Lucien: Dragofin Mated: Book 2 (Dragonfin Clan Mated)

by Mychal Daniels

  Lucien pushed back a snippet of envy that always tried to claim him when seeing his brother use this rare and precious Dragon ability. Family first and brother’s keeper were the mantras of his family. There was nothing that would ever entice him to cultivate thoughts of envy or jealousy for what any of his brothers could do. He had his own special and rare gifts that he’d been and would continue to be content with.

  As second oldest of the Dragon brothers, Ivan Drake was more mature and able to do a lot to protect the portal like Lucien. Also like Lucien, he was large and very dominant. So dominant and alpha driven were Luc and Ivan, the two had agreed a long time ago that Ivan didn’t have to live at the Lair. The brothers didn’t fight or have disagreements. Instead, they were close and seemed to understand each other better than most. It might have helped that Ivan’s temperament was a complement to Lucien’s. Where Lucien could be intense and broody, Ivan was laid back and calm.

  Being a lone Dragon in a lot of ways, Ivan did his own thing, venturing off to other places. Lucien gave him free rein to explore without much need for check-ins. There was one trait about him that Lucien admired—his loyalty and honor to the calling. Whenever it was time to fulfill his duty as a Guardian either on the surface of Earth or in Inner Earth, he could be counted on. No matter where he might be, Ivan always made it to fulfill his duty.

  Both Lucien and Greg watched as Ivan eviscerated the vessel with a slash of his mighty tail and direct stream of fire. Where he might be calm off the battlefield, Ivan more than made up for it on it. Lucien smiled, proud of his brother’s power and might. Nothing else appeared to be making an attempt to come through the portal.

  Even Warrior Guardians had paperwork and politics to contend with. After Lucien had received the all clear from Central command station and permission to leave from the Dragon and Gryphon governing Clans of the Council of Elders, he and the others set out to head home.

  Both Lucien and his Dragon were tired, short on patience and ready to go down to the bottom floors, deep beneath the ground level of the Lair for a long sleep. As soon as he got back and made sure Jax and Hildy hadn’t managed to tear anything up, he’d most likely enter into a deep sleep for a few weeks. Yes, it was going to be good to get back, relax and rest up.

  5

  Quinn Bradford… Ms. Connie’s Diner, Atlanta, GA Industrial & Warehouse district—Westend

  “Quinny, come back.”

  With her mind was made up, it was a do it now or never situation. Making it past the counter full of customers, Quinn rounded the corner to see another side of the Diner, full of booths. Once she spotted the back of Craig’s head engrossed in a menu, she stomped over to where he and the incredibly beautiful woman sat.

  “Craig… Craig.” She waited, allowing his mind time to catch up with her voice and presence. The woman looked up from her menu first, giving Quinn a once over. From her expression, Quinn knew she wasn’t impressed.

  The woman spoke to him with a voice that was robust, firm and yet still feminine, “Craig, looks like someone here knows you.”

  “Hmm?” he asked, still looking at the menu.

  Leave it to him to still be too narrow-sighted to see or do anything more than what he was currently focused on. Good thing his looks made up for his lax attention span. That man was never able to do more than one thing at a time. Or so he’d led her to believe. For all she knew, it could be an elaborate ruse he did to keep her off guard.

  “Look up darling, we have company.” The woman purred with a voice dripping in cultured tone. She flashed keen, large eyes that missed nothing at Quinn with greater interest.

  Quinn stood her ground, doubling down on her focus on Craig. This hussy wouldn’t intimidate her. Instead, she tried not to admire the fresh haircut he wore or the expensive cologne that wafted up to her. Close enough to reach out and touch him again, her hands balled into a tight fist.

  Don’t do it.

  Old habits pinged her automatic responses. Balled fists couldn’t run fingers through his perfect hair. She missed this—the smell of testosterone. Leaning in to get a better sniff of him, Quinn didn’t know if she wanted to lick the corner of his full mouth or slap the shit out of him. Confusion born of anger and lust condemned her like a love-sick ninny. Wren was absolutely right. She lost her shit around him. But damn it if he wasn’t even sexier now.

