“Two die now. Billions die later.” She shrugged. “All I did was sing.”

Charlie Sang. As far as Jack knew, no one had ever drowned listening to her. “We’re not going to let billions die.”

“Really? We thought Gales were all about family and letting the rest of the world burn.”

They weren’t wrong.

“So where’s the Bard?” she asked, eyes narrowed. “I was looking forward to a truncated version of Canadian Idol. We could keep score with the lives of the audience. She saves more than I drown, she wins. They still lose, but who cares about them.”

“Go home.”

“Make me. Oh, wait . . .” Her smile didn’t fit on her face. “. . . you can’t.” One bare foot kicked a spray of water toward him. “You’re fire, I’m water, and as long as I’m in the middle of the river, which is pretty much where I am all the time, you can’t touch me. Everyone knows dragons can’t swim.”

Jack spread his wings. “Why would I swim?”

“You smell like beer.”

Charlie lifted her arm and waved the damp spot at him, the darker fabric barely visible in the predawn light. “Spill on the bar. I’m wearing more beer than I’m drinking these days. Did you get them?”

“I did.” Graham moved out from behind a sweet gum and into the predawn light. “And I got some information as well.”

“Chupacabras talk?”

“No. I ran into a young man who works at the golf club who was also hunting . . .”

“The chupacabras?”

“Why not? It’s his country,” Graham pointed out. Charlie noticed he too had damp spots on his jacket and made a mental note to have him leave it in the downstairs bathroom. Pregnant, Allie had a violent reaction to the smell of blood. “Jorge was, conveniently, out on the beach this afternoon. He says he saw two people driving the chupacabras out into the crowds. After that, the running and the screaming was pretty much guaranteed.”

“Did he say what the two people looked like?”

“Thin, arrogant, and tall. Real tall. He also said, they moved like dancers. Or water.”

“Or water?” Charlie frowned. “Are you sure you understood him?”

“He works at a five star resort, his English is better than mine. Thin, tall, strangely graceful—any idea why the Courts would drive chupacabras out to attack people?”

She shrugged. “Who knows what the Courts think is fun?”

“Valid point. However . . .”