Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series)
Page 8
I hesitated to enter the dining room for fear of a confrontation with the family. Maybe they were already at one another’s throats over who would do what, when, and how, and I’d be spared for the moment. Subtle whispers grew into a full-blown, and loud argument. Well, heck, I might as well face it.
I strode into the room, stood at the table, and gawked at them. Uncle Charles was chomping and yelling between bites, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t get another meal. Aunt Elizabeth daintily nibbled a wee sandwich while inserting her own complaints in between those of Uncle Charles. My father sat across from them and said nothing. Smythe hovered near the entrance of the dragon’s room, in quiet conversation with Cullen. Oh yeah, I was ready for an assault from my relatives, and didn’t have to wait long for it to surface.
“Linty, dear, you certainly have no intention of moving into this enormous house, do you?”
“It seems to be my calling, Aunt Elizabeth, so yes, I will make the changes needed to settle into the estate, and especially where the dragons are concerned,” I answered.
Charles stepped forward and bellowed, “You must be joking. The dragons are just statues that Mother and past generations hoarded for years. She took over the lot of them when Grandfather dropped dead in his stew. Not long after, she sent Taryn and I off to boarding school so we wouldn’t know what was going on. You aren’t planning to live here by yourself, are you? The house is enormous, the grounds unkempt, and I’m more capable than you are of dealing with the mess Mother left behind.”
“Calm down, Uncle Charles, there’s no reason to yell and make demands. It’ll take me a few days to get acclimated, and of course, should I need your assistance, or Dad’s, I’ll contact you. Please don’t make this transition more difficult for me than it need be,” I said gently, but with a hefty measure of confidence backing up my words.
My uncle blustered a bit while his crumb-laden, heavy mustache twitched. Where were those scissors? He went back to the table for a second helping of everything. Aunt Elizabeth’s attitude was far less belligerent, but then, I knew she’d take a different tack, since she’d lived with this bully for far too many years, and had learned to play his game well.
“My dear, feel free to ask for our help any time you wish. We’ll stay at the inn for the next week or so to give you time to see how this responsibility will work out for you.” Elizabeth turned a glance toward Charles, caught his attention and gave him a slight nod. If I wasn’t mistaken, they had a silent conversation only they understood. The hairs on my arms bristled, but I thanked her and addressed my father.
“Will you also be staying on for a while?”
“Not likely, but we’ll talk later this evening, just you and I,” he murmured meaningfully.
What he meant by the cryptic remark was anybody’s guess, but I imagined it wouldn’t be fun-filled.
I walked up to the two men standing in the doorway taking in the tableau of my family and said, “Thank you for being so helpful, both of you. I appreciate your assistance, Mr. Smythe,” I turned to Cullen and continued, “and of course, you have been more helpful than you can imagine, Cullen. Let me walk you out.”
I tucked a hand into the crook of each of their elbows and marched out the front door with them, whether they liked it or not. When I glanced up at Cullen, a smile played at the corners of his lips. Smythe’s expression was cool, his glance cold, and it chilled me to think what was behind it.
As we neared their respective cars, I invited them for dinner in a few days’ time to discuss my plans for the estate and the dragons. Both men agreed to meet here around seven, and from there, I stepped back and watched as they got in their cars and drove off.
How long could I keep up the act of being cool, confident, and in control? I had no idea, but I knew today had been a worthy test for me. I returned to the house when I heard their voices raised in anger once more. Nose-to-nose, my father and Charles argued. I sighed, straightened my spine, and marched through the entryway bearing an attitude the size of Scotland.
“What is going on here?” I demanded.
His anger so hot, Dad’s brogue was sharp. Usually, he kept his accent under control, but he was in rare form and his speech pattern was rich. “Ye’ll not take what Mother has given the gal. Ya woon’t, Charles, I woon’t allow it, ye hear?”
It was rare that Dad spoke this way, or with a heavy brogue, and I could only remember once when it had been as evident as it was now.
