Chapter Eighteen – Fleur
“I never expected to meet another dragon shifter from Bear Creek.” George stood back and examined Doran as if he were the latest exhibit to arrive at the museum.
“I never expected to meet a dragon shifter ever. Not in Bear Creek, not anywhere,” Fleur replied as she linked arms with Doran. “But look how that turned out.”
“The flock does keep growing, doesn’t it?” George replied.
“It does. And this member of the flock would like to know about the ruins on Woodacre. Plus, anything else you might know about his family.” Fleur patted Doran on the shoulder as if he were one of the exhibits.
“Ahh, Woodacre. Yes, a fascinating place. It’s been in the Rothmore family for generations. Edith Rothmore is the current owner.” George held out his hand and ushered them away from the museum foyer. “I’m surprised she’s selling. I came across a covenant signed and dated around the time Doran would have been put under the spell. It states that the land should always remain in the Rothmore family.”
“Rothmore. That was the family name of my brother’s mate.” His brow creased and Fleur wished she could wipe away all his stress and never see him frown like that again. The weight of his past rested heavily on his broad shoulders.
“Yes, I can trace them back from Edith all the way back to…”
“Yolanda Rothmore?” Doran whispered as if afraid to wake the ghosts of the past.
“Yes.” George led them to a door with a security control pad and tapped in his code before pulling the door open. He stood back and ushered them inside. “This leads to the museum archives. I can show you what I’ve found, and we can try to piece together the facts here with your memories.”
“Thank you.” Doran, his face ashen, waited for Fleur to enter before he followed. George entered the corridor last and closed the door securely behind them.
“We have complete privacy. Once we go down into the basement, no one can hear us.” George chuckled at their startled expressions. “Not that anyone would be listening. But until your treasure is moved, we should be extra cautious.”
Doran bristled like an angry cat at the mention of his treasure. “I am in no position to guard my treasure, or to move it.”
“I believe Harlan has organized its removal for tonight. He’ll store it in his vaults.” George pointed to a door leading off the corridor. “The archives are accessed down here.”
Doran pulled open the door and stood back while Fleur and George passed through to a small landing with stairs leading downward.
The basement, her bear commented drily, not liking the look of the shadowy stairway leading down into the darkness. However, George flipped a light switch and the area below was illuminated, revealing stacks of books and documents.
“We can’t thank them enough for helping Doran,” Fleur took hold of the handrail and followed George down the stairs. The air smelled faintly musty and Fleur hoped Doran wouldn’t decide to heat the place up with his hands of fire, if he did the whole collection might go up in flames.
“They are grateful there is another dragon in the area. It gives them hope that one day their numbers will swell, and they won’t feel so isolated.” George indicated a desk which was stacked high with books and parchments. “In my spare time, I’m down here studying the area for any information on where dragons might be buried.”
“Have you found anything?” Fleur asked. “Any information George might have found on dragons might help them locate someone who could lift the binding spell.”
“A couple of leads, which I’ve handed over to Ruby. She follows the leads and reports back what she finds. But so far no dragons.” He shrugged sadly. “Of course they are hidden away. Only their mates can awaken them so unless we had direct coordinates or there is a visible cave where they are sleeping, we’re in needle in a haystack territory. But we keep trying.”
“Have you ever found any other dragons?” Doran asked.
“The only dragons awoken from the Ancient Slumber spell are you, Emilia and Magnus,” George admitted. “We haven’t found or awoken any other dragons. Although, including Fiona and Harlan, there are four fully grown dragons alive.”
“Have you ever found a person capable of casting the spell?” Fleur was more interested in breaking the binding spell than finding other dragons. Although, she could understand why Doran was interested in finding more of his own kind.
“Casting a spell is not the same as breaking it. Believe me, we’re searching for answers,” George assured her. “But we are not likely to find direct answers down here.” He waved his hand around the room filled with books and rolled parchments. “What I can find down here, though, is history. And maybe if we do trace the history of Woodacre and those who have lived there we might find an answer.”
“Any answers would be helpful.” Doran walked closer to the crowded desk and picked up a parchment with faded writing scrawled across it. “This is a letter from the mayor of Bear Creek to the tanner who lived in Cougar Ridge.” He squinted as he read. “He was ordering a great deal of leather.”
“He was. It puzzled me for some time. He wanted leather suitable for a saddle. But the amount he ordered was enough to make more than ten saddles. Which got me thinking the leather was for a saddle to sit on the back of something bigger than a horse.” George tapped his nose. “Putting together these puzzles and coming up with plausible answers is the secret to unlocking history.”
“Guessing?” Fleur asked lightly.
“In the same way a real estate agent guesses the value of a property.” George’s eyes twinkled with amusement. The man might prefer to shut himself away in a dusty old museum basement, but he had a sharp mind and that was exactly what they needed if they were going to find a way to unleash Doran’s dragon.
“Touché,” Fleur giggled. “So what do you need from Doran?”
