8
She couldn’t quite believe what she was doing. “So I just…what?”
“Keep reaching out,” he said. He couldn’t resist; he reached out himself and put his hand on her back, just to be closer to her, to feel her warmth. “And it’ll come to you.”
“Okay,” she said. She sounded skeptical, but she stretched her hand out further. I’m learning to use a powerful anti-dragon weapon, she thought to herself. In the kitchen. This is crazy.
But if it can keep me safe…
The counter glowed more brightly, and by the time her hand was directly over the marble surface, she could see the blaster under the countertop, like it was covered in glass.
“Go ahead,” Brad said. “Take it.”
She reached through the glass. It was a strange sensation; there was definitely something there, something magical, but she passed through it easily. Like Jello, almost, only room temperature.
The blaster itself—that seemed like the only thing to call it—was cool to the touch. She picked it up carefully with her right hand, making sure she didn’t put a finger on the trigger. It was bronze and red, the right size for a human and disconcertingly shiny for something that could strip a dragon of his magic. “Very…Spaceman Spiff,” she said.
“The last time it was redesigned, we were kids,” he said, a little apologetically. He still had his hand on her back, just above her waist. It felt really good.
“So what do I do with it now? Just point and shoot?”
“Just point and shoot,” he said. “I mean, do it carefully. If you just press the trigger once, like shooting a gun, it gives a very small amount of anti-magic. It’s enough to make someone think twice, but it’s not damaging if you hit someone accidentally. If you need to really stop someone or work your way through an illusion, you have to pull the trigger multiple times, or just hold the trigger down.”
That made sense. “So if I aimed at the countertop and pulled the trigger—”
“You’d see the mechanism that protects the blaster, like it was completely exposed to you.” He paused. “But don’t, please. The magic that holds this place together is…basically constructed to do just that, and every bit of anti-magic weakens it. On a normal day, it’d be fine, but with—”
“Evil dragons burrowing into your mountain?”
He laughed, a little bitterly. “I hope not evil, but—yeah.”
“Bad dragons?”
“I guess that’s not much better.” He reached out and put his arm fully around her waist, pulling her gently closer. “Dragons that weren’t brought up right.”
“Dragons with poor social skills.”
His laugh at that was a lot happier. “Let’s eat, I think it’s rested long enough.”
“Definitely.” It smelled delicious. Brad’s uncle might have been fussy and lack social skills, but he either made good lasagna or knew how to get good lasagna. She couldn’t remember the last time something had smelled so good. She carefully put the blaster back.
“You sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”
“I don’t mind—”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’ve had a hard day. I don’t mind either.”
“All right,” she said, and went back to the table. It wasn’t gilded, just a nice solid wooden table with carved feet that looked like talons. Dragon feet, Rachel supposed. The silverware was shiny and felt heavy and expensive, though Rachel was pretty sure it was stainless steel, not real silver, and the napkins were some kind of heavy cloth. “Do you…always live like this?”
“I don’t eat on china and linen every night, no,” he said. “Actually, I’m not getting the china out tonight, I hope you’re not disappointed.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, grinning.
“I don’t think we have any wine, will water be all right? Or there’s beer, or soda—”
“Water’s good,” she said. “Not too cold, still, please.”
“We just have normal glasses, if it’s any consolation. I know this feels fancy. This is usually where we get together for family meetings, holidays—it’s for special occasions, so we have some of our more special things here. At home it’s usually paper napkins. When I have a napkin.”
“Where do you actually live?”
“Not far from here,” he said. “It’s important to stay within quick flying distance if you’re managing a lair.” He put a steaming plate of lasagna down in front of her, and a full glass of water. “It looks good, anyway.”
“It sure does,” she agreed.
He took his own plate and sat opposite her. “I have an apartment, it’s not much, but I don’t need much. If I want to relax, really have time to myself, I come out here, look out the windows. It’s kind of a retreat from everyday life. No one calls you out here unless it’s an emergency, so you really have all the time you want to do whatever it is you’ve got in mind.”
“What do you do, when you’re out here relaxing?” She hadn’t seen a TV or anything but the single sound system.
“I draw,” he said. “It’s just a hobby, but I love it. It helps me see things—aw, this sounds dumb.”
“No it doesn’t,” she said. “Tell me.”
“I can see things more clearly and carefully when I draw. It—gives me perspective.”
