Courage and the Dragon (Redwood Dragons Book 9)

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Courage and the Dragon (Redwood Dragons Book 9) Page 7

by Sloane Meyers


  Later, when she and Grayson had both dressed, and were slipping out of Shafer’s house, Zoe dug into her wallet and found a crisp one hundred dollar bill to drop into the donation box by the door.

  That had been one hell of a self-guided tour.

  Chapter Eight

  Grayson awoke to the sound of rain falling the next morning, and the rain did not stop falling again for all twelve hours that he and Zoe flew. The weather was so bad that they couldn’t make it to the next town on their itinerary, and they were forced to stop short by about a hundred miles. Zoe spotted a campground and RV park from their aerial vantage point, and she made her way down through the storm to land about a half mile out.

  “We have to walk in,” she explained to Grayson, as though he didn’t already know that. “Flying in and then suddenly appearing from under the cover of an invisibility shield has the potential to draw far too much attention.”

  Grayson hmphed in response. He was wet, cold, and tired, and not in the mood to have a conversation that merely stated the obvious. Without another word, he slipped his backpack off his back and started looking for street clothes. Not only would it not do to fly in to the campground, it also wouldn’t do to walk in while wearing Falcon Cross military uniforms. That was certain to stir up some questions. Grayson imagined they already looked suspicious enough as it was, coming in on foot in the middle of the rain, in an area where people mostly drove to their destinations. But they had little choice in the matter, unless they wanted to continue flying through the rain in the darkness, trying to reach the next city. In this weather, that was bound to take quite a bit of time, and Grayson had had enough of flying for the day. Possibly for the week, or even the month. He was more than ready to get to the part of this mission where he actually got to do something. Sitting on the back of a broomstick and letting someone else steer wasn’t his idea of a kickass mission. The more delays they faced on the way, the grumpier he was going to get.

  Out of respect for Zoe, Grayson turned around as she undressed and changed. It seemed a bit silly, after what they’d done last night. But he wanted to be polite. And, besides, he was confused as hell over what to do about his feelings for her. Grayson had, quite unexpectedly, fallen in love.

  The possibility of love had been far from his mind when he and Zoe got it on in the middle of Shafer’s house last night. He hadn’t thought what he felt for her was anything other than blinding passion. One minute, he’d been trudging up the stairs, annoyed that they had been in the house for so long. Really, it hadn’t been that long at all, but he hadn’t wanted to be there in the first place, so every passing second felt like an eternity. But the next minute, he’d been staring hopelessly at Zoe’s perfect curves, which were illuminated by the moonlight streaming into Shafer’s office.

  He’d forgotten to be angry, and he admitted to himself that perhaps he was giving Zoe too hard of a time. He had been quite impressed with all of the information he’d learned about Erich Shafer, and with the fact that Zoe was the kind of person to know so much about poetry. Before he knew it, he’d let the little swirls of desire in his stomach get the better of him, and he’d asked to kiss Zoe. The rest had been history. As soon as his lips touched hers, he knew he was a lost cause. He’d never wanted anyone so badly in his entire life. For a while, he feared at every moment that Zoe was going to pull back, to stop him, to say she didn’t want this. But she’d let him have her completely.

  They had slept together in an act of pure lust. And damn, were they a good fit for each other in the physical department. Zoe made him feel stronger sensations than he’d ever thought possible, and, if her reactions to his touch were a reliable indication, he’d done the same for her. Zoe had made teasing remarks all last night and this morning about how fun it was to have a coworker with benefits, and Grayson had played along. But the truth was that it had only taken a few seconds of being inside of Zoe to know that she was more than just some sort of fling.

  “We’re going to have to change again as soon as we get to the campsite,” Zoe complained. “It only took about a half second for my clothes to become drenched again.”

  Grayson took that as an indication that Zoe was done changing, and turned around. She was indeed changed, and now wore a pair of jeans and a fitted navy t-shirt, both of which were just as wet as if she’d just climbed out of a swimming pool.

