Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) by J. A. Pitts Page A

whisper—“really killed a dragon.” He glanced over his shoulder and back. “They are gonna flip their shit.”
    “And do what?”
    He pulled back, shocked. “You mean it’s true?”
    Now it was Katie’s turn to shrug. “Why are you asking me? If you’re watchers, wouldn’t this be the exact kind of thing you should be watching for? If you don’t even know if that much is true, how good can you guys be. Sheesh.”
    Charlie flushed. “They’re a bunch of old women,” he said. “All they do is drink their tea, bitch about the old days, and warn us against moving too fast. I’m the youngest recruit and I don’t know much.” This was something that had been eating him a while, it seemed. “Half the time I think they only recruited me because they needed a gopher—or more likely free vet care for their damned cats.”
    Katie smiled at that. That’s how Jimmy made her feel. Like she wasn’t good enough to play with the grownups. “I guess they saw something there,” she said, feeling her anxiety drain away. “I’m sure you add something to the group.” Suddenly she felt very sorry for young Charlie Hague. He was about her age, maybe a year older, and, it seemed, out of his league.
    “Well, you’d think I had something to add,” he started, getting a full head of steam. “Like speaking seven languages, having degrees in history, veterinary medicine, and theater?”
    “Really?”
    “Hey, I thought I was going into the CIA. I had no idea all this dragon bullshit existed.”
    They stood there a minute, quietly. He was looking at his feet again and she watched him.
    “Okay, we’ll call you,” she said, holding out her hand.
    He fumbled with his bag, shuffling it to his other hand and held up the now crumpled business card. “We can arrange a meeting anytime you want,” he said, smiling. “Gottschalk will want things to be secure and obfuscated.”
    “Oh, we’re all over that,” she said, taking the card. “Let me make some calls and we’ll get back with you.”
    He looked relieved, grabbed his pack to his chest and stepped back toward the door. “Crazy running into you. I really was looking in on Mrs. Danby’s rabbits.”
    Katie waved at him as he hurried down the hallway and out the door at the end. She glanced down at the card. Crazy days.
    She shut her classroom door and went back to her desk, dropping the card in a coffee mug she kept pencils in and sat down, rubbing her temples. There was headache building and she needed to either get some painkillers in her, or find a nap somewhere.
    Instead she opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out her mother’s diary once again. She stroked the cover, thinking. That was a lot of coincidence right there. He seemed harmless, but seriously … She should go down the hall to Mrs. Danby’s room, see if she was still around. The thought made her forehead ache. Better to sit here a minute, close her eyes and think.
    For a few moments just having her eyes closed seemed to be helping. Then she felt a pulse from the diary. A tiny throb that barely registered against her finger tips. She cracked her eyes and looked around. She had a ground floor classroom, so anyone could be snooping out in the bushes. Better to take this someplace away from prying eyes.
    She looked to the back of her classroom and saw the small bathroom. All the kindergarten classes had one. The little ones didn’t always have time to make it down the hall.
    The door shut quietly behind her as she flicked on the light. There was no sound in here. She lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down, caressing the book. Her mother’s book. This held secrets of her mother that no one knew. Would it lead her to find her missing parents? God the pain of missing them was stronger these days.
    Taking a deep breath, she began to sing the little ditty Sarah had found among Nidhogg’s books. The discordant song that made her teeth ache and her nose bleed.
    She sang quietly while tracing the