Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

Creepy-Who’s-Supposed-to-Be-Providing-Protection-Not-Diminishing-It, you’ve got my attention. Now what are you going to do with it?”
    He scanned around, gestured toward Mountain and Zoltan. “Your dragon’s horns have not sprouted.”
    My fingers impatiently tapped my thigh, but I held my tongue, waiting for him to go on.
    “Can you predict when they will?” Mountain asked with a chuckle. “Just name the day and the hour, then you can go home and we’ll call after that to let you know how much credibility you’ve earned.”
    “There is no predicting to it,” Creepy replied. “His transformation will begin the moment you take the action that causes it.”
    Transformation? I recalled that Hecate’s dragons had had four limbs and wings. I asked, “What action?”
    “The dragon must be poisoned.” The hint of a curve strayed to his lips. “She Who Walks Between Worlds should know that.”
    I don’t like being scolded. I like it less when a stranger is doing it. But I learned something new about myself: When a creepy stranger who definitely knows I’m the Lustrata scolds me and also suggests I poison a pet, I loathe it.
    Despite the narrowed eyes and crossed arms that signaled my annoyance, Creepy came right up to the screen. “Do you have any seeds of the Strychnos nux-vomica tree?”
    I’d not heard of the vomit-tree, but the other part was obvious enough. “You mean strychnine? No. I don’t keep poisons around the house.”
    “No matter.” He lifted his empty hand toward the edge of the porch, palm up, closed it and reopened it. It was full of dark coins.
    Zoltan’s nostrils flared and he slithered forward.
    Creepy let the dragon close in on him.
    Those aren’t coins.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    Z oltan, no!” I shouted, pushing on the screen door. Creepy blocked it with his foot, but I was too late anyway. The dragon’s tongue had licked over Creepy’s hand, and the odd seeds were gone.
    Mountain scrambled forward even as Zoltan crunched and swallowed. His big arms circled the dragon’s body. “No! Spit it out!” He squeezed, as if doing the Heimlich maneuver, but who knew exactly how high or low a dragon’s stomach was? Suddenly Zoltan was choking. I couldn’t be sure if it was the seeds or Mountain’s actions, but I was betting it was the former. Zoltan flopped to the ground, pinning Mountain. Behind me, I heard a window open. I saw Zhan’s foot as she slipped out.
    “Bastard.” Creepy didn’t even bother to acknowledge me, captivated by the creature’s spasms. I smacked the door angrily. He wasn’t going to let me out, so I tore a hole in my just-fixed screen and shoved the gun through, whacking his still-solid head with the handle.
    The sound it caused made me smile.
    At least until he glared at me and his irises flashed red. “That. Hurt.”
    I withdrew my arm from the mangled screen. “He’s in pain because of you!” I glanced at the writhing, eel-like dragon. Zhan had helped Mountain get free, and he had scooted a few feet away.
    When I spied Creepy again, he wasn’t solid. He was halfway through my door. “Hey!” I retreated, mad at myself. Creating a distraction was a standard bad-guy tactic, and this arrogant ass had told us what he’d do.
    Ivanka made an awkward grab for his leg. While her broken arm was held tight to her chest, her uninjured arm swung through him. She kicked to no avail.
    “In the fey world the dragon had no access to such trees,” Creepy said. His voice was ethereal at first but changed as he solidified. “Dragons crave bitter tastes, bitter like those seeds, for a reason.” He kept coming toward me. “The seeds stimulate his spinal cord.”
    “He’s convulsing!” I kept retreating. This hall led to the kitchen. There were knives and things to throw in there.
    “Yes. He will have violent convulsions.”
    I spun and ran for the kitchen, hoping to find something that would make a more useful weapon than a gun I had no intention of firing. Maybe salt. Maybe the silver-plated holiday turkey-carving set. As I arrived in the kitchen, though, I saw Creepy was already there. In fact, I ran right into his solid arms. “Do not fear,” he said, wrapping me in his embrace. “It is no different than a wærewolf’s transformation.”
    I struggled; he released me. His words sank in.
    “There is so much I want to tell you,” he whispered.
    A roar trumpeted outside, so loud and so strong that the dishes in my cupboards rattled. I stood there