by Lori Whyte
"Oh, Laughlin, is that really you?"
Oh, God, that was her Aunt Trixy. Jasmine froze. What was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to leave home for another three weeks. That was the plan.
"Hush, Trixy," he said. "What's going on?"
What the hell? It sounded like he knew Trixy. No, that couldn't be right.
"It's happened again, Laughlin. I need your help."
Laughlin took a deep breath. It must have been a doozy because Jasmine could hear it all the way outside. "Tell me everything."
"My girl has been getting hunted down by dragons. You saved her last time. Please. Help me—help us—again."
Jasmine's heart hammered in her chest. What were they talking about? There wasn't a last time. Was there? A shiver coursed over her like icy fingers sliding over her spine.
"Oh, God, I never even realized…"
"What? You know something, don't you?"
"She's safe," Laughlin said. "She's here."
"I've got to see her. I've got to…"
Jasmine lost the conversation when the light went out. They'd left the room. She hit the back of her head against the wall in frustration. She couldn't leave now. She dropped her bag and stepped out of the shrubs. She brushed off the few leaves that clung to her pants.
This was only a temporary delay. There would be another opportunity to leave. And this time she'd take her aunt too.
She followed a crushed gravel pathway to the front door. She tried the door handle, and it gave. Thank God. She didn't want to have to ring the doorbell and be greeted by a troop of dragons.
Bright lights blinded her as she slipped inside the foyer. She stepped behind one of the pillars that framed the entrance to let her eyes adjust. How was she going to get back into her room unnoticed? There had to be at least eight men guarding her door, so it wasn't going to be easy.
She froze when Gabby's silky laughter tittered through the room. Oh, God. She'd been caught, by Gabby of all people. Jasmine winced and waited, but the blonde didn't come. Jasmine peeked around the column to see Gabby tug Maryk into the parlor. The door clicked shut.
Huh. What was she playing at?
Jasmine stepped out of her hiding spot and tiptoed across the polished marble floor to the stairs.
"Jasmine!"
She spun around to see Trixy's little body barreling toward her. Her head was a wild nest of artificially red hair. Jasmine could well imagine how many times she'd run her hand through her short style. And with each step, metal clanged. She'd come to dragon country well-armed and ready to rumble. At the sight of her, Laughlin's gaze darted toward the stairs. Confusion creased his brow.
"Aunty," Jasmine said. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to find you," her aunt said as she pulled her into a bear hug. "When the newspapers and TV shows quit announcing your disappearance I knew something had happened. I knew…"
Jasmine sank into the familiar embrace. This was the woman who'd always been there to soothe her scraped knees or braid her hair. She felt like home.
But all this time she'd been harboring a secret, and Jasmine needed to know what it was.
***
When Ansyn and his compatriots left the meeting room, Kylan stayed behind while Dillon escorted them out. Kylan listened. They didn't debate why they were being led to the door on the other side of the building.
He purposely unclenched his hands before he punched something. Ansyn was more bluster than common sense, although he had managed to evade Kylan's questions about Maryk's sudden recovery. Unfortunately the younger heir had snuck out before that. Maryk tended to show his emotions on his face, which was a terrible trait in a dignitary. Where had the miscreant gone?
At least he couldn't get close to Jasmine, not without a battle.
Just the thought of Jasmine upstairs, waiting for them, made Kylan's pulse kick up. Oh, the things they were going to do tonight…
Dillon entered the room without knocking, a privilege of his position in the house. If his primary was concerned about the encounter with the Kelvin clan, he'd hear about it soon enough, but Dillon moved calmly through the room to the chair on the opposite side of Kylan's wide mahogany desk. He and Dillon could do wickedly satisfying things to their mate on this desk. They might need to experiment in each room, come to think of it.
"Do you think they'll cause trouble?"
Dillon's question roused him from his illicit daydream. He blinked to clear his head. It was dangerous to be distracted when so much of the clan's health and prosperity was a direct result of his leadership. "No more than usual."
"That's my impression too." Dillon nodded.
A loud and urgent rap on the door had them both turning.
"Enter," Kylan said as he stood from his desk.