“Dad, calm down. Let’s all sit at the table and behave like adults instead of fighting like children. Nothing is ever accomplished by screaming at one another, and frankly, I won’t tolerate it. Now sit down, and be rational, yeah?”
Twenty minutes later, an empty wine bottle, and bits of food left on our plates, we had come to the conclusion that each of us harbored some sort of grief against the others. The fact that we could sit and speak calmly meant we had a chance to come to terms with Gran’s great plans for the estate, and all that went with it.
“I heard you went to a dinner party last night at George Blome’s castle. That must have been interesting,” Dad said. “Who was the guest of honor?”
I’d wondered at the man’s last name, though Vaughn hadn’t said. The name meant nothing to me, but gave me an idea of where to start searching for information on these wraith-like people. “Why would there be a guest of honor?” I asked, wondering how he’d found out.
“Blome never throws a party without a guest of honor. Who was it, Linty?”
“Mr. Perkell,” I said and watched the trio closely. Elizabeth’s eyes bulged, Charles leaned back in his chair and dropped his gaze to the table, while Dad’s skin blanched to a pure shade of white. Yikes.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Uh, nothing, Linty. It never occurred to me that Perkell would be there, or even invited, never mind as an honorable guest. He has a questionable background, has tread on many dangerous toes in his time, and is a gatherer of unbelievable treasures.” A shadow of a smile flickered across my father’s face before he said, “Assuming he knows who you are, I can only guess he’ll be in line with the others who would like to acquire the dragons.”
“That might be so, but he never mentioned it when we spoke,” I lied. “Though others made their intentions quite plain.”
“Oh?” Dad and Charles spoke in unison, and I gave them a grin.
“That certainly caught you both by surprise.”
Much to my aunt and uncle’s dismay, Dad murmured, “Let’s talk about this later, shall we?”
I shrugged. “Sure, now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest. These past few days have been draining.”
“Certainly, we’ll check in with you tomorrow, Linty,” Elizabeth murmured while she urged Charles out of his chair.
Dad rose, leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be by around six with dinner for us. What would you like?”
Aware of Gran having been poisoned, and aware of my mistrust of my father, I said, “Oh, well, nothing really. I’m sure Mrs. Douglas left plenty of food in the fridge. I’ll throw something together for us before you get here. How does that sound?”
He kissed my cheek and said it would be fine. With that, he followed my aunt and uncle into the yard. Thankful for the peace and quiet, I watched them drive away.
No sooner had their cars disappeared down the curving drive, than I thought I saw Drake’s tail twitch.
Chapter 8
Before I knew it, a puff of smoke followed. I strode toward the beast and stood directly in front of him.
“What has you so disturbed today?” I demanded. Good golly, I was tired. And frustrated. And confused. And a whole bunch of other things I hadn’t yet identified.
A whisper came forth as Drake’s eyes began to glow amber gold. “You’d be well advised to take heed of your surroundings and the people who fill them. I’m unable to physically help you yet, but I will when you find the key.”
Was he talking about THE KEY? The one and only ke
y that opened the upstairs door to the room that might hold treasures, or nightmares, beyond my wildest dreams?
“What key, Drake?” I asked.
“In a book that will bring me to life, so we can find what must be brought into the light.”
I’d not only been bombarded with a house full of tension and people willing to claw each other’s eyes out over old, best-forgotten issues, now I needed to find a key to bring Drake fully alive? Was I ready for that? Hells bells, what next?
“Should I be worried about a book, the key, and you coming to life?”
No word of a lie, Drake seemed to smile at the question. I took a cautious step backward and left the room. Maybe he wasn’t the childhood playmate I’d thought, but something much more scary. The notion nearly rocked me off my feet, especially when a long-ago memory sneaked into my consciousness. There was a time when I’d hauled Drake from his stand, lugged him around held tightly in my arms and chattered to him incessantly until Gran stormed into the room and said I’d better put him back where he belonged and not fool around with a dragon I had no right to. I cried when she sent me to my room as punishment for having dragged the beasty from his perch and done what she considered unthinkable. Little had I known then, that he’d warmed from my touch, but that’s a story for another day.
