Dragons For Hire: A Dragon Shifter Romance

by Sadie Sears

  “Come on!” I yanked him backward, dragged him toward the steps, near the porch where Lila stood with her back against the front of the house. The sun was starting to set and the night air cooled, bringing goosebumps to her skin while mine burned from anger and dragon. “Who the fuck are you?” I repeated.

  “I’m Frank.” And when he saw her, he stopped struggling and made his voice softer. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you in town, and I have a—” He held up his cane. “I have a cane, too. See?” He took a step closer to her, but I jerked him back again. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  She didn’t ask how he found out where she lived, or question why he’d chosen hiding in her bushes as a way to build his courage, or even take a step away for her own safety. This woman had no sense of danger, and as attractive as I found her absence of fear, my breath hitched because I knew what threats lurked in the dark. This creepy little fucker was one of them, and if she wasn’t going to watch out for them herself, I was never going to be able to quell my apprehension.

  Lila tilted her head, and I didn’t have to have a sixth sense or any special intuition to know she was going to invite this guy in. She was like a neon sign of emotion. “Do you want to come in? Sit down and talk?”

  I shook my head, and she shot me a glare over top of this guy whose shirt was still bunched in my fist.

  “I think Frank should go home now.” It wasn’t a suggestion. My tone made that clear and earned me a glare from Lila.

  She sighed. “Maybe Leath’s right. But another day you could come back and sign up for a yoga class. We could talk then.”

  She was out of her mind, and I frowned, once again grateful her glares didn’t have power. At best, I would’ve been rendered mute.

  But Frank handled it for me, his voice wavering and weak, his eyes pooled with tears. “I won’t bother you again. I’m sorry, Lila.”

  But she smiled and moved close enough she could lay her hand on his shoulder. “The offer for classes stands. Yoga helps a great deal with mobility and pain management.” She gave him her soft glance, the one filled with compassion and caring, when he nodded. “Just call me and make an appointment. If you go through the channels, I’ll be able to have a plan in place when you come, and we can talk about what you need and how I can help.”

  I didn’t care what he said. He was a stalker. The classic peeping Tom kind. And his silly, gushing nod, the way he held on a few extra seconds than necessary when she shook his hand, watching her until she disappeared inside then staring at the door like he could make her reappear, all gave him away.

  This time, I pulled him down the steps to the yard, his body jerking and feet stumbling as I gave him a shove. “Get out of here.” He hadn’t taken more than three steps when I called out. “Hey, Frank?” He stopped and turned when a smarter man would’ve run and hidden. “Don’t call her. Don’t come back here.”

  I closed the distance between us because I didn’t want anyone but him to hear what I had to say. “Do you know what I am?” When Frank nodded, I smiled. This wasn’t a card I played often because I didn’t have to since I was already a big guy, but this time, I wanted his fear. My dragon wanted it, and I wasn’t above using him to keep this bastard away from Lila. I lowered the pitch of my voice to a throaty growl. “Then you know what I can do. What I will do if I ever see you anywhere near her again. Including hanging around the front gate, where you were the other day.”

  His eyes widened and he nodded again, then turned to hobble away. I watched until he walked out of the gate, then I closed it behind him.

  The sky was gold and pink with shades of amber and purple, but not even that was enough to help me clear my head as I walked back from the gate to the house. I didn’t understand how she could be so kind to someone who’d gone to the lengths of following her, taking photos and attaching them to her car, leaving a note inside her house to scare her. And no way did I buy the “poor me” act with the cane and the wobble. He’d certainly hit hard enough for a guy with limited mobility.

  The house was quiet when I walked in, but Lila was in the living room where I’d left her when I went outside. She had her eyes closed; her hands clasped across a pillow lying on her stomach as she reclined in the corner of the sofa. I would’ve thought, after coming face to face with her stalker, she would be frantic, maybe even panicked, but she could’ve been napping for how relaxed she looked.

