by Leela Ash
His Dragon turned its mind elsewhere, leaving him to stew.
Why was it so hard to accept that word?
Love.
“Owen?”
With a guilty start, he dropped those dark thoughts.
Surrounded by chattering kids, Ariel watched him. “Is everything okay? You seem distracted.”
“Yeah.” His smile seemed to reassure her. Even if it was false. “Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t.
It wasn’t at all.
Chapter 8
As the clock hands swept toward noon, Ariel found herself worrying.
Owen was late.
Normally, trips to the Warren took a couple hours. By 10:30 am the rumble of his Jeep announced his return home. She made lunch in the bright, airy kitchen, serenaded by the family’s laughter as they played outside. Those timeless moments held enough joy to break her heart.
Eleven o’clock came and went, and still, no sign of Owen. Something must have happened at the Warren. Maybe the Hares finally found some work for him to do.
Or maybe he finally found his Mate.
Her heart skipped a beat. A cloud scudded in front of the sun, throwing the kitchen into gloom, as if the sky could feel her fear.
It never left her. It the midst of her joy, in the heart of this family, that fear lurked. One day, probably soon, Owen Jackson would find the woman who would complete him. He would Claim her, uniting them forever.
And what would happen to her then? He’d have to fire her.
If he didn’t, she’d leave. To see him in love with someone else… it would kill her.
No, there was no question. The day he found his Mate was the day she had to leave.
And every morning, she wondered if this day was the day.
A distant shriek jerked her out of her sorrow.
Ariel snapped to attention, immediately scanning out the window for the children.
The boys were still playing with their trucks on the back lawn. Good. But Sydnee was no longer with them, obsessing over her phone.
Cursing her moment of inattention, Ariel strode outside.
There she was! Sydnee pelted across the lawn toward home.
Ariel sprinted toward her. Nobody who was seriously hurt could run that fast, but the girl was clearly frightened.
She caught the child as she staggered up. “Sydnee! What’s wrong? What happened?”
“There’s a girl! In the woods!”
That took the edge off her fear. Strange neighbors weren’t a threat. Plus, a quick scan of her charge revealed no injuries. Not even a bruise.
“And a man! I think he grabbed her or something.”
Ariel’s eyes narrowed and a Bear’s fierce love rose inside her. Strange men lurking in the woods was quite another matter. Yet, she couldn’t see any movement in the woods. “Where? Show me.”
Nervous, Sydnee led her to the edge of the lawn. “She was right here. She wouldn’t come out, but she talked to me. Her name’s Tamar.”
What an odd name. Was it from the Bible? “And the man?”
“I don’t know. Tamar said she was hungry so I went to get her some food. When I came back, I heard her cry and… and I saw a man. Here.”
“What did he look like?” Ariel edged forward, keeping herself between Sydnee and any hidden strangers.
“Nasty! He was dirty and skinny and… and… nasty! Just nasty!”
She pushed her way through a bit of undergrowth – and immediately came onto a path. Broad, worn flat by countless feet, it was clearly some local trail. Probably ran to the town or high school.
But where did it come from?
“Is she there?” Sydnee called.
Ariel glanced up and down the wide path. “No, I don’t see anyone.”
“I’m not lying!”
“I know you’re not,” Ariel assured her. Uneasy, she returned to her own property. “What did Tamar look like? Did she look okay?”
“No! She was filthy and skinny and she said she was starving. And her clothes were awful. Way too small and patched and dirty.”
All kinds of warning bells went off in her head. “Was she hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did she say anything odd?”
“Like what? I mean, she said she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers.”
That wasn’t odd, that was sound advice.
“I think he hurt her!” Sydnee whimpered. “She cried.”
Real danger – or an overprotective parent? “Did you see which way the man went?”
“That way.” The girl pointed down the trail, deeper into the woods.
“Ariel?” By now, the commotion had drawn the boys. They inched close, dump trucks clutched to their chests. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” Was that a lie or not? Was there a child in danger here? Or had Sydnee simply been startled by an ugly, poor man?
