Lincoln_The Manning Dragons_Erotic Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance

by Kathi S. Barton

  “Am I in the will?” He didn’t answer him, but even that was telling enough. “The son of a bitch took me out, didn’t he?”

  “Your mother inherited everything, since he died first. And yes, before you ask, there was a will for her as well. And again, once it’s to be read, if you are in it, then you will be notified.” He laughed a little and then spoke again. “Good day to you, Mr. Conrad. It’s been a pleasure working with your family.”

  Then the line went dead. Like his father had done to him, the fucking little shit had cut him off. Walton had no idea what his mother would have done, but he could almost see his father standing over her while she signed where she was told. And there would be nothing in her will for him either. What a wonderful family he had.

  Now he had to come up with a plan to make some cash so that he and little Walton could get out of the country. He was going to get his son, even if he had to kidnap him. As he sat there, thinking about that plan, something else occurred to him. Ginger would be able to get some cash from her sister.

  Walton had read about how Grace was this big rising star when it came to some art shit. He supposed it was painting, since there was a big one right behind her in the picture. Another thing that no one had told him, Grace was the same as Ginger by looks. He could have had the stupid artist if he’d known, and there wouldn’t have been any kid to be driving him crazy.

  When he’d spotted Ginger a few years ago, she’d been working in a doctor’s office. He’d taken one of his buddies there to get stitches removed or something. Anyway, she’d made him an appointment and then set him up with paperwork so that he could use her boss as his family doctor. There wasn’t a damned thing wrong with him, but he wanted to see her again and again.

  After three months of him coming in to see her all the time, she told him that she didn’t want him coming into her place of business. He’d yet to get an address or phone number from her—she’d been real cagey about both.

  But he was persistent, and he finally figured out where she lived by following her a few times. Even in that she was slick, not going directly to her home but stopping about a thousand places until she got there. He’d usually get bored with her shopping and leave. That was the only reason it took him so long to find her.

  But she called the cops on him when he came to see her. That was when he found out Ginger had that kid. It took him another two weeks to get her to his house. That had been the most difficult time he’d had. The cops were all over her place, and the kid was always with her. He’d not meant to take it at all, but that was the only way. And because he’d been so pissed, he’d raped her hard and knew that he’d hurt her badly.

  He’d not been able to take her to a regular doctor, but to see a friend of his that had almost graduated from college with a degree in animals. Something to do with them breeding; hell, he didn’t know. Anyway, he gave her something for pain and she slept a lot and he had to deal with the brat.

  Then she found his dragon.

  Having her around wasn’t so bad after that. A few times he had thought that the dragon had eaten her. Or crushed her. Whenever she was missing for a couple days he had been thrilled about it. Then she’d turn up and he’d have to deal with her all over. Knocking her around didn’t give him any satisfaction either—she would just stare at him without saying a single word. Fucking little shit.

  As the days wore on and her mom got better, he saw less and less of the kid. He knew that Ginger was hiding her from him, and usually he’d not care. But when he wanted to bring Ginger in line for something, he used the brat to do it. Like letting him near her to fuck her.

  She would fight him like he was going to hurt her. The least she could do was to put out since he was housing her and the kid and feeding them every day. But she fought every single time, and instead of getting old and turning him off, it did the opposite. That got to be so much fun that he wanted to fuck her nightly. And he did.

  Then she told him she was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how it hadn’t happened sooner. The way he went after her, she should have been carrying his kid long before that. So, he figured that she’d done something before, and he tied her to the bed and then to the kitchen table when he was gone. She damned well wouldn’t hurt that one.

  Things had been going okay until the dragon got away and she lied to him about the baby’s sex. That was when he decided to take care of his problem and kill them both. But that bitch in the mountain had interfered and he’d been arrested. Things went to shit after that.

  Now here he was, in a cheap hotel trying to figure out what the fuck his father had done to him with the will. And if it was true about his mom inheriting everything, he had a feeling he was just as screwed that way too. While she might have loved him—who knew really, the way she acted all the time—she never went against his father.

  “Well she did, didn’t she? Cut his throat right open.” He could laugh about it now, but when she’d done it, he could have sworn that she would go after him next. Then she’d cut her own instead.

  The sound of screaming tires had him looking out the window. The four cruisers that he could see made him tense up, but not for long. Gathering all his shit, which wasn’t that much, he made his way to the back of the room and out the window. Since he had figured this may happen, someone noticing him and calling in the cops, he’d made a getaway bag of things from the breakfast bar in the hotel, as well as some of their towels and toiletries. Also, he’d taken out the glass window.

  He hit the ground running, grabbing the bag that he’d stolen a couple days ago as he ran to the woods. There wasn’t much back here, and with all the foliage, he was able to hide well up within the trees. Twice the cops walked right by him, and both times he’d had to hold his breath. Knowing his area, like the forest behind the hotel, had just saved his ass.