“Any names and dates he can recall. It’s important I get as many details as possible to improve the accuracy of my search. So much has changed, so much has been forgotten over the years. It can be difficult to pluck out one strand and unpick it accurately. Names change with marriage and divorce, children are born with the same names. I have to compile a paper trail as accurately as possible.” He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to hear all that.”
“No, but we do need to understand it.” Doran finished scanning the parchment in his hand and looked around the basement in wonder. “This room catalogs so much of the time I was asleep.”
“Yes. And more. It goes back further than the time you were put under Ancient Slumber. If I knew where to look, there might be stories here about your family,” George looked at Doran pointedly. “Your dragon family.”
Doran breathed in deeply before letting it out, while he absently rubbed the palm of his hand on his thigh. “I never knew my father. My mother told me little about him until I came of an age to shift.”
“Until then, Doran had no idea he was a dragon shifter,” Fleur added.
“Right, she tried to protect you and let you live a normal life.” George nodded with understanding. “Today, parents of dragon shifters are faced with the same problem. It’s difficult raising a child when their other side could be a danger to them.”
“A danger? There is nothing dangerous about having a dragon as the other half of yourself,” Doran said hotly. Too hotly, and Fleur stepped toward him, worried he might set the basement on fire.
“That’s not what I meant. A dragon is something from myth and legend. Unlike a bear shifter or a lion or tiger, they cannot hide in plain view.” George clenched his back teeth as he added, “We’re trying to figure out how to keep them all safe.”
“I understand. My mother never told me about my heritage because she wanted to keep me safe. And if what happened to me is any indication then she did the right thing. Although it was not enough. But this new generation of dragons can learn from me.” He gave a sardonic grin. “Never trust anyone with your treasure.”
; “Except other dragons,” Fleur added. “Because there must be some code between yourselves, surely.”
George laughed. “Yes, touch another dragon’s treasure at your peril. They’ll snap your hand off or singe your hair if their hoard is touched without permission.”
“So dragons are hot-tempered?” Fleur asked.
And scorching hot in other departments, her bear added.
Fleur’s cheeks flushed pink at the thought of her own scorching hot dragon. The touch of his hands, the feel of his lips on hers. The way their bodies molded together as if they were made for each other.
“All dragons have a hot temper from what I’ve seen,” George admitted, giving Doran a sidelong glance. “But they are also cool-headed. They only unleash their temper when absolutely necessary.”
George stared thoughtfully at Doran for a few moments and Fleur watched him closely. The historian was mulling something over and she held her breath, hoping he would have an idea, any idea that might help break down the barrier between Doran and his dragon.
But then he snapped out of it and went to the desk where he picked up a small leather-bound book and opened it up. He ran his finger down the page before handing it to Doran.
“Yolanda Rothmore. She lived in Woodacre for the rest of her life and then her son, Teddy Rothmore, took over possession of the land and cottage.” Doran accepted another document from George. Dipping his head, he read the entry George pointed to. “Yolanda’s will. The ownership of Woodacre should pass to the first born Rothmore son and must never be sold.”
“Yes. Which is where you two should be investigating.” George took out his smartphone and tapped the screen, the modern gadget seeming out of place here among the books and papers scrawled with ink. “According to the deeds, Edith Rothmore still owns the land. However, she has no next of kin. So I would go and visit her and see why, or how, this Mr. Devizes is selling it.”
“You think he might be defrauding her?” Fleur wanted to meet Edith and this was the perfect reason to contact her. While checking up on the rights for Mr. Devizes to sell the land, they could also try to figure out whether the land wasn’t the only thing passed down through the generations. Maybe the cure for the binding spell was passed down, too.
“I have no idea. But the covenant on Woodacre has remained intact for centuries. Why has it suddenly been broken?” George queried, more to himself than to Fleur and Doran as he rifled through more papers on his desk. “Here.”
Doran and Fleur crowded around George as he held out a large piece of dry parchment. “This is the deed of title from when the land was first sold. It bears the name Lorca Halberd.”
“My father?” Doran touched the parchment with reverence. This was the first direct link George had shown them to Doran’s father among all the books and documents in the museum’s care. Was it possible there was more hidden here, just waiting to be unearthed?
“Could we come back again and look through the archives?” Fleur asked as Doran fell silent.
“Yes. I’d need to get clearance from the curator, but I don’t think that would be a problem.” He gave a short laugh. “I would appreciate some help in my dragon hunting.”
“Dragon hunting.” Doran lifted his head and became laser focused. “Has your search ever unearthed a dragon slayer?”
“Not as such. They seem to be as much part of myth as the dragons themselves.” He turned to Fleur. “You have seen dragons. They look pretty unbeatable to me.”
“They do. At least they would have been hundreds of years ago before modern weapons.” She nodded in agreement.
“So I accept a dragon slayer might get off a lucky shot, or that a dragon could be killed in battle against an army. But the thought that one man could purposely kill a dragon doesn’t sit right.” George shrugged. “But that might be where the spells come into play. The best way to kill a dragon would be to bind it to its human first and then kill the human.”
