by Leela Ash
“This is Miss Ariel McDunnah. She’s applying for the position of nanny.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He held a hand out to her.
Ariel took it, glanced up… and found herself lost again.
Emerald green eyes, bright as gems, studied her. They sparkled with an impish glee. A smile hovered over his lips, barely controlled, as if he might burst into laughter at any moment. She barely noticed the other details: his high cheekbones and rakish brown hair. Those eyes captivated her. They whispered promises. Wicked pleasures. A world of delicious, dangerous fun.
Flustered, she let her hand drop back into her lap. What on earth made her think all that? She wasn’t a woman who gaped at men, but the energy, the barely-controlled excitement that radiated from him, left her speechless.
Fortunately, he didn’t expect her to say anything. He pounced on her reference letter. “Brandon Lorde sent you? Nice!”
“Thank you,” she managed to murmur.
One quick scan and then the letter, already forgotten, dropped from his fingers back onto the desk. “When can you start?”
Start? She had the job? Ariel was too stunned to say a word.
George, however, was just annoyed. “Mr. Jackson,” he huffed as he scooped up the discarded reference, “Miss McDunnah is the first applicant.”
That devilish grin she’d sensed finally broke free. “Early bird gets the worm, right?”
She had no idea what to say to that!
“We should interview at least a few others!” the other man protested.
Owen shot him an incredulous look. “Why would I want a slow nanny?”
“Speed is not one of a nanny’s prime duties,” George muttered.
“Have you seen how Trey and Brody tear around this place? I have. I’m going with the fast nanny. When can you start?”
Ariel suspected he was just teasing now, but the exchange gave her a second to recover from the shock of being handed this dream job. “I guess any time.”
“So ‘now’ would work? Great!” he exclaimed, before she had a chance to protest. “Because I need a nanny right now.”
“Mr. Jackson!” cried the exasperated George. “There are some concerns with Miss McDunnah’s inexperience.”
The delight in Owen’s eyes cooled. “Are you telling me that you think my Alpha recommended a bad nanny?”
“No, no, certainly not, but…”
“Because if you are, I can tell him that. I’m flying out to meet him in an hour.”
Ariel shivered at the veiled threat in those words.
Note to self: ‘Mister’ Jackson doesn’t like to be questioned. He may not be the easiest person to work with…
“No, I’m sure Miss McDunnah will do fine,” George gulped.
As soon as he got his way, Owen’s high spirits returned. “Great! Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the kids.”
“Wonderful.” She prayed her voice didn’t betray her doubt – but now she was genuinely worried. Ariel was only Kin, not a true Bear. Yet, she’d been raised by Bears. Bear blood flowed through her veins. And nothing was as important to that Kind as family.
How could he entrust his family to a woman he’s never met? He didn’t even ask me any questions!
Much as she hated it, she was with George on this one. Owen Jackson was not showing due diligence.
Unlike George, though, she knew she was qualified, even if she didn’t have extensive experience. She was Bear-kin. She would take good care of these children. It would all work out in the end.
With long strides, Owen headed down the hall. Ariel had to trot to keep up. They came to an entertainment room with a tv the size of a movie screen. One entire wall was glass and looked out over an enormous pool.
Two small boys, perhaps five and eight, splashed happily in the shallow end. “Those two little hellions are Trey and Brody,” he explained.
Her unease grew. “Shouldn’t they be supervised while they swim?”
“Their sister Sydnee is watching them.”
He pointed at a thin child curled up in a lounge chair. Enraptured by a cell phone, she completely ignored her two brothers.
Owen leaned close and whispered, “Sydnee is great. Really low maintenance. As long as she’s got bars on her phone, you won’t even know she’s there.”
Who on earth boasted that their kids were ‘low-maintenance’? Ariel bristled at the word. Yet, she recalled how poorly Mr. Jackson had reacted to George’s mild protest.
If he doesn’t like being questioned, I’m sure he hates being reprimanded!
