by Zoe Chant
“Yeah. What now?”
“We try to figure out how they came in.” He looked back and forth from her to the stairwell for a moment. “I don’t know if you’ll be safer up here or coming with me….”
“I’ll feel safer with you.” Especially knowing the men who attacked her were just down the hall. They might have been tied up, but their presence still felt dangerous.
“Okay,” he said, and held out his arm to her. “I’ll trust your instincts.”
She took his hand, and together they made their way down the stairwell. He went first, keeping her close to his waist. “Let’s move slow,” Brad said, “in case they dropped something.”
“Weren’t they dragons when they—”
“Probably, but I don’t want to miss anything. I know I keep telling you that things like this just don’t happen…but things like this just don’t happen. I want to have all the information I can when Doug comes in the morning.” He shook his head. “I have a lot to explain. And Dad’s not going to believe what happened to the car.”
“What’s it doing way up here anyway?”
“Believe it or not,” he said, “he’s been building it from scratch, one part at a time. I never could figure out what he wanted to do with it once he was done.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out more like hysteria. The dragons had tried to kill them both. How could—
“Hey,” Brad said, and wrapped her tight in his arms. “I’m here. It’s over.”
She was shaking. When had she started shaking?
Brad held her, his arms strong and reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”
They stayed there a while on the stairs while her heart rate got back to normal. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s the last thing you should apologize for,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You okay to go on?”
“Please,” she said. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“I figure we’ll start retracing their steps, see what signs we can find. We get lucky, it should be pretty obvious. We know they came from down here—shit. I just realized I had a huge fight in our damn kitchen. I guess Protocol Zed wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
“I guess not,” she agreed. “Do you think they—broke in?”
“It would explain the drilling noises and the shaking pretty well.”
“Maybe you should be a detective instead of a manager,” she said, as they started walking again.
“Sometimes when you’re the manager you need to be both. We had mice in here last fall, and that was a big mystery.”
“Mice?” There was no way they could have tunneled through solid rock.
“My youngest brother hadn’t properly sealed one of the windows. I still don’t know why they found the place so appealing, but they staked out a claim, for sure.” He shook his head. “We made him do most of the cleaning up after them. He’s the most squeamish of all of us, but—that’s what you get when you let in mice.”
“Seems fair,” she said. They were back at the level where the fight had ended. “Let’s turn the lights up, if you can. Then I can be more help.”
“Good idea,” he said. He let go of her hand—Rachel missed his touch immediately—and went over to the panel that controlled the lights.
Then Rachel noticed where the wall had changed. “Actually—” She pointed.
Where the shaking and noise had been, there was now a visible break through the wall. Not big enough for a dragon to sneak through, but enough for humans to pass. They must have come in as humans and transformed afterward.
“Good job,” Brad said, and joined her at the broken wall.
“It looks like they chose where there had been the big crack—where the wall was already stressed—to break through. Just pried it apart by the looks of things.” Maybe they’d just planned on robbing the clan all along? “Oh, hey, here’s some torn fabric—we get to be detectives after all.”
“There sure is,” Brad said, with satisfaction. “Jeans—a little bit of t-shirt.”
“You’re sure the were the same men?” Rachel asked.
He nodded. “You can tell, when you’re in dragon form. Hard to explain. More like you just know.” His fingers traced over the cracks. “We need to figure out how to block off this break, too,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else wandering in tonight. We need to rest. I can put wards on the door, but I’d rather have two layers of safety.”
“Me too,” Rachel agreed. “Do you not normally ward the door down here?”
“We’re in the heart of a mountain,” Brad said. “Felt a little like overkill. But I guess not really.” He stepped back, looking at the fracture pattern. “Too bad I don’t have any quick-dry cement down here.”
“It wouldn’t hold that well to the stone,” Rachel said. “Probably the easiest thing to do for now is just a fill-in. Whoever did this once will be able to do it again unless we go through that crack and figure out what’s on the other side, and I don’t think that’s safe for just the two of us.”
“I agree,” he said. “I’m not putting you at any more risk than I can help.”
“Can you tell what a dragon shifter looks like as a human from what they’re like as a dragon?”
“Not really. Dragon color is a little like eye color, but it doesn’t connect with anything you can see when you’re not shifted.” Brad was looking up and down the hole in the wall thoughtfully. “I guess you won’t recognize either of them, either way. Stand back, please. I’m going to try moving some of this rubble around, so we can at least block the hole for tonight. I don’t want anything to hurt you.” He glanced back at her. “I’m going to change to do it, so don’t—I know it’s weird.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “I think it’s kind of cool.”
“Cool?” He was still staring at the wall.
“Yeah.”
She heard the smile creep into his voice. “Well…good.” In the blink of an eye, the man was gone and the dragon was there, stretching his wings out wide. He looked so powerful, and seemed more powerful still when he reached out and started manipulating the rubble. It looked like he was sculpting the stone, like a potter would work with clay. He must be using magic.
