4
His mate was looking at him in shock.
There was no doubt in Brad’s mind: this woman was the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. A woman who had almost frozen to death in the snow and had, as soon as she woke, mentally walked right through dragon illusion to find a door. She’d even managed to turn the lair stereo on and open a door that shouldn’t have responded to her touch.
And now, she was looking at his dragon form, her eyes wide, her face frozen.
This was going to take some explaining.
He wanted to kick himself. He could have secured the door more tightly. He could have warned her to not try to open the door. He could have—
You didn’t want to do any of that. Because you knew she was your mate. You wanted her to see us. Because you knew—
His father had told him once that mates weren’t afraid of dragons, that that was one of the ways you knew it was right.
Hell, he’d known it was right as soon as his eyes met Rachel’s. They had been pale blue, cornflower blue his mother would have called it, and he’d known. She had been pretty, curvy, and just his type when he picked her up out of the snow. But when their eyes met, when he’d seen the spirit and intelligence in her eyes, the mate sense had kicked in. Kicked in hard.
She was just who he’d been looking for, and just in time.
And now…here she was. Staring.
Okay. She’s not going to be afraid of dragons. Probably. Now what?
He couldn’t see any way out of it. He had to shift back.
At least his shifting would be covered by illusion. Casting an illusion was particularly effective this close to the hoard, because he could draw from the family magic they kept stored. His mother had said that it was hard to watch someone shift for the first time, especially if they weren’t prepared. So instead, Rachel would see a strange blurring before her eyes. Not ideal, but better than the whole truth so soon.
He let the illusion fade once he appeared fully human again. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she echoed. She sounded stunned, but not afraid. Her breathing had picked up, and he wondered what it was like to be with her in bed, to make her heart beat fast for a completely different reason.
“I’m a dragon shifter.” It felt redundant, but he also wanted to start simple. “Seems like a good time to tell you. Since, you know. You just saw me as a dragon.”
She nodded, slowly. “I just saw you as a dragon,” she said. “And…you’re a dragon. And a human.”
“I am,” he said. “The good news is I found your snowshoes and boots, and we can get them heating up now.” He just wished he’d found any evidence of where the dragon who had hurt her came from or where it had gone. Rationally, he knew that he needed to be calm, that this would have to be put in Doug’s hands for the Council to manage. But in his heart…they’d hurt his mate. That was unacceptable.
Wrong.
Whoever it was, they’d see justice. He’d chase them to the ends of the earth if he had to.
“A dragon,” she repeated. But she didn’t sound scared. Just…confused. Maybe there was even a little wonder in her voice. “Um, I should let you in. I guess that explains why these doors aren’t any trouble to you. Because…they’re really heavy doors.”
“It does,” he confessed, as she stepped back. She really was beautiful. Her blue sweater brought out the color of her eyes, and her jeans were filled out by her soft, sensual curves. He longed to touch her, pull her closer. “Come back in out of the cold,” he said, “and we’ll talk more. Did you eat?” Bad enough he’d left her alone, if she was hungry, too.
“I was just about to have my second tin of sardines,” she said.
“Oh, yeah. Dragons like strong flavors. My uncle’s responsible for keeping the pantry stocked, so I knew there’d be something in there, start new sentence he’s always prepared for the worst. Are you warmer now?”
She nodded. She still looked stunned. He wished he could put a hand at least on her shoulder, but she’d just seen him talons, scales and all. Maybe not the best time to start touching her, no matter how much he wanted to.
“I—I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions. But let’s get you back into the warmth first.”
She smiled back, which made his heart warm. Well. Not just his heart.
He kept his focus on his heart. “ I—I wasn’t planning on startling you. I was just getting ready to shift back. I’d been trying to find more signs of the person who did this to you. Well…the shifter who did this to you.”
“A shifter?”
He nodded, keeping the anger that flared in his chest tamped down. “There was a claw sheath in your snowsuit, from a dragon shifter like me.”
“Oh,” she said. Her face fell.
“That was the other reason I was out there. I wanted to find who did this to you. Dragon eyes are a lot sharper than human eyes, and I was hoping—” He sighed. “But we’ll find out who did this to you. Make them see justice.” Human justice or dragon justice, he didn’t much care which at the moment. “Let me get that snowsuit, and you can finish eating.”
“Okay. Is it storming yet?”
“Not yet,” he said. “But you can feel it coming in.”
