It was so easy to fall in love with them.

Around four o'clock, the boys fell asleep on the couch watching Max and Ruby. I crawled into the recliner and drifted off.

A low, dark pulse of music infiltrated my consciousness. My eyes fluttered open. Michael stood on the couch, clapping his hands.

Stephen was curled into a ball, hugging his teddy bear. They were both looking at the ceiling, expectant.

For a second, I didn't understand all the noise. The swelling music. The angry shouts of the guardians outside. The horrible wump- wump sounds shaking the house.

I shot out of the chair and scooped the twins into my arms. Stephen dropped his bear and screamed, but I couldn't stop to retrieve it. The fire song clashed and clanged, rising to a near screech. Oh, G.o.d.

Terrified, I ran into the hallway.

Michael and Stephen wailed. They sensed my fear, or maybe they sensed the dragon. I reached for the door to Ralph's bedroom.

The living room exploded.

Dragonfire roared toward us.

I shoved through the doorway and slammed it shut. My heart was trying to pound out of my chest. The boys were screaming and holding on to me for dear life.

"Ibby," sobbed Michael. "I scared."

"Me, too," cried Stephen.

I wanted nothing more than to make them feel safe again. Anger tore through my fear.

I would kill that f.u.c.king dragon myself.

"It's okay. Don't you worry," I said. "Let's wake up Daddy."

I knew we only had seconds. The guardians might be able to distract the dragon long enough for me to wake Ralph. The digital clock on the nightstand read 6:03 p.m. It wasn't sunset. Would I be able to get him to open his eyes?

I put the boys down and they sat by their father, clutching at the sleeping bag. They were still crying.

I got on the other side and patted Ralph's cheeks. "Ralph? Time to get up. Come on!"

Michael slapped his dad's forehead. "Daddy! Daddy!"

"Whoa there, buddy. Let's not bruise the man," I said grabbing his arm midslap.

Above us, the top of the house crackled and crumbled. Flakes of ceiling drifted down, the prelude to bigger debris. The dragon's dark chorus rose in triumph.

I'd be d.a.m.ned if I let the twins get even a scratch on them. What could I do? h.e.l.l, I'd hide under a blanket of asbestos if it meant warding off the impending flames. I'd take any kind of shield at this point, even the uber-techno-whatsit that Brady and his team used. I didn't know much about his invisible force-field gizmo. I was never allowed to use one. In fact, only Brady and his four team members utilized them.

A force field, invisible or not, would come in really d.a.m.ned handy. The house quaked and shivered, reminding me of the wood- block castles the boys had knocked down. Pictures crashed to the floor, and the dresser mirror shattered.

I got as close as I could to Ralph. I grabbed the toddlers, tucking them between us. I had never been so scared in my life. I would've given anything to make sure those boys and Ralph would be protected.

The fire will protect you, daughter. Yeah, right. So far the fire hadn't helped much at all. Still, I felt my inner dragon raise its snout. Its wings unfurled. Its fire flowed. It built inside me, burbling and rising.

The boys clung to me desperately, their sobs breaking my heart.

The far wall blew inward. The ceiling caved in. The noise drowned out our screams. Choking dust rolled through the room, getting trapped in our lungs and stinging our eyes.

The red dragon hovered above us; in the fading sunlight its scales glittered like a thousand rubies. It opened its maw and unleashed a fireball. I lifted up my hand as if doing so could protect us.

But nothing could protect us. Nothing at all.

Chapter 19

We didn't die.

Somehow, we were okay. At least I thought we were. My eyes were still squeezed shut. My heart thudded erratically. The arm I had wrapped so tightly around the boys quivered.

"Pretty," said Michael. I knew it was him because he was the brave one.

Sheesh. If a three-year-old had the courage to look up, so could I. I pried open my eyes. Whoa. We were coc.o.o.ned in a bubble of undulating energy.

The fire burned everything around us. The furniture became pyres; the carpet a sacrifice to the blaze. Only the walls with their peculiar silver sheen were immune.

Michael sat on his dad's chest, his wide gaze taking in the destruction. Stephen was glued to my lap.

He ducked his head against my shoulder, crying softly.

"Ssshhh," I said. "It's okay, honey."

The red dragon's fire meshed with mine; every scorching blow strengthened the shield. I knew this because I heard the song. My fire was stronger than the dragon's.

Its song was fading, and even though I couldn't see past the black smoke, I knew it was being driven away. Frustration echoed in its fire. I hoped that meant rescue was imminent.

I hugged the boys. Then I laid a hand on Ralph's cool brow. "Ralph," I whispered.

To my shock, his eyes opened.

"What's going on?" He sat up suddenly and gathered a sniffling Stephen and Michael into his arms. His gaze widened as he glanced around. "Everything's on fire."

"Don't look at me," I said, my voice shaking with relief. "I soooo didn't do this."

The fire's harmony gave way to cacophony.

Whoomp!

Every last flame and wisp of smoke was sucked away, like a giant invisible Hoover had been turned on.

