Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series)

by J. M. Griffin

  I peeked around Cullen’s elbow and stepped forward. Before introductions could be made, George gave Cullen a brief glance and centered his attention on me as he said, “I see you brought the dragon keeper.” He leaned forward, offered me a razor-sharp smile, and took my hand in his. His crepe paper skin gave me the willies, and left me with a sense of having touched a long-dead corpse. His features were sharp and bony, the skin covering them stretched tight.

  He led me away from Cullen and we walked around the glittering room as he explained his lineage and the centuries of his ancestors’ lives depicted in the numerous paintings hanging on the walls. Every painting included a dragon, looking intently out at the viewer. Large, small, or tiny, a dragon had been inserted, even though it took time to find the small ones. We stopped in front of a painting that nearly caused me to gasp. Drake was in full war mode, his golden eyes afire, and his fangs bared while his claws ripped through an advancing army. He was vicious, angry, and menacing. I loved him anyway.

  “This is Drake the Conqueror. He was a fierce dragon who aided my family in the fifth century. With his help, my ancestors brought many a battle to a final end. We, of course, were the victors. Unfortunately, Drake is no longer with the remainder of our dragon collection that is kept under lock and key, but resides at Dragon Hill, instead.” His words were followed by a sniff, and I turned to see the gleam in his eyes as he stared at the painting of my dragon.

  I’d begun to speak when we were approached by a servant who whispered in George’s ear. The old man turned his head sharply and gave the servant a terse nod. “Come with me Ms. Dragon, I wish to introduce you to my guest of honor.”

  Not knowing what to expect, or how to extricate myself from his clutches, the creepy man drew me forward. My senses sharpened as we neared another tall, gaunt gentleman, whose flaming red hair stood out in a similar style to that of Albert Einstein, his intense bird-like, brown eyes missed nothing. I felt I’d been cast into a horror film with the walking dead. He, too, was pale and had a look of death personified. Geesh, what had I gotten into here?

  “Perkell, so good to see you,” George said with a smile that creased his cadaver-like skin. “This young woman is the new dragon keeper of Dragon Hill, Lynn Tegan Dragon. Ms. Dragon, I present Arwin Perkell.”

  The introduction held some type of importance that I found intriguing. Why did he feel the need to say I was a dragon keeper? No one, as yet, was supposed to know that I had been made the new keeper by Gran, or had I simply been the last one to know? Well, shit, someone had opened their mouth, and Smythe’s name came to mind.

  Perkell’s dark brown eyes pierced mine as he shook my hand. “Ah, Ms. Dragon, I’m happy to meet you at last. Sorry to hear of Essie’s untimely death. You must be distraught, my dear.”

  “Indeed, I am,” I murmured and then said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I gave him a smile that cost me dearly to summon. Wading through a bog would have been easier than understanding what made these people tick. The ability to charm people and accomplish a goal hadn’t been an issue in my short lifetime. I could make a deal in no time flat when it came to what I knew best. Restoration and restructuring ancient tomes, and bringing them back to life, was how I made a living. This was a whole different set of circumstances. I quickly glanced around the room and found Cullen’s stare on us. He gave me a slight nod that I took to mean I was doing fine. Doing what fine? I hadn’t a clue.

  George faded off into the crowd. I turned my attention to Perkell, who had now tucked my hand into the crook of his bony arm as we walked through the crowd toward a waiter. He offered me a glass of champagne and then took one for himself. I pretended to sip, but had no intention of missing one single nuance since I knew Cullen would question me later.

  “Where did George go and what’s his last name again? I seem to have forgotten,” I asked. Though I’d never heard George’s last name, I wanted to gather my own information.

  A smile was all I got as Perkell glanced about and then settled his gaze on me once again.

  “Tell me, Ms. Dragon, what do you have in common with your dragons?”

  “I-I’m not sure what you’re asking, Mr. Perkell,” I stuttered.

