by Sadie Sears
If Gretta hadn’t hired me to protect her, and I hadn’t already decided to do whatever it took to keep her safe, I would have gone all in now.
She continued between another couple of bites. “Anyway, I’m glad you got up because I forgot to thank you for letting us stay here. There’s no way I would’ve been able to sleep after what happened at the grocery store.” I rolled my eyes. “And staying at Sophie’s or Gretta’s would’ve been all I told you so.”
In daylight, she was beautiful. But lit by only the rays of the moon, she was ethereal, glowing, exquisite. There were better words, but I was too mesmerized to use them.
It took a second to snap out of the haze and realize I should reply. “I wouldn’t have said that to you, but you’re not really sleeping now.”
She chuckled, soft, a little bell-like sound. “True.” She looked down into the empty tub of ice cream. “And it looks like we finished this, so, uh, goodnight?”
I nodded because I couldn’t speak without making a bigger fool of myself than I’d already used this day to be. But I watched her walk down the hall, the sway of her hips, the slight limp, her dark hair bouncing like she was in a shampoo commercial. I was so screwed.
And by morning, I wasn’t better. I was only more determined to make her feel safe. To keep her safe, and also well-fed. By the time they woke, I had a breakfast fit for a queen laid out on the table. Fresh squeezed orange juice, sliced melon and berries, toast slathered in not-quite-butter, butter alternative, and omelets with plant-based cheese that was in with the groceries she’d bought, and I planned to replace.
“Wow. This smells great.” Lila pushed her hair back and caught it in a ponytail as she walked into the kitchen. As she took me in fully, she smiled and gave me a warm once-over. “Nice apron.”
Oh, shit. I forgot I was wearing it. It was a housewarming gift from Sam that read Kiss the Cook in bold red letters and was adorned with lip imprints on the fabric. A couple of egg splatters, too. “Thanks.” And if she kept looking at me like that—with half-lidded eyes and parted lips—I’d wear it all day, every day.
Zoe strolled in a few seconds after her mother, and we sat in the same spots as last night. She smiled and used her fork to slice a bite of her omelet and brought it to her nose for a sniff. She cocked her head as though it passed inspection then slipped the fork between her lips. After she chewed and swallowed, she nodded to me. “This is so good.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s high praise. She hates weed cheese.”
I cocked an eyebrow, and Lila chuckled. “It’s what she calls non-dairy cheese because it’s made with plants.”
“So, I saw a picture of you in the hallway with a bunch of guys in uniforms. You were in the army?” Zoe stared at me while I smothered my omelet in Tabasco and pepper—one shaker in each hand.
I liked Zoe’s directness and the way she paid attention to things kids her age usually didn’t. I nodded. “Yeah. I did some special ops work with a small unit. Sometimes we had a little downtime, so I learned to cook because the guy assigned to be our cook was more canned spaghetti rings than actual chef.” Not that I would or could ever tell him since he hadn’t made it home, but I didn’t mention that. I didn’t want to bring the mood down by oversharing.
“Well, you could be on one of those cooking shows like on Food TV. I bet the grocery store guy would love you.” Zoe had almost cleaned her plate.
“She’s right, Leath. If you can get this kid to eat weed cheese, there’s no telling what you could do with food for the masses. You should open a restaurant. You are depriving the fine people of Spruce of your amazing culinary skills. And that’s kind of not fair to them.”
Heat bloomed in my chest. Pride. Gratitude. It’d been years, if ever, since anyone complimented me with such enthusiasm. “Um, thanks, but I like to keep my skills on the downlow. Recipe plagiarism is a big business these days. I don’t want to be a victim.” She was so easy to joke with, so easy to talk to. And look at. And be with. My dragon was awake and noticing.
“I don’t think anyone is ever going to look at you and think victim.” She chuckled.
Now my cheeks felt warm. “I was thinking that after we finish, I could go to your place, have a look around. Check for any signs of—” I didn’t want to say too much in front of Zoe. “Anything.”
