Dark Dragon Daddy

by Abigail Raines

  “I’m letting the tracer sit!” She said, raising her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry about your mate. That sucks. There were definitely some traces on the coat. I should have an answer for you in a few minutes.”

  I nodded and paced around, feeling horribly on edge until Jordan finally cleared her throat and we all crowded around to see what she had found.

  “Alright, yes,” Jordan said, squinting through a lens at the now shimmery substance spotting Dana’s coat. “Looks like a powerful mind control spell-”

  “We need an antidote,” I said quickly.

  “There is no antidote for this.” Jordan said. My stomach dropped but then Jordan said, “Because it wears off. It would have already worn off by now. They could keep brewing it for her and keep her in this state indefinitely but it’s difficult to brew and she’d have to drink it every day.”

  Jessie said, “I would imagine they just gave it to her to get her back to Darien’s. Once she’s there, she’s kept there by force. No mind control.”

  “Let’s hope so,” I said darkly. It was bad enough to think of Dana was taken prisoner in a cell or hurt in any way. But being a prisoner in her own mind... that sounded like the worst torture of all.

  “Thank you, Jordan,” I said, and shook her hand.

  “No problem. So about my fee…”

  The witch was paid. She packed up all her things and left. We decided to head to Boston. We still didn’t have an address but we figured if nothing else, we could sniff the bastard out. Jessie also suspected he might be able to find contacts once there who might give over the information for the right press. It’s not as if I wouldn’t have paid absurd amounts of money just for Darien’s address if it meant I could save her.

  We were just about to shift and fly off, all of us gathered in the foyer, when I threw open the front door and my eyebrows jumped in surprise.

  “Rob! Michael!” I said. Rob and Michael were standing on the front walk, Michael’s hand raised to ring the bell.

  “We heard you needed some help?” Rob grinned. He looked every bit the movie star. He’d probably just flown in. He was wearing some fitted white pants and a light shirt with a few buttons strategically undone. He took off his shades and slipped them over his collar.

  “I was taking down this asshole vampire in France,” Michael said, shrugging. “But my boy comes first. Are we going to Boston, or what?”

  I was moved, to say the least. It meant a lot that all my friends had turned out to help me. I couldn’t think of a thing to say, not traditionally being great at feelings but Rob just clapped me on the back, followed by Michael.

  “You know we’re always here for you, man,” Rob said.

  Michael nodded in agreement and cleared his throat, not being one for feelings talk either and he stepped back, nodding to the street. “C’mon! Let’s get to Boston already. We’ll take down this fuckwad, maybe catch a Sox game…”

  Soon enough we were shifted and soaring through the air. It still made me nervous, not knowing precisely where Darien lived but I had to trust Jessie’s instincts for that. It was good that Michael was here too. He was experienced in magical underbelly. He spent most of his time righting wrongs across the world for shifter kind specifically, even if it was against other shifters.

  I was a smaller dragon than all of them. It gave me a bit of insecurity at times. But I’d had enough at first uncomfortable and then productive conversations with the club to know that though most of them were more than twice my size, they thought of me as the strongest of them. They knew just enough of what I’d been through to know it had been a feat for me to escape. They thought of me as brave.

  I thought of that now as I flew far ahead of them, the smallest dragon leading the pack. It gave me a powerful feeling to know my friends were all behind me.

  I’m coming for you, my love, I thought.

  We landed in Boston after a long flight. By the time I touched down, my wings were killing me. It was difficult for me to cover as much ground as easily as my friends could and it didn’t do my freshly healed shoulder any favors. I hissed as I shifted back into human form and rubbed my shoulder.

  We’d landed on an expanse of green in a deserted park and hopefully out of sight, but we were right in the center of the city. I clenched my fist and eyed Jessie and Michael, hoping against hope that they’d be able track down Darien quickly. We could sniff out Boston all day but I was the only one who knew Darien’s scent and the others would be going by Dana as I’d have them sniff that coat so they would know it. But how long would sniffing out one specific shifter scent take in such a big city? And what if he didn’t live in Boston but nearby somewhere?

  “There’s a wizard,” Jessie said, rubbing his arms because the air was cool outside. “He knows everyone and if he doesn’t know Darien he’ll know somebody who knows Darien. I’m sure of it. I wasn’t able to get a hold of him before but he runs a bar in town. It makes sense that Darien moved here. There’s a thriving criminal underbelly for magical folk. But that also makes it easier to be found.”

  “Okay,” I said nodding. “Everybody keep your phones on you.”

  We split off in pairs and I went with Justin while Jessie and Michael went to track down their leads. It felt like a wild goose chase as the two of us headed into the wealthier parts of Boston, our senses heightened, as we tried to sniff out both Dana and Darien. After several hours, we were no closer than we had been at the beginning and nobody else had sensed anything either.

  We shifted and flew to different neighborhoods and started over again. Nobody complained or even said they were tired or hungry. I didn’t say anything at all. All I could think about was how Dana might be doing. I was both racked with nerves and enraged and the two feelings warred within me. I had no room for any other thoughts.

