Hungry!

The wordless command battered its way into Lance’s sleeping mind, ripping through his mental defenses like tissue paper. He blinked, immediately awake.

Hungry hungry hungry!

In his arms, Keeley stirred and murmured something under her breath. Her eyebrows drew together. “Wazzat?”

“It’s—” Lance shook his head. Keeley was human; she wouldn’t be able to hear the hatchling’s plaintive psychic cries. His snow leopard, on the other hand, was pressing against his skin in its urgency to follow the wail of hunger. “It’s nothing.”

“Hnergh,” Keeley replied, and sat up. “M’m go—”

Her eyes were still shut. Lance kissed her forehead, smoothing away the crease between her eyebrows. “Go back to sleep. I’ll look after it.”

He pulled on a pair of navy sweatpants and turned just in time to see Keeley staggering toward the steps that led down to the mezzanine lounge. He grabbed her before she could fall head-first down the staircase.

“What are you—” he began, then looked harder at her. “Are you still asleep?”

Keeley’s eyes were still shut, but her intention was clear. She was following the same psychic wail that was pulling him downstairs.

Maggie’s psychic powers are better developed for her age than should be possible. Lance frowned as he led Keeley down to the apartment’s floor level. Or this is a dragon thing.

Dragons. He rubbed his temples. Everything that had happened the last few years seemed to lead back to dragons.

Maggie’s psychic cries were so loud, he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He hurried to the guest room, but the nest-bed Keeley had put together for the baby dragon was empty.

Hungryyyyyy!

Keeley had slipped out of his arms. Lance wheeled around, following her to—the kitchen?

I’m an idiot, he thought, smacking himself on the forehead.

Hungry hungry hungry HUNGRY!

Lance followed Keeley into the kitchen and found a scene of utter chaos. Everything that had been on any flat surface had been flung to the floor. The culprit was clear. In the middle of the floor, in a pile of smashed crockery and fruit, Maggie was wrestling with the fruit bowl.

Has she grown since last night? Lance thought. Or does she just look bigger surrounded by chaos?

Maggie looked up at him and Keeley. She had an apple clutched in her front paws, which she nibbled experimentally and then tossed away with a hiss. The apple rolled to join a pile of nibbled, chewed, and gnawed-on fruit and cutlery under the table.

Hungry! she demanded, and then the ridges on the top of her head stood up as she caught sight of another piece of fruit. The dragonling’s whole being, physical and psychic, radiated wonder and excitement as she leapt for the wondrous yellow foodstuff.

The look on her face as she bit into the lemon could only be described as utter betrayal.

Lance laughed, and Maggie turned the look of betrayal on him. Confusion and sadness broadcast from her mind. How could the fruit be so nasty? It was the same color as she was!

He blinked. The dragonling hadn’t used words, but he knew exactly what it was trying to tell him. He rubbed his forehead. Maggie’s psychic abilities, while still juvenile, were already so much more refined and powerful than they had been the day before. The battering-ram of hunger in his head was evidence of that.

She’s going to be more of a handful than I thought. Lance pinched the bridge of his nose as his snow leopard perked up, delighted.

What a smart kitten we have!

She’s a dragon, not a kitten, Lance reminded it. His snow leopard flicked its tail derisively. It knew what it was talking about, even if Lance insisted on being a dull, slow-witted human.

Now, feed the kitten so it falls asleep again, and then take our mate back to bed, his snow leopard went on. Another psychic wail slammed into Lance’s mind, and his snow leopard flinched. Feed the kitten QUICKLY, it added.

Lance hurried across to the fridge. He got there just as Keeley, still apparently sleep-walking, pulled the door open and almost slammed it straight into her own forehead.

“O-kay,” Lance said, grabbing the fridge door and whisking Keeley out of the way. “That’s enough of that, Maggie.”

The little dragonling chittered at him, and a feeling that was the psychic equivalent of Who, me? floated into his mind. Lance frowned. *Leave her alone.*

Maggie whipped her tail. Hungryyyyy!