“And I need to go by Sophie’s. That will give Zoe and Shae, Sophie’s daughter, time to hang out while you do it. How’s that sound, Zoe?”
Zoe gave the typical teenager, one-shoulder shrug. “Sure.”
So, we had a plan. And as soon as the dishwasher was loaded, we left. Sophie’s house was past Lila’s, up the mountain and deeper into the forest, but safe enough I didn’t fear leaving her there. As soon as I dropped Lila off, my dragon wanted her back, but I had to make sure she was safe, dragon or not, and if I found something, I wanted time to figure out how to make her safe in spite of whatever it was.
I called in reinforcements because I didn’t know what kind of danger this stalker intended to cause her—and she’d been through enough with the wizards setting up in Vermont and infiltrating Spruce. But if she so much as broke a nail, I planned to punish this fool for it when I found him. And my gut said it was definitely a him.
While I waited for Cameron to show, I checked the windows and the doors. There were no signs of forced entry, real or attempted. I hadn’t found any tool marks or broken wood around the windows or door frames. Good news because, even though she’d been a good sport about last night, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I would be able to convince her to move in with me. Yet.
By the time I made it off the roof and bellycrawled around the house to check for gaps and spaces in the foundation that I didn’t find, Cam had arrived with Vincent. “I thought the pretty boy could scout the area. He was going to go for a flight this morning anyway.”
Cam elbowed Vincent, who had his go-bag with him. We all kept go-bags with us just in case we had to change form. Sometimes it happened pre-nudity so extra clothes were just the smart move, and sometimes we didn’t get to land in the same place we’d taken off so we each had stashed bags in various places around the perimeter of Spruce and in the mountains. I kept basic toiletries in my bag, too, in case someone found it and wondered why I kept clothes in the car. Lots of humans kept bags in their cars for the gym and stuff, but my paranoia came from a time when we had to hardcore hide our existence.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“You know me. I’m a helper.” Vincent grinned his still-boyish grin and walked into the trees.
Cam glanced at the house then at me. “You find anything?”
I shook my head. “Nothing paranormal. No spells or dark magic.” That counted out witches or wizards who might’ve been lurking nearby. “I think they’re human. I smelled someone near the gate the other day, but there was no trace near her house.”
“Yeah?” Cam stilled and the air stopped with him as if it responded to his unspoken command. Spoiler alert—it wasn’t. It was responding to Vincent, swooping low over the trees above us. He was an air dragon.
Cam shook his head. “I don’t feel anything off-kilter, either. I think you’re right.”
Not to be a cocky bastard, but of course I was right. This was too important to me to get wrong. If I said it, it wasn’t a guess. But I let him check the house and all the windows and doors I’d already checked. By the time he finished, Vincent was back and dressed, go-bag stowed in Cam’s car.
“So, you and the yogi?” Vincent was younger than the rest of us and an air dragon who loved to fly, but he was intuitive. And pretty cocky for a guy who was built more like a ballet dancer than a boxer.
“She’s more than that.” So much more.
But he grinned at Cam who grinned at me. “Somebody’s got his britches in a bunch.”
“I’m taking heat from the two of you. Really?” Vincent was never more than a couple of beers from a drunk dial to an ex whose family tried to buy him o
ff, and Cam hadn’t been with a woman for more than a night in too many years for it to be polite to mention. But they were staring, and I wasn’t up to this kind of scrutiny. “Yes. Okay, fine. I’m losing my freaking mind over her. Told her I want to claim her.”
“After two days?” Cam’s eyes weren’t just saucers, they were the whole plate.
“Less than an hour.” I groaned and facepalmed. I was as pathetic as I sounded, and there was nothing I could do about it, either. She had me tangled in ways I wasn’t even interested in straightening out if it meant I would lose this feeling, but no way was I telling them that.
“Did you see it?” Vincent wasn’t talking to me, even though he hadn’t stopped staring. “Did you see the second he closed up on us? He’s going to build walls and wait until she’s about to say yes and shut her down.”
He knew so little. There was no way I could shut her down. No way I could mess this up. Lila was every urge I had, every breath I took.