  A sinking feeling rolled into my stomach and settled. Frank wasn’t the only thing that was off about this night.

  She opened her eyes and turned her face toward me. “Zoe went to bed.”

  I nodded. If she was going to tell me to go, to tell me now that we knew Frank was the stalker, she could handle her own business, I sure as hell wasn’t going to give her the opening.

  “Thank you for going out there, for taking care of me.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, and fear darkened her eyes. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  I didn’t make idle threats, so if he was smart, he would stay away because I meant what I said to him. “I don’t think so, but if he calls and tries to schedule a class, refuse. Okay?” I waited for her nod or for any sign she would listen to me, for something that said she understood there was a real danger associated with this guy.

  “I can’t do that, Leath. I could never refuse someone who needs my help.”

  The goodness in her heart, the empathy she wore like a badge wouldn’t let her. “Okay, but if he makes an appointment, make sure you’re not alone here when he comes. And don’t do a one-on-one with this guy.” Even the thought made me want to throttle him. Every muscle I had tightened, pulled. I would kill Frank before I ever let him be alone with Lila in her yoga studio or this house or any other place he might try to run into her.

  She smiled up at me, a sweet angelic beam I would take with me to every dream I ever had from then on. “I promise, Leath. I’m not going to take any chances with Frank or anyone else. But I really think he’s harmless.”

  I relaxed as much as I could, comfortable in the knowledge she would be careful, and I would be there if he showed up again.

  She patted the sofa beside her, and when I sat, she smiled and patted the extra space I’d left between us. As much as I wanted to touch her, as much as I needed to, I couldn’t unless she gave me some kind of okay, so I curled my fingers into my palm on my lap then smoothed them down my jeans. When she scooted closer, so our thighs were a hair’s breadth apart, I smiled, intoxicated by the soft curve of her face, the sweet flowery scent of her shower gel, the light in her eyes.

  I needed to stop thinking like some lovesick fool because the last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself and ruin everything just when we were making progress, but I couldn’t. I looked away because staring at her like I wanted to devour her, or at least bite her, wouldn’t strengthen the bond I wanted to forge with her.

  “What’s this?” I picked up a photo album I hadn’t noticed before from the table.

  She took it and opened the cover. “It’s me. My life in pictures.” She ran her hand over the first page of pictures, her long, delicate fingers brushing away a piece of dust on the protective plastic covering.

  My dragon stirred, and I imagined him pacing. Touching her drove him, drove us both wild. I just controlled it better.

  She pointed out a picture of her, left arm in a bright pink cast, and her right hand holding a rope. “I was swinging on a rope I hung on the tree in the backyard. I’d watched Tarzan. But I must’ve skipped knot-tying day at boat school so down I went. This was immediately after the trip to the hospital.”

  She pointed out another, a birthday picture complete with balloons, party hats, and a hundred kids around a little brown-haired girl and her ten-candle cake. “My double-digit birthday.”

  The next photo was Lila and Gretta both with ice cream on their faces and smushed cones in their hands while they stood next to a station wagon. “Dad thought it was funny to slam on the brakes right as we were tak
ing a bite.”

  There were pictures of her first boy-girl party, her and Sophie in curlers with some sort of cotton at their hairlines. “Oh, this was the bad hair year. Perms were not the best idea we’d ever had, but we saw reruns of that show with the girl at college and she had the best spiral perm. We were going to be trend setters.” She chuckled. “We were more like French poodles. It was also the year I insisted on plaid skirts and knee socks because I saw that on TV, too.”

  Every picture, every word took me a little deeper, made me like her a little more.

  After we looked at pictures of her prom, her high school graduation, her in the hospital on the day she had Zoe, she closed the book and patted the front. Took a deep breath. Then another. “You never get sick?”

  “No. Dragon blood is extraordinary. We don’t get sick, and we heal from injuries at a rate too fast to comprehend.” I wanted her to know all of it, wanted to tell her everything, and more than that, I wanted her to choose this as her future because I was long past the point of being able to live without her. “Occasionally, dragons, ether dragons, specifically, can suffer from mental illness. They’re gifted with empathy and feeling other people’s emotions can wear on them.”