The wall didn’t look perfect when he was done, but it at least would present a challenge to anyone who wanted to break through again. Brad transformed back, shaking his wings just before he turned fully human.
He turned back to her. “Look all right to you?”
“A lot better, anyway,” she said. “I’m afraid my research doesn’t cover dragon magic, though.”
“Maybe we can get you some funding,” he said. “We’ve always wondered about that.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We should talk about it in the morning. Along with…everything else.” He shook his head. “Is it as late as it feels?”
“Probably.” She checked her wristband. “It…isn’t early.”
“Well, Doug will be here early. We should probably get some sleep. Do you mind sharing with me?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I think I owe you something.”
He shook his head. “I think I’m too tired. But maybe in the morning? I’d love to wake up with you.”
“I would too,” she said.
9
Brad woke up warm and contented, with the first rays of morning light crossing over the golden bed.
Crossing over Rachel, still sleeping with his back to her, her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks. He’d never met anyone like her. How had he gotten so lucky?
His mate. Just when he’d almost given up hope, here she was, more beautiful than he could have imagined and smarter than he could have wished for. Her raven-dark hair was spread like a wing over the pillow. He wanted to kiss her awake, but first he should figure out where his uncle was at. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted while they—
“Good morning,” Rachel said, and her voice felt like
sunlight too.
“Hi,” he said, and slipped his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Considering…I think I slept pretty well. Were you all right?”
“I was too exhausted to do anything but sleep,” he confessed. He was a little grateful for the fatigue; it had kept him calm, away from hurting the dragons who’d hurt her. If he’d been in better shape, he might have let his fists get ahead of his uncle’s plans. “I feel a lot better now.”
She turned toward him. Was there anything he wouldn’t do for that smile? “You do?”
He liked the hope in her voice. He liked the lust he heard in it even more. “I should see if I have service, first. I want to know if Doug’s on the road, get an idea of when he’ll be coming. He’s got a lot to deal with when he gets here. I don’t want him—I don’t want to be busy, let’s just put it that way.”
She laughed. “I feel really cold, just leaving those guys alone and tied up.”
“We’ll feed them this morning. They’ll be fine.” Besides, they tried to hurt you. I could have done a lot worse—wanted to do a lot worse. “Even if they’re not connected to a clan, we have a court system, more or less. Someone will take care of them. Try to figure out what they did and why they did it, make sure they’re not hurting anyone else.”
“They won’t get killed…right?”
Even through all she’d been through, she didn’t want to hurt anyone. A perfect dragon’s mate, noted his dragon. Kind and caring. “No,” he said. “We don’t believe in life for life, even if they had killed. The clan heads often use magic, to make sure no one else will be hurt.”
“What kind of magic?”
“The worst is a seal. The clan heads can stop you from transforming, for years, even.” He shuddered. “You’ll still be strong, but just strong for an ordinary human, and if things go too badly, you’ll end up in the human legal system. In jail just like everyone else.” Jail sounded bad enough, but being unable to connect with your dragon—that was terrifying. When he’d heard about it as a kid, he hadn’t been able to sleep for days. “But there are other things they can do. Supervision by clan heads—kind of like house arrest, I guess. It depends on what they were doing and why. If one of the clans authorized all this, it could be bad.”
“Like…war or something?”
“I can’t imagine war,” he said, honestly. “But it could be trouble.” He reached over to the bedside table and turned his phone on. “Hey, we’ve got bars. I don’t know if you’ll want to keep yours in the rice another day or not, but it’s a start.” After a few seconds, his messages started coming through. A text from his sister, and two from his brothers—who’d obviously been tipped off about what was going on. Linden had written Do you know who’s responsible yet? while Aaron’s message was MATE?!?! followed by a list of heart and smiley face emojis.
Brad ignored all those and went to his uncle’s text. Leaving now, should be in by 8 am.
He glanced at the clock by the bed. It was 7:15. “Good news,” he said. “Unless you’re starving, we’ve got a little time—”
“I’m hungry,” Rachel said, rolling toward him. “But I’m not that hungry.” She was wearing one of Brad’s old t-shirts, which flowed over her soft curves. It skimmed her thighs, and his gaze was drawn to her creamy, soft skin.
Damn, she got him hard. He could look at her forever, if he didn’t want to touch so much. He put his phone down and put his arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss.
She kissed back, and she did feel hungry, pulling him close so tightly he could feel her short nails pressing into his back. He could feel her passion in her kiss, in her touch. In the soft way she moaned as he began sliding the t-shirt hem up her thighs. She parted her legs for him, and he slipped his hand between her legs, sliding in—
He broke the kiss and gasped. She was wet, oh, she was wet—
She moaned even harder as he pressed his fingers into the wetness, finding her clit with his fingertips and teasing the hard nub as lightly and gently as he could. She shivered as he touched her. Every motion of her body made his own body ache more intently. He wanted to make her forget everything she’d been through, everything but pleasure, everything but his touch.
He pushed the hair back from her face with his free hand and pressed his lips to hers again.