  “Come on,” he said wearily. “There’s nothing to be done about it but get to the campsite as quickly as possible, and hope that they have some sort of cabin open.”

  Grayson and Zoe didn’t have a tent with them. They had packed as lightly as possible, and a tent had not made the final cut. They were supposed to be stopping at hotels along the way, and at their final destination in Shadowdale. If they did have to stop somewhere in the woods, they could sleep under the stars. It was summertime after all, and the weather was likely to be good.

  So much for that, Grayson thought as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. He put his head down and told himself to just put one foot in front of the other. If he’d been able to shift into dragon form right now, things wouldn’t have been nearly so unbearable. All this rainwater would have slid off his dragon hide, and his giant dragon wings could have easily cut through the windy skies. But there was no use wishing for what he could not have. Flying in dragon form would be much too dangerous, and the security of the mission was top priority. A much higher priority, to be sure, than being comfortable in the rain.

  Grayson trudged along, doing his best to keep his thoughts off Zoe for the rest of the walk to the campsite. When they walked into the main office, a teenage boy with long stringy hair looked up in annoyance.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, in a voice that indicated helping them was the last thing he felt like doing right then. In his hands he held a magazine that appeared to be about racecars, if the pictures could be trusted. Grayson wondered if the boy read it for the racecars, or for the pictures of women in skimpy clothing posing on the cars in the magazine’s advertisements. Perhaps both. Well, whatever the reason, Grayson was probably just as keen to get out of this office as the boy was to get back to his cars and women. The sooner they could get a place for the night sorted out, the better. Zoe hung back by the door, standing on the weather mat in front of it. Grayson, however, walked right up to the counter, ignoring the fact that he was leaving a long wet trail behind him. It was just water. It would dry.

  “We were wondering if you have any cabins available,” Grayson said. “My friend and I got caught up in the rain, and we don’t have a tent. I noticed you have some standalone cabins on your site.”

  The boy looked back and forth between Grayson and Zoe with a suspicious look in his eye. Grayson had the feeling that the boy hadn’t missed the fact that he’d called Zoe his friend and not his girlfriend. And Grayson couldn’t miss the way the boy’s eyes roved up and down Zoe’s curves with appreciation. The rain had caused all of her clothing to stick tightly to her skin, not leaving much about her shape to the imagination. Grayson found himself feeling overly defensive.

  “You’re too young for her, son,” Grayson snapped. “Now can you tell me if you have a campsite available?”

  The boy gave Grayson a sullen look, then sat up and reached for a giant three-ring binder. He flipped through several pages of spreadsheets, stopping when he came to one labeled “CABINS” in bold, capital letters across the top. He ran his fingers down the lines of scribbled handwriting on the spreadsheet, muttering under his breath. Grayson impatiently tried to see whether it looked like there were any openings. But he couldn’t read very well upside down, especially not when the handwriting was this messy. Besides, he wasn’t sure exactly what all the abbreviations on the page meant. Still, he tried. The boy took his time, almost as though he knew that doing so would annoy Grayson further. Finally, he looked up, his face still sullen.

  “It’s just the two of you?” he asked doubtfully, daring for a moment to steal another glance back at Zoe.


  “Yes, just us,” Grayson said, doing his best not to completely snap at the boy. Did the kid have pudding for brains?

  “We only have one cabin left and it’s an eight person cabin. It’s big. Two bedrooms, with two bunk beds in each room. And a separate dining area and kitchen. It’s a bit too big for two people, I’d say.”

  “How much is it?” Grayson asked. The cost didn’t matter much. He and Zoe needed to rest, and if an eight person cabin was all this place had, they would take it.

  “One hundred and twenty a night,” the boy said, sounding almost apologetic. He winced a bit, as though he expected Grayson to yell at him about the exorbitant price.

  Grayson wanted to laugh. Perhaps, as campsites went, one-twenty was on the pricey side. But it wasn’t much more than he and Zoe would have spent on a hotel that night, and it was a dry place for them to stay.

  “Do you take credit cards?” Grayson asked, already fishing in the front pocket of his backpack for his wallet. Visibly relieved that he wasn’t going to be yelled at, the boy brightened and nodded.