  “And there are different kinds of dragons; water, fire, ether, air, and you’re earth?”

  Oh, God, her curious look was as beautiful as any other. Every other. Raised eyebrows, corners of her mouth pulled in, head tilted to catch the light like she’d choreographed the move. It was almost enough to make me lose control, and it was distracting as hell. I sat back just a bit. “Yeah. If we—I mean, if I—well, you would be an earth dragon.” I was stuttering like a desperate schoolboy. So pathetic.

  “I know the lore, you know, the things we all heard growing up, but I’ve never really had a chance to sit down and discuss the facts with any actual dragons.” Her skin colored again.

  I wanted to reach for her, cup her face as if I could brush away her embarrassment and make her more comfortable talking to me about it, but I needed to take this at a crawl. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” I really wanted to talk about her, but if I had to go first so she would be comfortable, I would.

  “Truth?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Sometimes, living with MS is—” She puffed out her cheeks and widened her eyes as she blew out the breath. “It’s hard, especially when relapse is in full swing.” She almost smiled but hadn’t looked at me yet.

  I wanted to comfort her, wanted her to know I would take her, her baggage, the family baggage, hell, if she had a dog or a hamster or pet snake in the backyard, I’d take their baggage, too. But I only laid my hand over hers on the front of the photo album. And when she brought her gaze to meet mine, I fell in deep. “If there’s anything I can do…”

  I wanted her to ask me to fix it, to take her pain away, to complete the claiming that destiny had planned for us, but I also didn’t want to push. She needed time to digest and understand all of it. Maybe if she asked more questions, I could answer her in a way that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. Again.

  “Will you stay?” She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. “Please. Just in case I need help or…” She shrugged, uncertain. “I know I’m running rather hot and cold. I’m sorry.”

  She looked so miserable. “I understand. You’re going through so much. Yes. It would be my pleasure.” She turned her hand under mine and laced our fingers together. “Lila.” Her name was my whisper, my hymn. And I would’ve happily sat on her sofa all night with her hand in mine, her smile pointed at me, but she pulled away and looked down before she cleared her throat.

  “I’m really tired. Relapse is kind of draining.” She shook her head and put the album on the table. “Would you mind helping me upstairs? I'll show you where the blankets and extra pillows are. The sofa doesn’t fold out, but it’s comfortable.” She looked at it and sighed. “And about a foot too short. I could ask Zoe—”

  “No.” She was tired and in pain. She’d wasn’t thinking clearly and forgotten I’d slept on it already. I knew where she kept the extra blankets. I shook my head and helped her stand. I chuckled as we walked. “The sofa is fine. I only look this tall up close. You put me on a sofa, and I shrink. It’s a scientific phenomenon the doctors, the wizards, no one really gets the physics of it, but it’s like magic.” I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, and she grinned. Her thinking I had the power to turn myself into a puny half-man was a small price to pay for the beauty of that smile.

  10

  Lila

  When I woke, I wanted to shout, “Good morning,” at the top of my lungs. I wanted to dance my way into the shower, and I was almost back to normal enough I could. My legs ached less, my hands hadn’t been numb since Tuesday, and I hadn’t had any blurry vision since Monday. Thursday was looking good. I probably had Leath to thank for it. Absolutely had Leath to thank for it. He made sure my medication was on time, and that I had healthy meals.

  I smiled and headed to the shower. Steam rolled through the bathroom, misting the mirror, and the perfumed scent of my shower floated into the bedroom where I pulled on my clothes and stifled a yawn. We’d stayed up late talking about his time abroad. I couldn’t imagine having a hundred sixty something years of memories. I had trouble keeping thirty-four years straight.