Lance sighed. She’s only, what, twenty-four hours old? A baby. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. He looked at Keeley, who was shaking her head and blinking.

“Sorry about this,” he muttered. “Another thing I should have seen coming.”

“Wha...?” Keeley blinked hard. “Hang on, how the fuck did I get down here?” Her eyes fell on Maggie, peeping piteously in the ruins of the fruit bowl. “I mean... fudge...”

She frowned, raising one hand to her forehead. “Wait. Am I hungry, or is she—? Shit, I feel strange. I mean. Sugar. Fu...hngh.”

Lance laughed and kissed her on the forehead.

“Maggie’s throwing her weight around. Sit down, I’ll make you both breakfast.”

Groaning, Keeley flopped into a chair, resting her head in her folded arms on the kitchen table. “God, I feel like I—wait.” She straightened up and looked down at herself. “Am I completely naked?”

Naked enough that my snow leopard won’t shut up about getting you back into bed, Lance thought. Out loud, he tried to reassure her. “Shifters are a little less prudish about that sort of thing than humans.”

“Well, last time I checked, I was still human.” Keeley stood up. “Back in a minute.”

She rubbed her chest as she walked past him, murmuring, “I feel so strange...”

Lance paused in the middle of rifling through his fridge.

Last night had been—he shook his head. Not a mistake, but not how he would have planned things.

But he felt something, too. Something strange, something that hummed like a plucked string in his heart, audible even through Maggie’s hungry complaints.

He reached inside himself, barely daring to think what he would find there.

“Hey-y-y, nope!” Keeley yelped, coming back into the kitchen and diving at Maggie. The dragonling had been about to leap into the fridge. Keeley wrinkled her nose. “I think that’s her telling you to hurry up,” she said as Maggie wound herself around her neck.

Keeley had changed into a long-sleeved shirt that Lance recognized. Part of him was disappointed that she’d dressed at all, but he couldn’t help but be pleased that she was wearing his clothes. The shirt was tight on him but fit her like a tunic, draping down over her thighs.

And he was sure it had been in his dresser, not the one in the guest room. A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

“How do you feel about pancakes?” Lance grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge. “I—hey!”

Using his arm as a bridge, Maggie scampered off Keeley’s shoulders and into the fridge. Containers and vegetables went flying. Maggie found what she was looking for at the very back of the fridge and turned around with the package grasped in her front claws, her eyes imploring.

“I think that’s a no to pancakes,” Keeley said, laughing. “Smoked salmon?”

“Bagels. I can do bagels.” Lance beckoned to the baby dragon. “If she doesn’t break into the package before—what’s she doing now?”

Maggie let him take the smoked salmon. Her eyes were narrowed with concentration as she sniffed the air. She leapt—Lance winced as she used his bare chest as a springboard—and crashed into the inside of the fridge door.

“Oh, baby, no,” Keeley laughed. “You’re a bit young for that! Here, I’ll—oops, no.”

Glass rattled against glass as Maggie scrambled to get her footing. She was winding herself protectively around—Lance’s heart sank—around the beer bottles he kept in the fridge door.

The beer bottles Mathis and Chloe had given him to celebrate putting Harper away. The ones with the gold-colored trim on the labels.

He sighed. “That’s not real gold, Maggie.”

From the way she hissed when he tried to pick her up again, either she didn’t agree, or she didn’t care.

He grabbed the package of smoked salmon, throwing it from hand to hand, and cocked one eyebrow at Keeley. “Let’s see if breakfast can tear her away from her treasures.”

Five minutes later, the air was rich with the scent of hot coffee and toasted bagels, and Maggie hadn’t moved from her spot guarding the beer bottles. Every time the fridge beeped for someone to close the door, she growled as if she was worried it was going to steal her prize.

Lance plated the smoked salmon and managed to dodge Maggie’s whipping tail (and sharp claws) to pull cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

He sat down opposite Keeley and slid a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. “Milk?”

