Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4)

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Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4) Page 3

by Terry Bolryder


  “Sure,” he replied. “Whatever you like.” He stretched. “Hell, it’s so good to be out of that cellar.”

  “At least you sound pretty normal now.” She gave him an amused look. “And wait, what did you mean about the hair and eye color not mattering? You can’t just go running around our world with white hair and rainbow eyes.”

  “I can’t?” he asked, his eyes teasing. Then he sighed again. “As I said, it’s not a problem.”

  “How so?” she asked.

  He took a deep breath, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him transform. His hair took on a rich-brown hue.

  “Any preference for eye color?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  “Brown, then. To match the hair.” Then he looked over at her, eyes twinkling a shade of chocolate brown.

  The effect was striking. His handsome, sharp features were the same, but the framing was completely different. It made him look a little more masculine, more serious.

  “How did you do that? Can all dragons do that?”

  “Of course not.” He scoffed. “I’m the diamond dragon, as my ring attests.” He observed his reflection in the window and nodded. “And as you probably know, diamonds refract every color of light in the rainbow. One of my abilities is I can choose. Luckily, it seems trivial powers like that aren’t constrained by the collar.”

  She nodded. “But you never showed that before.”

  “Of course not,” he said tersely. “I knew I was going to escape at some point. I didn’t want them to know I could change my appearance.”

  “So just hair and eye color?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid so.” He confirmed. “There’s another dragon with more shape-shifting abilities—Opal—but she hasn’t been heard from in a long time. For all I know, she could be dead. I don’t know if there’s been an update since my time.”

  “So you were cryogenically frozen, right?” she asked, breathing a sigh of relief as they finally reached the freeway.

  “Right,” he said. “They were waking us up one by one to see if we could help in the fight between humans and shifters, I believe. But I was stolen, to be used for other purposes.”

  “But why did they want your blood?”

  “Dragon blood is powerful,” he explained. “Many uses. I’m not sure exactly what they were doing with it. Not sure I want to know.” He shuddered. “That’s behind me now, though.”

  “Except when you come back with me to face them.” She corrected.

  “Right, of course,” he said absentmindedly. “So what is our plan for now? You’re the expert on this world.”

  She sighed. “I’m going to pull off one of these exits and find a motel, where I hope they won’t look for us. Then we’ll get some rest and talk about how to find your friends.”

  He nodded. “Right. Sounds good. Lodgings.”

  “Lodgings,” she repeated, repressing a grin at the old-fashioned sound of the word.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “No.”

  “Liar,” he said. “You’re grinning.”

  “Lodgings,” she said again. “No one calls it that.” She sighed. “And it’s just been a really long night, you know?”

  “Yes.” He agreed. “I can imagine, since you were attacked.”

  She shivered. “I didn’t think he would go that far. I still can’t—”

  “Shh,” Alistair said. “Don’t talk about it. It’ll make me angry all over again.”

  “Did it really make you angry?” she asked, sensing an odd flutter.

  He looked indignant, brushing his long, brown hair over his shoulder. “Of course it did. Did you see what I did to him?”

  “I assumed that was just a lot of pent-up anger from being imprisoned.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “No. No, when that anger comes out, there is going to be flames and death and a hundred corpses. No, this particular outburst was purely for you, my dear. Though I’m not sure why.” He shook his head. “I’ve never particularly cared for humans before. Beyond what they can do for me.”

  She frowned. “And what can they do for you?”

  He grinned. “Admiration. Giving me nice things. Inviting me to parties. Giving me power and influence.” He let out a long breath. “I can’t wait to get all of that back.”

  “So you’re a despot,” she said.

  “I’d like to be,” he quipped as she said a quick prayer and pulled off an exit to find a motel. She’d skipped a few available, so they shouldn’t expect them here.

  Heck, maybe for now, they would just let them go. She knew the shifters she’d worked for were huge on secrets. Maybe they wouldn’t pursue them just because they risked exposing themselves if they followed.

  That didn’t mean they wouldn’t send someone else. But hopefully that would give them at least a day’s lead.

  Maybe.

  She followed the signs up the side of a mountain to a small cabin with an old sign out front, advertising cabins for rental.

  She parked, turned off the car, and looked at Alistair. “The less people who see you, the better,” she said. “I’ll check us in and come back for you.”

  Alistair jumped as Scrangey hopped into his lap. Then he stroked the cat thoughtfully. “I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone. This does not appear to be the most upscale of accommodations.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, well, with my paychecks, we’re not going to be getting any kind of upscale accommodations, so get used to it, pretty boy.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Pretty boy? Why does that sound derogatory.”

  She frowned. “Because it is.” She felt flustered as he stared at her, so big in her car, holding the cat. It really hit her that she was actually out here, alone, with a man she’d only known behind bars until he’d rescued her.

  She took a deep breath. “Just wait here.” Then she put child locks on and headed toward the front office, which was dimly lit, with a sign over the door.

