The Detective's Dragon

by Karilyn Bentley

  “Everyone should know that we are Draconi. It generates respect.”

  Parker raised a brow like she thought them addled. Which they weren’t. At least not on this matter.

  “All right. Then what do you suggest?”

  “What we usually do.” Erik crossed his arms.

  “Go in and ask around. Find out what the townsfolk know.”

  “Tell me again why you can’t just use your ability to hone in on the Halfling’s location?”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” Although he’d give half his rubies to be able to find people that quickly. “I can only get close. In this case, I can feel that there is a Halfling inside, but can’t tell you the exact place.”

  “Do you feel closer to one area than another?”

  “No. Just inside.” And the young one’s energy field felt odd, like it split into two different fields.

  “What’s wrong?” Parker touched his arm. “You look puzzled.”

  “He’s just thinking.” Erik shrugged.

  “The energy field is different for the Halfling. Split in two.”

  “That makes no sense.” Erik’s eyes narrowed. “It’s probably just the wall. It’s throwing us off and making us worry about nothing. Let’s get on with it.”

  “Should we split up?”

  Jamie shook his head at Parker. “We are supposed to stay together.”

  “Fine. Lead on.”

  Once they walked through the village gates, past the guards who waved them inside, a cold prickle of caution raised the hair on his nape. The usual brisk bustle of a market village remained in direct opposition to the unwelcoming stares and fear darting in the depths of the merchants’ eyes.

  Fear? Perhaps they had been attacked. Perhaps the market drew a bigger business than he thought and as such attracted raiders and thieves. Or they hated others different from them, much like River’s Run, the town where he lived with Keara before coming to Draconia.

  Jamie shook the prickle away. Or was it a memory?

  “I don’t like this place,” Parker whispered.

  He nodded, reaching out to give her hand a quick squeeze and release.

  Erik led them to the main market, a stone lined street with small wooden booths displaying merchants’ goods. No sign of the Halfling. No sense of where the youngster was either.

  Why would a gift from the Goddess let him get close, but not allow him to pinpoint the exact location of a person? Jewels he understood. To have a gift where one could amass large amounts of treasure with little effort would lead to greed. But what would be the harm in finding people with a thought, with ease, especially abandoned Halflings?

  Erik stopped at the first booth on the right. “We’re looking for a red-haired child. Have you seen one?”

  The merchant’s eyes flared as his gaze darted between the three of them then to either side. He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have. Could I interest you in spices from the Southlands? No?” His small eyes performed another sweep to the left and right as he leaned forward. “Three stalls down. They might know something, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  Jamie reached into his purse hanging around his waist and flipped a coin to the merchant. The man caught it and slipped it into his own purse, his gaze moving to the crowded street.

  Why didn’t he want to tell them the youngster’s location? Who could overhear and care? Most villagers treated their bastard children like outcasts and were eager to give them away. Which was why they never needed disguises. Let all know they were Draconi coming to collect their own.

  As Erik said, it generated respect, not to mention a bit of awe and a touch of fear.

  A respectful kind of fear. Not the fright wafting through the air of the village like the stench of malfunctioning sewers.

  A lady sat on a tall stool behind the counter of the third booth, the voluminous folds of her dress hanging in mounds around her feet. Cloths of different fabrics, textures and colors spread across the counter like plumes from a bird. Blue eyes topping flushed cheeks narrowed at their approach.

  “Cloths?”

  “We’re looking for a red-haired child—”

  “Didn’t think you wanted no cloths. You ain’t dressed the type.”

  Parker gave him a sideways glance, a look of I-told-you-so making a run across her face.

  “Have you seen the child?”

  “Rumors, rumors. You should leave ’em be and scat.” She leaned forward. “You ain’t wantin’ to stick around. Don’t care who you think you are. You ain’t wantin’ the man to see you here.”

  “We’ll leave once we have the child.” Parker placed both hands on the counter and leaned forward, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Tell us where he is so we can avoid the man.”

