Dragonsteel

by Rebecca Baelfire

  I’d been wrong.

  Looking at the cops now that they were in the shop, I realized only one of them was law enforcement, dressed in the uniform of the Springfield PD. The other, in black jeans and a plain black tee, looked far too young to be a police officer. Despite the cold, he wore no coat, and the sleeves on his tee only reached to his sizable biceps.

  Wow. It was adorable the way his thick, ash-blond hair fell over one azure eye, partly obscuring it from view. The other eye was bright and piercing, awakening something fierce and hot deep in my chest. The boy had a strong, jutting chin and a well-shaped jaw, a friendly, slightly lopsided smile. I guessed he was close to my age, but he had to pump iron, with those muscles. My heart battered my ribs, and not from nervousness.

  “Maddie Sorenson?” the cop asked, addressing my boss. She nodded and shook his hand. “Officer Tisdale. This is my ride-along, Boyd. Your neighbor filed a report about a robbery here last night.” Tisdale interviewed my boss while the tattooing needle buzzed on, but I only caught half of what he said. The boy he’d brought with him had all my attention, and not just because he was hot.

  He had the most fascinating smell—warm primal, woodsy. I inhaled deeply, familiarity flickering across my thoughts. I’d smelled something like him before.

  “Hi,” he said, yanking me out of my thoughts. “Hunter Boyd. And you are?”

  Everything in me screamed to say something clever or witty, but the less I said to him, the better. God damn it, I hated my life.

  “I’m busy.” I made a big production of wiping off the small coffee tables arranged around the room. Fuck, he probably thought I was the world’s biggest snob.

  He cocked his head at me. “Busy. That’s an interesting name.”

  I bit my lip hard around the smile that tugged at my mouth. Bent over a table, I closed my eyes tight, as if doing so would make him go away, or at least make him stop talking to me. No such luck. Damn it, that scent of his was to die for. I wanted to live in it.

  “Suit yourself, Busy. I’ll just be over there, admiring the gorgeous view.”

  “Er…gorgeous?” My head shot up, heat warming my cheeks. I dropped the stack of leaflets in my hands. They scattered everywhere, fluttering to the floor. “Shhhit.”

  His grin sent the butterflies in my belly into a frenzy. Hunter squatted and started picking up the leaflets with me.

  “I’m not usually this clumsy, really.” I filled my arms with leaflets.

  “So, you’re only clumsy when a hot aspiring cop talks to you then?”

  I sputtered a laugh. “Full of yourself much?” I wanted to be annoyed at him, but all I could do was picture that tall, blocky frame in a police uniform, complete with a gold badge on his chest and a gun in a holster.

  Dayum. I was supposed to be anti-cop, but that looked hot. And why did he have to smell so good? He smelled like something animal, something dangerous and wild.

  “No. But I saw you getting an eye full.” He set the papers down on a table.

  Okay, Helena, stop talking to him now.

  “Why are you here? Are you related to that officer or something?”

  Walk away now.

  “No, I’m in the ride along program.”

  He said that already, Helena. Duh.

  “Jake came to our school for a job fair.” He jerked his thumb at Officer Tisdale. “I chatted him up and told him I wanted to be a cop. He offered to take me along for the day. I’ll be getting into the academy when I turn eighteen next year.”

  “Shouldn’t you be watching him work while he talks to my boss?” Walk away. Away now. But I crossed my arms, staying where I was.

  “I will, after I get your name.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Would you rather I called you “Busy” from here on out?”

  “Whatever. There won’t be a here on out, because you won’t be seeing me again.”

  His eyes sparkled. So gorgeous. Looking at this guy could make a girl weep for what she couldn’t have. Dad’s rules about not talking to anyone, and about not dating, spun through my mind.

  Ah, this, my life, right here.

  “What if I came in here to get a tattoo tomorrow?”

  “Ha. You won’t. You’re too much of a good boy to get inked up.”

  “How do you know what kind of guy I am?”