  While he was up there, he thought about what the hell he was going to do now. He needed cash, enough of it to get out of the country with an infant. Then he had to get little Walton and flee. Walton knew enough people that he could easily get out of the United States, but with a little kid, he hadn’t any idea how to make that work.

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  He had to get cash, and now, that was not only going to buy him passage, but grease a few palms while he was hiding. Walton had a feeling that Mr. Taylor had kept him on the phone just long enough for him to get into trouble with the cops.

  First things first. Get Ginger and his son so that he could ransom Ginger back to her sister for a tidy sum. How much that would be he was still working out, but it would be great sum, worthy of a famous or semi-famous painter.

  ~~~

  Xavier looked at the three paintings that she had finished; well, at least those others knew about. One was of the wooded area behind their house with a mountain rising out of the trees. The second was of the lazy creek she’d encountered while walking in the forest one afternoon. And the final piece, which had been a work in progress of the castle that kept coming back to her, was finished finally.

  The dragon had given her fits. She wanted it to look like one of the Manning men. She’d seen them all two nights ago when it had been raining and they went flying, and thought he’d be perfect for the setting. But Muse had other plans, apparently, and she had to let herself paint him the way he had said. And it turned out beautifully.

  “This one is my favorite. Do you know where that castle is?” She said in her mind. “No, it’s in Scotland. Lincoln owns it. Well, I guess you both do now. Did he tell you about it? Because you have it dead on from when I was there last. Even the drawbridge is perfect, with the design of the wood to make it look like the rest of the area.”

  “I’ve never seen the castle, but I knew that he had one.” Xavier kept staring at it. “I wanted to see if they look all right for the next showing, because I don’t want to go down this path if you think they’re wrong.”

  “I think they’re perfect. And I’d like to buy this one. No matter the
price.” She told him he could have it if it didn’t sell. “Oh, it will. I bet it’ll be the first that does if you don’t let me buy it. If Garrett knows his stuff, which he does, then he’ll be using this as a teaser on the flyers that go out.”

  “I have more.” He turned and looked at her. “I’ve never seen a castle before. Ever. And suddenly, I’m painting medieval times with men in armor and dragons instead of horses. But the others, they’re the same kind. I don’t know why I painted them. But if you…I have some more.”

  “May I see them?” She wasn’t sure that she wanted him to. She’d not shown them to anyone but Benson, and he’d told her they were good pieces. He wasn’t much of a talker, that one. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want others to see them. I think you’re wrong for not showing off your talent, but I’ll abide by your wishes.”

  “It’s not that.” She asked him to follow her. “I’m glad that I have this canvas stretcher. I don’t think I could have afforded a piece as large as this one is. And the fact that I’ve had to paint it while it’s on the floor makes me think that it’s all wrong. I’m babbling because I don’t want you to tell me that it sucks.”

  “I’d be nicer about it than that, I’d hope.” She pushed open the door to the large part of the barn that wasn’t being used right now. There, lying on the floor, was her painting. “Holy Christ, Grace, it’s magnificent.”

  There was another castle in the far left of the painting. It was still large in the scene, mostly because of the size of the canvas. But it was what was in the foreground that she was worried about. The men on horses, while several dragons, all different hues of blue, were just behind them. They were all looking up at the large dragon in the sky. A silver one that made her think of stars during midnight. Instead of looking at the painting again, she watched Xavier’s face as he talked about what he was feeling and seeing.

  “It’s a cold morning, I can actually see the breath of the horses. And the dragons, warm-blooded as they are, the fog coming up off their bodies, are making a rain cloud just above them. These horses look like they could leap right out of the canvas, they’re so realistic. They’re simply beautiful in their stance and coloring. You have the muscle tone perfect for what sort of horses they are, as if they’d been carrying a great deal of weight for a long time.” She asked if they looked like real horses. “Yes. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

  “No. I mean, we, for the most part, lived in the city. Apartments. There was barely enough room around the area to have dirt that we could play in.” Xavier turned and looked at her. “I’ve most definitely never laid eyes on a man in this sort of uniform. But I could see them, each with their full armor on and their faces muddy with blood and dirt. And the swords that they carried. They couldn’t be dull with just a single blade that ran into the scabbard either. They needed to be marked. And what the markings mean I have no idea, but that was what I saw on them.”

  He stared at her for several minutes, and she thought for sure that he was trying to think of a way to tell her that she had it all wrong. That she was better off hiding this one. There wasn’t any way that she was going to show him the others, not after he told her what a crappy painter she was.

  “It’s dragon. The words say, ‘Death to all that rise up against the dragons of our clan. Long life to those who sacrifice themselves to serve the king of dragons.’ You got every letter right, and it’s beautiful.” He looked at the painting again. “No human can speak the language you have there. Not even to write it out like you have.”

  She laughed, and he asked what was so funny. “The title of the painting. I had no idea what that said there, but the name of the painting is King of Dragons.”

  “Have you told anyone about this, love?” She told him that she’d only shown him. “This will go for big bucks, but you have to get permission from Cooper to sell it. I’m going to tell you that he’ll want to buy it, simply because it’s that good. Tell him that you want to display it at the show, but no one will get it but him if he offers you a good price. What else do you have? I know you have more. Where are they?”