“Just sugar, thanks.”

“Jam or salmon on your bagel?”

“Mmm, salmon, please.” Her eyes gleamed as she glanced over to where Maggie was still sitting in the fridge door, jealously guarding her beer bottles. “Ooh, yum.” She took a bite from the bagel. “Mmm. So deliciously salmon-y.”

Lance knew she was teasing the hatchling, but he still had to bite back a groan as Keeley played up her enjoyment of the breakfast he’d made for her. His snow leopard purred as she closed her eyes.

“God. You know what. I don’t think that was all Maggie mind-walloping me with her hunger pangs. I’m starving.” She opened her eyes again, mischief dancing in their stormy depths. Lance cleared his throat, glad he was sitting at the table, as he went hard as a rock.

Keeley leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m not imagining it. She can definitely tell what we’re saying, right?” she whispered.

“I expect so.” Lance cleared his throat again. Damn it.

Keeley leaned back again and sighed extravagantly. “In fact, I’m so-o-o-o starving, I think I’m going to eat all of this salmon by myself...”

“Preep!”

Maggie stretched her neck out as far as it could go, her cat-like eyes fixed on the platter of salmon. “Preep!” she repeated, as though ordering the salmon to come to her.

Lance chuckled and speared a piece for himself. His snow leopard was silently urging the baby dragon on. Be the hunter! Strike down your prey!

Maggie looked from the salmon to her row of beer bottles and back. She hissed disgruntledly. Then, to Lance’s amusement, she grabbed a beer bottle, wrestled it out of the shelf, and flapped to the ground with it clutched in her front claws.

“Fleh!” she announced. “Prr-eep!”

Lance turned a burst of laughter into a cough as the tiny dragonling wrestled the bottle over to the kitchen table, then ran back and transported the others over in the same way. When she’d moved all six bottles over, she carefully arranged them on their sides and sat on them, muttering grumpily.

Lance’s heart ached as Keeley, serious-faced, held out a sliver of salmon to the tiny dragon. Maggie stretched out her neck as far as it would go, chittering possessively as Keeley’s hand got closer to her hoarded beer bottles.

“Oh, come on, baby,” Keeley exclaimed. “I’m trying to feed you—there you go.” Maggie snatched the salmon from her fingers and retreated to her pile, chewing madly. Keeley raised one eyebrow at Lance. “What is she doing?”

“Building her hoard, I think.” Lance picked up another piece of salmon and held it out to Maggie. “I don’t know much about it, but my understanding is that dragons thrive according to the size of their hoard.”

“Which is made of gold, or… things that look like gold?” Keeley winced. “I guess this means I’m not getting my Gran’s necklace back.”

Lance followed her gaze to the thin gold chain wrapped around Maggie’s neck and forelegs. He hadn’t noticed it before. It wasn’t just that the gold blended in with the tiny dragon’s scales, it was that it seemed like it belonged there.

Just like Keeley belonged with him and—at least, so his snow leopard kept telling him—the tiny dragon belonged with them both.

With Julian, he reminded his snow leopard solemnly. The dragonling belongs with her family. And God knows Julian deserves to see his niece grow up alive and happy after everything he’s been through.

“How did you find her?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. Panic flashed across Keeley’s face, and he added, “If you feel up to telling the whole story. It can wait.”

Keeley ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Her expression darkened, and Lance regretted ever bringing it up, but before he could say anything she shook her head.

“Might as well get it over with, right?” She sighed and placed her hands on the table. Her stance was determined, but her eyes were still uneasy.

It was all Lance could do not to take her in his arms and pull her against his chest, offering her comfort in the most primal way. He clenched his fists behind his back. “I’ll need to take your statement back at our HQ, but if it would help for you to talk about it now…”

“HQ?” Keeley looked wary.

Right. I never actually explained about… anything, did I?

