Tristan: The Manning Dragons ― Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance

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Tristan: The Manning Dragons ― Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance Page 13

by Kathi S. Barton


  “One of the crowd shot him.” Arthur said that one of his officers did it while he was running away. “Then I don’t understand about the crowd of people.”

  “They were throwing things at him. Knives and the such. Some of them had big old pumpkins that were hard as stone, you know.” Tristan hadn’t realized until then that Arthur said that a great deal. You know. “That’s why he’s dead and not hurt. My officer was only aiming for his shoulder, and when he was going down from that big old pumpkin, you know, he hit him in the head. Dead as a rock. Nothing anyone could do about it after it was done, but you know. I wanted to come out and tell you first thing. Before it got around town, you know.”

  “Yes, I understand.” Arthur nodded and looked out at the car. “I’ll tell them. But what will happen to them now? Without a court hearing, we can petition for them to live with us.”

  “We were kinda hoping that you’d just keep them, you know. They sure are better off with you two than any system that we’d have to put them in. I’m sure that one of your brothers, you know, could fancy up some paperwork that said that they belonged to you all along. Ain’t a person in town that won’t vouch for you, you know.” He said that he’d like that, but it would be up to the children. “Lord Tristan, you know as well as I do that them kids ain’t had anything in their bellies that didn’t come from a dumpster or was stolen in a long time. If ever, you know? You go on and take them, and we’ll settle it when or if anyone comes around. But the missus, she didn’t have a soul left after her mamma died, and that mister—well, all his people are in prison or dead too. You just leave it to me, and you get one of your brothers to fix it up. It’ll be right as rain, you know?”

  “Yes, I do. I can’t thank you enough for coming out here today and telling us about it. You just let us know about the funeral costs, and we’ll take care of them for the city.” Arthur thanked him and moved out the door. Tristan looked at Wynter as the officer waved again at the kids before driving off. “I guess we’re parents. What do you think about that, Mom?”

  “I’m not entirely sure that anyone, especially the kids, are going to put up much fuss about it. You know?” They both laughed as they made their way out to the car again. They’d not discussed when they were going to tell them about it, but Wynter turned to look at them both before he put the car in gear. “I’m afraid that there has been an accident. Your father tried to escape from the custody of the—”

  “He’s coming here?’ Susie sounded so terrified that he got out of the car and took her into his arms. “I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me. Please. I’ll be the best girl in the world, I promise.”

  “He’s dead, honey. Your father was killed when he tried to escape from them.” Susie lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “He’s really gone. He’s not going to come for you again. Just as I promised you, Bruce White is dead.”

  Tristan held her as she lay on his shoulder. She didn’t cry anymore, but he did hear Wynter telling Stephan the same thing, both of them leaving out the part about the crowd and the pumpkin that was the reason that their father was dead. Then she asked Stephan if he wanted to go inside, not go shopping today.

  “If it’s all right with you, I think we’d like to go. I don’t know what will happen to us now, and I’d like to have some fun for a change.” Susie got back into the car when he put her down, and Stephan took her hand. Tristan waited. “You both have been really nice to us. And you don’t even have to buy us anything, but it would be fun to just go out for a little while. Just for today.”

  “What if I told you that the officer said that he was taking care that you two would be our son and daughter?” Susie looked so excited before looking at her brother. Stephan was more cautious. He wanted to be excited too, Tristan could almost feel it, but he had also been hurt before. “We want you to become our kids. Both of you, for all time. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already contacted my brother to make that happen. But if you’ve changed your minds, then—”

  “Be my mom and daddy.” He grinned at Susie, and she looked at Stephan. “Please, Steve. I don’t want to live on the streets again. It’s cold. And don’t you think that it’s really nice to have a bed and warm clothes? Plus food? I’ve never been so full. Please tell them you want that too.”

  “I do, Susie, but what if they change their mind?” Before Tristan could say it, Susie said that they’d never do that. They loved them. “Are you sure about this? You want to become a Manning?”

  “I’m as sure as much as I love you.” That seemed to settle it with Stephan. “Yay. I’m so happy right now. I’m going to be the bestest little girl you could ever want. I promise you that.”

  “We only want you to be safe and happy. As Wynter said, we’ll have rules that we’ll expect you to follow, but mostly we want you to be here with us.” Wynter nodded, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “Also, you might be happy to learn that you already have a grandma in Wynter’s mom, who I bet will spoil you as much as she can. Also Foster, who has become grandda to all of you as well. Then you have five uncles and four aunts already as family.”

  “They’ll love us too, won’t they, Dad?” Tristan felt his heart twist up. Susie had called him Dad. “I’ve met some of them. They sure are big, huh?”

  “Yes, honey, they surely are.”

  Kissing her on the forehead, he could barely join in the conversation, he was so smothered by emotions. He got into the car and sat there for several seconds before starting the engine. After a while he was better, and reached for Wynter’s hand. He was already a man who loved his family. This just made it all the stronger.

