“Liam Morgan. I work as an arson investigator for the state.” He flashes a smile and his teeth are a lot whiter and straighter than mine. As the sixth kid, I wasn’t exactly top priority for braces. “At least, that’s what it says on my badge.”
My flashlight glints off his laminated badge as he holds it up. Cheeky bastard. I haven’t worked with a lot of the guys on the science side of law enforcement before, but it’s nice to know at least one of them has the balls to give a cop shit.
Introductions made, I step over the crispy critters at my feet like a damn ballerina during a recital and stick my landing right in front of Mr. Morgan. Nice. If he notices the fact that I have all the grace of… Well, of a burnt bull, he doesn’t say anything about it.
Standing in normal people range of him I can see his features better. His black hair is a little longer than what I’m used to, and tied back in a way that shouldn’t really ever be in style, but it suits him fine. His face is made up of sharp angles; his jaw alone could probably cut glass. And his eyes aren’t really a color. They’re like an absence of color. Not black, but grey, like ash. Apparently he’s in the right profession.
“So you’re thinking there’s been some foul play?”
Morgan looks around the barn. He doesn’t seem to need a flashlight. I can see his eyes picking out little details I probably missed. But this is why I’m a uniform cop and he’s a scientist, I guess.
“It’s difficult to say for certain at this point, but it does seem suspicious. I overheard Officer Leroux talking to the land-owner, Mr. Morris. He mentioned a longstanding feud between his family and a competitor about a half mile from here.”
“So, what? Modern day cattle rustling is just burning the whole barn down with the cows in it? Seems counter-productive.”
Morgan starts making his way through the debris. He doesn’t seem nearly as affected by it as I am. He’s cool as a cucumber. Which makes sense, because I realize he’s not wearing a jacket. Just a button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up and a pair of slacks. Maybe the part of his brain that’s supposed to be a little creeped out by stuff like this is just frozen.
“Not if you just want to cripple your competitor’s business,” he says, and I have to give him that.
Standing back with my flashlight pointing uselessly at the spots he looks at, I just hope he’s wrong so I can wrap this up quick.
Chapter Two
-Liam-
All I can smell is sulfur.
It hit me as soon as I stepped out of my car and onto the newly barren ground. It’s barely noticeable to humans. Just the faint hint of something rotten in the area. But as soon as I set foot on the site, it burns my nostrils and makes my eyes water.
There’s no doubt in my mind this whole place was scorched by dragon fire.
And that is a problem.
Humans aren’t aware of our existence yet. As far as I’m concerned, it’s best if they never learn about us. Even if they’ve accepted other types of shifters, wolves and bears aren’t the same as two-ton behemoths capable of razing whole civilizations.
So now as I investigate the barn, I have to pretend I’m seeing things I’m not. As I crouch and fuss over this and that, I have to hope my officer friend doesn’t have formal training in fire science. Because to him, this probably just looks like an accident. There’s no clear start point. No sign of accelerant of any kind. It looks like the wind shifted and a controlled fire became much less controlled during the night.
But I know better.
I could let him continue thinking this is an accident, but over the past three hundred years, I’ve made it my duty to protect humans from dragon fire. He needs to know this could happen again.
But he doesn’t need to know that stepping into this barn feels like a living memory for me.
The placement of the corpses, the way the debris falls over them—I’ve seen this before. I swear I can hear the panicked cries of the cattle, and it’s leaving me a little ill.
Worst of all, I don’t remember falling asleep last night.
I remember sitting at my desk with my laptop propped open. I remember the glare of the screen was giving me a headache. I’d had a glass of port, but nothing more than that. And yet I genuinely can’t remember dragging myself off to bed. The next thing I knew, moonlight was streaming in through my window and my boss was trying to reach me on my cell.
To tell me about this fire.
So yes, I’m uneasy. The human might not be able to sense it, but it coils through me like an endless length of rope wrapping around my insides. It’s not helped by the fact that I saw the massive trenches rent by claws outside, either. Or the fact that this place looks, smells, and sounds familiar. Like I’ve been here before.
Possibly as recent as last night.