“I work as a private investigator for shifters. We help shifters who can’t go to the human police or other services for help. Mostly small stuff—thefts that they can’t report because no one’s going to believe a parakeet broke into a safe, big predator shifters using their animals to intimidate people into paying protection money, that sort of thing. But recently we’ve uncovered a dangerous ring of shifter criminals who’ve been involved in everything from kidnapping to murder.”

He paused. Keeley had gone pale, and he reached out to take her hand. “That’s why I was at the station when the explosion went off. Maggie’s uncle was involved in one of our recent investigations. We were in the middle of transferring her egg from foster care back to HQ, before reuniting her with her uncle when she was taken. The station was our one lead.” He rubbed his face. If that lead hadn’t paid off—if we’d been there even a minute later…

He pushed the thought away. Keeley was still white.

“So you’re a sort of shifter police?” she asked uncertainly.

“Nothing so formalized. We have connections with shifters in the force and the legal system, but we work independently.”

“Oh.” Keeley squeezed his hand tight. “I guess that makes sense. It’s not like there are any laws about dragon-smuggling. So… you do lock people up, if you catch them? They go to jail?”

She bit her lip, and Lance tried his damnedest to not think about how much that made him want to bite her lip, too. Down, boy, he ordered himself.

“We wouldn’t be doing a good job of keeping innocents safe if we let the criminals go free, would we?” he reassured her.

“I…” Keeley hesitated, her eyes darting across his face. Then she took a deep breath. When she continued, she spoke slowly, as though she was testing the words. “Okay. My statement, huh? Well, I, I work as a maid. In a hotel. It’s good work,” she added quickly, “it’s a really good job, and my manager is a lovely person.”

She made a face. Lance grinned back at her. So the job’s a dump and her manager’s a prick, he thought.

Keeley took a deep breath and kept going, her voice more confident. “So I got off my shift, and headed home on the subway. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t like being the only person in a car, you know? But when I looked up, there was no one else there, except…” Keeley ran her fingertips across the fine ridges on Maggie’s spine. “I don’t know where she came from. I looked up, and there she was, looking back, and she just jumped on my lap.

“I thought she was someone’s escaped pet lizard at first, but then I saw the wings, and then—then there was the explosion…” She covered her face, and Lance tensed, ready to leap to her side. With a sigh, she lowered her hands and rested her chin on her fists, staring at Maggie. “And—well, I guess you can fill in the bit after that, and I’ve already told you about the teleporting, and now… here we are.”

“Here we are,” Lance echoed. His heart was pounding, and his fingers itched to get hold of his tablet and start on his report, as though typing out the story would make it less terrifying. “We came so close to losing her. But instead she’s fine, thanks to you.

“Better than fine,” he continued. “She’s already growing—doesn’t she seem bigger than she was last night?” He pushed another piece of salmon towards Maggie. “She won’t be this helpless forever. Her uncle’s the size of a Greyhound bus and twice as frightening. The first time I met him, he was tearing chunks off a building. And she has the beginnings of a hoard, which I understand is very important. Her uncle will be happy to see her.”

Have I ever seen Julian wearing gold? Lance frowned, sifting through his memories. The dragon shifter’s style was spare, ascetic—and he had been a captive for so long. He owned little more than the clothes on his back. If he does have a hoard somewhere, none of us know about it.

And whatever it is, it’s probably more classy than a pile of beer bottles. He frowned and cleared his throat. “Perhaps we will be able to convince her to swap out the beer bottles for something more appropriate before we return her into her uncle’s care.”

“That’s the same uncle who tore chunks off a building?”

Lance flashed Keeley a smile, only noticing too late that it hadn’t been a light-hearted question. Keeley was twisting her fingers together, and her mouth was pinched and thin.

“Lance…” Her voice crackled with uncertainty. Lance’s snow leopard was instantly alert.

“Yes?” He reached out, capturing her twisting fingers under his.

Keeley bit her lip. “I just—I keep thinking, okay, I’m handling it, this is fine. And then there’ll be something new, and I’m back to freaking out again.” She stared at him, her stormy eyes troubled. “I don’t belong in this world, do I?”