  On the way to the mall he spoke to his family, asking first if one of them could make up something that would pass inspection for the children to be Mannings. Every one of them volunteered. Then he told them what had happened to White. Not a one of them was sorry about it, but did wonder about the kids.

  They’re fine with it. In fact, we’re taking them into Columbus to do some shopping and celebrate. You all should join us. They agreed that they would. Someone will need to pick up Foster and Carla too. They’re going to be grandparents.

  It might be a little overwhelming, but he knew that the two of them would hold up well. They were, after all, Mannings.

  ~*~

  Grace stepped back from the painting. It was getting harder and harder to keep secret what she was doing for the mantel in the main house. Cooper had started calling his home that about a week ago, and she thought it was perfect.

  The painting of the family had started out with her just painting the men and the mates. But that was messed up when children started to be added to the group. But now, she’d gone back to the original one and was putting the finishing touches on Wynter while they waited on whoever Xavier was mated to. She was as excited at meeting her as she was having this painting put over the mantel.

  “Mistress?” Grace looked over at Benson, her faerie who was cleaning brushes for her. “I was wondering something. Have you ever painted little bitty pictures? Like something that a man like me could hang in his house.”

  “What did you have in mind, Benson?” He looked so embarrassed, but pulled out a picture of his beloved wife. When they were taking a break, he would talk about her with so much love in his heart that she ached for him. “Who took this of the two of you?”

  “Lord Cooper. We were out and about and me and the missus, she said that we should get our picture taken with the contraption he was holding. I don’t have any other likeness of her.” Grace looked at her and thought her to be the loveliest woman she’d ever seen. “She died. A tree fell atop her and it was too late by the time we figured it out. It happens. Wasn’t anyone’s fault, but she died and I miss her all the time. That there is a picture of her, too big for me to open up at home. So I was wondering if you could make me a little painting of her.”

  “Yes, I think that I can do that. I was thinking that I’d make it large then shrink it down for your mantel. What do
you think of that?” He seemed to like that idea, and Grace told him that she’d get on it right away. “Good. I think this will be fun. Thank you for asking me to do this for you, Benson. Also for thinking that I’d do a good job for you.”

  “You’re the best there is, mistress. I’ll be glad to get it for me.”

  She pulled the canvas to her and began drawing in the beautiful face. Asking Benson questions that weren’t showing up in the photo helped her get it just right. Grace was excited to get started.

  By the time night was falling around the place, Grace had done as much as she could for the day. Leaving the building that had all her work in it, she paused just as she came out into the cold. A shiver ran over her body. Something out there had her looking around to see what it was. Closing her eyes, she wondered if Muse could feel it. See if it was someone or something that needed a story painted for it.

  The touch was light when she and Muse found it. Grace could see what she’d been through and what she wanted her to paint. Turning around, knowing that she’d get no rest until she at least got it to paper; she moved to her desk and pulled out a pad of drawing paper. But before she could begin, she felt fear.

  It was something that she’d felt before while painting and Muse had contacted someone that needed her help. While she didn’t have any idea how that worked, she was glad for it, the way she got the ideas to paint the pictures of someone that wanted her story to be told, but this was different. She asked Benson what he could feel.

  “Anger? Fear?” He cocked his head to the side as he seemed to be listening for more. “There do be two of them, mistress. Want me to go and find them?”

  Grace did, but she didn’t too. Getting him hurt would break her heart. She loved the little man as much as she had anyone in her life. When he simply disappeared, she sat there biting the end of her pencil as she waited for him to return.

  By the time he returned, she’d finished the sketch of the woman and child, and was moving on to the next one. Benson looked exhausted when he sat down on a chair he’d brought from his home, and she gave him a sugar cube. It was hard to wait for him to rest, but she gave it her all.

  “There is a woman in the fields out there. I couldn’t help her. She doesn’t believe in me.” She knew that too. That was why children could see faeries, but adults couldn’t. Babies could see them too. “I didn’t see anyone else around, but she was watching for something. I did a search, but there wasn’t anything close to either of us.”

  “Is she hurt?” Benson said he couldn’t tell, that she was dressed warmly and had on high boots. “I have a drawing. I want you to tell me if it’s her or not. If it’s not, then something else is going on.”

  When she showed him the picture, he didn’t hesitate a moment before telling her that it was her. Then he took a better look at the drawings. They were showing a horrific scene. It showed the death of the woman in question.

  “You’ve never seen in the future before, have you, mistress?”

  “I don’t know if this is the future or not. Something tells me that this might look like her, but it’s not her. I think that’s why she’s dead in this one.”

  “Why would you think that?” She told him what the next drawing was going to be. “A woman that looks like she’s running in spring water? I don’t know that there are any springs around here this time of year.”

  “It’s not this time of year. It was the spring before last. This killer, or whatever it is, they’re killing women that look like her. Perhaps—I don’t know, until he gets the right one.” She thought of the next two paintings and told him about them. “I think it’s just like I said, this person or persons is killing off red headed women with fair complexions until he gets the right one.”