  The merchant swallowed. She whispered something into Parker’s ear, her words a low murmur even his sensitive hearing couldn’t understand. Parker nodded, thanked the woman, met Jamie’s gaze and jerked her head in the direction of the gates. After a quick touch on his arm, she turned and dodged her way through the crowd.

  Jamie glanced at Erik’s wide eyes as he started to follow Parker, who darted around buyers congregating like chattering birds. Where was she going? What did the merchant say? Parker ducked into an alley, disappearing from view.

  A quick thud of his heart sped up his breath as a loud group of people walked between him and the last place he saw Parker. He shoved through the group, ignored their voiced complaints and turned into the alley, Erik following.

  Parker stood at the end of the alley, a slow turn of her head indicating she looked for something. But what?

  “Don’t rush off like that.” He stalked toward her, fear and relief mixing his tone into a low rumble.

  “You were right behind me.” She gestured at the brick wall to the left, while he tried to stop inhaling air like a dragon about to spit a fireball. “Third door on the left. Did I miss one? There’re only two.”

  Doors? Doors? “I’m serious. Don’t run off like that.”

  Parker turned to face him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Of course she didn’t. But what if something happened before he got to her? What if she was harmed? He released his clenched fists and got busy sucking in air. No sense in letting fear morph into anger.

  “I know. But I don’t like thinking something bad might happen to you.”

  “I’ll wait for you next time, all right?”

  “Thank you.” He stepped next to her, showing with a touch on her hand all was forgiven.

  “How sweet.” Erik stepped beside Jamie, shaking his head. “Kiss and make up, will you, so we can continue on our mission.”

  Jamie glared at Erik until the tips of his friend’s ears turned red and he dropped his gaze. Enough was enough.

  Parker cleared her throat. “The merchant said second alley and third door on the left and that’s where we’d find the children. Did you know there are more than one?”

  Jamie blinked as Erik’s eyes flared. “There’s another Halfling?” If so, it would explain the strange split energy he felt when trying to find the Halfling’s location.

  “She didn’t use that term. She said the children we wanted were here. But I don’t see the door.” She turned to the brick wall. “One door.” She pointed at the door. “Two doors.” Another point. “Big stretch of…” Her brow furrowed and she walked closer to the wall, running her hand over it. “Oh.”

  Oh was right. Instead of the wooden panels demarking a door, someone had painted bricks across the wood, blending the door into the wall. Upon first glance the door was indistinguishable from the wall.

  Clever trick.

  “Should we go in?”

  Erik stepped forward. “I’ll go first. Close the door behind you.” Grabbing the doorknob, he twisted and shoved. Hinges squeaked, silenced by a murmured spell. Erik stepped into the dim light.

  Parker glanced at Jamie. “Ready?”

  He placed a hand on her lower back, encouragin
g her forward. “You first.”

  “Don’t let go of me.” A corner of her mouth kicked up. “You want to work magic if need be.”

  “Maybe I just want to touch you.” He whispered in her ear, giving her a peck on the cheek. Definitely wanted to touch her. More than touch her. Cover her body with his. Mark her as his for all to see.

  Bloody mission.

  Upon which he needed to focus.

  “Maybe I want to touch you too.” Parker placed her hand against his face. “But now isn’t the time.”

  “After you, my mate.”

  She stepped through the door, and Jamie pulled it closed behind him, the thud of wood against brick a finality that sent a shudder down his spine.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dim light filtered from an inner door, enough light to make out shapes, but not much else. Parker swallowed. Dark didn’t bother her, but stepping into the unknown did. And this definitely qualified as unknown. Strange country. Strange town. Strange door in the wall leading to a strange room.

  Warmth spread from where Jamie’s hand rested against her shoulder. Close to her titanium screw. Close to her heart.

  Would she be able to leave him at the end of this mission? Would she be able to return home, to return to a job she loved, to a life consumed by her work?