  “You have Drake, don’t you? I would like to acquire him. As a dragon keeper, you must know you have the power of the dragons behind you. All of them are rare, the last of their collective, and have mystical abilities that you could make a fortune from. Why not allow those of us who would like to do so, acquire them?”

  Irritation settled on me like a mantle as I considered his game. Memories flooded back, ones I’d been trying to remember since I’d arrived at Gran’s estate but couldn’t quite get a handle on. There’d once been a thick, heavy book of dragon lore stored at the house. As a child, I remembered sneaking into the room where the tome sat alongside the dragons, and carefully reading its ancient pages. I’d fallen in love with rare and old books in school and had a deep appreciation for that particular book. From a young age, I’d made it my goal to become a book restoration expert. Early on in my career, so many of the books I’d encountered were in such sad shape they had to be carefully scanned and stored on computer drives for fear the original would fall completely apart and be gone forever.

  As memories swamped me, Perkell’s eyes grew wide. I dipped my head and pretended to take a sip from the glass that slightly shook in my hand. Not only had I read the pages, I’d eventually been caught out by Gran and reprimanded for touching the ancient volume. I had no idea at the time why she was so angered by my attempt to read about the dragons, but even then I knew there was more to the book than she’d ever let on. I’d become more adroit at finding ways to read it, when she caught me a second time, and removed it from the room. Was that why the door at the end of the upstairs corridor was locked?

  I drew a deep breath and answered Perkell sweetly, “The dragons are not for sale, for gift, or to be shared with anyone. As dragon keeper, it is my responsibility to keep them safe and protect their magic.” I’d shocked Perkell and myself with that remark. I suddenly realized that I knew each dragon had magical capabilities as well as I knew my own name. The memory had asserted itself in my mind the moment I remembered the book and its contents. Dragons were more than folklore, they’d been owned by families all over the world, but had somehow become encased in the shells we took as carved statues. My head reeled with this latent knowledge. Where their power had come from was still a mystery, but if the dragons were unleashed, I was certain there would be hell on this earth.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Ms. Dragon. There are many people here who would relish owning one of the dragons in your keeping. My family has a history of owning dragons, much as George’s does, where one or more of your dragons had played a part in their ancestors’ lives. Our ancestors went to war with dragons at their sides, the beasts are ferocious and fiercely attached to the original families they fought for. We are one with our dragons, no matter if they are owned by you or not. This goes back to the fifth century or maybe even before that,” Perkell said with a flick of his bony hand.

  “You might wish to reconsider your decision to keep all the dragons that might have been illegally gained, when you are approached,” Perkell said in a flinty voice. “Life could become dangerous for you and your dragons, if you don’t take care.” With that, he excused himself and left me standing alone in a crowded room where people gave me furtive looks and then whispered to one another.

  I’d set the champagne glass on a tray as a waiter slowly moved past, when my elbow was cupped by a strong hand. Cullen whispered in my ear before he kissed my brow. Surprised, I smiled, and once again pretended all was well.

  My smile widened as I turned to him and accused, “You threw me under the bus, thanks a lot.”

  His eyes flashed a bit and then he said, “Is that an American term for leaving you hanging in the wind?”

  “Yes, and don’t do it again,” I said keeping the grin in place.

  “Get used to
it, this situation will become far worse before it gets better.” We strolled onto the enormous stone patio where a trio of string musicians played. No rock and roll here, just sophistication, heavily bejeweled, gorgeous women dressed to the nines, who accompanied men that looked like death warmed over. What the hell had I been thrown into?

  “Would you mind telling me why we’re here instead of going out to dinner as you promised?”

  “We’re about to have dinner, and I wanted to make you aware of what you’ll be up against once you completely take on the role of dragon keeper. There isn’t one person in this place that doesn’t yearn for your dragons. They’d kill each other to get their hands on them. Essie made it clear the dragons weren’t to be had for any amount of money in the world. On top of that, there are people in your family who wouldn’t hesitate to make a fortune from ridding themselves of the dragons. Linty, you must remember that your dragons have power beyond anything you ever dreamed of, and you’re to protect them at all costs. Understand?”