“Inside me,” she said, when they parted. “Please.”
He couldn’t say no to that. He pushed his boxers down and let her open her legs to let him in.
Her skin was even softer than the sheets, and her warmth was driving him crazy. He put his hands on either side of her body, kneeling between her thighs, dipping his head down to kiss each round, perfect breast in turn. She moaned harder as he brushed his tongue against her right nipple, and shivered delightfully as he took it gently into her mouth. He wanted to fill her, but not yet—he wanted to bring her to the heights of pleasure first.
“Don’t tease me,” she said urgently, and her hips pressed up into him, seeking him, wanting, wanting more.
He wanted to dip his head between her legs again, taste her all over again, but she was too eager—hell, so was he. More could wait. They’d have plenty of time later.
“Please,” she said. The way he said it made his mouth water.
He pushed into her slowly, as slowly as he could, listening to every breath Rachel took, feeling her body respond to every motion. He wanted to lose control, lose himself in her, but he couldn’t—not yet, not yet—
He focused himself on her, on her wetness, letting him in as she moaned, so, so softly. Her breath was ragged, desperate. Her hips jerked, and his whole world shook. “Good?” he panted.
She nodded, almost frantic.
He thrust as deeply in as he could, and her eyes went wild, wide. “Oh,” she gasped.
He kept control, thrusting into her deep, using her every moan and shudder as his guide. She was even more beautiful like this, wild and passionate, her perfect skin glowing with the morning light. “Oh,” she said, and he could feel her pleasure building, as she came closer and closer to the peak, as their passion built together.
She gasped one last time as her orgasm washed over her, and he let himself go, too, thrusting hard and fast into her as he found his own completion.
Rachel reached up and wound her hands into his hair as he finished. “Oh,” she said. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure,” he panted, “was mine.” He bent down and kissed her again. “Next time, we’ll…I’ll take more time.”
“I’m not sure I could’ve waited that long,” Rachel confessed.
He dropped down at her side, and they stayed together in one another’s arms for a little while, as their heartbeats slowed. “Your clothes should be dry,” he said. “Should I bring them up?”
“I guess you should,” she said. “You…I saw a shower, right? Do we have to heat up the water or anything?”
“It’s thermal heating,” he said, and kissed her cheek. “Warm water from the core of the earth.”
“Oh,” she said. “That sounds lovely.”
“Take as much time as you want to,” he said. “I’ll see if there’s anything edible in the kitchen after I check that repair job from last night. Hopefully it held.”
“Hopefully nothing tested it at all,” she said.
He gave her another long, deep kiss. What he would have liked to do most of all was to stay in bed with her another hour or two, sketching every perfect curve, but he knew he didn’t have that kind of time. Not today. “I’ll leave your clothes on the bed,” he said. “There’s a door into the master bathroom right there—” He pointed. “Just behind that wall hanging. Do you have…food allergies or anything? I should have asked last night.”
“No,” she said. “Nothing like that.”
“Okay.” He kissed her cheek again and got up before he felt any more temptation. “I’ll be back.”
He pulled his jeans on, washed up so Rach
el could have the bathroom to herself, and went to the washer and drier they kept just outside the kitchen. The last thing he’d done before they collapsed into bed was throw Rachel’s t-shirt and underwear in the dryer, so she’d have something clean to wear in the morning. She’d saved out her bra—apparently those required special treatment, he’d have to learn how that worked—and her jeans and sweater had been clean enough, so the other clothes had dried quickly. He took them out and set them on the bed, then checked his phone. No word from Doug yet, so he had time to get some coffee around, at least. Maybe some food too. He was starving, and Rachel had said she was hungry.
He checked the basement first, to make sure that his quick fix had held, and then went up to the kitchen to see what else Doug had stocked up. He had hoped that he could do a little cleaning up, but the chaos of the night before had broken wood and even cracked the marble counter in one corner. A ceramic cookie jar and the mixer on the kitchen island were lost causes. He cleared them away, then snapped off the broken cupboard doors and threw them out, too. He carefully swept the floor, making sure nothing would hurt Rachel’s bare feet, before he started cooking.
The coffee was easy to find, at least; Doug always kept some high-quality stuff in the freezer, so he pulled that out and started a pot. He’d gotten out the bacon and sausage last night. A search of the kitchen yielded some microwavable oatmeal and a few frozen waffles—the kind that someone had cooked in the waffle maker, rather than the boxed kind, which was something—and a can of condensed orange juice. Brad mixed up the orange juice and got the sausage and bacon started while he waited for Rachel to come into the kitchen.
She came in as he was pouring his cup of coffee. Watching her walking down the hallway, barefoot, her hair wet from the shower, gave Brad a tremendous feeling of—
Not pride exactly. Contentment. His mate, in his lair. It was a feeling that things were exactly as they ought to be, even though he knew they had a mess on their hands. Things are exactly as they ought to be, his dragon reminded him. Messes can be cleaned up. Mates are for the rest of your life.