Nope, criticizing her employer would only earn her a quick trip to the door. She wanted this job, badly. Even more now, after seeing the children.
They needed her.
So, as unnatural as it felt, she held her tongue.
Owen didn’t notice her silence at all. He was too busy giving her a quick rundown on the household. “George, you’ve met. There’s a cook and a maid. He can introduce them.”
He waved vaguely. Ariel suspected he didn’t even know those people’s names.
“Any questions?”
“Is there a Mrs. Jackson?”
He blinked – then burst out laughing. “Oh, hell no. I’m not the marrying kind.”
At the sound of his laughter, the two boys glanced up and waved frantically. Owen gave them a cheery salute in return. Sydnee shot him one cool, disapproving stare then turned her attention back to the phone.
That child was going to require a little extra love and care, Ariel told herself.
“Their mother and I hooked up a few times. Fun girl. She ended up getting addicted to meth, though, and wound up in prison.”
Not a cheery story. “Then you got the children?”
“No, her dad took them for five years. Then he had a heart-attack a month ago. Died.”
There wasn’t a trace of sorrow in his voice. He told the story coolly, as if he’d read it in the news.
Not as if this dreadful loss had happened to his own children.
The urge to smack her employer in the back of the head grew. Sternly, Ariel reminded herself that it could be worse. He could have abandoned his children to foster care. He might have shirked his duties for years but at least he honored them in the end.
Kind of.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard the unmistakable thrum of a helicopter.
“Oh hell,” Owen groaned. “That’s my ride. Sorry to run like this. I’ll be back in three days, tops.”
He was leaving? Already? Before even fully introducing her new charges? “But my clothes, my things, are back at the hotel…”
“George will handle that.” He turned to leave.
“But I didn’t bring much from Louisiana!”
“Tell George to get you new things.”
Her head whirled as her world was suddenly flipped upside down. “But…!”
One of the boys – Trey? Brody? – hauled himself out of the pool and went sprinting for the diving board.
Instinct kicked in. “Hey, hey, hey!” she cried as she dashed out to the pool’s edge. “No running! If you fall on this concrete you’ll hurt yourself badly.”
All three children froze and stared at this new, unexpected interruption. Ariel turned back towards the house, hoping that Owen would introduce her properly.
The Dragon was already gone.
Sighing, she turned back to the children. “Hello. I’m Ariel. I’m your new nanny.”
No one looked impressed.
Chapter 2
Brandon Lorde’s San Francisco penthouse boasted a breath-taking view. Barely a stone’s throw away, the Bay Bridge soared across to Oakland. Little cousin to the Golden Gate Bridge, its grey arches mirrored the curves of its more famous relative.
Owen Jackson barely noticed. His summons had thrown him into a fever of anticipation.
For centuries, magic had been lost to the world. The Wellsprings, enchanted portals that connected this world to the mystical Other Side,
closed for reasons no one understood. Shifters like Owen, people whose souls were inseparably tied to the great spirits of the Other Side, held onto scraps of power. But locked away from the source of myth and wonder, the world grew cold and rational.
Two years ago, a dormant Wellspring awakened. Once again, magic flowed into the world from this one fragile, sacred site. As a Dragon, Owen knew exactly what that meant.
War.
When magic failed, Shifters failed with it. Oh, some remembered their purpose and stayed true to it. There were still packs of Wolves who roamed the land, wild and free. A handful of Bears protected great families, the wise matriarchs and patriarchs who shielded generations. Yet, many Shifters fell into despair as the Wellsprings died. They buried themselves in empty pleasures, in drink and drugs. Dragons were hit the hardest, since it was their duty to protect the Wellsprings. Those who fell became Worms, fallen creatures that gnawed their own wings off.
Owen’s Flight had remained pure, under the guidance of his Alpha, Brandon Lorde. Now, their faith had been rewarded: once more, the Flight had a living Wellspring to guard.
