Dragon Amour (Dragon-Half Breed Book 1)

by Robin Ambrozic

  “Sure.” I got up and headed into the living room. As I approached his reading chair, a small wrapped box with my name in gold lettering sat under his reading glasses. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

  “Merry Christmas.” He whispered.

  “I thought we were waiting.”

  “Dad’s prerogative.”

  I handed him his glasses and opened the small box. Inside was a beautiful gold necklace with a small red teardrop ruby attached to it. I immediately recognized it and turned to him. “This is mom’s.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  “It’s been sitting inside that jewelry box for too long. I know she would want you to have it. It belonged to your great-great-grandmother.” He took it from my hand and put it around my neck. It was beautiful.

  “Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to ruin it.” A tear fell down my cheek.

  “Your mother wasn’t one for much jewelry. But this was her favorite. And if you ruin it, it doesn’t diminish the love that goes with the giving. You are your mother’s daughter and you deserve to wear it when you like. I love you honey.” He then wrapped me up in his strong arms as I cried.

  I wore it for the rest of the day.

  That night Cooper laid on my bed asleep as I sat in my window sill looking out over the moon filled night in my night gown. The necklace sat on my night stand, next to a picture of Dad, and a picture of Brooke and I at Dave & Busters.

  The night looked so serene. The snow had stopped and the wind blew gently in the leafless trees. The light from the moon made the snow sparkle like diamonds and brought a smile to my face.

  Suddenly, a shadow moved across the white snow. I watched it sulk from shadow to shadow. At first I thought it was a fox, a long tail moved back and forth along the ground as the black dog body deftly leaped from spot to spot. My gaze followed it and the same feeling from the school began to intrude upon my thoughts.

  “Ah!” Cooper had jammed his nose under my hand. My heart raced. Cooper jumped up on the window sill and looked down at the backyard. I rubbed his chest while trying to calm my heart. The black dog thing had disappeared. No doubt scared off by my scream. I thought. As I continued to rub Cooper’s chest, a low rumble sprang into it. His eyes were darting around the yard, trying to track something, but it was obviously moving too fast. I watched, but couldn’t see anything.

  “What ya see, boy?” I continued to watch the backyard. “A rabbit?”

  Cooper’s head moved about then slowed, and his tongue came out panting. He licked my face, and bound off the sill and back onto the bed. I made one last look, took a deep breath, and got up. I shoved Cooper to the side, crawled under the covers and tried to fall asleep.

  I tossed fitfully around in my bed. When I peered at the clock, it read 2:30 am. Jeez, only an hour. I rolled over, put my arm around Cooper and pulled him in close. I closed my eyes and listened to Cooper’s soft breathing.

  Tap.

  I snuggled up closer to Cooper.

  Tap.

  My eyes popped open.

  Tap.

  I tried to lift my head, but it wouldn’t move.

  Tap.

  My eyes tried to look over Cooper’s head, which was lying in front of me, but I couldn’t see where I thought the sound was coming from.

  Tap, click, scraaaape.

  My heart raced. I began to panic when my body wouldn’t move. My hand shook Cooper, trying to wake him, but he just continued to snore. My eyes strained to see. A black shape came into view and moved just out of my vision before I could get a clear image of it. I felt it move around my bed. I tried to turn my head to see, but couldn’t. Goose bumps sprang to life, my heart beat faster. I was having trouble breathing. A hand moved next to my ear and it tingled. My hair moved back away from my ear; my body completely froze as did the scream on my lips. Finally, my head slowly began to roll over as if an unseen hand was gently pulling my chin, then red eyes gradually started to come into view like an eclipse finishing its run. Horrified, I…sat up and screamed!

  Cooper jumped off the bed and began barking wildly. I quickly looked around and saw nothing. My window was closed, then my door burst open and my Dad in his Pj’s rushed in.

  “You okay!?” he asked with concern.

  I tried to calm my breathing as my Dad came over, sat on my bed and rubbed my shoulders. Cooper had calmed down and pranced anxiously in front of my bed.

  I nodded. “Just a dream.”

  Dad wiped my brow with the sleeve of his jammies. “That leaves you sweating? I hope he was cute?”