Cam grinned, doing his empath thing—which was completely against the rules—on me. “He’s going to be fine, Vincey. Don’t worry.” I walked them to the porch. It would’ve been as easy to punch either of them in the throat as it was to listen to their ribbing, but that wasn’t what friends did, so I kept my hands down.
“I’m just saying, don’t blow it with her. This kind of thing only happens once and if you don’t hold onto it with both hands, it can disappear.” Vincent frowned. He knew the pain of loss better than most of us.
And he spoke words of wisdom if ever I heard them.
6
Lila
I left Zoe with Shae and Sophie because I was being pulled away from them, drawn to my house and the man waiting there. I’d never felt such a restlessness or need to get anywhere as I did to go home. And there was no way I could deny it was because he was there. Because Leath Lane was in my house, waiting for me.
“What are you doing?” The voice would’ve startled me if it didn’t belong to Leath. If I hadn’t spent the night dreaming of it and him.
“Just walking home. I wanted to check on you to see if—” But he came to stand in front of me, eyes greener than any green I’d ever seen, and a tight set to his lips. I took a step back. Not because I was afraid, but because he looked so fierce, dangerous. I was more afraid of touching him inappropriately than of him hurting me. Somehow he’d gone from a dragon who wanted to bite me to a man who wanted to protect me—a sexy man who wanted to protect me.
“You walked back here by yourself.” His thin-lipped frown transformed into a scowl.
I nodded, even though I was supposed to say no if I had any hope of getting the rest I hoped for today.
“Through the woods.” And the scowl deepened.
This wasn’t a moment that would benefit from more words, so I nodded again.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Well, I can’t find any signs of your stalker here anyway, but I saw the pictures. He’s been here before, at least around the gate.” He gestured over his shoulder and sighed again. “But I suppose if you keep it closed and locked, it would be safe for you and Zoe to stay here tonight.”
I didn’t want the disappointment in his voice to affect me so, but I was a breath away from agreeing to stay at his place again. Even though my business was here, and all my stuff, fresh clothes, my own toothbrush, my privacy. My reasons to stay home should’ve outnumbered the reasons I wanted to go back to a virtual stranger’s place, but for some reason it didn’t. I saw Leath’s face again, lit up by the moonlight as we shared a tub of ice cream in his kitchen, and I caught my hand before it reached out entirely on its own.
“That’s great.” I pushed enthusiasm into my voice so hard, I could’ve broken a rib. “You have done so much for Zoe and me. I don’t even know how to thank you.” Well, I did. There would be a bill. I could send a card or a bottle of whisky or some guy thing that didn’t harm the environment or hurt a living creature. “You should go enjoy your Saturday.”
“I’ve been enjoying my Saturday.” The voice, the smile, the sincerity in those emeralds he called eyes all worked together to make me forget words.
“Uh, um. I get it, but I have a lot to do.” I didn’t. A pile of books to read and a hot date with my favorite streaming service if it was going to be a normal day. And I needed a little normal. Plus, I was still aching. Not bad, but enough I needed to relax and stay off my feet for a while. Plus, plus, who in his right mind would have wanted to spend the day babysitting me and my daughter or protecting us from a psycho who might or might not have wanted to do me harm?
He stepped close enough that I could smell the scent of his citrus and cedar cologne, and I took a covert but deep breath.
“I'm a full-service Dragon for Hire. And I can’t go anywhere until we catch this guy. So, if that means I have to sit on your porch keeping watch, that’s where I’ll be.” Even stubborn determination on this guy looked good.
“Tenacity isn’t especially attractive.” Neither was lying, but that didn’t stop me from thinking tenacity was as attractive as every other thing he did.
His cocked eyebrow signaled a dare. I sighed. This was ridiculous. And I wasn’t going to stand outside and argue with him. I didn’t have the patience for it, or the inclination, or the will. I crossed my arms and stared back. It wasn’t until he flicked his tongue out and swiped along his lower lip that I gave in. Not because of his tongue, nice as it was, as much as I wanted to taste it, but because I didn’t need to prove anything to him. And if I didn’t argue, maybe he would get bored and go away.