  Pine needles crunched underfoot as she walked up the steps and pulled open the creaky glass door. “We need a room for the night,” she said as she approached a wooden desk.

  The bored-looking woman in her mid twenties looked Bridget up and down and then nodded. “Fifty bucks,” she said, sliding over a single paper for Bridget to sign and putting out a hand.

  Bridget scowled and dug out a credit card, handing it over.

  “That’s just the deposit,” the woman said, smacking her gum as she ran the card. After scrawling a barely legible signature, Bridget tapped her foot and glanced out at the car, making sure everything was normal.

  She would be able to calm down some when they were safe in a room, away from view.

  The girl handed the card back. “We’ll charge the rest on checkout. You’re in cabin 201. Have a good stay.”

  But she didn’t really look like she cared, and by the time Bridget took the card and was headed out the door, she was already on her phone.

  Bridget scanned the cabins situated on the hill and quickly picked out the gold numbers indicating their cottage. She got in the car and drove up the rough dirt road, parking off to the side, hidden in the trees.

  Then she handed the key card to Alistair. “You hold this.”

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Our keys,” she said. “You go ahead and unlock it. I have to get a few things out of the car if we’re going to be comfortable.”

  He nodded and walked with Scrangey up the rickety wood steps in front of the triangle-shaped cabin.

  She’d just have to hope he could figure out how the card reader worked, since she needed to grab the emergency blankets and the first aid kit and her emergency food supply. Luckily, before she’d set out on her cross-country trip to rescue her former roommate, she’d stocked up on things she might need.

  She set things outside the car, grabbed what she could carry, and headed up to the cabin, which was already unlocked, the door partially ope
n.

  She walked in, deposited her load, and went out for another. She heard Alistair come down behind her, and he took the boxes from her arms, loaded the others up, and carried them all easily inside.

  She locked the door behind them and let out a huge sigh of relief.

  For now, for a few moments, they were safe.

  She hadn’t seen anyone following on the freeway, and even if they did look for them now, they’d have to check a lot of places, which would buy them time.

  “Where are we?” Alistair asked, skimming around the cabin, wrinkling his perfect nose at the humble furnishings.

  “Can’t remember the name on the exit,” she said. “These tiny mountain towns are all the same as far as I’m concerned.”

  He sat on the only couch in the small living room and then sank back on it, eyes closed in rapture.

  “I thought you said the accommodations were lame,” she said, gazing down at him.

  “It’s all a matter of perspective,” he replied, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. “I’ve been on a concrete floor for weeks.”

  Guilt ran through her. She really did hate how he’d been treated, but for all she’d known, he’d been dangerous and needed to be restrained.

  Now that she was starting to know a little better, she realized it was truly unfair.

  Alistair snorted and waved a hand. “Don’t go feeling guilty now, princess. I’m fine.” He gave her a wicked grin. “And soon, I’ll be more than fine. I’ll be myself again.”

  She felt a little shiver at that and opened one of the boxes to pull out extra clothes. She tugged on a sweater that was warm and cozy and sat on a small chair near a window with closed drapes. She clicked on the lamp and turned off the main overhead light. “We should keep the light as minimal as possible.”

  “You don’t need to look so afraid,” he said. “Even if they do send someone to catch up, I’m well capable of defending us.” He let out a deep breath. “I can’t fly or slice things with diamond fire, but I’m still stronger and harder than anything those idiots can throw at us.” He grinned. “Diamond, remember?”

  She did. “But I’m not diamond.”

  “No,” he said, eyeing the ring. “But you have diamond to protect you.”

  “The ring?” she asked, surprised.

  “No,” he said, frowning. “Me. At least for now.”

  Scrangey meowed, sniffing around, and then curled into a ball on the carpet.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Alistair asked, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

  “He’s probably hungry,” she said, opening another box. “I have canned meat in here. I’ll give him that.” She went to the kitchen to find a can opener as she heard Alistair let out a dour laugh.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said as she came back in with food for Scrangey in the now open can. “I meant I’m going to have my powers back and have no use for a cat. I couldn’t leave him there, but what are we going to do with him?”

  She frowned. “There are shelters,” she said. “If neither of us can keep him.”

  “You don’t want to?” he asked.

  She gave Scrangey a sad look. She did want to. At least, she wanted him to have a good home. But she didn’t know how much it was going to take to get Lana back, and until she did that, she couldn’t really take care of anyone but herself. “I can’t for now. You don’t want to? I thought he was your friend.”

  Alistair’s look was apathetic. “Friend is a strong word. He was company. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, but when I get my dragon powers back, I intend to go back to the world I knew. Luxury. Power. Friends in high places.”

  She frowned. “Selfish.”

  He grinned. “Absolutely.”

  She couldn’t keep herself from letting out an exasperated sigh. “You put on this show like you’re some kind of bad guy, but you actually aren’t. You feed stray cats. You rescued me—”

  “I do what I feel like,” he interjected. “Stop making a big deal of it.”

  She shrugged. “You could have just let him do it.”

