway with a glowing tracking stone in his hand. It was

homing in on my unique aura.

“
Sedulo succinte
,” I muttered under my breath. The stone kept glowing. Jeez, I had

said the spell backward. Grams was right. I did need to spend more time practicing my

witchcraft; but as the Judge, I didn’t use it that much. I concentrated on summoning my

power. My skin suddenly prickled. There it was. “
Succinte sedulo
.”

The tracking stone went dark.

The Dragos enforcer yanked out a Glock and shot the jukebox. A rather

spectacular firework of blue sparks shot into the air. Utter silence fell.

Sergei bellowed, “I want the witch!”

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GAIL KOGER

“Well, that’s just rude.” I wasn’t a full-blooded witch. I was something a little

different.

Bruno broke a pool cue over Sergei‘s head, knocking him flat. “Dumb move,

asshole.”

Sergei erupted to his feet and punched Bruno in the kisser.

“Sic ‘em, boys,” Trixie commanded.

Every biker in the joint jumped Sergei and his goons.

Trixie threw me a set of keys. “Take my hog.”

I caught the keys. “Thanks. I’ll pay for the damages.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Got my eye on that Hummer.”

Ducking a flying chair, I darted out the rear door and ran into a boulder. Great.

One of Sergei’s goons.

The boulder laughed. “Going somewhere, witch?”

“I. Am.
Not
. A. Witch. And yeah, I have somewhere to be.” I backed into the dimly

lit parking lot.

He grabbed my arm. “Tough.”

“For you.” I rammed my knee into his balls.

The Dragos goon dropped to the pavement with a wheeze of pain.

I spun on my heel and lashed out with a solid side kick.

His head snapped back, and he toppled over.

“Just ’cause I’m pint-sized, doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.” I climbed on the

hog.

“Stop!”

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder. Fuck. More goons. Time to disappear.

Quickly chanting a “nobody’s there” illusion spell, I started the engine and roared off.

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I loved the open road. The wind in your hair and, oh yuck, the bugs in your teeth.

I spat out grasshopper parts and slowed for a red light.

A kid driving a muscle car glanced over at me. His head jerked around as he did a

double take, and he ran right through the red light.
Bam!
He plowed into a city bus.

I winced. That had to hurt.

The furious bus driver bailed out. “How can you
not
see a bus?”

“Sorry, mister.” The shaken kid pointed at my motorcycle. “It ain’t got a driver.”

Planting his hands on his hips, the driver asked, “Are you high?”

A lady in a white luxury car pulled alongside me and gaped in disbelief.

I looked down. Holy hell. I was invisible, but the motorcycle wasn’t. Stupid,

stupid mistake. As the Judge, I seldom needed to use my magical abilities. Until this

case, and boy, was I out of practice.

Red and blue lights flashed in my side mirror. A hand on his gun, a cop walked

slowly toward me.

The woman in the luxury car rolled her window down and yelled at the cop. “It’s

driving itself! How is that even possible?”

“Don’t know, ma’am,” the cop responded.

I expanded the invisibility spell.

The stunned expression on the cop’s face was priceless. “What the fuck?”

After what seemed like an eternity, the light turned green. I hit the gas. I had a

medallion to recover.

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GAIL KOGER

Chapter Four

Fabian’s yellow Porsche Spyder was parked in the driveway of a rather spooky-

looking castle. I typed the address into my laptop. Yep, just as I thought. The mansion

belonged to the De Lucas. There were rumors that Heather De Luca dabbled in the

black arts. According to my grandmother, Heather had once tried to summon a demon

to increase her fortune. The only thing the evil bitch accomplished was burning down

her ten-million-dollar mansion, forcing her to move into this swell place.

Fabian was after a ring. With the Dragos clan involved it had to be magical.

Hacking into the security system, I found Fabian in a bedroom straight out of the

Dark Ages. A massive canopy bed, creepy gargoyle statues, and a slew of cobwebs. On

the nightstand was a bottle of champagne and two half-empty glasses.