Lance tightened his grip on her hand. “Of course you do.”

Keeley snorted and raised one eyebrow, but her eyes were still unhappy. “Really? Based on what? Getting shot at?” She took a deep breath. “I—I’ve been thinking. I should leave, right? Like, right away. I mean, it’s not like I stand any chance against a bunch of guys who can turn into God knows what. If anything else happens, I’m just a liability.”

Lance caught the word No! before it escaped.

Not freaking her out, he reminded himself. “I think Maggie would disagree,” he said out loud. He reached partway across the table and rested his hand there, an invitation for her to take it. “You saved her life. And she’s not Greyhound-sized yet. She still needs you.” I still need you, he added silently.

Keeley searched his eyes. “I… but she has you to look after her,” she said weakly. “I’d just be… in the way.”

Her eyes flicked down to his hand, and a conflicted look passed over her face. For a moment, he thought she would take his hand. Instead she placed both of hers on the edge of the table and pushed herself upright. “And the sooner I leave the better, right? I—”

She stopped and looked down. Maggie had crawled away from her hoard. Entirely away. She hadn’t even kept her tail wrapped around it.

Instead she had both front claws clamped onto Keeley’s hand and was staring up at her with her big, golden eyes.

“Prrp?” she cheeped softly.

Keeley gasped. Relief unfurled inside Lance.

“I think Maggie disagrees with your plan,” he remarked, and lightning sizzled across his skin as Keeley’s eyes jumped to his. “Stay. Look after her. She’s only a baby, and you’re fifty percent of all the people she’s ever known. Stay and look after her, and I promise I’ll protect you.”

Forever. With my life.

Keeley’s eyes turned pleading. Lance raised his hand, and this time she took it, so she was standing with one hand in his, one held down by the dragonling. Keeley’s lips parted.

She groaned and closed her eyes. “Lance, I—last night.” She swallowed, her mouth working as though she was trying to find the right words. “I can’t— It was—I don’t do that sort of thing. I don’t know if it’s just because I was scared, or…”

Lance’s heart sank. He’d hoped that their shared passion the night before had been a sign that she had, somehow, understood the connection between them. And this morning, her automatic response to Maggie’s cries of hunger; he’d filed that under the same category, of her slipping easily into the world of shifters.

Now it was clear that had been wishful thinking. He’d let his own selfish desires blind him to the facts: that she was terrified, and lost, and overwhelmed.

He loosened his fingers so he was holding her hand gently, not gripping it, and stared deep into her eyes. The golden mate bond connecting his heart to hers glowed, and warmth rose up inside him, but he couldn’t see any response in her gaze.

He could feel the connection, but she couldn’t.

“There’s a lot about the shifter world that even I’ve forgotten is strange to those who don’t know us,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sorry for throwing you in the deep end.”

The corner of her mouth jerked down. “You’re not the one who threw me in the deep end,” she muttered, glancing at Maggie. “More like you’re the one keeping me afloat. But…”

The hope that had flared in Lance’s heart died down at that last word. But.

“But you’re still in over your head,” he said, the words falling like rocks from his lips.

Keeley’s fingers twitched under his. Her eyes were stuck to the table. “Yeah.”

“Let me help.” Lance kept an iron grip on his snow leopard as Keeley’s eyes met his. “I want you to stay, but I don’t want you to feel trapped here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re floundering without the knowledge you need to feel safe. We’ll take it in small steps, I promise.”

“Small steps.” Keeley nodded. “I think I can handle small steps.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll stick around. For now. For Maggie. Just until she’s back with her family.”

She smiled, and Lance smiled back, longing crashing through his veins. He swallowed hard.

He’d apologized for throwing her in the deep end, but there was another metaphor he could have used. Everything she thought she knew about the world was turning upside down. The ground was crumbling under her feet, just like it was under his.

Small steps. Small steps until they were both back on solid ground. And then, once they were both safe, he would tell her the whole truth about what she meant to him.