“That’s not dumb at all,” she said. She took a bite of the lasagna. It was cheesy and savory, and she could taste garlic and onions and spice. “Mmmm,” she said, surprised at how good it was.
“Good?”
She nodded.
He tried a forkful. “Oh, that is good,” he said. “At least Doug did one thing right.”
She felt a little bad that he was so angry at his uncle. “I’m sure he’s not that bad.”
Brad sighed. “He’s not, that’s the worst part. But he can really be clueless sometimes. And…this is one of those times. But the lasagna’s good. I wish we had something for dessert.”
She thought about suggesting herself for dessert. Would that be too forward? But he thought she was his mate—
“What are you thinking?” he said. “You’re starting to blush.”
“I wasn’t—I wasn’t really thinking of anything,” she lied.
“You sure?”
“I—” Her face felt like it was on fire, and the rest of her wasn’t exactly cold. She shifted in her seat. “Let’s—we need to eat.”
“We do need to eat,” he agreed. “I’m sure…I’m sure I can eat.”
“Yes.” Though it wasn’t easy. Brad spent a lot of the meal with his eyes focused on her, watching her mouth as she ate. Rationally, she knew she needed to eat—to keep her strength up, and to make sure she healed fully from her injuries—but what she really wanted to do was get up from the table and drop herself into Brad’s lap. If the lasagna hadn’t been so good, she might not have been able to eat anything at all.
“I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said. “But I’m not sorry you’re here.”
“I’m not either,” she said. She’d just been introduced to a whole new world—a world that was full of magic and dragons. And gold. Not without dangers, of course, but she didn’t feel like she was in danger when she was with Brad. She felt safe.
“I’ll protect you,” he said. “Whatever happens—I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not again.”
She believed him. Completely. “I know,” she said. “I—feel it.”
“That’s what it’s like,” he said. “When you know you belong together.”
“It’s hard to believe,” she said. “But I guess it’s no harder to believe than anything else that’s happened to me today.”
“Have you met other dragon shifters?”
“Not…that I knew were shifters,” she said. “I mean, it’s possible. But I’m pretty sure you’re my first. Unless you count whoever attacked me.”
“We’re not counting them,” he said, firmly.
She took another bite of her lasagna. Probably she wouldn’t have enjoyed it this much if it hadn’t been the first real food she ate after almost dying, and if she wasn’t in the company of such a handsome man, but that didn’t really matter. It tasted delicious, and being with Brad was like some kind of fairy-tale dream come true.
He was watching her eat, in a way that made her face—and the rest of her body—start heating up all over again. “Do you have any of your drawings here? I’d love to see your work.”
“I—there’s a few sketchbooks with my hoard,” he confessed. “I’m just an amateur.”
“That’s all right. I still—it’s part of you, right? So I’d like to see it.”
He smiled at that, and his smile was so warm and affectionate she wanted to put her fork down and—
Well, why not?
She put her fork down and stood up. She walked around the table and leaned down to Brad, who was already tilting his face up toward her, and kissed him.
He slid his chair back and swept her back into his arms, pulling her down into his lap. His kiss was strong and sure, and his arms felt so strong on her back. Dinner could wait.
“I was hoping you’d do that,” he whispered against her ear when they broke the kiss.
“I’m glad I did,” she confessed. She was sitting cross-wise on his lap, and she could feel his erection pushing against her jeans. He felt big.
“I am too,” he said. “Maybe—I guess the rest of dinner could wait a bit, huh? I could take you up to see my…drawings.”
“I’d like to see everything,” she said, knowing how true it was. She didn’t just want to make love to him—though that sure sounded great—she wanted to know him. Everything about him. She wanted to be part of this new world of dragons and magic and gold.
“Okay,” he said, and lifted her up as easily as if she were a feather, not a grown woman. “Let me show you.”
He carried her down the hall to his hoard, stopping as they went for an urgent kiss or two.
He smelled clean, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. It was nice.
Better yet was the sure way he touched her, his arms keeping her steady as he walked swiftly toward his hoard. Toward that bed with the soft, golden bedspread.
“I want to take you flying,” he said. “As soon as we can—”
“I feel like I’m flying right now,” she confessed.
He unlocked the door to his hoard, and it felt like the room was nothing but glowing, warm gold. He placed her delicately on the bed, sitting right on the edge, and went to take a step back. She didn’t let him. Instead, she pulled him close and tugged at his clothes.