She didn’t know.
But, being Bear-kin, she couldn’t live with not knowing. “Sydnee, I need you to do something for me, okay?”
Wide-eyed, the girl nodded.
“Take your brothers back inside the house. Lock the doors. Don’t open them for anyone unless it’s your dad or me. Understand?”
All of the children paled. “What are you going to do?” Sydnee whispered.
“Nothing to worry about.” She forced a cheery smile even though her heart beat fast. “I’m going to see if I can find Tamar or that man.”
“But…”
“I’ll be fine. Now, go.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We’re not sure anything’s wrong. That man could be Tamar’s father.” Or the strange child could be in danger, right now. Ariel didn’t want to mention it, but in rural areas, it could take up to a half hour for the police to arrive.
She couldn’t wait that long. If Tamar really was in trouble, she needed to act. Now.
Once the children were safe inside, Ariel headed down the path at a jog. It wound through the pine trees, crossed a small creek on an ancient plank bridge, and ran along the base of the nearby hills. Soon, she came to a fork. One branch – clear, broad, and well-used – continued along the lowlands. A fainter path split from it and cut directly up the hillside.
Ariel considered the two routes. A lot of people traveled the big one, which meant the odds were good that Tamar went that way. But if you were up to no good, you wouldn’t go where everyone else was.
She chose the small path.
After a few hundred yards, she began to regret her choice. The path faded to a shadow of a trail that switched back and forth across the hard packed earth of the hillside. She began to wonder if she’d stumbled on a deer trail, something human feet weren’t meant to walk.
Yet, when she reached the crest of the ridge, she came out on a small pond. Here, the track grew clearer. It led to a rutted dirt road, and the road led to a small clearing.
It was, as Sydnee would have said, ‘nasty’.
Six rusting cars lay scattered about, surrounded by other debris. Metal barrels, a cracked toilet, dozens of bald tires. Ariel stepped carefully. The last thing she needed was a trip for a tetanus shot. In the midst of the squalor stood a decrepit trailer. Moss grew thick on its sagging roof. Did people actually live in that thing? She wouldn’t put chickens in it, much less herself!
A man sat on an upturned bucket in front of the trailer. One glance, and Ariel agreed with Sydnee’s assessment: nasty. Beady eyes glowered out of a small, pinched face. Oily locks of brown hair lay plastered to his skull. His patched jeans and wife-beater t-shirt were covered with grease, food, and other mysterious, vile things. Beyond the dirt and squalor, however, there was something alarming about him. The way his shifty eyes roved, never stopping. His hunched, unfriendly posture. She couldn’t put her finger on the source, but her gut warned her this man couldn’t be trusted.
Still, good manners were never wrong. “Hello, I’m Ariel Mc…”
He
spat, shocking her into silence. “This is private property. Yer trespassing.”
All right. So much for etiquette. She folded her arms across her chest and planted her feet. “Were you down at our house a few minutes ago?”
“I didn’t git on your land and I’ll thank you to git off mine. Now.”
“You were spying on my children.” Technically, they weren’t ‘hers.’ But they felt that way.
“I seen ‘em,” he admitted, “as I walked by. On a public path.”
“I don’t want you watching my children!”
He bared yellow, stained teeth in a snarl. “Keep ‘em inside if you don’t want nobody seeing ‘em. Ain’t my fault I could see ‘em from the trail.”
Ariel surveyed the junkyard around her. “Where’s the girl?”
“What girl?”
“Tamar.”
He gave no sign that the name meant anything to him. “Don’t know no ‘Tamar’.”
“Is she your daughter?” Lord, she hoped not! The thought of a child living in this filth set her Bear-blood boiling.
The stranger laughed at that suggestion. “Daughter? Do I look like the kinda man a woman would sleep with?”
