Her Intended Dragon
A cold Saturday night with nothing better to do, Bogdan set out for the night club on Davies St. It was a long line of hot women and dorks with their backs to the thrill. Traffic grumbled by, rumbling over the noise of the waiting chatter.
Bogdan Kelly didn’t wait. He passed the line and stopped long enough for the dude checking ID to notice him. He flashed his eyes at the bouncer, the lumberjack in a suit raised the corner of his mouth slight enough for a smirk. He tilted his head allowing Bogdan to pass. And that, Bogdan decided, is how you made an entrance.
No one gave him a second glance as he moseyed inside. So many people. All of them moving or talking while the music was pumping. Hot, sweaty bodies, grinding, shaking, spinning on the dance floor. Crowded into booths, around tables, and standing along the long curve of the glass and steel bar.
He soaked it all in. He loved the heat, the vibe.
Now this is how a druk spent a Saturday night.
He wove and dodged through the sea of bodies. His eyes roaming, mapping the interior in his photographic memory. His dragon eyes adjusted to the darkness, the strobe lights, and peered into the shadowed corners. He found a spot at a bar table near the dance floor.
A hand touched his shoulder as a saucy thing in red sequins pressed against him, bumped her breast into his arm and gave him an inviting look. He’d buy her a drink, but she smelled like she’d had one too many. He stiffened, averted his gaze, admired the exposed ductwork, the pipes, and the old brick walls.
Through the flashing of the lights, he blinked, let his dragon spy in the shadows and saw something far more interesting than the sultry blonde trying to grind against him.
He pulled away, dodged and pushed through the hot, slick, bodies on the dance floor. His eyes riveted to a certain young fury dressed to kill.
“You’re a long way from home.” Bogdan grabbed the younger druk by the shoulder and shoved him back away from the crowds.
Jacques, a young fury dragon-shifter, had been placed under the protection of their herd by the Giresun pendragon, Blake. Jacques, the son of the Dragon Society Keeper leader, Margaret Moldvan, turned out to be a disappointment to his mother. Enough so, she’d sent her hired druks to teach him a lesson when a job to extract Blake’s former mate’s egg had gone bad.
“I had to come.” Jacques shrugged beneath his black leather jacket.
“You need to go back to Rainsburg, dumbass, before I kick your ass.”
“Try me.” Jacques stood a few inches taller, leaner, but Bogdan had solid muscles and several decades on the younger dragon shifter.
Bogdan crossed his arms. “Go back now, dumbass.”
“Once I find Paisly, I’m out of here. Dumbass.”
Bogdan grabbed Jacques. Shoved him back further in the shadows against the wall. Got in the younger man’s face. “You’re on dangerous ground, Jac. You can see your girlfriend another time.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, but she’s a friend and she needs my help.” Jacques reached in his pocket, pulled out an envelope and Bogdan snatched it.
He pulled it out, scanned it in the dark. A calling, they referred to it. More like a private invitation for druks and men of wealth to purchase breeding contracts with recent of age dragon born females. Bogdan cursed under his breath. “Where did you get this?”
“I have my ways; maybe you could help me. They wouldn’t recognize you.”
“Forget it. I have my orders and you were told to stay put.”
“I’m not leaving without Paisley. All you have to do is go in there, buy her contract, and this is your ticket in.” Jacques tapped the invitation in Bogdan’s hand.
Bogdan considered it for a moment. Things had been pretty dull since he had been sent to Seattle. Whoever thought art was interesting never had to sit in a gallery all day. He’d think himself crazy later, but what the hell. “One condition. You leave before you get recognized. I’ll get the girl and bring her back to Greensburg.”
“No way!”
“You really want to help this girl, you’ll leave before you are recognized.”
“I’m not leaving without her.”
“You won’t be any help to her when they beat you to a pulp.”
Jacque’s eyes gleamed in the dark. He clenched his jaw and growled, “Fine, but I decide when I leave.”
“Have it your way.” Bogdan released him. “Now tell me what this chick looks like.”