Had their unwelcome guests caused problems? What was going on? Dillon was already on his feet and halfway to the door when Garryck, the commander of his outer guard, and Ryder, his primary, entered. Jasmine's backpack was in Garryck's hand. It was covered in dirt and had clumps of bark mulch clinging to it.
"Sir," his commander said, "we found this outside."
Red panic shot over Kylan. He inhaled quickly. The scents were clear. Jasmine had been one of the last people to touch the bag. Sonofabitch. His heart felt like it'd been ripped from his body.
"Where is she?" Dillon asked. Instant desperation hung thick in the air.
Garryck shook his head. "We didn't see her. I came in directly. The others are following her scent."
"So she was outside?"
"Yes, sir."
Curses fell from Dillon's mouth in a deluge. He and Kylan raced down the hallway to the main foyer. It was the closest route to the outside. When Dillon had ushered out the Kelvin clan earlier, he'd deliberately taken them through the back door, keeping them as far away from Jasmine as possible. It'd all been for naught. Somehow they'd gotten to her. Had they convinced her to leave? Had they threatened her? Had they kidnapped her? Or had she simply decided to run again?
Even as he asked himself those questions he knew the answer. She was running again. But why now? She'd had other, better opportunities to run, but she hadn't. Why would she choose now when the enemy was under their roof?
She had to have known she was putting herself at risk.
Why couldn't she understand that she was safer here than anywhere else? Damn it. If the Kelvin clan so much as laid a finger on her…
They poured into the foyer and stuttered to a halt when they saw Jasmine embracing an older redheaded woman. Relief swept over him. All he wanted to do was whisk her up those steps to their room and check her all over.
Upon hearing them enter, the older woman twirled around and grabbed for the knives at her waist. What the hell? Kylan blinked to confirm if he was seeing things correctly.
"Take one, Jasmine," the strange woman urged, "the short sword is at my back."
"Stop," Laughlin said. "These aren't the enemy."
The woman braced her arms, but didn't lower her weapons. She held them with confidence and ease. This little woman, in her pink velour leisure suit, could do damage if she put her mind to it.
Jasmine stepped forward. "Um, Aunty?"
"You go, dear. I'll head them off."
"No, you don't understand. These are the dragons who saved me." Jasmine looked at them then and waved toward the woman at her side. "Meet my Aunt Trixy."
Chapter 17
Jasmine held her breath as she gauged Kylan and Dillon's reaction to meeting her spitfire aunt. She wanted to blurt out all the questions she had about her aunt knowing Laughlin, but now was not the best moment. There were too many witnesses, and Jasmine wasn't sure she was going to like the answers.
"Welcome!" Dillon grinned at Trixy, who still hadn't lowered her weapons.
Laughlin stepped forward and extended his hand. "Give me the knives or we'll take them from you."
"As if." Her aunt snorted, but under threat of being disarmed, she holstered them in her custom leather
belt.
Jasmine exhaled quietly. "I guess we should talk."
Trixy made no effort to hide her visual evaluation of the two dragons. The auditor of Jasmine's accounts last spring hadn't taken as much care or attention. "Who are you?"
Kylan raised his eyebrows. Few people would talk to him with such imperiousness.
"This is Kylan, Dillon, and I believe you already know Laughlin." Jasmine motioned toward each of the men.
At her reference to Laughlin, Trixy's mouth dropped in surprise. "I don't know what you mean."
"Let's go to the dining room to talk," Dillon said. "Maybe we can have some of that delicious looking cake you made earlier."
"It's upstairs, I'll just—"
Laughlin snapped his fingers, and suddenly one of the guards who'd followed Kylan and Dillon into the foyer was running up the stairs, presumably to fetch the cake.
"This way, ladies," Laughlin said with a smile as he guided them down the hall. Perhaps he hadn't completely surrendered his role as leader within the clan.
Just as they had settled at one end of the long table, the guard returned with the dessert. Laughlin offered Jasmine the cake knife. As she stood to slice the chocolate layer cake, plates and cutlery arrived in front of her. Dillon licked his lips as he eyed the first piece.