  I chuckled. “Bad dream, Dad.”

  “Oh, of course. You okay?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Cooper chased him away.”

  Cooper jumped up on the bed and nuzzled my face.

  “He’s a good watch dog.” Dad rose. “I hope your dreams are better.” He said squeezing my shoulder before leaving and shutting the door.

  “I hope I don’t dream.” And continued to pet Cooper in the dark.

  Christmas day came late. I had trouble falling back to sleep and it wasn’t until ten in the morning when the aroma of fresh bread woke me up. Cooper had long ago abandoned his guard duties and I’m sure he was down stairs with dad. I walked over to my dresser, looked at my disheveled blond hair in the mirror and then absently checked my neck. When nothing appeared, I laughed to myself, pulled my blond hair into a ponytail, threw on my robe, and went downstairs.

  Dad was at the kitchen table reading his paper, steaming coffee by his side, and an empty cup next to his. He motioned to the counter where the coffee machine burped with ready coffee. A loaf of fresh bread sat next to the coffee machine. I cut two slices, grabbed the apple butter from the fridge, poured a small amount of coffee for myself and sat down.

  “Sleep any better?” Dad asked taking the offered slice of bread and generously smothering it with apple butter.

  “Yes.” I lied.

  “Good.” He flipped the paper. “We’ll head over to the Wasabi’s around four.” He pulled another package from under the table, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Dad,” I lamented as I took the multi colored wrapped paper. “Yesterday was good enough.”

  He shrugged. “Dad’s prerogative to spoil his only kid.”

  “Thank you.” The wrapping came off quickly and in my hand were two tickets to Europe. I stared at them.

  “Just don’t get picked up for the sex slave trade. Okay?” Dad said seriously.

  “We won’t even talk to anyone.” I threw my arms around him and hugged him.

  “Everyone should get to backpack around Europe. You mother and I did it for two months. That’s when I knew who I was going to spend the rest of my life with…” He choked up on the last.

  I rubbed his hand.

  “I hope you find someone to love that much, JJ. It’s worth all the pain.” He wiped his eyes.

  “I do too, Dad.” I lied again. I’ll never fall in love. Too much pain comes from it. If it weren’t for me and Cooper, I think my dad would have withered away and died shortly after my mom.

  We finished up breakfast and busied ourselves throughout the day until it was time to go over to the Wasabi’s. I wrapped the ticket again and placed it with the other gifts for Brooke and the Wasabi’s. Dad had gotten Mr. Wasabi a nice bamboo fly fishing rod; they always go during the summer, and for Mrs. Wasabi, a decorative planter for her roses. Mrs. Wasabi was an expert at growing them, she had won several local contests with her roses, and several of the local flower shops used them in their arrangements. Brooke and I usually got each other gag gifts. Last year she got me a rainbow assortment of lipstick. I almost punched her. But this year, I decided to give her a real gift. We had gone to the renaissance festival last summer in Larkspur, something Brooke always likes to do. While there, I had one of the vendors, who specialized in charcoal portraits, draw one of the two of us. Brooke had been against it, but I forced her, knowing what I wanted it for.

  “Ready?” Dad called up.

&n
bsp; “Coming.” I grabbed the presents and headed down stairs.

  Dad tossed me my keys to the Jeep. “You drive. It’s sake time!” Dad was usually a very light drinker. I think the only time he really every drank a lot was with Mr. Wasabi, and I knew it was because Mr. Wasabi made his own sake.

  “I’m not carrying you into the house.” I told him.

  He came over and gave me a hug, “You wouldn’t leave your poor old dad out in the cold?”

  “I’ll leave Cooper with you.”

  Cooper barked.

  The ride to Brooke’s house wasn’t very far. Since I lived in Littleton it was a short jaunt up Santa Fe drive to Sedalia and they lived right off the highway towards Deckers. They owned about five acres of land nestled up next to the hills. Forty minutes later, we pulled into the drive in front of their oversized ranch style house. The house had a British Tudor look, with a distinct Asian landscape that you might not have thought would have worked, but it actually worked really well. It was a beautiful house and I sometimes got jealous.

  Dad sighed. “Maybe I’ll buy a house in the mountains, when you are away at college.”