My shield disappeared instantly. Apparently it wasn't immune to the vacuum. I could still feel the heated aftermath of the conflagration.

The closed door, which had somehow escaped the destruction, burst open. Damian and his brothers stood there, all holding fire extinguishers.

I threw up my hands and wailed, "Noooooo."

Too late. All three nozzles discharged.

When they were done blasting us, the four of us were covered in a mountain of white.

"Did you really have to keep doing that?" I asked Damian. At least I think it was Damian. It was difficult to tell which brother was which.

"A precaution." I could swear he was trying not to laugh. "We weren't sure you could control your dragonfire."

"How did you get the other flames out?"

"The magic of our resident Wiccans," said Damian. "We drove off the dragon and they worked their spells."

Wiccans. I remembered Patrick talking about them cleansing his house. This town really did have every kind of paranormal being imaginable.

"Are you okay, Libby?" asked Ralph. He hugged his sons closely, and I wrapped my arms around all of them.

"Completely freaked out, thanks. What about you?"

He kissed me. And suddenly everything was all right, even with wiggling three-year-olds protesting the squishing and lycanthrope triplets witnessing our smooch. When Ralph pulled back, he was grinning. Sunlight dappled his messed-up hair and slanted across his face.

Wait a minute. Sunlight?

He looked up, blinking at the hole above us. "I haven't seen the sun in months."

"Why aren't you a pile of ash?" I asked.

"His dragon magic," said Damian. We both looked at him and he shrugged. "We've been taking a crash course in dragonology from Ash. C'mon, Lia and her dragon aren't gone for good."

"Synd wasn't with her?" asked Ralph.

"No. He's been a little busy in Tulsa setting fires, targeting the businesses and homes of paranormal beings. Ash barely escaped the blaze at her hotel."

I remembered the CNN report about the rash of supposed arson fires; the most recent one had been at the Crowne Plaza Hotel. I frowned. "How does he know which ones aren't human?"

"We don't know," said Damian. "Just like we don't know why he's torching their places. Of course, it's obvious why he wants to kill Ash."

"Because everyone does?" I asked sweetly.

Ralph laughed, and I was glad he did. There wasn't much cause for humor. The house was in shambles. The living room was smoldering embers, same as Ralph's bedroom. It had to be difficult to see the destruction of the home where he'd spent his childhood, not to mention where he'd brought his bride and raised their sons. I felt my heart break for them.

The boys' bedroom survived, and I was grateful for that. Despite Damian's insistence that we vacate, I barreled past him and his brothers.

"They need toys," I demanded. Dutifully, Damian took a book bag from the closet and scooped up playthings.

"Get the frog and the giraffe," I said. I could only hope Stephen would accept one of the stuffed animals in lieu of his fried teddy.

One of the other brothers picked up the tiny dresser full of the twins' clothes. "Let's go," he said.

Two brothers went ahead of us. Damian followed us, carrying the bag crammed full of toys. Ralph, who'd only been wearing pajama bottoms, held Michael tightly. Stephen clung to me, wailing his unhappiness about the "stinky bubbles."

Michael thought the white foam was the greatest thing since chocolate pudding, evidenced by his attempts to stuff it into his mouth.

Ralph stalled that maneuver and did the best he could to swipe the c.r.a.p from his son.

I cleaned off Stephen's face, which didn't do much good since the kid kept pressing it against my froth-covered shoulder.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Compound," said Damian. "It's the safest place."

His brothers led us to a black Hummer parked a few feet away. Its ma.s.sive engine was running. The pa.s.senger-side window dropped down, and I saw a blue-haired woman in the driver's side.

"C'mon," she yelled. "We don't have a lot of time."

One of the triplets opened the door and Ralph slid in with Michael. I handed him Stephen and put my hand on the door.

I heard music. Not just music, but the gravelly voice of Kurt Cobain singing about where bad folks go when they die. I recognized the song blasting around us: Nirvana's "Lake of Fire." I didn't have to look up to know the dragons were swooping down.

"C'mon!" yelled the driver. "Move your a.s.ses!"

My gaze met Ralph's. He reached for me, but there was no time. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Ralph or those sweet little boys.

I slammed the door shut and the Hummer's wheels spun in the snow as it took off. The triplets ran for cover, but I had nowhere to go.

Twin blasts of fire knocked me off my feet. I landed on my back, skidding across the snow. Above me, I could see the red and blue dragons circling.

b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

"Oh my G.o.d!" screamed a very familiar voice. "Liberty!"

My mother and father ran across the yard toward me, completely ignoring the fact that they could be fried at any second. My heart slammed against my chest as I got up.

My inner dragon roared. There was no controlling it. Maybe it was that Sybina recognized her enemies, or that I was tired of getting blown up and knocked down.

The strains of The Doors' "Light My Fire" rumbled from my core. Flames erupted along my hands, down my arms and legs.

Mom and Dad skidded to a stop about a foot away.