Try as I might, I couldn’t find the key to the damn door, and frustrated in my efforts to do so, I tossed each room upstairs, and then began a major search of the first level of the house. Painstakingly, I went from room to room, removed every drawer from desks, antique cabinets, and tallboys. The dining room sideboard was a particular challenge since the drawers stuck fast and it was all I could do to pull them out, let alone remove them. Not one single key did I find, and frustrated anger took hold.
I glanced at the clock, figured I’d best ready dinner before my father arrived and then straighten up the mess I’d created throughout the entire house. The rooms above were in shambles as though a thief had ransacked them. On a hefty sigh, I stretched, rubbed my tired back, and went into the kitchen to cook.
Dinner was in the oven, while I raced upstairs to straighten the rooms, and then repeated the same on the first floor. I’d just finished as a knock on the door announced my father’s arrival. He smiled when I bade him enter, and glanced around oddly. What or whom he expected to find, other than me and the dragons, I didn’t know, but wondered aloud. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, no,” he denied and gave a wide smile as he asked what was for dinner. Dad had never come to dinner or visited my own residence, so this would be a first for both of us. I motioned him into the kitchen, where I’d laid places for us at the table. He glanced at me, and then sat obediently when I pointed to a chair.
“Whatever you’ve made smells wonderful, Linty.”
“We have assorted leftovers from today, and I put together a quiche I learned to make while in America.”
The food went quickly, both of us eating in a relaxed manner instead of having to be proper. I picked at the last bits of food on my plate as I neared the stuffed-full of good food stage.
Dad chuckled and said, “You always did that as a child.”
“What?”
“Pick at your food when you’d eaten enough, but thought you wanted more.”
“Since we rarely ate together on a regular basis, I’m surprised you realize that about me.” I put forth my resentment of not having had the same type of life many normal, or what I thought of as normal, families had.
“You’d be surprised at what I know about your habits, Linty.” Dad leaned back, set his fork down and stared at me. “You’re an adult, a smart woman, and you should put this ridiculous resentment aside. I did what I had to do for your safety, and that meant removing you from Scotland. What lay awaiting you in this house was worth taking you away to the States, where you were safe and you got a good education. I know you might have been lonely for the family, but I can’t tell you how unhealthy it would have been for you to grow up on this side of the Atlantic.”
I gazed at him as though he were a stranger, instead of my father. What the hell was he hinting at? Why wouldn’t I have been safe? Would it have been due to the dragons that I would have been in jeopardy?
“You might want to explain that to me, because I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about,” I remarked dryly.
His gaze locked onto mine and he pushed his plate away. He pulled his cup of coffee closer to him and sipped while he seemed to contemplate what to say. Clearly, he was having difficulty.
“I do wish someone would clear up all the shit that’s gone on since I was summoned to Scotland from Boston. You, Smythe, Cullen Vaughn, and others have acted weird, and to be honest, I’m sick to death of it. So speak up,” I insisted.
“You inherited quite an American attitude, and their way of saying things while you lived stateside. I’m sorry you weren’t allowed to live in Scotland, or England, for that matter while you were young. As I’ve said, it wasn’t a healthy environment for you. Mother had taken over as dragon keeper when Grandfather passed away, and she became quite odd where the dragons were concerned. Charles and Elizabeth wanted to have her committed due to her beliefs, but I insisted she be left alone.”
“Odd? How exactly?”
“She began to talk about the dragons as though they were living creatures. It got to a point where I thought she’d been alone too long, and I offered to hire a companion for her. She flatly refused, of course. I was unable to live here at the time, though I did drop in as often as I could.”