“I’ll need to tell my team, if I can. They’ll be worried. Though I don’t know what I could tell them….” She looked back at the counter. “Another tin of sardines will help me think. Can you get cell service, wherever this is?”
Her arm was so close. He wanted to press his skin to hers, feel her warmth. “This is our family lair,” he said, forcing himself to focus on his words. “Kind of a dragon thing. There’s a place where you can get reception, as long as the storm hasn’t gotten in the way, and we have a radio for emergencies. Worst case scenario, we’ll call someone up, say we’re in the area. There’s enough hunting cabins out here that we can probably get away with being vague. Especially if we get in touch with a ranger or police station, say we just want to pass on a message that you’re safe.”
That seemed to reassure her. “Thank you. Again.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said, honestly. “We’re obligated to help people. It’s…kind of an honor thing. I can explain more, but right now you want your snowsuit.”
“Please,” she said.
He opened the door to the landing and got her snowsuit from its spot on the bench. He handed it back to her and took a second to concentrate on the illusion that had protected her from seeing the…more unique aspects of the house. It had been built to accommodate both human and dragon bodies, with wide spaces for wings and latches that could easily be opened by claws. The rounded ceilings with recessed lights were made to be easy on dragon eyes; the bulbs were covered with soft glass, etched with dragons and words of protection in the ancient language.
More distinctly unusual were the long, deep scratches in the wall by the kitchen. Brad had seen human families where the children measured themselves with pencil marks, just behind the door. Dragons did things a little differently. Brad could see his own claws, third from the top, when he’d finally reached become an adult. He could still reach up and put his claws back there, remembering how proud of himself he’d been when he’d turned eighteen. Though he’d still been a little jealous he hadn’t reached the claw marks his uncle had made on his eighteenth birthday.
Then Arthur had reached higher than any of them. So much for his “little” brother.
Most of the rooms were large, so young dragons could be in the lair in any form; once they got past eight feet or so in dragon form, usually by the time they were in their late twenties, it wasn’t feasible anywhere but at the bottom level of the lair. Brad could still manage to walk in the kitchen in dragon form for now, but Arthur wouldn’t be able to by twenty-five.
“I’m going to get rid of the illusion that covered…some of the dragon things here,” he said. “It’ll just slowly fade away. So when the walls change, you’re not losing your mind or anything. It’s just magic. I hope that’s not too weird, but I thought you’d want to see the place as it really is.”
“I would,” she said. She grinned. “That way I can find the doors, right?”
“Right,” he said, and smiled back at her. “Did you find your phone?”
“In my snowsuit pocket, right where I left it,” she said. “That’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“It’s wet. It’s turned off—I don’t know if the cold killed the battery or the wet got to it—but…do you have any rice?”
“I’m sure we do.” He turned his attention to the cabinets and found a Tupperware container that seemed right. He picked it up and shook it. Sounded like rice. “I’ll check my cell phone for signal, and we can always use the radio to let your people know you’re safe. We’ll get your phone in the rice, hopefully it’ll dry out.” When he opened the container, he was gratified to see he’d been right—it was filled with rice. He found a small container near the sink to pour the rice into, enough to cover the phone. She handed him the phone—they didn’t quite brush skin, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or frustrated by that—and he put it in and sealed it.
“Thanks,” she said.
She was so beautiful. All he wanted to do was stare into those blue eyes of hers for the rest of the night.
He was together, with his mate. He couldn’t believe this was really happening, that he was really that lucky.
He was staring. “Um, sorry,” he said. “Um—you okay? The sardines all right?”
Her face had reddened a little. “Oh, yeah, they’re fine,” she said. “Sorry about the smell.”
“Oh, the fish?” He shrugged. “We all like fish, it’s a dragon thing, I guess. And none of us have very good senses of smell. That’s definitely a dragon thing. That’s why we like strong flavors so much.”
“So…a little like birds?”
He smiled. Sometimes people compared dragons to lizards; Brad much preferred birds. Probably vain of him, but there it was. “Like birds,” he said. “Well, we can smell better than birds, they can’t smell at all. But…anyway, the sardines, they smell fine to me. Do you want me to cook something? You’ve only had, what, two tins of sardines.” He was a little hungry himself. “There’s probably…something. Rice, we already know. And Doug’s probably got enough in the freezer for us to eat for a month.”
“Don’t open the freezer door yet,” she said. “I’m not ready. I thought I was, but opening that door to the landing—” She shuddered. He wanted to draw her into his arms, tell her she was safe, and warm. To promise her that nothing like that would ever happen to her again.