  “I know. Your pants and shirt both look brand new. Not a scuff mark on your boots. Every inch of you is pristine. When you become a cop, you’ll wear your uniform without so much as a wrinkle. I can’t see you with ink.”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Then he walked away, toward Tisdale.

  As soon as he’d put distance between us, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He crossed the room, taking his glorious, perfect animalistic smell with him.

  Get it together, Helena! The last thing I needed to do was crush on a fucking future badge, not to mention whatever kind of shifter he was.

  Hunter did come into the shop the next day, as promised. Lunch hour had rolled around, and Maddie had just sent me to get us burgers when the bell above the door chimed. Hunter entered and walked over to the counter. The shop instantly filled with hot boy smell, rich and spicy, laced with a dose of shifter heat.

  “You have to be kidding.” I rolled my eyes, hating the way my stomach filled with butterflies again. Traitor.

  “Morning, Busy.”

  “Stop calling me that, you sound lame.” I snatched the design catalogue he’d picked up from the counter and dropped it onto the shelf with a thump.

  “Tell me your name, and I won’t have to call you that.”

  “No.”

  “Give me that.” He gestured for the catalogue. I thought I noticed the faintest accent in his voice, New York, though I wasn’t familiar with the different areas to pick up on which. How had I not noticed the accent before?

  “Why?”

  “Because. I said I was going to come back for a tat. Let me see them.”

  I put my head back. “Please leave.”

  “I’ll complain to management.” His eyes sparkled.

  “Ugh. You’re an ass. Wait, how old are you?”

  “Seventeen.” He pulled out a wallet and showed me a driver’s license. He drove. A stab of jealousy hit me.

  “You have to have a legal guardian with you while you get inked unless you’re eighteen.” I gave him a sweet smile.

  “Fuck. My mother will be here then.”

  I thumped the catalogue on the counter in front of him and called for my boss. “Maddie? There’s a jerk—I mean, a guy—here wanting a tat. You have a spot for tomorrow, you want me to pencil him in?”

  “Wait.” He stopped me as I started writing his name. “Are you working tomorrow?”

  “No. That’s why I’m putting you in for tomorrow.”

  His wide grin made my knees wobble. “I want it today.”

  “There’s a spot open at three,” Maddie called when I said her name again. “Have him look through the designs.”

  “Figures.” God, I couldn’t be around this guy. He made it difficult to think straight, and that risked mistakes. Not to mention my dad would probably think his being a shifter was worse than his wanting to be a police officer. I ignored his smug look and scribbled him in. Then I grabbed my coat. “Maddie, I’m off to get lunch.”

  “’Kay. Get a receipt, and we’ll log it as a business expense.”

  I swung my coat on.

  “It’s icy out there,” Hunter said. “Where are you headed? I’ll take you.”

  “I—” I paused and looked outside. Fuck, he was right, the roads were slick with the first snow of the year. “My hero. Have a seat. She’ll be with you shortly, and you can pick out a design with her.”

  “The tattoo can wait. I won’t have a lady slip and fall.” I was already at the door, and he slid his arm into mine.

  Images flooded my mind, sudden and almost painful in their intensity. Hunter, moving thro
ugh crowded high school halls. In a yelling match with his immaculately dressed, every-hair-in-place father who apparently didn’t want him hanging out at “that police station.” A gunshot going off from a rifle, making me jump when it echoed in my head. Sadness and loss crashed from his mind into mine.

  Not for the first time, when I saw so much in another person’s head, guilt pinched at my gut. It felt like I was seeing into his private life, uninvited. Witnessing things I had no right to see.

  “Are you all right?” Hunter’s voice drew me back to him. He squeezed my elbow.

  “I’m fine.” I jerked my arm out of his, refusing to let him think I needed his help.

  “So, where are we going?”

  I started toward the deli. “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to the deli up the street.” My foot slipped on the ice, and I swore, feeling myself tumble toward the ice.

  Hunter’s hands were suddenly on my waist, holding me up with ease. Holding me against his strong frame. Heat pumped through my blood. Hadn’t he been five steps behind me? And the warmth pounding off him was a few degrees too high for a human. Yeah, definitely a shifter, but what kind?