It seemed like there was an awful lot to take off: his sweater, then a pale blue button-up shirt, then a white t-shirt underneath. But then she could see his broad, muscular chest. She reached her palms across his chest, trying to touch as much of his skin as she could. He didn’t have much chest hair; she wondered if it was a dragon thing.
He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. She felt his hands reaching for her, for the back of her sweater. He grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head. She had a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath, which she pulled off herself, even though she had to wiggle in her embrace to do it. She wanted her skin to be touching his, now. Her skin was on fire, as brilliantly gold as the bedspread she was on.
He seemed to understand what she wanted, grabbing her light thermal underwear next and pulling it after her shirt, then getting his hands to the clasp of her bra. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I’ve wanted to see you like this since you woke up.”
“What is that, two hours?”
He laughed, a little embarrassed. “Maybe three. But—Rachel. I knew. I knew this would feel—” Her bra came undone, and he gasped. “Rachel,” he said, and he sounded like the happiest man in the world.
She laughed too, and pulled him close to her for another kiss, so she could feel her breasts against his muscles. It felt so, so good. Even better when he took his warm hands and put them on her bare back. His mouth was warm and wet against hers, and the way he moved his tongue gave her little shivers up and down her back.
Brad tried to move away from her, but she pulled him back. She didn’t want to lose his touch, no matter what he had in mind. It felt too good just the way it was.
“Mmm,” he said, pulling back a little from the kiss in response. “If that’s what you want—”
He rolled down on the bed next to her, pulling her with him. It took her mind a second to orient itself, but she realized quickly what had happened: he’d pulled her fully on top of him, her jeans against his, her bare breasts pushing down into his chest.
“Oh,” she said, the sound escaping her before she’d even realized.
He laughed. “That’s more like it,” he said, and pressed a warm, wet kiss into her bare shoulder. He continued kissing her, guiding her body up so he could kiss a line down her chest and to her left breast. He took her nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to tease it even harder. She rode her hips against his, feeling his hardness. Her panties were pretty much soaked through. Oh, she wanted him. She was as turned on as a high school kid.
It sure felt like he was, too.
He pushed his hips up against her, as if to confirm her thoughts. He reached across her chest with a thumb and started teasing her right nipple, setting off another chain reaction of pleasure. She gasped. Her right hand was still supporting her weight, but her left hand had become tangled in the bedspread, clutching at the fabric as she tried to hold herself together. He hadn’t even touched her below the waist and she already felt like she was ready to come apart.
“Good?” he whispered.
She could only nod. She wanted him, wanted so much. It felt so good to be near him, to touch him. Maybe he was right about this whole mate thing. Maybe—
With a final lick, he let go of both breasts, and pushed her further up his body, so her breasts were almost even with his chin. He nuzzled and kissed at them both. Rachel could only moan. Her whole body was beginning to shake; she couldn’t begin to control the way her body was reacting. He felt so good. Everything felt so good, so warm, so perfect.
His hands traveled down her sides as he kissed at her breasts, and she had to put both hands down to support her weight. Before she realized what he was going to do, Brad had unbuttoned her jeans, and was pulling the fly open. There’s no way we can get them off without me moving, she thought. What’s he going to do?
He took his face from her breasts and tilted his chin up. “Roll over,” he said. It wasn’t a command, but as far as her libido was concerned it might as well have been. She was helpless to do anything but what he asked.
She rolled on her back, and she just caught his brilliant smile before he started pulling her jeans over her hips, taking her thermals and panties with him. At least they can dry out a little, she thought, before he put his hands back on her breasts and she couldn’t think at all any more.
He kissed each breast just once, then started kissing a line down her body, starting at her breastbone and going lower and lower. He lingered for a second at her navel, then started again. She was moaning hard by then, wetter than she’d been in years, helpless to do anything but reach out for his chest and shoulders as he worked his way down her body and open her legs as he kissed her pelvis and then went still lower. He licked at the hair on her pelvis, then started working his mouth between her legs.
She spread her legs so wide she could feel them stretch. She wanted him, wanted his mouth, more than she could stand. Every inch of her body blazed with heat.
His mouth was wet and warm and she shivered again as he worked his way into her folds. The heat was unbearable now, and she writhed against the thick silk. Everything was golden around her; the room, the heat. Brad was making her ache, and she twisted her body against the sheets. Every inch of her was alive with sensation.
She moaned again. Brad put a firm, warm hand on her thigh, stroking the skin there. His touch was gentle and light, and made her shake even harder.
