Page 4 of Dragon in Denial
Chapter 2
Antoinette Dupré pressed her back against the tree, slowly turned her head, and leaned to the side so she could see the activity going on across the street, over by the fence. A fence that surrounded a playground where a whole mess of kids of various ages played, they and their parents or caregivers appearing oblivious to the drug deal about to go down not ten feet away from them.
These dragon’s blood dealers had no fucking morals.
Duh, her dragon whispered in her head.
Yeah, good point.They’d have made different career choices if they did.
She glanced around the tree again. A female dragon who probably hadn’t even hit her twentieth birthday yet stood on the sidewalk, clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t waiting for her dealer to show. Except her face was sallow, her bloodshot eyes wide and sunken. Her clothes hung on her body like they were three sizes too big, and her gaze kept darting every which way while she nervously tapped her left foot and chewed on her bottom lip. Those clothes probably had fit before she started using, but dragon’s blood had a nasty habit of making users forget to eat. Other side effects included making supremely stupid choices just to get the next fix. Choices that sometimes led to untimely deaths.
She looks like Eulalie. The thought came unbidden. Like practically everyone else who mourned Eulalie’s death, Antoinette tried her damndest tonotthink about her best friend. It hurt too freaking much.
No, she doesn’t, her dragon said.Eulalie had curly, dark hair. Like yours.
Antoinette used to be jealous of Eulalie’s hair because it was always gorgeous, without her even having to try. That may or may not have been the reason Antoinette started letting hers go carefree instead of attempting to tame it like she used to, when her bestie was still alive.
A young male dragon, who was probably only a few years older than the girl waiting for her fix, approached, nodding at the thin woman. The hood of his sweatshirt was up over his head, and he had both hands stuffed into his pockets.
Seriously, how did no one else not notice him and think,He’s up to no good?
Okay, yeah, that was a horrible stereotype, but this was a known location for drug deals, so why the fuck didn’t anyone of authority actually police the area?
This is a dragon problem, not a human problem.
Her dragon was right. While humans occasionally partook of dragon’s blood, they also had plenty of other opportunities of their own making to get them high. Their issues were on a level all on their own. Plus, they had no idea dragons actually existed and lived among them and created a highly addictive substance using their own freaking blood.
It would be interesting to see the lab work if a human ever overdosed on dragon’s blood. How would they explain the magical matter they would find in the autopsy?
But the deal was about to go down. Antoinette lifted the hood on her own sweatshirt to hide both her mess of curls and her identity as much as possible. Then she left her hiding place and jogged toward the two dragons standing on the sidewalk.
The girl pulled a couple of bills out of her pocket and the guy slipped a small dragon figurine out of his, Antoinette rushed up, grabbed the little glass object, and stuffed it into her sweatshirt before either one of them fully comprehended what was happening.
Now, here was the point where she had to be prepared for pretty much anything. Often both the dealer and user would bolt, running in opposite directions. While her first instinct was always to chase after the user to try to talk some sense into them, she’d learned that was almost always a futile course of action. Best bet was to try to eliminate the pushers, because then, hopefully, the users would eventually be forced to get clean.
Yeah, yeah, there were plenty of giant holes in her plan, but it was the best she could do, given she was a vigilante of one.
Sometimes the dealer would get pissed and try to fight her on the spot. She hated these scenarios the most because it was in front of witnesses. Humans. Children. People who didn’t need to see this shit go down.
Still, when the guy took a swing at her, she had no choice. She had to fight back. Her goal was to scare him into giving up his trade. And if scaring him didn’t work, well, Antoinette wasn’t afraid to use any means necessary to reach her goal.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
One less dealer meant one less monster on the streets, enticing people like her best friend into a lifestyle that ended only one way: death, too damn soon.
Antoinette ducked to avoid the hit, then delivered a punch to his kidney. He doubled over for a few seconds but straightened and charged at her, shoving his shoulder into her midsection and slamming her against the fence. She grunted and grabbed the belt loops on his jeans, using them for leverage as she lifted her leg and pounded her knee into his stomach.
“Fucking bitch,” he said, snarling. “If there weren’t witnesses, I’d shift into a dragon and fry your ass.”
“Ha. You wish.” Antoinette shoved him away and kicked him in the gut, sending him flying backward. The sound of breaking glass echoed all around them as vials of dragon’s blood spilled from the pocket of his hoodie. Antoinette began deliberately stomping on them to make sure none were still viable, while the dealer used a string of curse words to express his displeasure at the action.
Something—or someone—jumped onto her back; thin fingers with yellowed nails chewed to the quick scrabbled at her face, narrowly missing gouging out one of her eyes.
“Shit,” Antoinette snapped. “I’m trying to help you, moron.” She reached behind her, poking the damn wacko in the side.
“Give me my dragon’s blood,” the druggie called out.
Antoinette grabbed her hair and gave it a hard yank and the girl fell to the pavement on her back. “What you need is to get cleaned up and get the fuck on with your life.”