A flash of heat rushes through my body as the slumbering beast inside of me rouses. He’s been testy lately. Quick to anger. There are times at work where I’ve had to come up with a creative excuse as to why my co-workers have sometimes heard the click click click of something deep inside of me striking together to make a spark.
The last time he was like this, I blacked out for a week and when I woke up, I was naked in the middle of the smoldering ruins of a town.
I’m not going to let that happen again.
“Find anything?” The cop asks.
In my rising panic, I haven’t really looked at him. I remedy that now. He’s still by the entrance, seeming eager to leave. I wish I could just tell him there’s nothing here; no need to keep this case open. But it’s best for everyone if I tell the truth. At least a partial version of it.
“A few things,” I say, running my finger over a smear of soot. “Nothing conclusive enough to show at trial just yet, but enough to keep the case open on suspicion.”
I can practically feel him tense. He’s a handsome man, from what my frantic mind can process right now. That frown now etched into his features doesn’t do him justice. I can tell he wants to say something. Maybe even to challenge me. So I do something I told myself I wouldn’t: I let the dragon take over.
It’s subtle. Very subtle. I approach him in a slow, confident way. I never break eye contact with him. I pin him in place with my gaze and he looks up at me as if he’s in a trance. Dragons have always had this kind of sway over humans. It’s just an innate understanding of the human condition and how to manipulate it. There’s nothing magical about it, unless one considers psychology magic.
For a moment as I look at him, at his green eyes that compliment his russet hair, I see a strength flickering beneath his features. A quiet defiance. It makes my dragon trill, but thankfully the sound is buried somewhere deep inside of me, and I’m able to focus just as Officer McKenna loses his.
He doesn’t break eye contact, but he does tilt his neck just so. I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it. Unfortunately my dragon takes notice, feasting on the column of flesh put on display before our eyes. I suppress a shudder as heat flares through my body. This is a fine time for my primal side to remind me I haven’t fucked anyone in ages.
“I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry,” McKenna says, partly because I put the thought there and partly because he seems uncomfortable having me this close. Though he’s not moving away.
“I’ll have my report typed up and sent to your sheriff this afternoon. Thank you for letting me take a look at the site, Officer McKenna.”
“Like I had a choice,” I hear him mutter as I leave, and my lips quirk into a smile.
McKenna is that fish that thrashes on the end of the line, fighting tirelessly against the inevitable. Thankfully for him, I’m not going to be holding the pole much longer.
Heading down the small, sloping hill, I cram myself into my car and pull my phone from the console. I thumb through my contacts until I find Owen, and tap the green call button before turning it on speaker. Setting the phone back in the console, I turn the key in the ignition as I wait for him to answer.
“You at th
e site they called in last night?”
He doesn’t waste any time. We’re friends—maybe even best friends—but we’ve known each other for hundreds of years. ‘Hello, how are you’ feels trivial now. And like me, Owen has a radio tuned to the police frequency. It’s how I found out about the fire, and how I suggested the chief send me here.
“I just saw it.”
“What’s the verdict?”
I sigh, raking my hand through my hair. There may not be any pretense between us, but I still don’t like admitting I need help. “Bring Ivan and meet me at The Top at 9.”
About the Author: Wolf Specter
Maine's North Woods are home to mighty moose, wily red foxes, and Wolf Specter. Growing up, Wolf believed there was a ghost in his attic. To this day, he still believes that ghost creeps out of the shadows from time to time. He wishes it would say hello.
Wolf's stories explore the complicated, sensual bonds between men. There are always happy endings just as there is always a dash of otherworldly delight.
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About the Author: Angel Knots
Angel Knots is the pen name of a rabid Omegaverse fan who also happens to be a writer.
In real life, Angel goes by another name and pens contemporary gay romance stories when she's not chasing after the two small humans she spawned during the last decade.
She knows that the fans of her contemporary books may not appreciate knotting, soul-bonds, and male impregnation as much as she does, so with the flick of a pen she created a new identity and happily started filling blank pages with stories of men who are more than they seem and the fated mates they are destined for.
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Scorch: M/M Gay Shifter Mpreg Romance (Dragon's Destiny: Fated Mates Book 2) Page 18