She dished it up and passed it to him. If he reacted that way to everything she made, she'd gladly stay here and bake for him forever just to see the pleasure on his face when he tasted her sweets. Well…maybe not just that look. The look he and Kylan had in the bedroom earlier was pretty awesome too.
Dillon grinned as he dug his fork into the spongy wedge. He inhaled, then he froze.
"What is this?" His nostrils flared as he twisted his head away.
"Chocolate cake, why?"
"No." He shook his head. He shoved his cake to Kylan. "Smell this."
Kylan cursed. "Dragon's Tears."
"What's that? I don't understand…" Jasmine glanced between the dragons. "You don't mean the drug, do you?" She didn't know much about drugs, but she wasn't completely stupid. According to the news, Dragon's Tears was a drug favored by women because it was supposed to make them feel young and beautiful.
Trixy gasped. "No, it can't be."
"That's exactly what I mean," Kylan said. "Where did you make this? Who had access to it?"
Jasmine's jaw worked up and down twice before the thoughts in her head made coherent sense and could be sent to her tongue. "I used the ingredients in the kitchen. The cake was in there all afternoon, until Gabby brought—"
"Gabby touched this?" Kylan's question was punctuated with a growl. He turned to Dillon and the two men who'd arrived with them. "Guard them while I find her."
"She's in the parlor with Maryk." Jasmine's sentence ended on a squeak when all eyes turned to her.
"She's meeting with one of the Kelvin clan? In our own home?" Dillon's lips curled back, exposing his teeth. "Sonofabitch."
Kylan charged out of the room. His heavy footsteps boomed through the sudden quiet as he rushed down the hall. A moment later, his roar broke through the air.
"Damn it," Dillon said. "They've escaped."
When Kylan returned, he looked at Laughlin. "Empty the food stores. We can't be sure what has been contaminated. They may have tainted our supplies with more than just Dragon's Tears."
Laughlin's eyes flashed golden yellow. Jasmine's heart stuttered in her chest. There was something familiar about that distinctive color… She'd seen it in her nightmares for years.
"It was you…" Her hand shook wildly as she pointed at him. "You hunted me through the forest when I was a little girl."
At her words, Dillon surged toward his former chief. His eyes blazed. A shot of bright green fire curled over his lips.
"Stop!" Jasmine's aunt threw herself in front of Laughlin.
When Dillon grabbed her aunt's plump arms to thrust her aside, Laughlin roared and lunged forward. His own dragon shone through his eyes. Jasmine froze at the shockingly vivid citrus color. Her worst fear had come to life. She clutched her stomach where the bite of the dragon's talon usually sank into her flesh.
"It's not what you think," Trixy shouted. "Listen to me."
Kylan rested a hand on Dillon's back to stay him.
"He doesn't deny it," Dillon said.
"We'll assess the punishment, but not yet." Kylan's steely tone detonated over them. It seemed he was only a breath away from ripping his father apart himself.
Dillon bared his teeth, but stayed in his place.
Laughlin's attention shifted to her. Fear clung to her like bread dough. Run. Hide. But she was stuck. Just like she always was.
She wobbled and reached for her forehead. Sweat spilled down her face.
"I—"
Her ears rang and her vision narrowed. A shadow rushed toward her. Dillon. His soothing scent cascaded over her, filling her with hope. He would protect her. She collapsed into his arms.
Everything shifted then. He was carrying her. Not far. Two steps. Maybe three. Then he gently lowered her to a chair.
"Oh, God. What happened?" he asked. "What is the matter with her?"
Jasmine tried to blink. Nothing happened. She had to get control of herself.
Another blurry figure joined Dillon.
"Jasmine? Come on, little one," Kylan whispered as he brushed the hair from her sweat-slick face.
"Move over," Trixy said. Then a sharp biting pain whipped across Jasmine's face. The slap vibrated through her.
Jasmine gasped as her vision cleared.
Kylan yanked her aunt away as Dillon roared.
Jasmine rubbed her cheek. "Ow…"
Dillon's growl deepened.
"You were in shock, my dear. Now call off your dragons so we can chat."
This time Kylan's rumbling snarl joined with Dillon's. Kylan motioned to a guard standing off to the side.