Honestly, no. Which made this all the more worrisome. “Sydnee, my… my little girl…” She choked back the phrase that wanted to slip free: ‘my daughter.’ “She said you did something to a girl she was talking to.”
“Oh, is that yer ‘Tamar’? Yeah,” he shrugged. “When I come by on the path, there was a girl in the woods.”
“Sydnee says she heard her scream.”
“Yep. Guess she didn’t hear me come up.” He gave her a broad grin that was a few teeth short of a full smile. “You’d scream too if you turned around and saw me.”
Well, yes. She might. The first fingers of doubt touched her.
“She took off running. Dunno why. Dunno her, dunno where she went. I’d check down the main trail if I was you.”
“Do you mind if I look around for her?”
“Hell yeah I mind.” Real anger lit his small eyes. “I don’t barge into yer house and look about.”
One flash of fury, and then that anger sank into sullen petulance. “Course I mind it less ‘n’ I mind you calling the cops, so go ahead and have your look.”
That didn’t sound like an innocent man! “What makes you think I’m going to call the police?”
“You look like the sort that does that to people. Calls the cops, bitching about permits ‘n’ zoning ‘n’ all sorts of other shit.”
“And you’re worried about that?” she sniffed.
He waved at the yard around him. “Woman, I got six trucks here. You see a registration sticker on any one of them? I ain’t done nothing wrong but that ain’t gonna stop the cops from making my life miserable. Cost me a fortune in fines and fees and whatnot. So go on.” He spat again, a yellow glob of phlegm. “Snoop all you want. I don’t give a shit.”
He was worried about lapsed registration? That did sound innocent to her, and Ariel had to wonder if she was jumping to conclusions.
And yet…
And yet, there was something wrong about this man. Something shifty, sly, and untrustworthy. She couldn’t ignore her instincts.
Not when a child could be in danger.
And so, she searched the property. Inside junked cars and an abandoned refrigerator which really ought to be chained shut. Around a shack and the remains of an ancient chicken coop, long since abandoned by its flock. She even stuck her head inside his trailer (which turned out to be the cleanest place on the property, much to her surprise).
All her efforts turned up nothing. No Tamar. No signs of a struggle or a pen where a kidnapped child might be locked away. No toys, no children’s clothes… not a single scrap of evidence against him.
All the time, he watched her, glowering silently. Finally, she had to give up.
“You done?”
“I am.” She ought to feel embarrassed by her rudeness, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had missed something. “Thank you.”
“You ain’t welcome. Will you just git now?”
“I will.” Before she left, though, she had one more question. “What’s your name?”
“Smith. Walker Smith.”
Good. A very unusual name. One that would show up easily in Google searches. Ariel nodded and headed back toward the path home.
You haven’t heard the last of me, Mr. Smith. You’re up to something, and I’m going to find out what it is.
Chapter 9
Another day at the Warren. Another whole lot of nothing to do.
Owen had the patter down now, after a month of daily visits to the spacious farmhouse that held Clarissa and her Witch Hares. Every morning, he did his round of the researchers. Same questions, same answers.
“Morning, Elisi! Need anything? Nope? Okay. Hey, Gerta, how’s the research going? Great, great, any angles I can help with? No? Okay. Hello, Sandy. Feng Shui still looking good this morning? Yup? Great, great, uh, you need anything? No? Okay…”
Last stop on the tour was Clarissa Lange’s office. As always, the Witch Queen was a vision. Perfect curls, flawless makeup, the hint of a rich perfume – Chanel? Hermes? – lingering in the air around her. “I’m starting to feel guilty about making you drive over here. Can I at least get you something to drink? Wine? Whiskey?”
At eight in the morning? Even at his worst, he never started drinking this early. “No thanks. If there’s nothing you need, I’ll just head home.” A full day with the kids and Ariel actually sounded wonderful. Maybe they could head over to Mt. Shasta. Have lunch at some nice little bistro, go for a hike.