  Would she be happier in a land where the residents thought her odd for her humanity, but where she found a man she could love?

  Could love? More like did love. Oh my gosh, did I actually use the word love? Yep. Definitely pulled out the L word and threw it at a guy. Not just any guy. Jamie.

  She glanced at her shoulder where the heat from his palm soaked into her skin. Who would’ve thought she’d ever fall in love again?

  A crash sounded, shaking the ceiling, as if a heavy object fell in a room above them. Parker jumped. So much for love thoughts. She needed to concentrate on where she was and what was going on, not daydream about Jamie.

  Damn it.

  Erik reached the door, light shining around the frame, and plastered himself against the wall. Parker mirrored his position, Jamie tucking in behind her. Erik cracked open the door, stuck his head out, then slipped through the opening.

  Breath rasped through her lungs as her hand slapped against her hip. Damn it. When would she learn? No Glock. No weapon. Nothing but her wits.

  And Jamie. Who, as long as he touched her, could count as a weapon.

  See, Parker? Safer than you thought.

  Tension wove through her muscles as she reached for the door, the same tension twisting her gut whenever she worked a case. Before she darted through the opening, Jamie squeezed her shoulder.

  “Let me go first.”

  For once a man’s protective streak didn’t bother her. Jamie cared about her safety. Unlike other men who only cared about their pride.

  She nodded, and Jamie slipped through the door. Taking a breath, she started to follow when shouts erupted on the other side of the door. Grunts followed by two thuds. A body slammed against the door, swinging it open. Which she managed to avoid by a quick jerk of her head. Air rushed past her face from the slammed-open door, and she scrambled further into the shadows to avoid being hit. Not to mention remaining concealed.

  The door bounced off the wall as she scurried into the nearest corner. Rough stone pressed against her back as she squatted against the wall, hoping the shadows buried her in darkness, her breath a ragged series of gasps.

  Was Jamie okay? How bad was he hurt? Why the hell did she not insist on a weapon? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  “Check and make sure no one else is there.” A high-pitched male voice oozed through the room.

  “These are Draconi. They come in pairs. Always pairs.” Another male voice, this one low and raspy, like a long-time smoker.

  One of the men grabbed the half-open door and pulled it shut. Footsteps grew softer, their voices disappearing. Did they leave Erik and Jamie where they fell? What caused two magical beings to drop like a hammer? The real question was how the hell was she going to rescue them?

  Cowering in the corner like a sissy got her nowhere.

  Move, Parker. Now.

  Heart pounding, she rose, plastering herself against the wall as she eased toward the closed door. A deep inhale and she darted to the other side of the door, back against the wall. The knob chilled her palm as she twisted it, cracking the door enough to see into a brightly lit room.

  Parker blinked until her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Jamie lay in front of the door, Erik several feet away. No sign of the men. Or the Halfling. Not that she could see far. The only sounds coming from the room were the soft snores of Jamie and Erik, as if they had fallen asleep. At least there wasn’t blood.

  So what felled them?

  Parker opened the door wider, poking her head out, eyes searching for the men. No strange men. Just the two she came with. She darted through the door and dropped to her knees, her fingers finding the steady pulse in Jamie’s neck. Her breath released on a welcome sigh. Steady. Alive. No blood.

  What knocked him out?

  She stepped over Jamie, knelt by Erik. Same steady pulse, but her fingers knocked loose a small stick in the side of his neck. What the hell?

  Muffled cries echoed down the stairs, snapping her attention to the sound. Stairs ran down the right side of the room, wooden slats allowing a clear view of the steps. No one hiding. Where were the men? Upstairs? Outside?

  Parker glanced around the room. What to use as a weapon. The lamp? How clichéd. She darted to the side table that held the lamp, her gaze cutting to the stairs. What kind of a lamp was this? It looked more like a kerosene lantern. She picked it up. Make that a full kerosene lantern.

  Not happening. What else?

