Celtic Dragons

by Dee Bridgnorth

  “What does that mean?” Grady asked, not giving her much of anything to go off as he looked at her calmly. This must be why he was good at his job—he could handle revelations without reacting until it was in his best interest. Moira didn’t share that particular skill, most of the time.

  “It means that people like me can only reproduce with …other people like me.”

  The elevator door opened and their conversation once again paused as Grady’s entrance onto the first floor caused several people milling around to come running up to him to express how glad they were that he was okay and how horrified they were that someone might have targeted him.

  Moira admired how gracefully Grady handled each one, though it amused her that he had displayed none of that natural charm when meeting her for the first time. If he had, perhaps they would have ended up in bed together far sooner.

  Or maybe he had been charming and she had just not wanted to see it.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her arm and speaking low in her ear. “We need to get out of here before someone else comes over.”

  He led her outside, and they got into his car after doing a quick check beneath for any kind of explosive device. It wasn’t until he was on the road, headed toward the hotel that he brought up the subject again. “So …reproduction. You were saying?”

  Moira cleared her throat, shifting slightly in her seat. “Uh, yeah. Well, like I was saying, we can only reproduce with each other, and there are lower numbers of us now than there has ever been before. There are different groups of us around the world—other than Boston. To keep reproducing but avoid inbreeding, there’s a system in place where you’re assigned a mate once you get to a certain age …for companionship and reproduction.”

  There was silence following her revelation, and Moira found herself shifting again, more anxious than she should have been to hear his response.

  “I don’t know which question to ask first,” Grady confessed, glancing over at her. “I’m not stonewalling you. I’m just processing it.”

  She nodded. “I get it.”

  “I’m going to go practical, rather than personal, first,” he decided. “Who makes these decisions?”

  “There’s a leader of each branch of the clan,” she told him. “Ronan, the guy you met at the office? He’s ours. He coordinates with the other branches to …match people up.”

  Grady nodded. “Okay …that’s efficient, I guess. Is there a chance that you’re going to be sent away then?”

  “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Boston is one of the larger branches left, even though there are fewer than twenty of us here.”

  “Twenty?” he asked her, surprised. “Twenty…dragon people?”

  She decided not to call him on the way he referenced them, knowing he didn’t mean anything by it. “Fewer than twenty,” she said again. “There are five of us in the youngest generation—me, Ronan, Eamon, Kean, and Siobhan. Our parents are all still alive, except for Eamon’s mother and Siobhan’s mother. That’s thirteen. And we have three people of the grandparent generation still around, but that’s rare. We don’t live as long, because of the toll that shifting takes on our bodies.”

  “Okay,” he said again. “But you’re one of the bigger groups.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Other people, when they’re matched with us, move here. It makes the most sense to keep trying to grow our branch rather than to divide everyone up amongst the other branches.”

  Grady blew out a breath, coming to a stop at a red light, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “I didn’t realize arranged marriages happened anymore. At least, not in this culture, I guess. Wow.”

  “My parents were never in love,” Moira said quietly, looking out the passenger side window. “They got along well enough. They were both committed to being partners and raising me. That’s the older generation’s responsibility once their children begin transitioning, and they took it seriously. But they never loved each other, and they agreed to have a relationship of convenience.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  Moira shook her head, biting down on her thumbnail. “It wasn’t ideal, obviously. Who wants to grow up knowing that her parents’ marriage is basically just so they could have her? But they never fought or acted unhappy with each other. They just weren’t in love.” She thought for a moment, then looked over at him. “It isn’t always like that. Kean’s parents were very in love. It works out sometimes, you know? A lot of the time, actually. Usually people are paired because they seem to have something in common or the opportunity for compatibility. Most couples end up in love, even if it takes a while. I know it sounds weird, but …”

  “It’s how your culture works.”

  She nodded, looking over at him. “Yeah. I guess it is. But …”

  “Yeah,” he said, half laughing. “I’m really hoping for a ‘but’ here. I could use a ‘but’.”

  “‘But’…things are changing,” Moira said. “Kean, who we’re going to meet, is going to marry someone outside of the clan, and his relationship has been approved.”

  He looked over at her, and Moira had to grab the wheel to keep him from straying from his lane.

  “Grady! Watch the road!”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, righting the car. “You just have me on pins and needles here, Moira. I didn’t even know how important it was for me to be with you until you started telling me I never could be. I mean, I don’t want to jump the gun, and I wouldn’t have under other circumstances, but it seriously sucks that we could never get married.”

  “You have no idea if you want to marry me,” Moira said, even though his words warmed her somewhere deep inside—a place she hadn’t known was cold. “You can’t know. We don’t know each other.”

  “Apparently you’re going to marry someone you barely know. Why not me?”