Brad licked at her again, and then his tongue slid further and deeper into her—
Oh.
She was too overwhelmed to scream. Her whole universe had moved down to one tiny point, to Brad and his mouth and tongue inside her, wet, hot, unbearably good. He was moving slowly, deliberately, and she felt like she was about to come apart. He reached deliberately between her legs, and his light, electric touch found her clit.
Then she screamed, her voice sounding harsh, her throat tightening as her whole body was taken over by pleasure, her orgasm a hot wave that took over every sense.
It took a long, long time for the shaking to subside, for the rest of the room to slowly pull back into focus. She looked up at the ceiling while she caught her breath.
“I think I could watch you like that forever,” Brad said with relish. “Or sketch you.” He still sounded out of breath.
Of course, he must still be hard. “You can—”
“I think I might,” he said, and she could hear hunger in his voice. “Rachel, I have to say—”
But he was interrupted by a high-pitched noise, like a siren. “Is that?”
“Alarm.” He was already standing up, tugging his pants on. “You’d better—”
She was already moving too, grabbing her clothes by the fistful and trying to figure out what she could get on fast. There was never time to lose in a fire, but she didn’t want to freeze to death, either. Her panties and jeans could be stepped into, but everything up top was going to take more effort.
“It might not be a fire,” he said. “There’s other things that can trigger the alarm. Get what you can on and stay behind me. We left the blaster back in the kitchen, so let’s get to that fast.”
She had been in too much of a hurry to think about self-defense. “Do you think it’s the other dragons?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I think so.” He glanced back at her. “You ready?” He’d pulled his pants together, but had kept his shirt off. I suppose he can turn back into a dragon whenever he wants to.
“I’m ready,” she said. She’d decided to just put on as many clothes as she could as they walked.
“Let’s get back to the kitchen first. Then you’ll have Zed in hand.”
She nodded. She hooked her bra back on as they walked, then started on the long underwear. She had that over her head by the time they got back to the table and their half-eaten lasagna. She walked to the counter and grabbed the blaster, draping her remaining clothes over her other arm. “How can you tell where the problem is?”
“There’s different tones,” he said. “You’ll learn, eventually—” His eyes went wide, and he threw an arm around her waist. On instinct, she froze, waiting for him to move.
Over the sound of the music that was still playing in the kitchen, she could hear a dragon’s claws scraping against the marble surface of the stairs. Was there just one, or were there more?
Five minutes ago, she’d been the most contented she’d ever been. Now her heart was pounding all over again, tension rising in her chest. She took Brad’s arm and pointed: up or down?
He drew in the air with his thumb, dipping it down and moving quickly up.
So they were coming from downstairs. She wiggled her fingers: one or two?
He held up two fingers.
She dropped her t-shirt and pulled her sweater over her head. She wanted to be warm enough to not be distracted, and she wasn’t going to waste time putting on all her layers. She had to be ready.
“So the good news,” he murmured, “is there’s probably not a fire. Just—these guys. I think they probably broke in on the lower level, where the—”
He froze again, his hand steady on her arm. Rachel made sure she had a solid grip on the blaster.
He looked back at her, then pointed—behind the counter. “I’ve got this. You stay back.”
“Are you—”
He pointed again, nodding, reassuring her that he would be all right.
They had to know she was there; if they could hear the claws, the dragons could hear her. But out of sight would mean they wouldn’t be trying to hurt her when Brad confronted them. She went ahead and crouched behind the kitchen counter. She could still listen, anyway.
She heard the sound of Brad’s transformation, heard his wings shake out. She could see the top of his wings over the counter, broad and leathery. She had time now to look at their golden color. He was so strong. But there were two of them, and just one of him. Rachel wished Doug had come already, that they weren’t all trapped by the storm.
But she had the blaster, at least. That could at least buy them time.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe some kind of growl, any kind of communication—but instead, she saw the first dragon, whose wings were blue-black, leap onto Brad without a sound. They grappled almost silently for a few seconds, and all Rachel could hear was claws scrabbling on stone and the furious flapping of wings. They crashed into the kitchen island, and the whole room shook. Something—it might have been the mixer—crashed hard to the floor.
Then the second dragon joined in the fight. His wings were pale green. At least I can tell them apart, she thought. But she couldn’t see anything else, just the wings appearing and disappearing over the edge of the counter. She could hear the noises of their struggle. The angle she was in and the tight space they were in made it hard to tell who might be winning or losing. They couldn’t be too old—they were both around Brad’s size. That hopefully meant they weren’t any stronger than Brad, either.