  “Then you would be a recluse. You’ll end up like Hemingway.”

  Dad shook his head. “Nope, I don’t like opium.” We laughed and walked up to the front door.

  The door popped open and Mr. Wasabi greeted us with a bow. “Come in, my friends.”

  Cooper shot past and barking echoed through the door. The Wasabis’ had a white Terrier named Ajax, and soon Mrs. Wasabi was yelling at the dogs in Japanese. Mr. Wasabi smiled as he hugged me.

  “Sorry about, Cooper.” I apologized.

  “No, no. Good to spice things up.” Mr. Wasabi said in perfect English. He ushered us in, we wiped our feet and took off our shoes. Dad had on his winter wool socks, his feet always got cold.

  I heard Mrs. Wasabi shoo the dogs outside and slide the back door shut. Brooke came sprinting around the corner from the kitchen. If I didn’t mention it before, and if you hadn’t guessed by now, Brooke was adopted. Standing next to her father, her white Eastern European features contrasted sharply with those of her parents’ Japanese heritage. Mrs. Wasabi shuffled in, a stained apron covering her clothes, and hugged us warmly. She smelled of spices and roses. In fact the house smelled of contrasting floral and cooking spices that always filled me with warmth.

  “Hang your coats, and come in. Toyo, get some drinks for our guests.” Mrs. Wasabi scolded her husband.

  Mr. Wasabi rubbed his hands. “Sake coming up.” Dad followed him halfheartedly complaining it was still too early for Sake.

  “Come on.” Brooke grabbed my hand and led me upstairs to her room.

  Just like her hair, her room was a multitude of differing blues. I always felt like I was walking into an underground glass cave surrounded by water. She had little on the walls, a few posters of teen celebrities, but they always seemed as an afterthought, like she didn’t really care about them. In fact, her room was really kind of sparse, but the few things she did have, were very shiny and bright.

  “Here.” Brooke pulled a package from under her bed.

  “What is it this year?” I asked, handing her the gifts.

  “No, you are going to like this.” She ripped open the wrapping on the tickets. Brooke squeaked with pleasure. “Europe!”

  Smiling, I opened the package, and another package was inside. So I opened it and another smaller package was inside of that. Brooke laughed as I continued through six more boxes in descending size until I came upon the last box and opened it. A blue coin was cut in two and connected to two gold necklaces. The broken friendship coin sparkled as I pulled them from the box. Brooke grabbed mine and placed it around my neck. It was cool against my skin. I in turn put Brooke’s on and then we hugged.

  “Friends for life.” She said.

  “For life.” I agreed.

  Brooke opened the picture I had made and hugged it to her. She got up, unceremoniously tore the Jonas Brothers poster down above her bed, and hung our picture there.

  While she busied herself with her project, I noticed a new picture on her dresser. I wonder over to it and as I approached a new scent tickled my nose. The picture was of two boys and Brooke.

  “When did you take this?” I said as I drew the picture to me and sniffed it.

  “What?” She said.

  “This picture, and who are these young men.” My hand smelled, but I couldn’t put my finger on the scent.

  “Oh, that’s my two cousins. Gabriel and Set. And it was taken last summer silly, when I went on vacation. Gabriel sent it to me. It came yesterday. Don’t you remember anything?” She laughed.

  “Guess not. Who names there kid Set?”

  “It’s short for Seth.”

  I still frowned. Gabriel and Set’s features were hard to distinguish in the photo. Their faces were slightly off, almost as if the camera couldn’t quite focus on them, but had no difficulty on the surrounding countryside.

  The smell from the frame became overpowering. I turned around to make sure Brooke was busy, she was fiddling with the picture, and I put the frame to my nose and took in a deep smell.

  Caramel corn. I snarled. “Okay, where you hiding it?”

  “What?” Brooke turned to look at me surprised.

  I raised my hand. “The caramel corn. I can smell it all over this picture frame.” I tapped my foot, suddenly feeling foolish. “Not that I was smelling this frame or anything. You know I love caramel corn. So where is it?”

  Brooke looked at me and her face drained of color. “What did you say?”

  “Don’t give me that? I smell caramel corn coming from this picture. Where are you hiding it?” I put the picture down and began rummaging through her room.