“So why didn’t Edric do that to Doran? Why put him in Ancient Slumber instead?” Fleur asked.
“That we might never know.” George glanced at Doran. “Unless you remember?”
“Edric saw himself as a man of honor. He swore to my mother he would help protect me. Putting me to sleep under the ruse of a dragon slayer hunting me down would fulfill that promise. But binding my dragon and murdering me in cold blood would have broken it.” Doran’s eyes flashed in anger and his fists clenched by his sides. “Plus, I was always a much better fighter than Edric. He knew he could not best me in a fair fight and his honor would never have allowed him to stab me in the back.”
Fleur slipped her arm around Doran’s waist and leaned on his shoulder, fighting back the tears that threatened. She didn’t want to cry here in front of Doran and George and yet her heart broke into a million pieces at the loyalty Doran held for the brother who had betrayed him.
As she absorbed his warmth, she radiated love out to this man who was hers. With or without his dragon, Doran was the man for her. The man who would support her through life.
Just as we will support him, her bear finished.
Just as we will support him. But right now, we have to find Edith Rothmore and figure out what’s going on.
This was Doran’s opportunity to secure Woodacre as his own if she was planning on selling. Fleur’s only worry was that the elderly lady might be experiencing health issues or dementia and have signed a power of attorney over to Mr. Devizes.
As they left the museum, Fleur was certain they were about to unearth secrets about both the present and the past.
Chapter Nineteen – Doran
“We are nearly there.” Doran peered closely at the gadget on Fleur’s dashboard which spoke to them, telling them which direction to take and which street to drive down. It was a fearsome contraption that spoke abruptly if not obeyed.
“We should get you a driver’s license.” Fleur glanced across at him as he shook his head. He did not yet trust technology. He certainly did not trust these horseless carriages. Or more precisely, the other horseless carriages on the road.
“I am thinking of buying a tractor instead.”
Fleur burst out laughing. “A tractor?”
“I have always worked on the land. And since I need something to do in this new world I have awoken in, I thought I might buy some land and farm it.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “With your father.”
Fleur’s hands shook and the car swerved on the road, confirming his belief that cars were not safe. “So that’s what you two have been cooking up.”
Doran frowned. “We have not been cooking anything. I don’t think your mom would allow me in the kitchen.”
Fleur giggled. “No, I don’t think she would.”
“In truth, I have not asked your father. I thought I would run the idea past you first.” Doran stared at the road ahead. “I think your father likes me. But going into business with another is a big decision.”
“He does like you.” Fleur’s voice wavered. “And he’s always loved working the land, growing our own vegetables and fruit. But he’s never had the money to move on and farm, not when he had us kids to raise. Thank you, Doran.”
His lips twitched. “I can’t believe I’m going to part with so much of my treasure.”
“What’s the use of having all that gold and silver if you never use it?” The GPS ordered Fleur to turn right and she threaded the steering wheel through her hands as she obeyed. “It should work for you. Invest it and make a new fortune.”
“I would like to build an empire for our children to inherit. I want to teach them the worth of gold and silver. But you are right, treasure should not be hoarded.” Doran surprised himself at how easy this decision had been. Perhaps it was because his dragon was fragmented, no longer the other half of him.
“And perhaps you could find some pieces to loan to the museum since George and the museum archives are what led us here.”
“That’s a good idea.” He searched inwardly for his drago
n’s reaction, but there was nothing. The binding spell went further than stopping Doran from shifting into his dragon, it cut off their connection almost entirely. His dragon was still there, he could sense him fighting to be free, but their mental and physical connection was all but severed.
“This is it.” She stopped the car in front of a rose-covered cottage. Although the garden was rich with blooms, it looked as if it needed a good clean-up. “My dad would love to get his hands on this garden. Maybe Edith’s health is failing, and she needs the money from the sale of the land to fund her health care.”
“Then I will make her an offer she cannot refuse,” Doran said firmly.
“She still isn’t allowed to sell the land. But let’s go and knock on the door and start figuring out what’s going on.” Fleur unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door. With a quick glance at Doran, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and stretched her cramped muscles.
For a moment, Doran could do nothing but stare at his mate. She was perfect in every way. When he’d first learned he’d been asleep for centuries, he’d been angry. Angry he’d slept away so much time, so much of his old life. But now, with his mate by his side, he would not change a thing.
In his mind, he forgave Edric. It was the only way he could walk into the house of Edric’s mate’s direct descendant and not let his anger erupt into wrath.
“I will let you do the talking.” Doran walked around the car and stood next to his mate. “You are the better negotiator.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me.” She slipped her hand into his. “But this is about you and your family. So don’t keep quiet if there is something you need to add.”
“Agreed.” They both looked up as the front door opened and a man came out of the house.
Fleur pushed Doran sideways, so they were no longer standing at the end of the stone path leading to the house. Sliding her arms around his neck, she kissed him, her body pressed close as their lips met.
Hidden Dragon Page 13