  The tension rose in the air. She felt him ruffle at the thought. “No, I couldn’t. I don’t want to watch that.”

  “So it’d be fine if you didn’t have to watch it?”

  He stood abruptly, hands in the pockets of his gray sweats. “I’m not talking about this anymore.” He looked at her box. “Any other clothing in there? I need to be out of these.”

  She didn’t have anything close to his size, so she shook her head. “But we can go to the store tomorrow.” She pulled out her first aid kit and the scissors inside it. “But we do have to do something about that hair before we go out in public.”

  He winced. “But I changed it.”

  “Not enough,” she said. “Men in our day don’t have hair like that.”

  He backed away from her, distraught. “No. I’m not cutting it. We’ll get a hat.”

  She set down the scissors in defeat. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. There are going to be stares.”

  A smile crept up his lips. “Stares are fine. I’m used to stares.” He sat back on the couch and, for a moment, stared out into space. She realized how it must feel, sitting there in the clothing he’d had to wear for so long. Sure, they constantly gave him new, clean versions, but still, even looking at it had to make him think of captivity.

  No matter what he was, he didn’t deserve that.

  She rummaged in her box, looking for sweats, and pulled out a pair of her favorite.

  Since she was curvy, and his hips were lean, she had an idea of what might work. She cut off the bottoms of the sweats, so they were open and then removed the tie at the waistband. She handed them over, along with a large tee shirt she’d gotten at a concert. She liked wearing men’s shirts at night anyway.

  “Here,” she said. “In the meantime. Since I’m sure it sucks to stay in clothes like that.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly, the brown flickering blue for a second. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked. “You weren’t even going to help me without the ring. Now you’re cutting your clothes for me. And I can’t imagine you have that many.”

  She shrugged. “Things aren’t that important to me. And I want to help. I mean, I only took the ring to make sure you help me with Lana.”

  “Lana,” he said, balling the sweats in his lap. “That’s who we’re searching for?”

  She nodded. “That’s my friend.”

  “She must mean a lot to you,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had anyone I would go that far for.” He shook his head. “Staying around shifters when you’re a vulnerable human.”

  “Not that vulnerable,” she protested. “I did okay.”

  “Until today,” he said, glancing over at her.

  Awkwardness fell over the room, both of them not wanting to think about what had almost happened.

  Alistair stood abruptly. “I’m going upstairs to change. I assume that’s where the bedroom is.”

  She nodded.

  He went as Scrangey finished his food and looked up at her as if to ask if there were more.

  She sighed and went to open another can. At least someone should be comfortable tonight. Given that she and Alistair would somehow be sleeping in the same room, that probably wasn’t going to be her.

  Chapter 4

  Bridget was a puzzle to Alistair.

  Despite caring very little for herself, she extended a great deal of care toward others, like this Lana she was obsessed with saving.

  He didn’t want to say it, but if Lana had been taken before Bridget and was no longer at the castle, the odds of her being okay were not good.

  But Bridget seemed to be holding on to the thought with perfect hope, and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

  Still, he felt uncharacteristically angry with her for being so willing to put herself in danger for merely the cha
nce to help someone else.

  Then again, it was working for his benefit. She was here helping him just for the chance to see Lana again.

  He looked down at the shirt and pants she’d given him. They were ill fitting, short, and tight.

  But they weren’t anything like the clothes he’d been imprisoned with, and that meant everything.

  He’d be getting better clothes, the best clothes, once he had his treasure back. But for now, it was enough just to not be forced to wear something he didn’t want to.

  He looked around the small room and realized they were in an odd situation.

  Despite him being a dragon and her being a human, sleeping in a room together, just the two of them, was a little bit out of decorum.

  But what should he care? He hadn’t had a bed in a long time. He deserved it and didn’t mind sharing. So why did he feel a little uneasy thinking of being in it with Bridget, her curvy body curled against him?

  No, why did he assume she would curl against him?

  He’d seen the way she looked at him. Like he was some kind of beautiful, poisonous plant, dangerous to her.

  And he had the odd desire to want to prove the opposite. That he could protect her, as he had with the wolf.

  He’d never been anyone’s hero, but doing it just the once had been sort of satisfying.

  Even if he still couldn’t figure out why.

  He heard a knock on the door and sat up. “Yes?”

  “It’s Bridget,” she called out. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked in wearing the sweater she’d put on but with odd, checked pants that looked soft.

  She wasn’t a typically beautiful woman exactly, but something about her had always caught his attention. Her hair was straight, a medium blond that was neither light nor dark. But it looked soft to the touch. Her eyes were fine, he supposed. A soft green that could look bright when she was in a good mood.

  Her mouth was actually quite nice when not pinched with stress. Full, pink lips that actually appeared quite kissable.

  Maybe sharing a bed wouldn’t be so bad. It had been a long time since he had a woman, touched anyone really. And perhaps she would be willing.

  She was attracted to him, like most humans, though she tried to fight it.

 

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