I can’t just stay here and hope for the best, she thought. She had to at least try to take a better look.
She pulled her legs underneath her, so she could be in a crouch. That would make it easier for her to move fast if she needed to. Then she let her eyes peek over the countertop. They were still fighting—there was no way they’d have time to go searching for her, not yet. And if they did see her, that was what the blaster was for. A gun would have scared her, but the blaster wouldn’t kill them, wouldn’t even really hurt them. She knew she could pull the trigger if she had to.
Dragons moved fast, and fought fast. It was hard to keep track of the blurring wings and claws. She kept an eye out for color, as it was the easiest way to tell who Brad was. But she couldn’t say if he was winning or not. Brad hadn’t thought to warn her about how fast dragons could be. She was too slow to try to help anyone in a fight, even if she wanted to. She could only watch the struggle.
And then they suddenly dropped from her sight, and she could hear the thundering sounds as at least one dragon fell down the stairs, the others in hot pursuit. Had it been Brad that fell, or one of the attackers?
She could hear the roaring and crashing fade, but it was clear the fighting wasn’t slowing down. She might not be able to tell who was winning, but she knew Brad hadn’t lost yet. She wished she could cheer him on.
One of the dragons made a harsh, loud cry, so sharp it almost hurt her ears. It wasn’t Brad, but she wasn’t able to tell which of the other men it was. Were they trying to communicate with one another? Or was it an attempt to intimidate?
If she’d been alone, Rachel would have felt plenty intimidated, that was for sure. Hell, she still did.
But she couldn’t let Brad fight alone. She tightened her grip on the gun and started down the stairs.
The climb down hadn’t seemed as long or lonely when she’d been with Brad, that was for sure. She tried to keep her steps as quiet as she could—she was grateful for her lack of shoes—but she was sure if the dragons hadn’t been so busy fighting, they could hear her.
She stopped for a second on a landing to catch her breath. How far down was she? Was she even going to be able to help Brad? They’d tried to kill her, and now they were attacking—
Her mate.
Rachel realized she felt the bond as strongly as Brad said he did, as strongly as her love of the mountains and her sister. Brad was hers.
And she was going to protect him.
Even if she wasn’t sure how yet.
She hurried down the rest of the stairs, pushing her fear aside and ignoring the ache in her legs.
The three dragons were still grappling as she made it into the big space, their wings beating the air and blowing back her hair. It was almost like a gentle breeze, if the crashing and chaos wasn’t so frightening. There wasn’t much cover there, but there was an old car that she managed to duck behind. She didn’t have time to wonder how it got there, but she filed the question away for later.
Brad was on top of the black dragon, with the green dragon hovering behind, waiting for an opening.
The black dragon lunged for Brad’s throat, and Rachel had to bite back a scream. Brad was ready for the attack, though, rolling his body around just in time to deflect the dragon’s fangs, landing heavily on the stone floor. Brad’s own wings folded and unfolded, catching the air and lending power to his attack. The black dragon stumbled, thrown off-balance by Brad’s response. They were less than a foot away from each other, but it gave Brad time to get off the floor. His tail swung around in a dangerous, powerful movement, crashing into the dragon’s face. The dragon skidded across the floor, landing almost on the old car giving Rachel cover. Rachel realized that it was just a little smaller than the car itself—bigger than Brad or the green dragon.
He’s winning! Rachel felt relief flood through her. Still, he wouldn’t be out of the woods yet. And what would they do when the fight was over?
The black dragon was clearly stunned. That let Brad give the greenish dragon his full attention. With only one opponent now, Rachel could better understand the fight, and could tell that the green dragon wasn’t as strong as Brad, though they were close to equal in speed. Brad’s blows landed with greater weight, and he soon had the advantage, landing several strong punches to the green dragon with his front claws (Arms? Were they arms, when you were a dragon?).
The black dragon raised his head, and Rachel felt as much as saw the beginning of the flame.
Her instincts took over: she didn’t know for sure how flameproof the lair was, but she didn’t even think that clearly. She just acted, coming out from the cover of the old car and shooting the black dragon just once, as closely as she dared.
It wasn’t until the dragon howled in pain, his image shimmering from dragon to human and back again, that she fully realized she had pulled the trigger.
And that the dragons still engaged in the fight were looking straight at her.