  “You’re supposed to leave now,” I said irritably.

  “Not gonna happen.” He parroted my words and walked with me.

  “Are you always this pushy?”

  “No. But I go after what I want.”

  “You’re annoying.”

  “And you’re beautiful.” He pushed a stray lock of dark hair behind my shoulder. A flicker of attraction from him hit me, echoing my own with the contact. It was a moment before I realized I’d settled into walking with him, arm relaxed in his as we carefully picked our way over the icy walk.

  Sometimes his bare hand brushed mine, but as was usually the case with prolonged contact or exposure, I picked up less and less of his thoughts or emotions until they became a low hum inside my mind, one I barely noticed.

  “Well, if I can’t get rid of you, tell me what kind of tattoo you want.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Something basic, like one of those tribal bands around the arm, you know?”

  We talked all the way to the shop, pausing only long enough for Hunter to call his mother to make sure she could be there while he got his ink. He insisted on paying for lunch—roast beef sandwiches with mustard on rye for each of us and my boss, with horseradish added for Hunter. By the time we walked back, we were laughing at each other’s jokes. Walking with him felt cozy and comfortable. All the while, my thoughts buzzed with warning not to let myself become attached to him, not to open up, to be careful with what I said.

  I saw nothing in his mind that suggested he knew anything about Dragonlords, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. His being a shifter of any sort put him in the supernatural column, which put him off limits with Dad and increased the chances of his being tied to the kinds of forces we needed to avoid. Besides, I had little control over what I saw in another person’s mind.

  He got his tattoo, giving us time to talk while Maddie inked up his arm with a circle of black sharp lines and crisscrossing bands. It gave his otherwise clean image just the right hint of rebellion. His mother said little, but she had a kind smile and a gentle voice. Sadness clouded her eyes, though, sadness that looked a lot like the expression my father wore when he talked about Mom.

  I remembered the gunshot, the rifle going off in Hunter’s thoughts. Who had they lost?

  When Maddie finished his tat, Hunter’s mother left with a smile for me before she walked to her car.

  “Aren’t you going with her?” I nodded to his mom.

  “No.” He stood up from the tattooing chair and thanked Maddie.

  “Why?” I injected a hint of false irritation into my voice.

  “I’m not done with you, that’s why.” He took my hand and led me to the door of the parlor. Heat raced up my arm. I couldn’t make myself pull away.

  Out on the front step, I smoothed my hand over the Saniderm that covered his new tat, careful not to use any pressure on the newly raw skin. He’d be able to take the covering off in about six hours.

  “My dad’s gonna kill me, but it’ll be worth it.” He drew a piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans and held it out. “For you.”

  I took the paper, looking at the numbers written there. His phone number. My face warmed. It took all my willpower to hand the paper back. Loneliness cut like a blade. “I can’t call you.”

  “Sure you can.” His fingers closed around the paper, brushing mine. Then he stepped so close his body heat enveloped me. He slid the paper into the side pocket of my jeans. His fingers dove deep, rubbing against my thigh, burying the paper at the bottom of my pocket.

  Desperation wriggled in me, mixing with the need to protect my secret, tearing me in two. “No, I can’t. Please take it back, or else I’ll use it, and that would be bad.”

  “Later, Busy.” He winked, pulled away at last, waved, and then he was gone. The feel of his mind faded, and it hit me how comforting that sensation had become now that it was gone.

  I wandered back into the shop in a daze, head feeling wonderfully light, an unwilling smile on my face.

  “Why don’t you want him to know your name?” Maddie asked, lips pulling into a smirk when she looked up at me.

  “Because he wants it,” I half lied. “Don’t tell him, okay?”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  I leaned against the front door, letting my head fall against it with a thunk. “Maddie,” I moaned.

  “He’s hot. If I was ten years younger, I’d snap him up.”

  “You’re not helping. Lord, save me from gorgeous guys and overbearing dads.”