  Anxious, I nodded. Adrift in strange waters, I was worried about drowning, and that wasn’t an option if the tone of Cullen’s voice was a measure of how important my circumstances were, as well as the safety of the dragons. I had to find the dragon book, access the locked room, and take control of my life, besides figuring out who killed Gran and why.

  “Why would these people want the dragons? They’re inanimate objects now and I don’t think they can be returned to life, even if these people think it’s possible.”

  His snicker became a deep laugh, and I had the feeling I was very wrong, but didn’t know why.

  “That’s a discussion for another time, not now,” Cullen remarked.

  Dinner was announced and the crowd filtered into a room so long and deep that I couldn’t imagine what it took to clean it, set the table, or serve the food before it grew cold. I was out of my depth, for certain.

  Following Cullen’s lead, I sat, sipped, ate, and chatted with the person to my right. Cullen sat on my left and nudged me when I entered dangerous conversational ground. It didn’t take long before I learned to sidestep a double-edged question. Unwilling to enter a place where I would find myself at a loss, I smiled and merely uttered things that sounded stupid, even to me. Imagining this must be how politicians lived their lives, I remembered how the American senator had acted when I’d been invited to visit her country home in upstate New York. There’d been no real answers to questions from guests at her dinner party, but mere nods or laughter over banalities. Gosh, that stunk. I gazed up and down the length of the table, heard a few words here and there, and didn’t pay attention to too much of what was said.

  As dessert was served, my mind flicked over the problem of entering the locked room without damaging the door, the importance of finding the key, or maybe learning to pick the lock if it were at all possible. I sat back, listened to others at the table and glanced at those who gave me strange looks. I checked my dress to make certain I hadn’t slopped food down the front and then patted my mouth with the napkin should there have been crumbs lingering on my lips. Satisfied that all was well with my physical appearance, I decided to smile at those who stared. This was met with surprise, and I wondered why. My guess was these folks would never be my bosom buddies, and while I didn’t care, a sense of aloneness enveloped me more than it ever had.

  Chapter 6

  It didn’t occur to me that I’d heard much, but on the ride home, Cullen pressed me for answers to his questions.

  “What was the outcome of your eavesdropping at dinner? You were quite alert to the many conversations being carried on at our end of the table,” Cullen demanded to know.

  “Frankly, I didn’t garner much that made sense to me. Let me think about it until tomorrow, and we’ll discuss it then.”

  His eyes never wavered from the road, but the tension in his body chilled me to the bone. This was a dangerous man and my “spidey senses” flipped into overdrive.

  “You’ll tell me now while it’s all still fresh in your mind,” he insisted. “Our brains have a way of changing things we think we heard when we have time to think about it. Recount what you heard.”

  Try as I might, I couldn’t imagine that any of what had been said would be important, but then, I wasn’t Cullen and he seemed to have an agenda all his own. I had already wondered what interests he and Smythe had concerning my dragons and the affairs at Dragon Estate, but maybe it was time I took a closer look at why they seemed so vested. Perkell had made his wants clear, and the fact that I might be in jeopardy over my refusal to part with even one dragon sent a chill down my spine.

  “The man next to me was interested in the conversation I’d had with Perkell. Why? I don’t know, but he kept yammering about ownership of dragons and the responsibility of being a keeper. I don’t think he was happy when I stopped talking to him and chatted with the woman next to him.”

  “What was she interested in besides more jewelry?” Cullen asked snidely.

  I snickered and said, “She wondered if I’d talk to her sometime about Drake.”

  At the mention of her request, Cullen swerved a bit on the road, slowed the car, and pulled off to the side. Darkness engulfed the car, leaving a clear view of the stars twinkling in the sky above us. A shooting star trekked across the heavens and I followed it with my gaze.

  “She what?” he insisted.