So, I threw my hands up, turned as quickly as my aching body would allow, and went inside.
I didn't have any appointments that day, so I didn’t bother venturing farther than the foyer and climbed the stairs very slowly. When I made it to my room, I busied myself with the pile of books next to my bed. The business text had been awaiting my attention for a while, and I understood why I’d ignored it when I felt myself nodding off. I put it aside.
There had to be something better in my long ignored to-be-read list. And I had the determination and a lot of recuperation time to pass. So, I moved onto a book about empowering the inner goddess. But I got distracted by the green cover that reminded me of Leath’s eyes and set it down. I gave up on reading when my favorite romance novel failed to hold my interest and no matter what the words said, I saw Leath’s name, then imagined him in the scenes. And no way were such thoughts conducive to relaxation. I was squirming when I finally threw that one aside.
By then, I’d had to switch on the bedside lamp because the sun was low on the horizon and my room was semi-dark, so I let my eyes drift closed for just a minute. I didn’t need much. A power nap to revitalize and get me through. But when I woke again, the sun was gone, the moon was up, and I was in pain, a full-fledged, burning pain in my legs to go along with the numbness in my hands, which somehow, instead of being an absence of feeling, managed to hurt.
I should’ve brought my medicine up to my room. I also should’ve listened to Gretta when she lobbied for selling this house so I would have the money to buy a one-story for me and Zoe that would be easier to manage when I relapsed. Although back then, she’d put it as “just in case” I relapsed. Because back then, we’d been optimistic I could control it. Turned out, mind over matter and the power of positive thinking didn’t work with MS.
In any case, I needed to get my medicine from the kitchen cabinet where I kept it. But as I staggered to the bedroom door and managed to use my almost useless hands to twist the knob, I heard it. A sound from downstairs. Not the creak of an old house, not the click of an air conditioner. This was the very defined thump of footsteps and the rumble of a masculine voice. Oh, God. There was someone in my house. Someone who had taken pictures of me and plastered them to my windshield. Someone watching me.
My heart raced, and my palms were clammy, but this was my house, by God, and I wasn’t about to let some stalker take the sanctity of it away from me.
&nb
sp; I glanced back for a weapon. My choices—one of about ten paperback books, a pillow, a blanket, or a slipper—didn’t offer much in terms of protection unless distracting him with a pillow fight was a thing. I’d be lucky if I could even lift the pillow to throw at him in the first place.
But if I could make it to the kitchen—my cell was plugged in next to the stove—for an emergency call and a drawer of very adequate weapons, which doubled as vegetable slicers, I had a chance to get this guy before he got me. Thank God Zoe wasn’t here. The thought of my daughter gave me the strength to make it to the steps, to take the first three without hesitation. I faltered on the fourth then picked up a head of steam that propelled me down the last seven.
At the landing before the little turn and the final couple of steps, I stopped and listened. “Sucker! Take that!”
Zoe. It was Zoe’s voice. When had she gotten home? Oh, God. If anything happened to her because I was too decrepit to protect her, I would never forgive anyone, much less myself.
I slipped down to the main floor and rounded the wall to the living room. For being such a big ta-da moment, it was surprisingly anticlimactic. Almost a comic letdown. Zoe was on the sofa and Leath in the chair with a board game dotted with red hotels and little green houses between them. She had almost all of the property cards in front of her, and Leath was down to a very small pile of dollars.
“Zoe!” Surprise and relief made my voice shrill.
She whipped her head toward the door. “Mom!”
“Leath!” This was not going to help my relapse. I took a slow, deep breath. “Now that we’ve taken roll call, what the hel—” I never swore in front of Zoe, no matter how slight. “Helpful Harvey are you doing in here?”
He scrunched his brow, but there was no way he didn’t understand such a straightforward question, and Zoe laughed. “Who’s Harvey?” Her feigned concern came in a cocked shoulder and a pulled back chin.