Don't Slay the Dragon (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

get caught up on each other’s life.
    She looked thicker and more muscular somehow.  She told me that her and her mom had really gotten involved in martial arts and they were both working towards getting their black belts in Karate.  She was going to be taking her PSAT test soon, the preparatory test for the college SATs.  She was hoping to get a high enough score to be considered by some of the Ivy League universities for scholarships.  Gone was the whimsical, free spirit I had known before.  In her place was this conservative, sharp dressed, young woman with very short hair, fast-paced walk and style, and brimming with energy.  She was serious, sober, and completely goal oriented.  It was hard to believe she was the same person.
    She seemed more high-strung and jumpy, more alert somehow.  She kept glancing behind and around her, like she needed to keep an eye out for something unexpected to happen.  If I didn’t know better, I would think there was a more haunted look to her eyes too. 
    We agreed to get together that weekend over at her place.  I was going to bring some of my new art supplies and we were going to sit outside in the warm fall sun, escape into the world of art, and forget some of the stresses in our life for a while.  Just like old times.
    “So, be over to your home at ten Saturday morning, right Lisbeth?”  I asked as we parted.
    “Sounds great, but don’t call me Lisbeth, I don’t like that anymore.  I like Beth Ann better.”
    I watched her as she walked away down the hall.  That was odd.  Beth Ann?  I guess it kind of suited her new image.  I was long since past the point of having anything she did or said surprise me.  Still, there was something unsettling about it.

 
    Chapter Seven

     
    Back in the small room of ward D, I looked at the bright, child-like glow in her eyes.  She bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting patiently for recognition of her artwork.
    “It’s beautiful, Lizzy.”  I smiled at the pleasure that came into her expression.  “Look at all the detail you put into it.”
    She shrugged with embarrassment at the compliment but I knew she enjoyed it. 
    “It’s not my best.  They won’t let me use markers here.  I wrote on my hands by accident one day.  Nurse Rosie took my markers away.  Could you get them back for me?”  She gave me a shy, pleading look.  Little Lizzy was so gentle and sweet.  My heart melted for the innocence I saw on her face.  I reached over to touch her shoulder, to reassure her that I would talk to the staff and try to get her markers back. 
    The passage of years had dulled my instincts.  I should have known better than to touch her without warning.  Quicker than my eyes could follow, she turned her back on me, brought her right hand low then swung it high, the sharp edge of her palm connecting with my wrist with such speed and power that it sent me off balance and made me stagger back a few steps.  I clutched my throbbing hand to my chest, hoping that nothing was broken but knowing I would at least have a dark bruise.
    She backed into the corner of the room between her bed and the wall, feet braced apart, entire body taunt, hands up in front of her in a defensive stance.  She looked at me through the black-green slits of her eyes then darted her gaze around the room as if expecting dark creatures to jump out from every corner. Back and forth. Back and forth her eyes darted, senses on high alert, eyes, ears, even nose attuned to the environment around her. 
    I backed up a few more feet and took a jagged breath.  I was almost to the door.  How much danger was I in?  Could I risk calling down the hall to the staff?  Should I make a run for it? 
    “Who’s here with you Caitlyn?”  It was a deep, masculine voice, low and powerful, commanding.  That voice had visited me in my nightmares for years.  It was smooth as satin and sinister.  “You’re not here alone, are you?”
    I knew the best way of handling