She dove back behind the car, a tongue of hot flame blazing over the counter as she went, her muscles screaming in protest. She didn’t move that fast outside cardio class, and in class she did a warmup first.
She put her back to the metal and tried to catch her breath. She could still hear the dragons fighting. Was it her imagination, or were the blows harder now?
Rachel wanted to take another look, but a second spurt of flame over her head kept her where she was. She might have an anti-magic weapon, but it wouldn’t matter if the dragon set her arm on fire before she could shoot it. She had to be careful not to let the metal at her back get too hot, either.
The fight ended with something—someone—crashing into the car, so hard this time that she felt the impact of the metal on her back.
She froze, too scared to move.
Then, to her relief, she heard a familiar voice.
“Are you all right?” Brad asked.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m…you’re all right?”
“Yes,” he said. “I need your help, though.”
She got up. The black dragon was on the ground, unmoving. “Is he—”
“They’re both alive, which is why I need you,” he said. “We need to get these guys secure.”
“Okay,” she said. “Tell me what I need to do.” She walked closer to the black dragon, carefully. His eyes were closed. He still looked like a dragon but he seemed…thinner, somehow. Like a photocopy instead of an original drawing. “Did that hurt him?”
“Yeah,” he said, not particularly concerned. “He’ll live. You remember where the—blaster was, where you got it?”
“Yes,” she said. Brad was kneeling, holding an unfamiliar weapon to the neck of the green dragon. The green dragon’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving at all. It was hard to tell if he was even breathing.
“Down here, it’s…basically a similar system. There’s some heavy cord in that cupboard by the stairs. We’re going to get these two secure.”
“This—this isn’t common, right? Like…this doesn’t happen regularly or anything?”
He shook his head. “We all get trained on it, but it’s like a fire drill at school. I…wouldn’t have ever told you this kind of thing happened, honestly. We’ll have to wait for my uncle to come here to get any answers, but we can at least keep ourselves safe.”
The cupboard had ski equipment, some basic tools, nothing too unfamiliar, though the shelves stretched far over her head. Over to the right, though, was an opaque container that didn’t look like any cleaning product she’d ever seen. She reached for it, and then through it, the way she had the countertop. Inside was a thick cord that felt soft as silk. Of course, silk’s strong, too. She pulled the whole box out and set it on the floor next to the car. “Do I just…pull it out?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s start with this guy, while the big black one’s taking a nap.”
“Fighting two at once must have been hard.”
He glanced at her. “I’ve had worse, honestly. They’re both untrained, but the one you took down—he’s strong as hell. I got a lucky shot in with him, and then you came in, made things a lot easier for me. That little knife you saw, that’s…well, my magic, I guess you’d call it.” He sighed. “My dad’s gonna flip when he sees what happened to his car.”
“You’re going to have to tell me what an old Model A’s doing here,” she said, digging into the box until she got her hand on the end of the cord. “So…we just tie them up? Like we’re gonna hook them to the railroad tracks?”
He laughed. “More or less. Hands and feet…well. Front and back legs. They won’t be able to change form once they’re secured with that cord.” Brad stepped back a little from the green dragon, but kept his blade directly at his throat. “Try not to touch me with the cord. It won’t hurt me, but it won’t feel great.”
“Got it,” she said. “No touching. Um…I’m not much of a knot-tier.”
“You don’t have to be a great one,” he said. “The cord has some magic attached, you probably already figured that out. And I can coach you through it.”
She nodded. “What’s this made out of? It feels like silk.”
“It is,” he said. “With a little enchantment added. No dragon’s going to be able to tear through it.” He shifted his weight a little, and the dragon’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry,” Brad told him. “I won’t hurt you. I know how to use this.”
“Did he have it?”
Brad shook his head. “This is mine. I keep it in my back pocket—normally it’s just a pocketknife, but it’s been enchanted to protect the lair. Anyone who means harm to anyone in the family—it hurts like burning, and that’s just for starters. Kind of a weapon of last resort, but that’s where we’re at.”
She kneeled down and started spooling cord over the dragon’s…well, wrists seemed like a close enough word. “Do I need to worry about cutting off his circulation or anything?”
He considered. “Maybe. Tie it securely, not tightly, just in case. This…isn’t something that comes up a lot.”
“That’s good,” she said.
“True,” he said. “Let me see the knot.”