  Now, Brooke isn’t one given to emotional responses. I think I’ve only seen her cry twice in the four years we have known each other, so I was a little surprised when tears began running down her face as she sat down on her bed.

  “What are you doing? It’s just caramel corn.” I stared at her. “It’s not that big a deal. Well, it’s a big deal to me, because I love the stuff, but no need to cry. That is unless you ATE all of it!” I lunged at her, knocking her onto her back and crawled on top of her.

  Brooke turned her head and tears ran down her face.

  Surprised, I got off her. “What’s wrong? I couldn’t have hurt you.”

  “Nothing,” she said in between sobs.

  I pulled her up and hugged her. “Then why are you crying? I’ve never seen you cry.” I wiped away her tears. They looked blue on my hand.

  “Jennifer,” she began – she never calls me by my proper name – “I want you to know that you have been the best friend I’ve ever had. And I will do anything to protect you.”

  I laughed. “Protect me from what? I don’t even have a boyfriend.” I rubbed her back.

  She laughed, and wiped her nose. “Just know I will be there for you. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about, okay?” I stood. “Let’s go find our dads’, they are probably already halfway to la la land and you better not have eaten all the caramel corn.”

  Brooke smiled.

  The rest of the day was perfect. Mrs. Wasabi made a great stir fried meal that I couldn’t eat enough of and Mr. Wasabi and Dad were in happy land. We sat in front of the fire place. Brooke and I ate the pumpkin pie smothered in heavy whipped cream while we listened to Dad and Mr. Wasabi try and sing Christmas songs. The dogs howled. Mrs. Wasabi paid no attention to her husband or Dad, and talked with Brooke and I about how she was going to incorporate the new planter into the yard.

  Later that evening, around one thirty in the morning, we said our goodbyes and I helped Dad into the jeep. He flopped in, while Cooper jumped in back, and smacked Dad in the face with his tail. He didn’t notice, and Dad began snoring in earnest.

  “You going to be alright?” Brooke asked.

  “Yeah, he’ll be okay by the time we get home. If not I’ll
leave Cooper with him to keep him warm.” I shut the door. “Are you okay?”

  A sad look came to her eyes, but she smiled. “Yes. Don’t forget about New Year’s Eve. My cousin’s plane comes in that afternoon, so we can still go downtown.” Brooke said.

  “Sounds great. Thank you for the gift.”

  Brooke squeezed my hand. “Best friends.”

  “Best friends.” I started the jeep and drove off.

  The road was clear and I only passed one car before turning onto Santa Fe Drive. I shook my head at Brooke’s sudden break down and wondered what that was about. I lifted my hand and the faint smell of caramel corn still remained. It smelled so good. But Brooke never did reveal her secret stash. Immersed in my thoughts of caramel corn, a white out suddenly started in front of me. I felt the force of the wind against the jeep, pushing it to the side. I slowed and turned on the overhead lights and the snow lit up. I leaned forward to try and get a better view, but it was useless, the white out was complete. The jeep crept along and I hoped that I didn’t get rear ended. Coloradoans were a strange bunch, despite living with the snow, you’d think they never seen it before with the way they drive from year to year. I strained to see any red lights, when Cooper started to move back and forth in the back seat. He began to whimper as he tried to force his nose out the side windows.

  “Cooper, settle down.” I told him.

  Then as the wind rattled the soft top of my jeep, Cooper’s whimpering grew in volume. A deep chopping sound of the air reached my ears and I strained to see out the front window. The sound reminded me of a helicopter rotor chopping the air, but not with the same steady tempo. I slowed the jeep even more, just in case there was an accident ahead of me.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared on the road in front of my jeep. I slammed on the breaks and the jeep started to slide. I turned the wheel and the jeep began its three hundred and sixty degree dance around the figure. Time slowed to a crawl. Fixated on the figure in front of me, my mind couldn’t wrap itself around the image of the red eyes staring back at me through my front windshield. When the lights of the jeep reached nighty degrees from the figure in the road, lightning lit up the whiteout and briefly illuminated a large shape. Then everything was loss to the darkness as my jeep finished its three hundred and sixty degree turn and slid to a halt.