  “You think the one out there is the one he’s looking for?” She shrugged, but thought that Benson was right. “You’re going to go and get her, aren’t you? You know that Lincoln will have a kitten if you go out there alone.”

  “I know. But I’m not going to be. I’ll talk to Hank, the wolf leader, and see if he has anyone out and about that can be with me. Then if anything goes wrong, I can have protection with him and his flock.” Benson corrected her. “All right, his pack then.”

  “You’ll be taking me too.”

  She didn’t even argue. Grace knew that Benson could call on help too if he needed, and she was a great deal less stressed than she might be just knowing she wouldn’t be getting into hot water with Lincoln.

  Hank met them at her door and Benson told them where the young lady was. As they followed her footprints in the heavy snow, they could all see that she had someone with large boots following her. That worried them all.

  “Who is she; did you get anything from the painting?” Grace told them that in the ones that had come to her, the women were already dead. “So we’re hoping that we find her before she becomes the next painting in your work. I’m not making fun of you, Grace, but that is seriously fucked up, you know that.”

  “Tell me about it.” They came upon some drips of blood. “Oh no. We’re too late, aren’t we?”

  The blood got heavier, the spots of it larger the longer they followed it. Soon it was just a stream of it, leading to a cave. With her heart pounding, she started for the opening. Grace needed to know what was going on.

  “Wait.” She turned and looked at Benson. “You don’t need to go in there. Let me call the lady of the earth. She’ll be able to tell us if the person is in there or not. This could be a trap.”

  Grace nodded and told him to ask. She looked into the mouth of the large cave, knowing that anything or anyone could be in there, from human to bear. Yes, she thought, this was a much better idea than going in foolheartedly.

  Chapter 11

  Triston was looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. More than likely because this was the first time that he’d felt he had a lot to be thankful for. Mostly he and his brothers would find someplace open to have dinner together, then end up at one of their homes to watch some games on the television. This year they were all having a big meal with their families. Then of course, there was football.

  “Mr. Tristan, what will happen to my mean dad?” He looked at Susie, who had stayed home today because her school had had heating troubles. Tidbit said that she’d been wandering around the house, and only returning to the kitchen when she had a question. “I was just thinking about him being gone, and I want to make sure that he is gone.”

  “Right now, he’s in the local morgue. He’ll still be tried for his crimes. They set that up for the week after Thanksgiving. Whatever his sentencing is, it will go a long way toward closure for people.” Susie told him that she didn’t want him to see him. “You won’t, honey. Hudson, you’ve met him, he’s working really hard on getting things set up. Then after the funeral, you don’t ever have to see him again. I promise you this.”

  When she asked to sit up on his lap, he pulled her to him and they looked at the news reports on the computer. This way he could pick and choose what he wanted to see as opposed to having to weed through what was on the television. She had him stop on an article that talked about the school being closed today.

  “I love going to school. Did you?” Tristan had actually hated school; he had been more concerned with learning to fit in, but he told her that he had enjoyed it. “Ms. Wynter told us that we were to make a list for Santa on the things that we wanted for Christmas. I don’t even know who that is.”

  That broke his heart. Explaining to her who the big jolly man was, he looked up pictures of him on the Internet. Tristan told her of the traditions that his family were going to work on, as well as putting up beautifully decorated trees. After showing her pictures of those, she was so excited for the holiday that he asked her about Thanksgiving.

  “My old dad said that it was a holiday for saps to leave their home. He tried to get Steve to go to the houses that were empty and break in. Old Dad said that he couldn’t because he had a record. I looked and looked, but h
e didn’t have any in the car we lived in.”

  Tristan decided that he didn’t want to explain that to her, so he skipped over it for now.

  “Did Steve go into the houses?” She said that he didn’t like doing that, and that old dad had given him a mean beating for it. “I’m sorry that the two of you had to live like that. I’m glad that you’re with us now.”

  Stephan joined them a little while later. Susie was telling him what she wanted to eat when the dinner was set for Thanksgiving. It bothered Tristan so much that neither of the children had had a good holiday season. Also that their father had beaten them for trying to do the right thing. He wondered what sort of person their mother was.

  “I wanted to talk to you. It’s not important if you’re working.” Stephan looked at Susie, who said she wanted a cookie and left them there. “She didn’t have to go. I just wanted to ask you if I could go to the library to look up some research on the computer there.”

  “Don’t you have one in your room?” His face turned a bright red. “What’s wrong with it? If anything about it is broken, we can take it back to the store.”

  “I don’t know how to set it up. I know that I can come up with a password and the other things that it asked me. I have set up an email address too, but I don’t have any idea how that is to work. I don’t want to mess up the computer when I know that it costs so much.” Tristan told him that he could use his anytime that he wished. “Thank you, Mr.—Do you think I could just call you Dad? I mean, I already asked Mom—Wynter—if I could, and—well, she burst into tears so badly that I was afraid that you would too. I know that Susie called you that before, but we’ve been calling you mister and missus since then.”

 

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