  Stop it—he used you.

  Quinn watched, as if in slow motion, as Craig looked up from his menu and at her. The joy she thought she’d feel at seeing the surprise in his eyes dashed off when he looked up with obvious disgust instead. What the hell? He was supposed to be caught off guard. This was meant to be one of the moments where she was like the top-bitch who won this scene totally wrecking him. Not this shitty face he was giving her.

  “What do you want?” he asked, almost wrinkling up his nose.

  I want to slap the fucking taste out your mouth.

  Instead, she stammered like a star-struck Goober. “I… I saw you come in and wanted to come over and see if I could speak to you for a sec.”

  In spite of all her business deal posturing training and reading that damn Lean In book, Quinn took a step back. She hoped to God that Wren was behind her. The added support would help her form her next words. Both he and that woman looked at her like she was intruding on their right to have a quiet meal was an indignity.

  Wren wasn’t behind her—shit. The guy passing behind her on his way to the toilet confirmed that. She was here on her own… alone. Determined to stay the course, she spoke up, putting a little base in her voice.

  “Craig, instead of meeting later today, now is as good a time as any. It will only take a few minutes, and then we can be done.”

  “Is that so?” He put the menu down and looked over at the woman sitting across from him.

  She gave him a sly smile and then nodded as they communicated in silence in front of Quinn. Good thing there was a dull butter knife on the table, else, each of them would have gotten cut. Not really, but it was the thought that counted. Quinn could take solace, wallow, and bask in the comfort it gave her.

  If that silent talk look between them was a psychological tactic on his part, it was working. All impulses to flee were fully engaged. Trembles wracked her body, but Quinn stood her ground. A sense of hopeless self-loathing was the only thing that kept her rooted to the spot. They were mocking her like she was the odd one out on some cool joke reserved exclusively for them.

  What she wouldn’t give for a fine-ass guy to come to her rescue. That was never going to happen, but the thought helped her reframe the situation. This wasn’t about him or missing a man in her life. This was about getting her money.

  “Yes. We can do it here or step outside if you prefer.”

  “Huh?”

  His answer caught her off guard. What was it with that “we” shit?

  The smile he wore looked more like devilment about to commence than kindness. She’d be on alert. They wanted to gang up on her—like an intimidation tactic.

  Get your money—you need to eat and have a roof over your head. Forget about him and this chick. Get. Your. Money.

  Again he shared a look with the woman. It was unnerving. Quinn wasn’t about to back down. She’d thrown down the gauntlet. The game had begun.

  Not a punk—not going to punk out now.

  “Sure thing.” He stood, coming close to Quinn. Then he brushed her aside with his chest, as he turned to give the woman a hand as she stood too. “Let’s take this outside, shall we?”

  “I thought it would be best if we spoke privately,” Quinn said, dread sinking into the pit of her stomach. There was no way she wanted this chick in her business. There might be pleading on her part, and that wasn’t something she wanted to do in front of Ms. Rodeo Drive here.

  “If you insist on interrupting our lunch, it only seems fair that we both entertain your request. Isn’t that right babe?” he asked the woman, who towered over Quinn. They both did.

  Quinn felt
that fear that comes when you know the odds are stacked against you. Still, she didn’t budge. She also valued the lessons she’d learned taking a Texas Hold ‘Em poker strategy class for women a few years back. No matter how much intimidation or flexing of muscle paraded in front of her, there would be no revealing her reactions or emotions.

  “All right then. Let’s go.” She was proud of how strong and firm her voice sounded.

  “After you then,” he said, allowing the woman to move in front of him. This wasn’t before Quinn had a chance to see how intimately he brushed the inside of the woman’s arm with his, in a lingering caress. Then to Quinn, he said, “Lead the way.”