  Justin and I had walked six miles that day. We were stopped at a corner on a street full of old mansions and getting side-eyed by a few wealthy older ladies on their front lawns. The two of us looked like delinquents. Our clothes were nice but by now we were sweaty and loitering there on sidewalks where people didn’t really walk around that much. That wasn’t too bad but I felt like we were going nowhere. When our phones buzzed, I fumbled to grab mine, my heart racing at the thought that somebody had found something.

  It was Jessie.

  I got it. 211 Sycamore Lane.

  Chapter Fifteen: Dana

  The hours passed in terror. I was left alone for a long time. I was finally brought food which I’m sure was mostly for the benefit of the baby. Fine with me. I wanted my baby safe too. But my baby would never be safe under Darien. The thought kept bringing me to tears. I ate and curled up again in bed. I tried to make myself come to terms with my fate. I managed to make myself think that if this was as bad as it got, it wasn’t so bad. I would certainly die. But in the meantime, perhaps I would just be left alone here. The room was comfortable anyway. The food wasn’t bad. There was nothing to do at all. I had no books to read and no TV or internet. That part threatened to drive me out of my mind. I was left in totally solitary silence. The loneliness was a void within me. But if that was the worst I would face, I could take it, I thought. Then I would have the baby and they would kill me. But at least it would be over.

  I passed the time trying to stay calm. I wasn’t sure how much mood affected babies in the womb but I’d heard there was something to it. I didn’t want the little dragon to be always afraid or stressed out because I had spent most of their gestation imprisoned.

  I tried to focus on happy things for the baby’s sake and the rest of the time, I slept as much as possible. I thought about David mostly and I daydreamed. I remembered his every expression. I remembered how he’d seemed perfectly normal and chatty after being terribly injured (for my sake no less), only to seem socially dysfunctional once the pain killers had worn off and the danger was gone. I replayed every memory of being with David in my mind from lovemaking to eating breakfast. I daydreamed about what it would have been li
ke to be with him forever. I thought of him teaching our baby to breathe fire properly and to fly.

  It was funny that I now thought of David as the baby’s father. Darien was their father but I’d become so used to the idea of David being my mate that it now seemed totally irrelevant.

  Their father was David. I would die thinking it.

  Sometimes I thought about how none of my dreams would happen. I would have the baby, Darien would kill me and then the little one would be raised by a monster. The thought was tragic and terrifying. When I thought about that, I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

  Other times I tried to remind myself that I had months yet before the baby would be born. Darien couldn’t do anything about that. Even if he had to keep me a prisoner, he not only had to keep me safe and cared for (at a minimum anyway), but it also gave David more time to find me. He’d spoken to me about his friends in that dragon boy’s club of his. They were quite resourceful and some of them had connections to the magical underworld, from what I understood. I didn’t know anything about where Darien got his money but I knew it was something to do with magical criminal activity. He had to be known in those circles. Maybe, just maybe, David would be able to find me. I was grateful anyway that I had months for him to try.

  There was a vanity in the bedroom. The place was dusty and everything seemed old as if somewhere there might be mold growing in it. There were rusted spots on the vanity’s mirror but with nothing better to do, I sat in front of it and played with my hair. I was desperate for any past-time and I’d found a few hair ties in my pocket. I thought I’d try a couple fishtail braids. I’d learned to braid my hair a million different ways as a girl. It was one of those silly little hobbies that didn’t cost anything except the price of rubber bands.

  I sat and played with my hair, and I was somehow able to actually lighten my mood. I finger-combed my long hair until it was as smooth as I could get it, meanwhile singing whatever song I could think of that I knew the words to, fast or slow. I started with a French braid, then undid the whole thing and did two French braids, then I undid those and tried the fishtail. The fishtail took me the longest. I went through half of The Killer’s discography trying it but at least it was something to do.

  I actually managed to make myself laugh, my hair prettily braided, until there was a knock at the door. I jumped to my feet as if I’d done something wrong. It was that witch. Layne, was the name Darien had called her. I’d had enough time to put things together with so many hours to think about nothing.

  She half floated into the room. Her eyes never left mine. They were bright blue and just as cold as when I’d shown up at the front door. Her big cloud of black, curly hair was wound into a tight bun now, making her pinched and wrinkled face seem even more severe. She was wearing a long white dress and carrying a glass jar full of something that both looked and smelled disgusting. It smelled like rotten eggs.

  I stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, praying that whatever was about to happen, it wouldn’t hurt the baby at least.

  “Dana,” she said. Her voice raspy. It reminded me of dry grass somehow. She floated over to me, holding the big jar full of thick and sickening looking liquid with both hands. “You are the breeder.”

  My stomach dropped at that word. It was true, I supposed. But it had certain connotations even among those who still practiced this awful tradition of buying shifter women to breed heirs and children. Calling a woman a “breeder” was like calling her a whore.

  But I wasn’t about to argue with one of my captors about something like that. I wasn’t that stupid.

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s me. The breeder.”

  She stood in front of me holding the jar, her eyes eerily fixed on mine. It was the creepiest feeling and it made my heart pound. I had the feeling that she could seriously hurt me without even trying, maybe even worse than Darien could.

