A Shade of Dragon by Bella Forrest

orange sparkle in the reflection… right behind me?
    Turning, I saw nothing. Nothing but floral wallpaper.
    The orange flutter was still there. A shadow crossed in front of it and I gasped, dropping the pendant. As it fell, it slit into my thumb and pulled with it a bead of blood. “Dammit,” I hissed, sticking my thumb into my mouth and leaning down to scoop up the pendant.
    So crazy… The orange flicker was still there, clearer now, beneath a smear of my blood.
    Suddenly, the shadow crossed the surface of the pendant again and turned. It was Theon. I could see him illuminated by the orange sparkle: a fire? Was I seeing into that cave again?
    Theon turned his head as if somehow aware of my watchful eyes, then advanced—seemingly toward the pendant—and stared into its surface. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear the words. Still, it looked like he was saying, “Nell? Nell?”
    Startled, I shoved the pendant under a cushion and stood up from the window box as if it was a spider I’d just killed there. Shaking my head and breathing unevenly, I advanced toward the bed and climbed in. I hiked the blankets up to my chin. It had to have been my imagination.

Chapter 12: Nell
    T he next morning was the day before Christmas Eve. As my eyelids drifted open, my very first thought was of the single present I still had left to get: Dad’s. I was terrible at shopping for him. I tended to gravitate toward practical items: state-of-the-art watches, weather-insulated socks, and gadgets designed to reduce clutter. Dad, on the other hand, selected gifts based on sentimentality and indulgence: replicas of the things I’d cherished in childhood, extravagant plots for our next holiday vacation, and cold hard cash.
    I was going to have to spend the day shopping. Augh. That meant I would have to talk to Dad in order to borrow the Mercedes. Awkward.
    I pulled a pair of jeans over my thermal underwear and dressed in a slinky wool poncho the color of champagne. I admired the ensemble in the vanity mirror, then realized that the perfect jewelry to give this an added flair was Theon’s pendant. I dug it out from under the cushion, examined it just enough to discern that it was reflecting my own face back at me, and then strung it around my neck. I pulled on a pair of black boots and braided my hair sloppily. I didn’t bother with makeup, save a dab of concealer on the mark at my jaw and a dab of balm for my lips. With that, I snatched my wallet and headed downstairs.
    Sage was playing a zombie shooter game on his console, sprawled out in the living room like a Roman king. In the kitchen, Dad busily cooked omelets at the stove, and Zada was out on the porch, sitting in the lotus position on some patio furniture. “Hey, Dad,” I greeted, never looking at him. “What’s going on?”
    “Making breakfast for everybody, and then I’ve got a real quick video conference with my top-tier resort managers, and then I should be free for the rest of the day. Why, what do you want to do? Hey, what would you like on your omelet? Cheddar cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and kale—am I right or am I right?”
    I rolled my eyes. Yes, that was pretty much my exact favorite set of ingredients for an omelet, other than eggs, naturally. “And mushrooms, if you have any,” I added, just to be difficult. I guessed Dad could be right about Mom and I; we could both be contrary bitches from time to time. “I need to run to the store and pick up some last-minute things. Is it okay if I take the car?”
    “Of course it’s okay,” Dad replied, but I could hear a note of melancholy in his voice. He was the best actor I’d ever seen when it came to hiding his own disappointments. “But you’re going to miss Morning-Before-the-Morning-Before-Christmas Omelets.”
    “I’ll make peace with that,” I said, my tone cool. “You could come with me, if you want.” I added that out of guilt.
    Dad sighed. “No, no, I’ve got that meeting thing. It’s