  “They’re here too.” She turned on all the lights and he wandered around the room. She didn’t move this time, standing where she was while he took them in. “They’re the battle after this scene here. Again, I don’t know where this came from, but it was like I was possessed, and had to paint it. The blood…there is so much of it in the last one that it took me several days to get it right. It was as if Muse had been there and he wanted the story told.”

  “Have you ever had this happen to you before? When the muse wanted you to paint something so badly?” She told him not as hard, no. “So, since you came here, you’ve been painting this sort of venue? The medieval times.”

  “Yes. I don’t even read that sort of books.” He turned to her and smiled. It scared her a little. Like he’d figured it out and was going to tease her with his information. “What? What is going on?”

  “You are being guided by your muse, who is now a dragon, I think. I mean, it stands to reason that since we can never change you into one, that you’d have something that would be there with you all the time. And in this, your dragon is your muse now, and he’s telling you his story.” She asked how he’d come to that. “Because he’s dead. See? This painting right here, the silver dragon has been slain. And he is the one guiding you to paint what you really have no knowledge of. It’s the only way to explain that you could have known those words and that they were on the sword of the king that my father served. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve called my brothers here. They’ll want to see this too.”

  “Tell them not to be mean to me, please.” Xavier hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. It was what they all did to her. It was very sweet. But it made her no less afraid of what the others might say to her.

  “Garrett is here too. He came to see Lucas on another matter, and he’s with him. They’re bringing up the rear.” She nodded, thinking that she might as well get it over with about him telling her that it wasn’t want he wanted. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. These are going to be great.”

  Lincoln was the first to show up, and he loved the painting still on the easel. But when he came back to where his brother was, he was as silent as Xavier had become since telling her that the paintings were great. All the men, and the women too, stared at the one on the floor as if it was speaking to them. Much like it had to her while she was painting it. When they didn’t say anything, she did.

  “I don’t know why I painted this. And so large. I’m not full of myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. But to get the detail in I needed it large. It’s too big, isn’t it? I suppose I could have broken it up like I did the others, but—”

  She showed Garrett the others when he asked her where they were. The rest of them followed him around the room as he started with the second, smaller painting, and went around the room to the other twelve. Grace went into her studio and stood there looking at the blank canvas, hoping that this time she would be able to paint something that wasn’t so out of her reach.

  “I’ll take them all.” She turned and looked at Garrett when he spoke from behind her. “Christ, woman, you’re going to be famous after this. No one is going to say anything about a painter without speaking your name in hushed tones. You outdid yourself to the point where I’m afraid that you will have outgrown my little gallery.”

  “I want the larger one.” They were all arguing over the paintings. But Cooper was the loudest and the one that said he wanted it. “I’d take them all if I had the room. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m going to do with that one. But I want it. It’s magnificent.” Her sister had joined them while they were looking, and she wanted to run away with her. “What will it take for me to buy that painting?”

  “You’ll let her display it at her next…no make it two showings?” Garrett was in money making mode, and she had to laugh. “Oh honey, this painting will be the envy of every being on this earth. Please
tell me that you’re going to paint like this forever.”

  “I don’t know. As I was telling Xavier, Muse wanted this done. He thinks that my muse has somehow been taken over by a dragon and he wanted his story told.” Cooper said that he’d believe it. “I don’t know what to believe. But these paintings, they were the easiest and the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

  “Do you think we could set it upright?” She said it was more than likely very heavy. Lincoln smiled and nodded at her. “Yes, I’ve no doubt, but I’d love to see it that way. I have a feeling that it’s going to be even more spectacular than it is now.”

  It took all seven of them to set the painting up. Even Winnie helped with it, and once it was sitting against the wall, she had a thought that the frame was going to cost more than the painting would bring. She said that to Lincoln when he came to stand beside her.

  “I think you’re naïve if you think this will go for anything less than a million dollars.” She looked at him, shocked. “I’m serious. I heard Garrett tell Cooper that he could have it for just over a million, but to the public, he was going to put three million on it. Just to generate interest in your work.”

  “A million dollars? Are you sure?” Lincoln nodded and kissed her. All she could think about was how much money that was. And she was sure that he’d gotten it wrong. There was no possible way that she had just sold a million-dollar painting.

  Chapter 7

  Lincoln was setting up his computer when he heard someone in the front hall. He could hear Grace speaking, but didn’t know who to. When he got up, heading to the door when the voices got louder, he saw the other man before he noticed him. When he turned and looked after Lincoln cleared his throat, he knew who he was right away.

  “You must be the stupidest man alive. What the hell are you doing in our home?” Walton looked at Grace, then back at Lincoln as he continued. “You know that you’re a wanted man, don’t you? You should be in jail, not hanging around as if you don’t have a care in the world.”