  A little more than five minutes later, Grayson was grabbing the key for their cabin from the boy’s hand. When the boy took another glance at Zoe, Grayson felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him.

  “She’s mine,” Grayson growled under his breath at the boy, hoping that Zoe was too distracted to hear him. “Go find someone your own age.”

  The boy frowned in confusion. “I thought you said she was your friend,” he protested.

  Grayson’s scowl deepened. “It’s complicated. But you stay away from her, you hear?”

  The boy raised his hands in the universal gesture for surrender, then went back to his magazine with a huff. Grayson turned to see Zoe looking at him with amusement. As soon as they’d closed the office door behind them and stepped out into the rain again, she laughed.

  “Touchy, touchy,” she said. She sounded pleased. Grayson wasn’t sure how much of his exchange with the boy she had actually heard, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  “Come on,” he said, ignoring her jab. “We’ve got a bit of a walk. Our cabin is on the far end of the campground.”

  They bent their heads low against the wind and started walking through the rain again, making their way past the small tents, large RVs, and tiny cabins. The last row of cabins was slightly larger than the rest, and the very last cabin on that row was theirs.

  “What a walk,” Zoe said as they stumbled through the front door, bringing a large puddle of water with them.

  “At least we’re relatively secluded,” Grayson said, already peeling off his soaking t-shirt. “Although I think it’s a good walk back to the community bathrooms.”

  “Bummer,” said Zoe. “I want to take a shower.”

  Grayson saw her look up at the sky with a doubtful frown.

  “If you’re waiting for a break in the rain,” he said. “You’re likely going to be waiting a while.”

  “I might just make a run for it, then. I want to take a shower. I’ll find a trash bag or something to hold over my head on the way back to keep me dry.”

  Grayson just nodded. He thought Zoe was a bit crazy for wanting to take a shower, but he wasn’t about to argue with her about it. He would welcome a few minutes away from her, in fact, and his sense of relief when she dashed out into the rain again was almost palpable. He needed to sort out his feelings for her, and quickly.

  When he saw the boy in the office look at Zoe, the strength of Grayson’s possessive feelings had surprised him. But perhaps they shouldn’t have. Grayson was slowly coming to admit to himself what he had known in his heart since he and Zoe gave in to their passion on that bearskin rug last night: she was his lifemate.

  It seemed an improbable match to him in many ways. He was a dragon, who freely admitted to his desire for fame and glory. And she was a wizard, who did her best to avoid the fame and glory she’d so unwillingly found. They wanted different things out of life, it seemed. So why had destiny brought them together?

  It was hard to deny that it had been destiny that aligned their paths. All the things that had seemed like coincidences to Grayson now made perfect sense. His initial meeting of Zoe, and her subsequent request to have him accompany her on the mission, had all been part of fate’s plan to bring them together. And once they were together, it hadn’t taken long for the passion between them to simmer to a boiling point. After Grayson had acted on that passion, he’d felt the telltale burning in his core, the warmth of the lifemate bond.

  Grayson rubbed his forehead and stared out the front window of the cabin, looking for Zoe. She was too far gone now. The rain was too thick to see more than ten feet in front of the cabin. Perhaps it was better that way. Less chance of anyone seeing them here and asking questions. He doubted that any of Saul’s spies were around, but still. He preferred to keep to himself.

  A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just before seven. They would need to eat soon, and, while they had meal replacement bars in their bags, Grayson would rather save those for when there was quite literally no other option. He had seen a little general store near the front of the campsite, and he decided to make a run for it and see if there was anything edible there. Without bothering to put on another shirt, Grayson grabbed his wallet and ran out into the rain. The run to the store, with no backpack weighing him down, felt much quicker than the slow trudge out to the cabin had felt. In no time at all, Grayson had arrived at the general store, and tumbled through the doorway with a blast of wind and rain.