Snidely, I remarked, “You mean, you came to see her when it was convenient for you, when you weren’t off on some grand adventure?”
“Linty, I’m not an adventurer. I’m a finder of unique objects,” Dad said curtly.
I snorted and muttered, “Right.”
His brows rose at my remark and he said, “Getting back to Mother. I realized she was being influenced by the dragon keeper responsibility. Buyers would come to finagle a deal with her to get the dragons they sought in order to complete their own collections. They were quite insistent and it frazzled her nerves. This all took place while you were far away from what was happening.”
“Gran mentioned there were people who tried to coerce her into selling the dragons, but she stood fast, and refused to give in. That was around the time she met Cullen Vaughn, wasn’t it?”
Dad gave a slight nod. “He’s not the nice person you think he is, but he stopped the harassment Mother got from those who were after the dragons. She came to trust him, or so she said, and I think he protected her as much as he could.”
“Surely, he did that because he wanted the dragons for himself.”
“He never said, and she didn’t either. The entire collection of dragons has remained intact for centuries, as Mother insisted it was supposed to.” He drank the last dregs of coffee from his cup and then asked for more. “I do know Charles would sell them off to the highest bidders.”
I agreed and obliged by filling his cup again, brought pastries to the table, and saw him shake his head when I offered him the plate. “Rest assured, if I have anything to do with it, Uncle Charles will never have the chance to sell the dragons.”
“There’s something you should know about the dragons, Linty. Mother often ranted on and on about them being dangerous if awoken. She said once that happened, they would be freed from their statuary form and could wreak havoc before returning to their natural habitat. At that time I didn’t take her seriously, though she remained adamant over it. Once I learned more about the dragon seekers who tried to purchase the dragons, I began looking into those people and their backgrounds. I’m afraid many of them are confident that they can bring the dragons to life.”
My mouth hung open, I knew it because I sucked in a huge breath. The words Drake whispered earlier found their way into my head once again, and I knew what Gran had said was true, even though I was reluctant to believe it. “So you came to finally believe th
e dragons are simply encased in these statue-like outer shells?”
With a nod, Dad leaned his elbows on the table, cupped his coffee mug in both hands, and stared at me over the rim of it. “I have. Buyers would try their best to bring them to life, and one of them may already have the key to doing so. Believe me, if they don’t own the dragon needed to complete their collection of five dragons, they won’t be able to succeed. Why do you think it’s so important for you to live here with the dragons, like Mother did, and so many before her have? This house is hallowed ground for the dragons, a duly respected place for those who believe in magic, spells, and whatnot.”
I leaned back, fiddled with my fork, finally dropped it onto the plate and poured a glass of wine for me, and a whiskey for Dad. He grinned, took a swallow, and then waited as I digested all he’d imparted.
“Essentially, what you’re saying is, if I have this key, I should safeguard it from all the other collectors. If I mess with it, the dragons will be freed from their inanimate form and wreak havoc? And, if the land is hallowed, then why was Gran murdered?” Drake’s ability to flick his tail, grin, puff smoke, and speak to me left little doubt about the key and its powers.
He inclined his head and said, “The hallow only protects the dragons from harm. I can’t imagine who would poison Mother. You believe me, don’t you?”
Pensive, I hesitated to answer and then said, “Drake has spoken to me for as long as I can remember, though I always thought I had imagined it. He responds to me for some reason.” I drank the wine, poured a second glass, and grimaced over the fear that I might become an alcoholic if I kept this up.
Dad’s eyes widened, his expression stiffened, and he stared at me in silence.
“It’s true, Dad. He insists I find the key so he can help me solve the mystery of Gran’s death. Gran left me a letter stating I should trust Drake and allow him to work with me to find her killer.” I waved my hands as he opened his mouth. “Still talking,” I remarked as he would have interrupted my word flow. “If I bring Drake to life using this key, will all the other dragons be freed at the same time? Is the key a real key or a spell, or what?”