  “Grady, don’t get carried away,” Moira told him, not wanting to get swept up in the aftermath of their admittedly amazing sex and the emotions of the day. “We’re not there yet. All I’m doing is trying to be upfront with you. As far as I know right now, I’m supposed to be assigned a lifetime mate. But that might not be the case. Ronan is trying to figure out ways for us to reproduce outside of our own clans, or we’re going to die out. Sooner rather than later.”

  He pulled into the hotel parking lot and turned off the car, looking over at her with an intently serious expression. “Promise me that if you get your mate assignment, you’ll talk to me first. Please? I know it’s crazy, Moira—I know. But I can’t think about losing you.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, butterflies low in her stomach—a totally unfamiliar feeling for her.

  When he leaned in and kissed her, the feeling only grew, and Moira knew that she was in over her head. The most surprising part was that she didn’t mind the realization. Grady was different, and he had been from the beginning. He had gotten to her, and she wasn’t upset about it. In fact, she kind of loved it.

  “Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes at him just to maintain a little dignity, but she was smiling the whole time. “Let’s go in. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but a group of killer shifters is after us.”

  “Oh yeah,” Grady said, undoing his seatbelt. “Only you could make me forget a thing like that. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Grady

  As much as he wanted to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Moira, as they joined Kean on the sixth floor of the hotel, Grady knew that he had to focus on what was about to happen. If they were right, someone who was part of a group of supernaturals determined to take him out was hiding in a room just a few doors down, and he was at risk of once again being part of the kind of battle he had no experience with. He would have understood if Moira had told him not to come so that she didn’t have to worry about protecting him if a battle broke out, but he appreciated that she hadn’t even brought the subject up. This whole mess was about him, and he wasn’t going to s
tay at the office while she went out and fought his battles for him. He might not be able to transition into anything more than an obnoxious frat-boy version of himself after having too much to drink, but he would find a way to hold his own. That was just what he did—he adapted.

  “The only person who has walked past was a hotel employee,” Kean was telling Moira. “If that was him, then he somehow obtained a uniform and snuck out when I wasn’t looking. I’ve been trying not to be too obvious about my lurking, hanging back here by the vending machines and checking down the hallway every few minutes. If someone is watching me, they probably think I’m a complete creep.”

  “You are a creep,” Moira said lightly.

  Kean rolled his eyes. “That’s the thanks I get after staking out your guy all day. Very nice.”

  “I’m ready to do this,” Moira told him, ignoring his pretend consternation. “We’ve waited long enough. Every moment delayed is another moment for him to get his energy back, assuming we’re right about the refractory period.”

  “Just waiting for you,” Kean said, pushing away from the wall he was leaning on. “Let’s just hope that these shifters don’t have supernatural hearing. Otherwise, we could be screwed.”

  Grady’s eyebrows lifted. “Supernatural hearing?”

  “It’s unlikely,” Moira said, turning to face him. “Listen, when we knock on the door—hang back. I know you won’t want to, but let us see what we’re dealing with before you get front and center here, okay? You can’t shift, and I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll follow you.”

  Smiling, she touched his cheek again, then turned and led them down the hall, Kean following directly behind her and Grady behind him. As they were walking, Kean looked over his shoulder at Grady and gave him a friendly nod of the head that Grady appreciated. It was subtle and simple, but it was a gesture of approval and acceptance that meant a lot to him, as the outsider. He nodded back, and then forgot all about Kean as Moira lifted her hand and rapped firmly on one of the hotel doors.

  “Open up or we’re coming in,” Moira called. “You know we can.”

  Once again, Grady was taken aback and impressed by her strength. He had noticed that when it came to emotional discussions she was hesitant and noncommittal, but when it came to situations where her life was on the line—or someone else’s life was on the line—she never hesitated. She was all in, ready to take on whatever came her way.

  He admired the hell out of her for it.

  “Open up,” Moira called again, rapping on the door harder this time. “One more chance.”

  There was still no sound from behind the door, and Grady watched as Moira and Kean exchanged looks, nodding slightly at each other. Kean backed up, giving Moira room, and she positioned herself to kick the door down. Grady had just braced himself for the sound the impact was going to make, when the door opened on its own and Moira’s lifted foot dropped, her target no longer there.

  For a long moment, Grady was still staring at Moira, riveted by the determination on her beautiful face, but then his eye was drawn to the figure standing in the doorway—the one that was supposed to be a replica of himself. But all he saw there was the tiniest, thinnest woman he had ever laid eyes on. She had a blonde pixie cut that enhanced her doll-like presence, wide blue eyes, a pouty set of lips, and a furious expression on her face. Standing at no more than five feet, it looked like Moira could crush her with one solid hit, but Grady knew better than to assume the girl was weak just because she was small. Moira’s own body, while larger than this tiny human’s, was packed with far more strength than should have been possible. And from the look in the tiny woman’s eyes, she was out for blood just like her compatriots.