  The inside was surprisingly large, and filled with everything from food to souvenirs to camping supplies. Grayson noticed that there were tents for sale. He and Zoe could have bought a tent for the night if they’d had to, although he didn’t mind being in a cozy cabin instead in the midst of this storm. Grayson also noticed that the man behind the counter did not seem pleased to see him. The man eyed him up and down, pausing for an extra beat on the puddle forming around Grayson’s feet. When he looked back up to meet Grayson’s eyes, he frowned, then pointed to a sign above his head that read, “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

  “You gotta have a shirt, mate,” the man said, shrugging and turning back to look at whatever magazine he was holding in his hands. Grayson wanted to roll his eyes. Apparently all the employees at this place wanted to do was to sit around and read magazines.

  “Come on, man,” Grayson said. “Don’t make me go back and get a shirt. I’m the only one in here, and I ran all the way over here in the pouring rain.”

  “I noticed,” the man said sourly. “You’re leaving a puddle all over my floor. Rules are rules.”

  He went back to his magazine again as though that settled it. Grayson scowled, narrowing his eyes as he looked around the store until his gaze landed on a display of souvenir t-shirts with “Woodlake Camp” written on them in big, gaudy letters. He chose a large, hot pink one just to make an additional statement that he didn’t care what the man thought of him. Then he ripped the tags off and slipped the shirt on over his head. He marched up to the counter and threw the tags down.

  “I’d like to buy this shirt,” Grayson said. “And then I’d like to buy some food.”

  The man, whose nametag read “Ralph,” scowled right back at him. “You don’t own that shirt yet. I can’t help you until you’re wearing a shirt you actually own.”

  Grayson resisted the urge he had to punch the man just to see if he would bounce off the wall behind him. The people who worked here were the most unfriendly lot Grayson had ever met. If he were the type to write online reviews, he’d give this place zero stars. But Grayson wasn’t the type to spend time writing reviews, and he needed food. So he just crossed his arms over his chest and gave Ralph a stern look.

  “I can take the shirt off and leave, in which case you’ve got a ruined shirt and no sale. Or I can buy the shirt, along with a good amount of food and supplies. Doesn’t look like you’re doing any other business tonight.”

  Ralph look
ed like he would protest again for a moment, but finally he shrugged and rolled his eyes like he could care less what Grayson did. “Suit yourself.”

  Grayson didn’t waste any more time on the man. He grabbed a hand basket and made his way to the grocery section, where he found steaks, potatoes, and salad fixings. He grabbed a bottle of wine as well, and cereal and milk for breakfast. A ripe bunch of bananas caught his eye, and he threw it in the basket as well. By that time, the basket was almost full, but he still managed to find room for a small umbrella. A box of chocolate chip cookies that looked homemade sat by the counter, and Grayson grabbed that as well. Ralph sighed and started ringing up the purchases like it was the greatest annoyance in the world. Grayson ignored him and started fishing his credit card out of his wallet. He was paying for everything with his Falcon Cross business credit card, and he’d been given the freedom to spend as much as he wanted, so the purchase was a fairly large one. Ralph should have been pleased.

  “You want a bag?” Ralph asked as he finished ringing up the last of the purchases.

  Grayson nodded, and Ralph huffed again, stuffing all of the purchases in one single bag until it was about to burst. Grayson handed over his credit card without even waiting to hear the total. He just wanted to get out of here at this point.

  “Nice color on that shirt,” Ralph said, raising an eyebrow at the hot pink shirt Grayson was wearing.

  Grayson smiled and shrugged. “Real men wear pink.”

  He’d had a feeling Ralph was the type who wouldn’t be able to resist making a comment on the shirt. Grayson had always been good at reading people, and Ralph was practically an open book: sour old man, with no ambition who looked for any reason to make other people feel small. But Grayson was a dragon. He couldn’t be intimidated so easily. And he didn’t have much patience for people like Ralph. There was a giant war going on between good and evil right now, for crying out loud. What did it matter what color shirt someone wore? But Ralph did not and could not know about the war, or about Saul and his army. Ralph was like many other sleepy men, going through life thinking they were better than everyone, when really, they had no idea how hard others had worked to keep them safe and free.

 

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