  “Just what I said, she wants to talk to me about Drake and his background. Her family is quite interested in him, or so she said. I was about to ask about everyone’s pursuit where Drake is concerned, but I didn’t have a chance. The rude man across from her put a stop to the conversation which meant I couldn’t get more from her on the subject. Why is everyone after Drake, anyway?”

  His sideways glance was quick and his rigid features hinted that I didn’t know a damn thing, or was that my imagination at play again?

  “You don’t really know about Drake’s past, do you? How could Essie expect you to take on the role of dragon keeper when you aren’t educated in his lineage? Christ.” Cullen sighed, ran a hand through his dark hair and started to drive onto the road again when I reached out and said, “Beware!”

  He looked around, stared in the rearview mirror, and then gave me a quick glare. “Really?”

  He’d let his foot off the brake when a car careened around the corner, narrowly escaping a collision with us. The car sped off into the night, Cullen braked, slammed the shift stick into park and asked, “How did you know there was a car coming?”

  With a slight shrug, I said I had no idea, but simply knew it.

  “We really need to talk, alone, with no interruptions from anyone. Are you up for a long night or what?”

  “Not if you plan to go on about my stupidity and treat me as though I’m an idiot. And, you will tell me as much as I tell you, understand? I’m working in the dark where these collector’s and some of their prior ownership of the dragons are concerned. Remember this, I haven’t had a lifetime spent with the dragons, I had to sneak to read Gran’s dragon book, and frankly, I was just a kid when I read it. I probably didn’t retain half of the information in those pages. So back off.”

  By now, we’d driven through the gates of Dragon Hill Estate and Cullen parked the car in the rear of the yard. We took the short flight of steps onto the patio, where I waited while he took my key to open the back door.

  I grabbed his arm and whispered, “Drake is upset.”

  His head whipped around in my direction and he stopped cold. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he peered into my eyes. “Why?”

  “I think someone’s in the house, possibly messing with him.”

  He took a breath, shook his head briefly, and crept into the kitchen on silent feet. I took my shoes off and followed him inside, gratefully staying just behind him. We’d entered the living room where light glowed from the fireplace and cast shadows that moved in a faltering dance. I scanned the room and peered at Drake. From this distance, I could see his eyes glow and
a tendril of smoke rise from one nostril. What might have been a trick of light rather than what it really was, I even thought he’d flicked the chevron point of his tail. I’d read a myth once that it was a telltale sign of annoyance when dragons, cat-style, flick the tip of their tail prior to a full-on assault.

  I grabbed Cullen’s sleeve and pointed to Drake. He nodded, took my arm tightly in his hand, and shoved me forward into the room with the glass cabinet filled with dragons. Drake’s stand held front and center place in the room. Pissed over the fact I’d been forced to enter first, I caught my balance and walked slowly toward the dragons.

  Dream-like I lifted a hand to Drake and murmured, “Suaimhneas.” A Gaelic word for rest, I watched his eyes dim, his tail still, and the smoke from his nostrils vanish. I regarded the other dragons and noted some of them had been moved, or possibly they’d moved on their own. At this point, I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t, I only knew the dragons hadn’t been alone.

  “Tha sinn duilich ach cha deach càil a lorg?” I asked Drake softly. Who had been here, I wanted to know.

  I got nothing from him, not even a mere glimmer of recognition in his eyes, only silence. With a glance over my shoulder, I realized Cullen stood directly behind me, staring as if I were from another galaxy. With a shake of my head and a voice filled with angst, I turned and said, “Are you trying to scare me to death, or what?”

  His answer was odd, as was his tone. “I didn’t know you spoke Gaelic.”

  “I don’t speak Gaelic, what are you going on about?”

  His disbelieving eyes stared into mine as he remarked, “Linty, you just spoke to Drake in Gaelic.”

  Wide-eyed at his insistence, I thought hard for a moment and then shook my head. “I didn’t, I simply told him to be at rest and then asked who’d been here. You must have misunderstood.”

  My insistence must have gotten through to him, because he turned away and took a seat on the sofa.