  “You should know that this is a mistake,” the woman said, her voice almost a squeak. “This won’t go well for you, you know. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  Moira pushed past the woman into the room, Kean following behind her, and Grady behind him. “I’m thinking that, right now, you’re not capable of anything,” Moira said. “That’s why you opened the door, and why you’re still in here, hiding. You’re a shifter, but you’re out of energy. You might be surprised with how much we know.”

  Grady made a mental note to put Moira on his PR consultant team. She was selling it hard that they were in control, even though he personally knew that they didn’t understand much about who and what they were facing yet. Based on how Moira was handling herself though, he would never have guessed.

  “You shouldn’t underestimate me,” the shifter said, crossing her arms over her chest after closing the door and facing them. “Or who I have at my disposal.”

  “We’ll take our chances,” Moira told her, sitting down on the bed like she owned the place. “What’s your name?”

  “Felicia,” the woman said, crossing her own arms over her chest. “But you can just call me Panther. That’s my best form—nobody can stop me when I’m a panther.”

  “Yeah, I’m not going to call you that,” Moira said, exchanging smirking looks with Kean that Grady recognized as a time-tested way of making the opponent feel small and outnumbered.

  He looked Felicia over, and he was confused by his reaction to her. Perhaps it was because she seemed so small and sounded almost childlike, but instead of anger toward her, he felt pity. He wondered if intimidating men like Darren had means of bullying her into what she was doing. Somehow he didn’t think she would have chosen this particular path for herself on her own, and he decided to trust his gut once more and point that out.

  “Felicia?”

  The woman looked over at him, her eyes narrowing immediately. “You, of all people, shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Maybe,” he said, not arguing the point. “But I am here. And my business is consultation. I help people figure out who they are, what they should be doing, and how to make what they want match with how the public sees them.”

  “So?”

  She seemed as confused as Moira was as to why he was telling her this, but Grady didn’t stop. “I’m just saying…I know how to read people pretty well. And I don’t think that you want to be here.”

  Felicia rolled her eyes. “Look, don’t psychoanalyze me, okay? You’re not picking up on any vibes, and if you are, maybe it’s because my hotel room as been invaded. Did you think about that? I definitely don’t want to be here with you. I’ve been in here, waiting for you all to leave well enough alone so I can go home.”

  “Yep,” Grady said, nodding confidently. “I’m right. This isn’t your cause. All you want to do is get the job done and go. You’re working for someone else’s cause. Not yours.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up,” the tiny woman said, her squeaky voice undermining the venom in the words. “You should be dead already.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you killed Callum.”

  “And you were close with Callum?”

  That question seemed to throw Felicia off, and she hesitated before answering. “He was one of us.”

  “And you thought he was a good man. Worthy of avenging.”

  Felicia frowned, her tiny eyebrows knitting together over wide eyes. “Look, what I think isn’t important, okay? Darren said you’re public enemy number one. I’m doing my part.” She threw up her hands. “Did you guys bust in here to analyze my motivations? What’s the deal here? What do you want?”

  “We want you to flip,” Grady said, cutting Moira off before she could answer. He hoped she wouldn’t be irritated that he was taking over after promising he would hang back, but all he had said was that he wouldn’t get in the way in the midst of a battle. It was clear that no supernatural battle was about to break out here though, and he was confident that he could negotiate them into an alliance with this woman whose connection to this fight seemed superficial at best.

  “Flip?” She spoke with a sneer, but Grady ignored her tone.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Because, let
’s face it. Your current position—not great. What options do you really have? You had no choice but to open the door since we were coming in anyway. You could leave—you could have left for a while—but you know that we’ll tail you to your headquarters, and you have nowhere else to go. You obviously can’t shift right now, or you would have. So …you’re stuck here, and we’re not going anywhere. Best case scenario for you, personally, is that you work with us. Otherwise, I’m guessing my friends here are going to get upset, and you can’t defend yourself against them right now, can you?”

  Felicia had gone from angry and stubborn to nervous and angsty in the short time it took for him to lay out the situation the way he saw it. It was clear that he had struck a nerve and that she knew everything he said was true. It was also clear that she was afraid of the consequences of flipping more than she was committed to the cause she was trying to protect.

  He walked over to her and took her hands in his, a gesture that drew a gasp from both her and Moira. “Felicia, I know you haven’t felt like you have a lot of control in your life …probably ever, especially because of Darren’s influence. But you’re here with us, and my friend over there—Moira—she defeated Darren yesterday. She can do it again, and she has friends to back her up too. Maybe you felt trapped here, but we can free you from ever feeling trapped again. We just need you to be on our side. Not so hard, right?”

  Looking up at him from long lashes, Felicia visibly swallowed, and then her lower lip began to tremble. All of her fight and anger and fear melted right out of her, and she fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest as he held her and patted her back. He hadn’t expected it, but his persuasive skills had been the only weapon needed in this particular room, and he looked up at Moira, smiling at his success. Felicia was clearly going to flip on her friends.