  All evening, I couldn’t get Hunter out of my mind. Through dinner, I forced myself to remain focused on the conversation with Dad, half afraid he’d somehow pick up on my distraction. If he did, he gave no sign.

  While picking at the pepperoni on my pizza, I grappled for what kind of shifter Hunter was, but I couldn’t place his smell for the life of me.

  A handful of times, when my father had encountered creatures he was after and there was no safe way to keep me away from the fight, I’d been present when he’d killed a were. I remembered a bear once, part of a clan that had fallen in with Shandar. And a coyote alpha that had been attacked by a galsik, poisoned by the spikes that came out of its arms. Hunter hadn’t smelled like a bear or a coyote.

  That night, sleep took forever to find me. I didn’t remember drifting off, but I must have, because the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a forest. Stars peeked through the tall canopy of trees overhead and moonlight turned the leaves to silver where it touched. The air bore a slight chill, much milder than it should have been for a November evening.

  I glanced around. Where was the motel? Where was Dad? Where the hell was I?

  Leaves crunched, dry and cold under my feet, making me look down. What in the fuck? I wore only the knee-length white nightgown I’d gone to bed in, my feet bare.

  An intense gaze pressed into my back. I spun around as the presence of something animal flickered through my mind. Something that smelled…

  “Hunter? Fuck, I’m dreaming about him now?”

  A low, primal growl echoed through the trees, close, but not enough to tell me where he was. I made my way down a narrow path between the trees. In the distance, a river rushed, water drawing me to it for some reason. I changed direction, following the sound.

  “Hunter?”

  The animal presence intensified, filling my thoughts. After what felt like a few minutes, the river came into view, white rapids rushing over rocks toward a waterfall. For some reason, I had the sense I’d be safe there.

  Safe? From Hunter?

  Alarm bells sounded in my head. Whatever was here with me was dangerous.

  Leaves rustled, a breeze raising gooseflesh on my arms and bringing a rotten smell so intense it made me gag, like death breathing on my face. Magic pulsed across my skin, cold and clammy.r />
  An intense gaze once more pressed in on my back. I whirled around.

  The dog I hadn’t seen since I was twelve stood before me, huge and black and red-eyed. I hadn’t seen any sign of him since then, but I would have remembered him if a thousand years had passed. Was he bigger this time, or did he just look that way because it was dark and there were no walls of a house to protect me?

  A scream lodged in my throat. I backed away, tripping on a log underfoot. Went sprawling. The dog—no, it was a wolf, with that fur and those eyes—stalked forward. Its red, glowing stare seemed to pin me to the cold ground.

  Then I felt it. Hatred, so strong it bombarded my thoughts, stabbing like a knife. I put the heel of my palm to my head with a hiss. The hatred wasn’t for me. It was for Hunter. Why? I could feel it, this thing didn’t like…

  Werewolves.

  The image of Hunter flashed in my mind, heavy with the impression of a werewolf form, even though, somehow, I knew he couldn’t change into one.

  “Get away from me!” I kicked at the wolf when it came close, but my foot missed. I could have sworn I kicked where its muzzle had been, but the wolf blended with the night so well I couldn’t tell, and my foot didn’t connect with anything.

  If it hated werewolves, what was this creature? The smell wafting off him, like death and rotting magic, wasn’t werewolf at all.

  Again, I kicked at him, but he only crouched over me, face so close his breath fanned my cheeks, putrid and nauseating.

  “Dad, help!” I knew he wouldn’t come, wouldn’t hear me, but I had to try.

  There was a horrible roar. It ripped across the night, wild and deadly and filled with rage.

  The wolf turned its head, snuffling loudly. The hair on its back stood on end, ears laid back. An even stronger hatred radiated from him, tearing at my thoughts and making me wince.

  Another roar, loud, from something truly huge, so big I should have seen it flattening the trees.

  The dragon was suddenly there, filling the sky, wending its way through the trees without knocking them flat. Its long golden body moved through the brush like a serpent, wings held close. Moonlight made its scales like golden fire.