It should have made me feel guilty that I was eating into her time, but I knew it for what it was—a stalling tactic. By the time she was done with her intended work, I’d have finished for the day. I’d be on the bus and she’d be checking my report, creating a ‘corrected’ version in her account, and uploading it, mistakes and all, to our shared workspace.

  If I was lucky, she’d be impatient to see me gone and rush the last stage of her plan, handing the incorrect report up to our supervisor, who was well and truly sensitized to my mistakes.

  Boy, was she in for a surprise.

  When I finished with this report, a copy of it was going to the supervisor’s secretary, the supervisor, and myself, and there was no way in Hades I was letting Shandra know it was gone. Instead of revealing my suspicions, I pretended gratitude, made the usual noises, said ‘only if you’re sure’ and ‘as long as you don’t think it will take up too much of your time’ and listened to her lying reassurances.

  “Bitch,” the dragon hissed, and I had to agree.

  The dragon rumbled a complaint, and I quelled it, tamping down its protest with an internal glare. I continued working in the computer space I shared with Shandra, but didn’t let her know I was saving each file I worked on into the security of my own workspace as well. After the disaster almost caused by the last report, I couldn’t afford another error. I also couldn’t afford for the blame from the last mistake to remain etched on my record.

  Shandra had introduced the mistake and made sure the blame fell on me. Shandra was the key. Now that I knew that, I could combat it, but I would have only one chance, and if I was to survive, Shandra had to believe I still trusted her completely.

  I made a point of being my usual friendly self. When the dragon stretched its claws and bared its teeth, I laid a hand on its nose and gently shushed it.

  There was nothing to be gained by defeating this enemy, I told it. That sneer had said it all. Shandra had decided I was prey and she would keep returning until she brought reality into alignment with that belief.

  I had to do more than defeat her. I had to destroy her totally. So, as well as having to keep one eye on a disgruntled dragon, I had to watch every move I made.

  I didn’t try for light-hearted. She wouldn’t expect that at all. I went for a slightly depressed, confidence-shaken demeanor. It wasn’t hard.

  I did feel slightly depressed, and my new-found confidence in life had been shaken. I’d thought I’d found a friend where everyone else had found a traitor. I’d thought I’d found a running mate where everyone else had found a backstabbing bitch.

  I’d been wrong, but at least I knew my skills hadn’t let me down. And that meant I had a chance of winning, after all. That was all that kept the dragon silent.

  I sensed its desire to shred her with its claws, open up her belly and spill her innards, making her scream before it tore her head off with one neck-wrenching snap. I shared its desire, and fought to keep the wanton beast in check.

  A day, I told it, was all we needed to achieve what we needed. A day and no more.

  It rumbled out a protesting growl. I hushed it, stroked its head in a secretive caress, and waited until my supervisor left his office. When he was gone, I took the document I’d asked Shandra to check and hid it in the bottom of his in-tray.

  The afternoon wore on in an entanglement of exchanges where I guarded every word. It helped that I’d seen the expression on her face when I’d left the supervisor’s office after the interview that morning. If I ever felt like relaxing, the dragon just had to bring it back to memory and replay the half-hidden sneer.

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  “What’s wrong with your hand?” Shandra asked, and I realized I’d been flexing my fingers like claws.

  “Cramp,” I said, improvising hastily. “I probably should have taken that break at lunch time. I’m not feeling all that great.”

  She stared at me a little longer, suspicion leaking from behind her concern, an undercurrent of unease shaking the air between us. Perhaps more of my feelings had surfaced on my face than I’d realized. The dragon stretched lazily, content with the bitter twitch of fear.

  “This morning has left me wondering if I can do this job at all,” I added, spicing my tone with a bit of self-pity and need.

  I hated it, and the dragon hated it. The snotty beast curled around itself turning its back to me. So deep was its disgust that I didn’t even try to soothe its ruffled scales. Its anger made me sad, and I pushed that sadness to the surface.

  Shandra saw it, and her expression softened, the suspicion leaking away as she once again dismissed me as inconsequential. I watched as she tried to get me to weaken my position further.

  “Why don’t you go home early, today?” she whispered. “I’ll cover for you.”

  I looked at her, ignoring the sharp tap, tap, tap of the dragon’s tail twitching back and forth.

  Like a cat, I thought. A particularly cranky cat.

  I studied Shandra as she watched me. For a long moment, I gave her the impression I was giving her offer some serious consideration. Like I was ever going to help her compromise me, ever again.

  She kept the sympathetic and supportive veneer on her face as she returned my stare. I sighed as though I might give in to the temptation, and anticipation sharpened her gaze. Shandra had claws of her own, I thought. She looked like she was scenting blood.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Oh, go on.” Shandra tried to reassure me. “I’ve got your back.”

  She had my back all right, right along with the dagger she intended to plant hilt deep in it. No way in Hades was I going to let her do it again. Once was more than enough.

  The dragon twitched its tail and huffed out a sigh of its own.

  How can you even think of being so stupid? it thought.

  I blew it a mental raspberry, and shook my head, looking regretfully toward my computer screen.

  “I’d love to,” I said, “but I really need to get this done. I guess I’ll just stick it out until five.”

  “But you started at eight,” Shandra protested. “You can’t stay that late.”

  “I have to get this done,” I said. “You know it has to be finished.”

  “Yeah, but not that urgently,” Shandra said, “and you know management don’t like us working late. They keep telling us it’s not what we’re paid to do.”

  I took a breath, let it out slowly, looked at her and made it look like I was letting her convince me. She’d arrived at nine, one deliberate hour after me. If I didn’t leave on time, how else was I going to give her enough time to go over my work and make the ‘corrections’ necessary?

  When she looked at my figures, she’d realize the report I was working on was complete. If the conniving bitch did what I expected her to, she’d have it ‘corrected’ and submitted before she left this afternoon, and I’d be in the muck so deep I’d never get out.

  “Oh, okay, I guess it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Sounding defeated, I turned to face her, using the kicked-puppy look as a veneer. “As long as that’s convenient for you.”

  Shandra smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

  “It’s fine. You know I’d do anything to help you out.”

  The dragon whipped around and rose onto its haunches, mouth wide.

  I clamped a mental hand around its jaws, stopping the roar in its throat, preventing it from bounding out of the shadow and up onto the desk, where it intended to rip Shandra’s throat out.

  It scrabbled at my hand as I nodded gratefully to my treacherous friend, before turning back to my computer. Cautiously, I let the dragon go, then put both hands on the keyboard. It huffed at me and sat, tail flicking back and forth, watching Shandra, and keeping an eye on me.

  After a minute of staring at me as I worked, Shandra mumbled an excuse about going to get an afternoon coffee. With a half-hearted ‘would you like one?’ she let me wave her away and left her desk.

  Knowing she’d be gone for at least half an hour, I bent to the task of re-checking the calculations on my report, hoping I hadn’t been too hasty in taking it in to the manager’s office. I checked and double-checked the figures, the spelling, the grammar, the format, and the words.

  The dragon looked over my shoulder, sitting on the back of my chair, its tail dangling behind us.

  The report was perfect, no different to the copy I’d already saved on my own drive. With my heart sinking at the thought of Shandra’s inevitable treachery, I dutifully saved the completed copy in the work space I shared with her. I had no doubt she’d be delighted. What she wouldn’t be delighted about was the copy already safely in the bottom of the manager’s in-tray, or the one I’d emailed to his secretary, asking her to keep it aside just in case the hard copy wasn’t enough.

  She’d given me a funny look when she came to check I hadn’t sent it by mistake, but agreed not to delete it until the following afternoon.