"Take Laughlin and this woman away," Kylan said. "We'll deal with them later."
"No," Jasmine said quickly. She reached for Kylan's hand. "I'll be okay. Honestly…" She turned to her aunt, whose chin was jutting up at a defiant angle. "But I need you to tell me what the hell is going on."
"Speak," Kylan commanded Trixy.
Trixy ignored Kylan and studied Jasmine. "Are you okay, dear? Should we go sit somewhere softer and have a cup of tea?"
"No," Dillon said. "Say what you will, here and now."
Trixy sighed and perched her little body on a big oversized chair across the table from Jasmine. She clenched her hands in front of her.
"Sit down, already," Trixy said to the dragons. "This is a long story."
They bristled at the order. None of them complied, but Kylan and Dillon moved to stand at Jasmine's side. Dillon placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
Jasmine took a deep breath. "You've known about my nightmares for all of these years and you never said anything. It was real, wasn't it?"
"Yes." Trixy's steady gaze locked on Jasmine's. "What do you remember about your mother, honey?"
"You are precious, Jasmine. A true treasure."
"She used to tell me stories about dragons." Jasmine shrugged. "I don't know. I remember a lot of things. What do you want me to remember?"
"Your mother was an addict. She was hooked on Dragon's Tears."
"What? No, she couldn't have been…"
"It's true," Laughlin said. "She showed up with—"
Trixy patted him on the hand. "Just wait. I'm not there yet."
But something in what they were saying triggered a series of images that tumbled through Jasmine's mind. "Oh, God. She brought me here, didn't she?"
"When she heard there was a ski resort called Flight of the Dragon, she believed that was where she would finally meet dragons. You see, back then, no one believed dragons existed. Sure, we heard about Dragon's Tears, but everyone thought they were a chemical concoction." Trixy rubbed her forehead. "But even then, Donna was convinced that the drug came from r
eal dragons. She was obsessed with staying young and she was sure that if she could find a dragon, she would have her own fountain of youth at her fingertips."
"Don't I look pretty today? My skin is almost as soft as yours, isn't it? And soon it'll be even softer." Her mother's laughter bubbled through the air.
Jasmine closed her hands around the armrest. "Why was I in the woods?"
Trixy swallowed and reached her hand across the table toward Jasmine, but Jasmine ignored it. "Oh, honey, we don't have to talk about all of this, do we?"
"She's a treasure. Don't you like treasure?"
"Oh, God…" Her stomach rolled. "She tried to give me away, didn't she? She wanted to give me to dragons in exchange for a steady source of the drug…"
No one moved at Jasmine's realization. Her gaze darted from Trixy to Laughlin. His eyes softened and he nodded slightly.
"It is lucky that she found us and not another clan," Laughlin said.
"Come on, Jasmine, we have to hurry. Fix your hair. Pinch your cheeks. Yes, just like that. You are such a pretty girl. Just like your mama. A treasure."
"But that man said the ski lessons were over there," Jasmine pointed to the steep mountain behind them.
"Something else has come up, honey. You are going to be so excited. We get to meet a real dragon today. You'll like that, won't you?"
Jasmine tilted her head and studied her mother. "Dragons are only in fairy tales. Aunty Trixy says so."
Her mother shook her head. "She is wrong, but it is going to be our secret. Only really special people get to talk to dragons."
"Will I get to ride on one?" Jasmine looked up. Big fat clouds dotted the blue sky.
"If you ask nicely, I'm sure you can."
"Can we go through a cloud?"
"Of course, honey." Her mother smeared on a layer of coral lipstick, then smoothed her eyebrows with her finger.
Their boots squeaked as they walked over the packed snow to an old stone building. At home Jasmine had seen the first tulip coming up in her neighbor's yard, but it didn't seem like spring here. She tucked her nose into her scarf and wished dragons could live some place warmer.
Her mother led her up the steps to a door. Jasmine glanced at the sign over the threshold. The words "George's Hotel" were painted over a picture of a man with a sword fighting a dragon. Jasmine smiled. She knew that story. Although her mother had said it was wrong, that a man could never kill a dragon.