  Once they rounded the corner and were back in the front of the Diner, Quinn spotted Wren settling the check and grabbing their coats. A mixture of relief and anger pinged her at seeing her friend worry over the bill instead of having her back. Once she had Wren’s attention, she motioned with her head to come outside.

  Reaching the door, Quinn stopped to wait for Wren to catch up.

  The woman spoke to her from behind where she stood at the entrance. “Are you going to stand there or go out? You’re taking up our lunch hour here. Get on with this or let us go back to lunch, will you?”

  To say Quinn’s spit could rival acid, was an understatement. Immediate and intense was the dislike she felt for this intruder. Their conversation had nothing to do with this woman. She was inserting herself into Quinn’s business, and that had to stop. Quinn refused to move. She wouldn’t be bullied, not today.

  “You’re free to have your lunch. This matter is between Craig and I. He won’t be long, as long as I get what I came for.”

  The puffs of hot air on the back of her neck from the woman might as well be sweet winds of Quinn’s little victory. Good, she could wait. Served her right for butting in where she didn’t belong.

  “I’m ready,” Wren said, approaching and handing Quinn her jacket. “Are they leaving too?” Wren turned to look at Craig and the woman.

  “No, Craig and…” Quinn stumbled with how to address the tall female who stood way too close to her. Craig had yet to introduce them. Figured. Unable to come up with something that didn’t involve an insult, she settled on emission. “Is joining us outside for a quick chat about my money.”

  Amazing how much boldness infused Quinn’s words as they popped and sizzled over that phrase, “my money.” With Wren here to have her back, Quinn rode the boost to gain her bravado back. Friend backup was her pump-up juice. Time to do this.

  Quinn turned to face the woman who was still on her heels and gave her a look to rival the best shade. “Little Miss, either back up off me or just admit how much you’re into my beautiful ass. This close on me says you like girl ass.” She looked past the woman and said to Craig, “So, you’re into bi-girls now?” Yeah, she was back to talking shit like nobody’s business.

  The woman began to respond as she took a step back. No never mind, because Quinn was already locked and loaded with a comeback if she tried it. If her hair weren’t in its “I have to be free” natural state, Quinn would have given a hair flip to rival the best sorority girl. Her hair had a mind of its own that couldn’t be trusted to behave as expected, and this chick liked like she could be a hair puller. That and the chick had her by at least a half foot in height.

  Seeing the beginning of Quinn’s next move before it could start, Wren stepped between the two women. Ever the diplomat, Wren beat her to the punch and spoke up.

  “Okay… let’s go.” Wren eyed the woman with a stern look of warning. That was Quinn’s girl, a ride-or-die friend. She might not be savvy when it came to all things men, but Quinn could always count on her to have her back. Even in a fight, swinging, slapping and clawing with the best of them if needed, Wren could be counted on. They were both short, and Wren was quiet, but neither was a runner. Quinn’s mouth had been the start of many fights back in the day. Wren had been helping Quinn win fights since they were children. It looked like their running streak wouldn’t end today either.

  The woman visibly backed down.

  Quinn couldn’t resist. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She bounded out the door, fueled by more confidence to carry this out. In front of his girlfriend or not, she didn’t care. Today she’d get her money. Else, Quinn would make sure Craig knew she was pressing charges against him immediately. One way or another, she’d leave with the money or his ass in a noose.

  6

  Quinn…

  “We’re out here. Quinn, what do you want?” Craig asked, looking bored and put upon.

  “You know what I want—my money back. Not only do you owe me for the loan I made to you, you owe me for the fifteen thousand dollars you stole out of my business account.”

  His smile was wide and patronizing. “See Quinn, I knew you’d try to forget about that. I don’t owe you anything. You forfeited that loan.”

  “Whoa—I never did any such thing,” she said, incredulous at his audacity.

  “Yes, you did, and as for any money, you said I stole from you? That’s untrue, I received a fair compensation for working in that company that you invested in. That money was payment for my services. You authorized the disbursements yourself. I have the bank papers authorizing me as a user of that account to prove it.”