  Last night, I hadn’t wanted to go to bed because I didn’t want to stop listening to the timbre of his voice, the resonance in the tones, the depth of every syllable. If this dragon thing didn’t work out for him, he had a big future in voice-over work. The voice, though, was nothing compared to the eyes and the smile and the body. If I had one ounce of lyrical skill, I would’ve written sonnets, heavy metal anthems, poetry, something to commemorate this guy.

  I glanced out the window. Just a few days ago, he’d stood in my backyard after his flight, after he’d turned from dragon to man, and the image of naked Leath hadn’t managed to make it far from my mind’s eye since. The muscle definition, the power in his stride, the sheer size of him—not that I’d seen all of him, but what I had seen made all the other men created before him obsolete.

  And I couldn’t wait to get downstairs to see him. Breakfast or not. I checked the mirror—he’d seen me in worse shape—smoothed my hair, flipped it over my shoulder, then walked out into the hallway. At the top of the stairs, I paused, listened.

  “You let him go? Why the hell would you let her stalker go?” Anger seethed through Gretta’s voice. “He’s a freaking stalker.”

  “He was harmless, and I made sure he knows she’s off limits.” Leath had the good sense not to patronize her. I hoped so anyway. So far, so good.

  “Then what are you still doing here?” Oh, God, she had a bite these days, despite being happier than I’d ever seen her.

  “I wanted to keep an eye on her.”

  I pictured him smiling at Gretta because he oozed charm, and I didn’t think her bad mood would change him.

  “I’ve got it now.”

  What? What did she just say? Was she trying to send him away? I grabbed the handrail, prepared to leap down the stairs to put a stop to it.

  But Leath chuckled. “All right. But you should know, I would never let anything happen to her. She’s…” He sighed. “Everything.”

  I didn’t hear Gretta’s mumbled reply, but I managed to catch a louder second thought. “Okay, but…”

  I tuned out everything after okay. At least she wouldn’t gripe at him until he ran out the door. He didn’t seem like he would be easy to run off and if anyone had tried, I had. And I loved Gretta. Her bedside manner was a lot softer since she’d been with Sam, but I was about ten feet over my head in love with Leath’s bedside manner. Not in love with Leath. Just the way he took care of me.

  In love with was probably a bad word choice. But just the same, I hated being Gretta’s burden. And Leath had never made me feel like it was any great trial to get my pills or make dinner or help me upstairs when the fatigue was too much. And because h
e made it so easy, I never hid anything from him. If I was in pain, I was in pain. If I was tired, I was tired. I didn’t play off a single symptom like I was fine. And he didn’t act like I should.

  I stood at the top of the steps so long, lost in my own Leath thoughts of the day, I almost ran into Gretta as she came up. “Hey. I was just coming down.”

  “You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Mom used to say that. Gretta had a way of keeping them alive and fresh through little things she did that brought back the best memories for both of us.

  I smiled because this was a good day, and when we had good days, I liked to file them in my memory accompanied by my brightest, happiest grins. “New day, new me.” I wasn’t really new or even completely back to normal, but I was much better than two days ago and a world of different than three.

  “And he’s cooking?”

  I sniffed the French toast-scented air and shrugged. “He’s better at it.” Though I cooked healthy meals with organic produce, nothing I ever made tasted so delicious. It was a strange phenomenon, and I smiled to myself.

  “And Zoe likes him?”

  Of course she did. “Probably thinks he walks on water.” Zoe loved the lore, but sometimes she smashed it all together to create her own universal set of rules. It was cute when she was younger, but I wasn’t sure if she still did it or not. A little part of me hoped so. “They play board games.” Several times now.

  “Jealous?”

  “No, I hate the one they keep picking, with all the little houses and fake money.” And that was all she was getting out of me. It was really all I was willing to say even to myself. I didn’t want to think about how it warmed my heart to hear them bicker over hotels and rents and get out of jail free cards, or how standing here a day later, I could still see Leath’s surprise turn to happiness when Zoe hugged him before she went to bed.