And, he knew, the Worms would not tolerate that. Worms had gathered the most debased Shifters into a group called ‘The Fangs of Apophis.’ Rumors swirled about the renewed Wellspring. Owen had no doubt that the Fangs would give, literally, anything to find it and either destroy it or twist it in their greed.
In his mind, the rebirth of the Wellspring should have triggered an immediate attack. For two years, he’d stewed, seething with impatience, while Lorde did nothing. Why? Why didn’t his Flight assault the Fangs? Why didn’t they take the battle to their enemies instead of hiding?
Finally, today, the summons had come, and he knew what this meant. The years of thumb twiddling, of sitting idle while their enemies grew stronger, were over. The rest of his Flight would shake off their torpor.
Lost in thoughts of revenge and glory, he followed the maître-de blindly into a luxurious wood-paneled room. His Alpha, Brandon Lorde, gazed out over the city of San Francisco, a glass of claret in his hand. Broad-shouldered, with a chiseled face and piercing gaze, he was everything a Dragon ought to be. Owen felt his chest swell with pride. There was no man he’d rather follow into battle.
“Jackson.”
“Lorde.”
Brandon might be his Alpha but they were both Dragons. There would be no honorifics, no tokens of subservience, between them.
“Wine?”
“Please.” A waiter whisked over at once with a second glass of crimson liquid. Owen raised it in salute. “To your new Wellspring!”
“To the Wellspring.” Lorde took a sip then raised the goblet again. “And to my new child and my Mate, the first woman to pass the Rite of Claiming since the Wellspring vanished ages ago.”
Less exciting, but he still saluted that.
“Speaking of which, how are your own children?”
“Great!”
“I’m pleased that you decided to take charge of them.”
Yeah, well, when your Alpha tells you to do something, you do it.
Dragons didn’t demand subservience from their Flights – but only a fool thought he was his Alpha’s equal.
Not that he was going to say that. Owen just smiled and took another gulp of the wine.
“How are they handling their grandfather’s death?”
Weird. Lorde usually cut straight to business. “As well as they can, I guess. They seem to like their new home.”
“Children are very resilient. I thought the boys would prosper, but I have concerns about your daughter. She’s old enough that this will be hard on her.”
“Sydnee? Pfft, no! She’s doing great.”
“I see.”
That niggling doubt in Lorde’s tone was starting to grate on his nerves. Owen decided to turn the conversation away from kids. “Thanks for the nanny recommendation. Great idea. I can really use the help.”
Lorde’s eyes grew clouded as he swirled his wine. “She comes from an honorable family.”
“Yeah, she seems great.”
“Well, I’m pleased that everything is so ‘great.’ ”
Okay, now that definitely was sarcasm. Somewhere inside himself, Owen felt his Dragon stir with irritation. He knew what Lorde was on about, but no Dragon tolerated being nipped.
Enough ‘pleasantries’ already. Owen put his glass down and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m sure you didn’t summon me to talk about nannies, though.”
“No, I did not. Your Flight requires your aid. The time has come to reclaim the world.”
There! That was the man he’d give his life for! Elation swept through him and set his heart racing.
“You have a task to set me?”
“I do. One that will, unfortunately, require some travel.”
Visions of glory swam before him. Where would Lorde send him? To the Greek Isles, where they suspected the Fangs of Apophis built their lair? To the deserts of Mexico, where the rejects of a dozen Wolf bands lurked, modern-day bandits and drug runners? Or did some threat simmer closer at hand?
“Not a problem. Send me anywhere.”
“Good. I need you to go to Siskiyou County, California.”
That meant nothing to Owen. “What’s going on there?”
“There’s a Warren of Witch Hares working out of a small town called Adeline.”
Magic? Owen’s eyes glittered. Witch Hares weren’t warriors but their spells were one of the few things that actually could hurt a Dragon. Even during the Great Drought, when the Wellsprings lay dormant, you bearded a Hare in her lair at your peril. Now that the world’s magic strengthened… who knew what they were capable of?
Well, he’d find out. “I’m on it. They’ll be dead within the week.”