Or, better yet, find someplace to park the kids for a bit so that he and his nanny could have some time alone. They got so little of it. Who knew that children were so much work?
Well, parents probably know that.
True – but it was news to him.
Clarissa wasn’t letting him go so easily, however. “No, please, sit. Let’s talk a bit, shall we? Maybe I can take you out for lunch.”
It was eight. Did she expect him to sit around, twiddling his thumbs, for four hours?
Vexed, his Dragon stirred. He wasn’t a lapdog. He was a Dragon. Helping a Warren was fine (sort of… though the task felt menial…). But why wouldn’t Lorde let him check in by phone, rather than in person? Why ask him to waste all this time?
He probably expects me to get to know these ladies. See if one of them might be my Mate.
When what he really wanted to do was go home to her.
Ariel.
The one woman who, he knew, definitely wasn’t his Mate.
That thought took the wind out of his Dragon, and it settled again, grumbling. Owen, too, took a seat.
Clarissa’s bright smile widened. “You forgot this yesterday, by the way.” She stepped over beside him and held out a tiny vial.
Oh, right. Morning dew, collected when the first ray of sunlight hit it, by a naked virgin.
According to the Hares, this was a fantastic way to spot your True Love. Wash your face with it in the evening and it would bring you dreams of your soul mate.
Elisi finished the potion three days ago. And, for three days, he’d left it behind. “Sorry.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t want help finding a Mate. Is there someone who’s caught your eye?” Her hand dropped to his shoulder and lingered there.
“Not really, no. Sorry. I guess Dragons are pretty fussy.”
“And why shouldn’t they be?” Her voice grew deeper, sultrier. One finger brushed against his ear. “Dragons are the kings of our world. Royal, regal. Dominant. The lords, by nature, of all Shifter kind. You deserve the most beautiful, most powerful Mate. No lesser woman is worthy of you.”
She stroked his neck lightly.
Just in case I’m a complete moron and can’t see what she’s hinting at…
Owen stood, breaking the contact, and wandered over to the window. “I don’t think po
wer has much to do with it. My Alpha Claimed a normal woman. Well, she’s Kin, but nobody knows where the Shifter blood came into her family.”
“Interesting.” The Witch Hare followed him. The scent of her perfume surrounded him and then she snuggled up against him. “What’s her name?”
“Hannah.”
“Hannah what?”
“I don’t recall her maiden name.”
“Ah.” Clarissa sounded oddly disappointed by that.
“You could ask my Alpha.”
“Oh, it’s not really important.” She set the vial of dew on the sill in front of him.
Owen ignored it. He tried to ignore her, too, though she was making that difficult.
“Have you seen the Wellspring?”
“No. Lorde doesn’t let many people go there. Trying to keep it secret as long as possible. It’s easier to defend a place if your enemies don’t know where it is.”
She laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle and pressed against his side. “Clever. Though, I’d guess it’s somewhere near Los Angeles, judging by how much time Mr. Lorde spends there.”
She tracked his Alpha’s movement that closely? The admission disturbed him – until he remembered that she was working on Wellsprings. They probably spoke on a regular basis. Nothing ominous there.
And hell, she was dead, flat wrong. The Wellspring was in Upstate New York. He knew that, even if he’d never been there.
“Does your Flight have any idea why this Wellspring survived when all the others faded?” Clarissa asked.
“It was dead too.”
The Witch Hare wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that.”
Owen shrugged. “My Alpha says his Mate woke it.”
“How? She’s not a Witch Hare or even a Shifter!”
“Love.”
Clarissa gave a very unladylike snort. “Nonsense. Despite the fairy tales, love doesn’t have any magical powers.”
“If you want details, you’ll have to ask him. He insists the love of his Mate brought it to life.”
“You realize that that’s ridiculous, yes? An oxymoron on its face. Dragons need Wellsprings to Claim their Mates. Ergo Lorde’s Mate couldn’t have awoken it, because she wouldn’t have been his Mate unless it was already awake.”