  “You have months yet to go in your gestation,” Layne said. “You will birth a beautiful dragon. Hopefully, he will be a son. If it is a daughter, she will be a good breeder in years to come.”

  “No,” I whispered, without quite meaning to. I’d known all along that not much good would come for my baby if they turned out to be a girl versus a male heir. There was no way to tell. You couldn’t read the sex of a shifter baby even by magical means. The thought had haunted me from the beginning and I’d tried not to think about it too much, allowing myself to hope that Darien was perhaps not so cruel so as to mistreat an innocent child. The thought that a girl would be raised to do what I had done made me ill. Although she’d at least be cared for well enough in the meantime. Maybe. That was a lie I wanted to believe anyhow. I couldn’t see a means of escaping even for my child’s sake if she was a girl.

  “Don’t worry about your baby, my dear,” Layne said softly. She reached up and caressed my cheek and her fingers felt scaly on my skin so that I reared back. “Your child will be fine.”

  “Okay,” I murmured. Every second she stood there, I felt worse.

  She held out the jar and said, “You need to drink this now. It’s going to accelerate your gestation.”

  “Accelerate it?” I said, feeling more than a little alarm.

  “Yes,” Layne said, sounding far too calm about the whole thing. “You’ll drink this and your baby will grow to birthing size within a few hours and I’ll induce your labor.”

  “Within a few…” I stared at her, my heart pounding so hard now, it was painful in my chest.

  The thought sounded terrifying to me. There was simply no way they could do something like that even by magical means without it being horrifically torturous. My body wouldn’t have enough time to acclimate to that. At least, I couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t imagine it being safe for the baby either, forcing him to grow so instantly like that.

  “No,” I whispered. “Please, no…”

  “You’ll drink it,” Darien said from the doorway. He stood there with his fists clenched. He didn’t look like he was ready to let me argue the point. They needed to keep me healthy enough to have the kid. That didn’t mean they couldn’t abuse me plenty in the meantime. Putting a pregnant woman in distress was probably not ideal for a baby, but I didn’t think they’d listen to me on that point. “You’ll drink it right this second or I will have you flayed.”

  I gasped and tears pricked my eyes. Torture or torture? Neither sounded ideal. But the unknown terror of a forcefully accelerated pregnancy did sound a degree better than having my skin peeled off.

  “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll drink it.”

  “Not as if I needed your permission,” Darien said darkly. “I would have tied you up and poured it down your throat...after flaying you.”

  “Great,” I muttered. I took the jar from Layne. It was going to be awful. I just knew it. Before I could think twice, I started drinking it.

  It was bad.

  I immediately started to gag. Layne quietly encouraged me. I didn’t take any solace in that She was Darien’s evil assistant. I fully expected her to hurt me at his command. I had a strong hunch this would hurt me terribly. She was just as bad as he was. The worst part was that I couldn’t guzzle it quickly. It was much too thick for that. I practically had to chew it, it was so thick, and it tasted like rotten milk more so than rotten eggs. My stomach roiled at the taste of it. It was heinous. I had to stop several times, my stomach heaving.

  “If you throw it up,” Layne said, her tone a warning, “I’ll have to make it again. But we will keep making you drink it, until you can hold it down.”

  The thought that I might have to somehow drink this again was somehow enough to make me force my stomach to hold the horrendous concoction down.

  With all this extra time on my hands, it hadn’t taken me long to figure out that Layne had been the old lady who had sprayed me with perfume on the sidewalk. I figured it must have been a mind control potion. That meant she was very good at potions. Mind control potions were highly advanced. So
this would probably work. I was not looking forward to it.

  After several agonizing minutes, I was finally able to drink down the entirety of the potion. I’d never heard of a potion that could induce labor before. I suspect it was both difficult to brew and painful in practice. Not worth using than even if your alternative was several months of sometimes annoying pregnancy. Shifter women were strong anyway. They probably didn’t feel the need. It was only those with no compunctions about abusing them who would make them drink such a thing.

  When I was finally done drinking, I handed the jar back to Layne and wiped my mouth on my arm. They were both staring at me like something was supposed to happen. I felt like I was supposed to be doing something, but what? My stomach roiled and I grimaced as I saw Layne’s eyes light up.

  Layne whispered, “Here it comes…”

  One second later, I began to scream.

  Once I started screaming, I couldn’t seem to stop. I was lying on the bed now, my knees folded up as if I were already in labor. I wasn’t yet, but it was the most comfortable position to be in as my body was forced to stretch around the baby growing way too fast inside me. The pain seemed to come from everywhere and tears streamed down my face. What was worse was the indifference of both Darien and Layne who merely watched, completely disinterested.

  “It’s definitely working,” I heard Layne say.

  “Let me know when she has the thing,” Darien said, and then he was gone.

  “It will be over soon,” Layne said, smirking coldly. “And then there will be only the sweet release of death which probably sounds pretty good about now from what I’ve been told about this potion.”

  Fucking bitch, was my only coherent thought.

  I felt like I was being stabbed over and over.

  “What if…” I took a breath again. My head pounded, every nerve tensed. “What if...it’s a girl…”

  If it was a girl, life would be shitty for the girl. But I wondered if Darien would still kill me or-