  Her gaze landed on the fireplace, a poker leaning against the hearth.

  It’s the butler in the living room with a poker.

  Right. Nothing else in the almost bare room lent itself to weapon qualities. She lifted the poker, twisting it in her hands. Yep, it would work.

  A quick glance showed no one on the stairs, but the murmured cries meant someone was in the house. Who? Jamie and Erik remained still, their deep breathing the only indication they lived. Damn it. She could use a little help. If only she had her Glock.

  Too damn bad, Parker. Deal with the poker.

  Taking a breath, she started for the stairs, the metal of the iron poker rough against her hands. At least she could swing it, unlike the lantern.

  Brandishing the poker like a bat, she started up the stairs, trying to tread with no noise. Her heart pounded an uneven beat in her chest. Two steps gone. Four steps. Two more left.

  Squeak!

  Parker froze as the noise echoed, quieting the muffled cries to small hiccups of fright. Nothing moved. She released her held breath, avoided the squeaking stair and stepped onto the landing.

  Light streamed from a window set over the stairs, illuminating the landing in an airy brightness. Shadows populated corners with a chill damp. A shiver shot down her spine. Her grip tightened on the poker.

  Doors marched down the hallway running off the landing, sentries of impending doom. Parker glanced over her shoulder. No one coming up the stairs. She turned. Nothing but a door behind her. A deep breath in. Should she check the door or head toward the childlike sniffles coming from the hallway?

  Free the children. Provided the sniffles belonged to kids.

  She swallowed. Another glance at the door. Still shut. Sweat dampened under her arms, pooling in her bra. She stepped forward, coming down on her heel, slowing the shift to the ball of her foot. Another step. Followed by another. She exhaled in relief when she made it to the door. The locked door.

  At least the lock wasn’t keyed. A simple latch, but it kept the victims inside. Her quick glance up and down the hallway showed nothing but light and shadows. She lowered the poker and slipped the latch unlocked. A turn of the knob and the door swung silently open.

  Anger chased away fear as she peered into the
dim room. A covered window gave little light, but let in enough for her to see two children tied with ankle chains to a bed. Thin, with stringy red hair and brown rags for clothes, they shrank from her, as far as the chain would allow.

  The iron poker cut into her palm. Energy beat through her veins, energy she normally tried to suppress, energy she now wished to throw like an explosion on the men who chained these children like livestock.

  She hated working children cases. Hated it. Give her an armed robbery gone bad over crimes against children any day.

  Heat washed through her as she walked toward the children, holding out a hand. “It’s all right. I’m going to help you.”

  Halfway to the bed, the children’s eyes stopped focusing on her and darted to the space between her and the door. A whoosh of air swept past her ear. She ducked, bringing the poker up to deflect the hit.

  A medium-sized man dressed in a decorated red tunic swung another sucker punch. Easy to block. Thank god for martial arts training. The wave of energy beat harder inside her chest, wanting to escape, wanting to harm. Instead of hiding the power, she released it as a concentrated beam right at her attacker.

  He flew straight up as if attached to guidelines, slamming into the ceiling before crashing to the floor.

  Parker blinked, her heart a racing drum behind her ribs, her muscles trembling with adrenaline. Since when did her energy rush cause a person to take flight? Exploding light bulbs, sure, but flying people? Interesting.

  And no time to ponder. She needed to get the kids out before the other man came or the downed one woke.

  Two pairs of wide eyes watched her careful approach. Thank goodness they no longer shrank from her.

  “It’s all right. Let me see. Do these need a key?” Her fingers ran around the edge of the shackle. Yep. Needed a key.

  “He carries it.” The boy pointed toward behind her, and Parker twisted around.

  Whew. No new man. Clearly the boy meant the unconscious creep.

  Parker darted to the downed man. She patted along the front of his tunic and down the sides of his legs. Cool metal met her questing fingers on his right side. A quick tug pulled the key free from where it hung on his belt.