She’d tied a simple knot, the kind she used when she tied her shoes. The dragon’s wrists were thicker than a human’s, making it harder to see the transition from the end of his hands to the muscles in his arms. Still, there was enough of a wrist there that she could tie him securely.
“Tug it, make sure he’s not moving,” he said. “And then loop the free end of the rope around a couple of times and I’ll have you make a second knot.”
“Okay.”
He talked her through knotting the dragon’s wrists together again with a different knot. Then Rachel tied the dragon’s feet. They saved the wings for last, finally securing hands, wings and feet together with one length of cord. “That’ll hold him for a while,” he said, putting the knife down. “Let’s get to the big guy. I’ll hold the knife again, in case he starts waking up.”
“So you—train for fights?” she asked, as she was tying the black dragon’s wrists together.
“Yeah, but it’s like basic self-defense, like learning karate at the corner dojo or something. Well, I learned karate too. But we learn how to fight as dragons, and we used to spar all the time anyway—we were kids, mostly boys, so we had a lot of energy we wanted to get out, and we could only play some team sports.”
“Why only some?” She pulled the second knot tight and went to work on the dragon’s ankles.
“We’re strong,” he said. “So it’s not really a fair advantage in some things. Basketball, strength doesn’t matter as much, but football, it kind of gets obvious. Being fair’s—well, it’s important to the clan. I did a lot of kata work in karate, but I didn’t do much hand-to-hand fighting. We’re only really faster than humans in dragon form, so it was okay to do that, or basketball. There’s actually a big debate among the clans over whether we should play baseball and softball or not.” He grinned. “We can’t hit the ball more accurately, but we can sure hit it hard and fast.”
“Did you play?”
He shook his head. “Our clan said no baseball or softball. I ran track, and I watched Yankees games. My brothers and sister played basketball, too, but it was too loud for me.”
“Is that a dragon thing?”
“It’s a me thing. I like the quiet.”
“I do too,” she said, and pulled the next knot tight. “What do we do next? After they’re tied up?”
“We’re going to keep them somewhere nice and quiet for the night, where they won’t get into much trouble, and then Doug will deal with them in the morning. If they’re connected to a clan, the Council will handle it.”
“If they’re not?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Brad said. “That’s the kind of stuff Doug takes care of. Let’s get them secure, anyway. I guess they can go in the room you were in.”
“Should we leave them a bucket or something?”
“Doug will be here early,” Brad said. “They should be all right…but maybe.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re pretty thoughtful, considering they tried to kill you.”
“I don’t want to be mean, I guess. Do you need a hand or anything?”
“You can open the door for me,” he said. “There’s a lock—I didn’t want to put it on for you, but these guys I don’t care about freaking out.”
“Me neither,” she said. “You can scare the heck out of them for all I care. Can they hear us?”
“The conscious one can,” he said.
She looked over at the green dragon. “You get a bucket,” she said. “But you owe me.”
Brad chuckled. “A benevolent dictator,” he said. “Just my type.” He dragged the black dragon up the stairs first—he had said that one was heavier—and had Rachel get a bucket when he brought in the green dragon. He locked the door behind them with a wave of magic. “Do you still have the blaster?” he asked.
“Yeah. What now?”
“We try to figure out how they came in.” He looked back and forth from her to the stairwell for a moment. “I don’t know if you’ll be safer up here or coming with me….”
“I’ll feel safer with you.” Especially knowing the men who attacked her were just down the hall. They might have been tied up, but their presence still felt dangerous.
“Okay,” he said, and held out his arm to her. “I’ll trust your instincts.”
She took his hand, and together they made their way down the stairwell. He went first, keeping her close to his waist. “Let’s move slow,” Brad said, “in case they dropped something.”
“Weren’t they dragons when they—”
“Probably, but I don’t want to miss anything. I know I keep telling you that things like this just don’t happen…but things like this just don’t happen. I want to have all the information I can when Doug comes in the morning.” He shook his head. “I have a lot to explain. And Dad’s not going to believe what happened to the car.”
“What’s it doing way up here anyway?”
“Believe it or not,” he said, “he’s been building it from scratch, one part at a time. I never could figure out what he wanted to do with it once he was done.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out more like hysteria. The dragons had tried to kill them both. How could—
“Hey,” Brad said, and wrapped her tight in his arms. “I’m here. It’s over.”
She was shaking. When had she started shaking?
Brad held her, his arms strong and reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”
They stayed there a while on the stairs while her heart rate got back to normal. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s the last thing you should apologize for,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You okay to go on?”