“We should get the radio working, too,” he said. “I’ll go up and see if I can get a signal with my phone, and try the radio if that doesn’t work. You going to be okay if I take off again?”
She nodded. “But don’t take too long. It’s…it’s nicer with the music on, but it still feels kind of isolated here.” For a moment, she drew her arms around herself, and his longing to pull her close only got more urgent.
“I’ll take you around after I get the radio on,” he said. “It’s…kind of a weird place, but hopefully you’ll like it.”
“I like it so far,” she said. “It’s…I like it more now, that you’ve—changed things. It seems more like a place people—dragons? I’m not sure what to say.”
“‘We’re people,” he said. “We’re just dragons too.”
She took a moment to think about that, rubbing her arms with her hands. “Well, now it seems more like a place where people actually live. Before it was more like a prison. Not just because of the disappearing doors.” She pointed at the painting over the sink, of the legendary patriarch of their clan. “People don’t put big paintings of dragons in prisons.”
“Not that I’ve ever seen,” he said. “No.”
Something had shifted in her; she was clearly more comfortable as she pointed around the kitchen. “And those scratches on the walls—are those dragon claws? I always thought you guys got…bigger than that.”
“They are, and we do,” he said. “We mark the wall as we grow. It’s kind of…a ritual thing. Our dragon forms keep growing as we get older, but—eh, I guess it’s just like people who are full human. We don’t bother once we’re 18.”
“How many dragons are in your family? Um, can I ask that?”
“Of course,” he said. “Our clan is large, but there aren’t that many people in our branch. Just Uncle Doug, my parents, and my brothers and sisters. My grandfather…he’s been gone a long time. We’re not exactly estranged from the rest of the family, but we’ve lost some of our connections with the old country. So it’s just the eight of us.”
“‘Just’ the eight,” she said.
“My grandfather was the second eldest of eight, just in his family,” Brad said. “Clans run on the big side.”
“So how many brothers and sisters?”
“One older sister, the rest brothers. Twin brothers, they turned twenty-one in October, and my youngest brother—that’s the tallest set of scratches up there, Arthur—is seventeen, just in his last year of high school. A lot of lairs have generation after generation marking the walls, but this was new when Dad and Uncle Doug made it.”
“Made it?” Rachel asked. “What…carved the walls?” Her eyes were roaming over the room in fascination.
“It’s not quite what you’re thinking, I’d guess,” he said. “Mostly magic and heat, but there’s some stonecutting skill there too.” He wanted to stay, keep talking with her, touch her hand…well, he wanted to do a lot more than that, but talking would be a good start. But he’d told her he’d let people know she was safe, and that would keep people off the mountain for a little while, too. “I should go up. I think we’ve got the local frequencies up on the wall.”
“Great,” she said. “Thanks again. Just…don’t be too long, please.”
He retreated up the main stairwell, his mind full of questions. How could he begin to tell her all he needed to? Relax, the dragon insisted. You’ll have the rest of your lives together.
But he wanted her to feel nothing but happiness at that. No confusion, no fear. Not an easy task when they’d only met because someone had tried to kill her.
And there was the question of the other dragon, as well. Not for the first time, he wished that Doug and his father had figured out a better communication system if the lair was threatened and a storm affected cell phone signals. Brad was even more certain of it when he pulled out his phone and couldn’t get a single bar. He’d have to try to reach Doug on the radio, and hope he was paying attention.
As he’d remembered, there was a list of emergency frequencies on the wall in the tower. He started with Fire and Rescue and soon found a pleasant, if confused, dispatcher who promised to pass the message to Rachel’s colleagues that she was safe. “How’s the weather out there?” he asked. “I’m trying to decide if we should get ahead of the storm or wait it out.”
“Bad and worse by Watertown,” she said. “It’s moving fast. As long as you have shelter and clean water, I’d vote for waiting it out.”
“We’ve got everything we need,” he said, ignoring the dragon’s obvious delight, “so we’ll wait.” He thanked her, and then tried Doug’s frequency. No answer.
He’d have to try it again. He could bring Rachel up to the radio room too. She might like the view.
He sure hoped she would. It’d be no good to be a dragon with a mate who didn’t like heights.
Now he just had to decide what to cook for dinner, and hope that she wouldn’t mind staying the night in a proper dragon lair. So far, so good, right?
She’s going to love you. She’s your mate.
I sure hope you’re right.