  “The lies you tell!” Disbelief at his blatant lies had her reeling. “I didn’t forgive any loan and I sure as hell never had you as an employee of my company.”

  “Prove it. It’s word against word. Any court would laugh you out of it for such a weak-ass case, but I will say you’re partially correct. True, I wasn’t an employee of your company, but I was a contractor for the sports apparel company you angel invested into. As per our verbal agreement, you agreed to seed money into the venture and provide support for it. That support was in the form of five disbursements of five thousand dollars each. So in all honesty, you still owe me ten thousand dollars. You breached our verbal agreement when you failed to pay those last two disbursements. That nullified our agreement and business association.”

  “What? You can’t be for real? I never agreed to any of that?”

  “Are you sure about that? Then how did I gain access to the second business account then? You set it up expressly for this venture, did you not?”

  “No, I set it up to separate payroll out from the general business account for my company. I put you on the account as a placeholder officer—you thieving piece of shit.”

  “There, that’s it right there. The fact that you gave me authorization to access the account and the funds showed your intent. When you reneged on the agreement to pay me, our business dealings dissolved. I owe you nothing, Quinn. Have fun trying to prove otherwise to anyone who’ll listen.”

  “But what about her investment into your sports apparel company? She still has a right to get that back,” Wren asked, stepping in to help keep Quinn standing upright and strong.

  “When she failed to pay those remaining disbursements, I wasn’t able to pay the suppliers for materials and work. The company folded. As an investor, she knew the risk before hand. So you see, I don’t owe her anything. It’s her fault the company didn’t make it. She said she’d supply the funds and I’d do the labor. With no funds to keep it going, I couldn’t keep laboring,” Craig said, looking at Quinn with a shit-eating grin. “Quinn, I know in your mind you think you have some right to get that loss back. But that’s all it is—a business loss. Write it off and move on. I have.”

  “I never said any of that. You asked for twenty-five thousand dollars to help you with your business for a year. All this—I never…” She turned to look at her friend for help, support, or even a hidden pistol to shoot Craig’s lying ass. “Wren, these are lies, these are all lies.”

  Wren’s eyes were moist with emotion as she offered Quinn loving support. “I know Quinny. That’s why I didn’t want you to confront him like this. Now you see, don’t you?”

  Scales of deception fell off Quinn’s perception as she look
ed back over to Craig. Instead of the man she thought hung the moon, standing before her was a charlatan and his partner. That woman must have been in on this all along. Her smug look was all the confirmation Quinn needed. Hell, they were probably having lunch off the money he’d stolen from her.

  Sensation left Quinn’s body as Craig’s words settled in. He was a con man and Wren had nailed him from the start. Quinn’s sophistication and experience dealing with men failed her. Wren was able to see what he was about from the beginning, even with her lack of experience with the opposite sex. Truth nailed her to the spot. Quinn was never getting her money back from him. Instead or roaring at him, the sucker punch of his crooked reasoning had side swiped her gusto.

  The words were feeble in power as she said, “I never agreed to bankroll your business. You used me and stole my money.” All the pain, anger and fear that had robbed her of too many sleepless nights to count, buoyed up and out of her. Before she could comprehend her actions, Quinn was on Craig. Her arms flailing as Quinn assaulted him with pitiful slaps and punches. Wren’s voice sounded far away, as Quinn continued to release her fury.

  He grabbed her hands, holding them together. “Quinn, stop it. Violence is not how you need to work through this. You made some bad decisions. Take the lesson and learn from it.”

  “All I learned was how much of a slime ball you are!”

  “My patience grows thin. Stop it with your name-calling and telling whoever will listen that I stole from you. You made a business decision that didn’t work out. And, if you keep telling people I stole from you, I’ll sue for slander. Keep on and I’ll take everything you have and anything you get for the foreseeable future.”

  He released her, almost pushing her back into Wren. She watched in stunned horror as he turned his back on her to rejoin that clearly smiling woman. It was too much to take. Out of her helplessness and frustration, she did something she wasn’t proud of.