“Please,” she said. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“I figure we’ll start retracing their steps, see what signs we can find. We get lucky, it should be pretty obvious. We know they came from down here—shit. I just realized I had a huge fight in our damn kitchen. I guess Protocol Zed wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
“I guess not,” she agreed. “Do you think they—broke in?”
“It would explain the drilling noises and the shaking pretty well.”
“Maybe you should be a detective instead of a manager,” she said, as they started walking again.
“Sometimes when you’re the manager you need to be both. We had mice in here last fall, and that was a big mystery.”
“Mice?” There was no way they could have tunneled through solid rock.
“My youngest brother hadn’t properly sealed one of the windows. I still don’t know why they found the place so appealing, but they staked out a claim, for sure.” He shook his head. “We made him do most of the cleaning up after them. He’s the most squeamish of all of us, but—that’s what you get when you let in mice.”
“Seems fair,” she said. They were back at the level where the fight had ended. “Let’s turn the lights up, if you can. Then I can be more help.”
“Good idea,” he said. He let go of her hand—Rachel missed his touch immediately—and went over to the panel that controlled the lights.
Then Rachel noticed where the wall had changed. “Actually—” She pointed.
Where the shaking and noise had been, there was now a visible break through the wall. Not big enough for a dragon to sneak through, but enough for humans to pass. They must have come in as humans and transformed afterward.
“Good job,” Brad said, and joined her at the broken wall.
“It looks like they chose where there had been the big crack—where the wall was already stressed—to break through. Just pried it apart by the looks of things.” Maybe they’d just planned on robbing the clan all along? “Oh, hey, here’s some torn fabric—we get to be detectives after all.”
“There sure is,” Brad said, with satisfaction. “Jeans—a little bit of t-shirt.”
“You’re sure the were the same men?” Rachel asked.
He nodded. “You can tell, when you’re in dragon form. Hard to explain. More like you just know.” His fingers traced over the cracks. “We need to figure out how to block off this break, too,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else wandering in tonight. We need to rest. I can put wards on the door, but I’d rather have two layers of safety.”
“Me too,” Rachel agreed. “Do you not normally ward the door down here?”
“We’re in the heart of a mountain,” Brad said. “Felt a little like overkill. But I guess not really.” He stepped back, looking at the fracture pattern. “Too bad I don’t have any quick-dry cement down here.”
“It wouldn’t hold that well to the stone,” Rachel said. “Probably the easiest thing to do for now is just a fill-in. Whoever did this once will be able to do it again unless we go through that crack and figure out what’s on the other side, and I don’t think that’s safe for just the two of us.”
“I agree,” he said. “I’m not putting you at any more risk than I can help.”
“Can you tell what a dragon shifter looks like as a human from what they’re like as a dragon?”
“Not really. Dragon color is a little like eye color, but it doesn’t connect with anything you can see when you’re not shifted.” Brad was looking up and down the hole in the wall thoughtfully. “I guess you won’t recognize either of them, either way. Stand back, please. I’m going to try moving some of this rubble around, so we can at least block the hole for tonight. I don’t want anything to hurt you.” He glanced back at her. “I’m going to change to do it, so don’t—I know it’s weird.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “I think it’s kind of cool.”
“Cool?” He was still staring at the wall.
“Yeah.”
She heard the smile creep into his voice. “Well…good.” In the blink of an eye, the man was gone and the dragon was there, stretching his wings out wide. He looked so powerful, and seemed more powerful still when he reached out and started manipulating the rubble. It looked like he was sculpting the stone, like a potter would work with clay. He must be using magic.
The wall didn’t look perfect when he was done, but it at least would present a challenge to anyone who wanted to break through again. Brad transformed back, shaking his wings just before he turned fully human.
He turned back to her. “Look all right to you?”
“A lot better, anyway,” she said. “I’m afraid my research doesn’t cover dragon magic, though.”
“Maybe we can get you some funding,” he said. “We’ve always wondered about that.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We should talk about it in the morning. Along with…everything else.” He shook his head. “Is it as late as it feels?”
“Probably.” She checked her wristband. “It…isn’t early.”
“Well, Doug will be here early. We should probably get some sleep. Do you mind sharing with me?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I think I owe you something.”
He shook his head. “I think I’m too tired. But maybe in the morning? I’d love to wake up with you.”
“I would too,” she said.