Fabian slow-danced a withered old woman in a frilly pink negligee around the

bed. I brought up Heather De Luca’s driver’s license information. Yep, it was her. Time

had not been kind to granny.

I grabbed my cell phone and punched in a number. I almost puked when the man-

whore planted a hot one on Heather’s mouth. Ugh. Those lips of his had touched mine.

I dug into my goody bag. Where had I put those disinfecting wipes?

A sleepy male voice answered my call. “Whassup, Mariah?”

“You still have that tow truck, Hank?”

“I do.”

“I need you to tow a Porsche Spyder for me. Quietly.”

“A Spyder, huh? Send me the details. It’ll be gone in twenty minutes.” Hank

disconnected.

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Hank was a man of few words and a talented jack-of-all-trades. If I ever needed a

surface-to-air missile or the ultimate chocolate cake, he was my go-to man.

I flipped my computer screen back to the bedroom.

Heather unzipped Fabian’s pants.

He spun away from her and started doing an erotic striptease with a little bump

and grind thrown in.

Damn. His routine was hot, but the thought of him doing it with Granny De Luca

was creeping me out. I tapped a key on my laptop.

The house alarm began to wail.

That should kill the mood.

Heather hurried over to a keypad and shut it off.

With one tap on my keyboard, I had the sirens screaming again.

The old crone turned it off.

I turned it back on.

Off.

On.

Off.

On.

Fabian rolled his eyes and did something to the keypad. Silence reigned.

I punched the key again. Nothing happened. Well, shit.

A tow truck with the Porsche Spyder on the flatbed drove by me. Whoa, it hadn’t

even been ten minutes. Time to permanently shut the party down.

“
Gradalis unus pretiosa
,” I chanted, focusing on the front door of the De Lucas’

house. The door shattered.

Well, hell, not a peep from the damn alarm. The great seduction scene was
not

happening on my watch. I dialed 9-1-1.

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“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

Doing my best impression of a concerned citizen, I cried, “Oh, my God. Oh, my

God. There’s a man breaking into my neighbor’s house.”

The dispatcher asked, “What’s the address?”

“It’s 22321 North Mainland Road. It’s the spooky-looking castle.”

The dispatcher’s fingers clacked over the keyboard as she rapidly typed the

information into her computer. “How did he make entry?”

“He kicked in the front door. There’s no one home except that poor, helpless old

lady.”

“Is the man white, Hispanic, or black?”

“Hispanic, I think.”

Her voice calm and professional, the dispatcher asked, “How tall is he?”

“I’m not sure. He’s a big guy.”

“What’s he wearing?”

“A black shirt and jeans,” I answered, frowning at my monitor. Heather wobbled

drunkenly. Fabian scooped her up, dumped her on the bed, and started rummaging

through her jewelry box. The sick fuck had drugged her.

Two patrol cars zoomed by me.

“Oh, thank God. The police are here.”

The dispatcher said, “I need your name and address.”

“It’s anonymous.” I disconnected.

With their guns drawn, the officers bailed out of their cars and entered the house.

A little time in jail should cool Fabian down.

I followed the cops on the monitor. The idiots were checking every freakin’ room.

Fabian would be long gone before they made it upstairs.

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Squeezing my eyes closed, I flipped back to the bedroom and took a cautious

peek. Heather was sprawled across the bed like a three-day-old corpse. Her dimpled

white butt protruded from her negligee. Dang. That image was forever burned into my

mind. Where the heck was Fabian? The better question was, had he stolen the ring?

The cops burst into the bedroom and grimaced in horror. One reluctantly checked

Heather’s pulse and yanked the bedspread over her. The other officers investigated the

closet and bathroom.

Hmm. How had the bugger gotten by them? I pulled up my tracking program.

Zip. Nada. Nothing. Fabian must have found the bug. Too bad he wouldn’t find his car