One of Lorde’s eyebrows arched. “I hope not. They’re on our side.”
“Oookay… then why am I going there?”
“They’re researching a dormant Wellspring north of Mt. Shasta. Trying to find a way to awaken it. Currently, we only have one live Well, and that’s a perilous situation.”
“And…?” He didn’t know anything about magic!
“And they may need help. You’ll be the liaison between the Warren and our Flight. You’ll answer to their Queen and give her any aid she requests.”
His Alpha wanted him to babysit bunnies?
Owen’s face fell as his dreams of battle came crashing down. He was to be a flunky, a servant – not a warrior?
It was too much. Deep inside him, his Dragon roused in anger. Its energy surged in his soul and his emerald eyes suddenly blazed with green fire. “What?” he snapped. Fury echoed in that one word, the rage that a Great Serpent felt when it was mocked.
Lorde ignored his outrage. “Do you want to know why? What your true mission is?”
That response knocked his Dragon back on its haunches. The scales which had started to spring up on his arms faded away and Owen flushed, embarrassed to have snarled at his Alpha like that. Of course, the babysitting job was a sham. Probably the Fangs had infiltrated the Warren and he needed to uncover evidence of that.
Before he killed the villains.
Hoping to cover his mistake, he nodded and took another sip of wine.
“I need you to find a Mate.”
No rage this time. Both Owen and his Dragon were too shocked to react.
His Alpha meant to marry him off?
For a long moment, the two Dragons simply stared at each other. Finally, Owen found his tongue.
“That’s insane.”
“Is it?”
“Who the hell needs a Mate?”
“Your Mate is the other half of your soul.” Lorde’s own eyes, sapphire blue, glittered with sudden light. The Alpha’s Dragon was reaching the end of its patience with his rebellion. “Are you seriously going to ask me who needs a whole soul?”
“Poetry,” Owen snarled. “Nonsense. What happened to reclaiming the world?”
His Alpha’s eyes lit
as his own Dragon grew vexed with Owen’s rebelliousness. “Jackson, what is a Dragon, truly?”
Wasn’t it obvious? He rolled his eyes. “A warrior.”
“Wrong. We’re Protectors. We protect – Wellsprings, Mates, this world.”
Details, details. Was ‘warrior’ really so different from ‘protector’? “The best way to protect the world is to destroy those who seek to harm it. Namely, the Fangs of Apophis.”
“And if the world dies while you defeat your foes? What good have you done?”
What a stupid question! The world wasn’t in danger!
“Look, I know you want to fly off right this moment, breathing fire and laying waste to our enemies. But you can’t. You’re not ready.”
“Why not?” Owen slammed his glass down, barely even noticing when its base cracked. “I was the one who destroyed that human trafficking ring in Amsterdam, remember? It was me who took care of those Rats smuggling drugs into Texas!”
Lorde’s own eyes glowed now, blue sapphires. “You’re not ready because you’re not fully a Dragon.”
Shock stunned Owen silent for one second, then his Dragon roared to life, burning with rage. Dagger-like claws sprouted from his hands, scales flashed along his arms as he grew, looming over his Alpha. “You insult me? You say I’m not a Dragon?”
Far from retreating, Lorde stepped closer. Their eyes locked and, even in the depths of its rage, his Dragon flinched as his Alpha faced him down. “A true Dragon is his own master. Look at yourself, Jackson. Look at yourself and tell me you’re true.”
The human half of his soul winced as the truth of that barb struck home. Yet, his Dragon raged. It longed to throw itself at Lorde. To challenge him, to fight him for the right to rule this Flight.
No, Owen ordered himself. That isn’t right.
Slowly, ragged breaths shaking his frame, he ordered his Dragon back. It fought him every inch of the way, seething with fury at Lorde’s ‘disrespect.’ But slowly, it subsided. Scales melted to skin once more. Fangs and talons vanished.
Lorde waited, ever-patient. In the end, when the last flame of rage died from Owen’s eyes, his Alpha resumed.