Chapter Five
River watched Noah Munroe and three of his friends clean up what was left of her cattle. They’d loaded up the half-eaten carcasses into the back of Noah’s small pickup and were now shoveling up the rest.
A summer breeze wafted through the vale like dragon’s breath, filling her nostrils with the stench of charred meat. Everything her father had.
I didn’t do it, River.
She scowled at the dragon’s voice invading her thoughts. If she heard it for the next ten centuries, it would never cease to jar her. She’d fainted the first time she’d heard it. But then she’d grown to like the husky timbre of it, the way it filled her to her core, like mist filling all her shadows, and swept her away to a place where the stars sang. But he’d gone back on his word. He’d come back and destroyed her cattle. Why hers? He’d been nice to her. She’d almost hoped they could be friends. How many people could say they were friends with a dragon?
Why, Drakkon? Why did you do it?
I didn’t. I give you my word.
Then what did? she demanded. Her heart went a little cold at the thought of more of them going around undetected. How many more of you are there?
Apparently, there is one more than I thought, he admitted.
And when had she started referring to a dragon as he instead of it? It was a predator, an intelligent and very dangerous one for all mankind.
Where are you now? she asked him.
On my way to Tahiti.
Good. Never come back.
“That’s almost everything, River,” Noah called out to her, his truck loaded with the remains of her father’s life. Wray cattle had provided some of the best Scotch beef in Scotland.
How would they live on her and Ivy’s paychecks? She was going to have to try to get some hours in the distillery.
She waved to Noah, whose younger brother, Graham, would likely marry Ivy in the next year. The two had been friends before they could walk.
“Thank you, Noah. Stop and let me make you lunch. It’s the least I can do.” She was happy when he nodded and set down his shovel. She missed Noah and their talks. He’d always been her friend. He gave good advice and had always done his best to protect her from the children who’d bullied her. She wanted to tell him first about the dragon.
Who is Noah?
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. I told you to leave me alone.
What color is his hair?
What?
Why was this crazy reptile concerned with the color of Noah’s hair? He’d retuned and attacked her farm, and he was taking about hair? Why was she speaking to him?
Is it black, River?
Black? Colin’s hair was black.
Why? she asked. Why do you want to know? Did he know something about her ex from Edinburgh? How would he? He’d told her he wouldn’t read her thoughts. Had he lied about that, too?
Never mind.
She waited for more but nothing came. Was that it? Was he finally going to do as she asked and leave her and her village alone? She had a feeling it wasn’t over. Was he going to eat Colin? She wasn’t as opposed to the idea of it as she thought she’d be.
She smiled when Noah and his friends reached her and invited them inside.
When she turned for the door after them, she spotted someone coming up the road from Tarbert and heading for Noah’s pickup. Summer sunlight glinted off wheaten, shoulder-length hair tied at the back of his neck while he bent his nose to the carcasses.
“Noah,” she called out to her friend inside. “Do you know this guy?”
He was tall, at least 6’2” and solidly built. He wore a leather backpack over a black leather jacket, slim black jeans and lace-up boots. Every single thing about him was appealing. She’d never seen him—no, she thought as he left the truck and came toward the house, she had seen him before. In the shop. The same day she’d seen the dragon.
She’d never forget his beautiful face, his shy smile, the cut of his strong chin and wide jaw. Or his eyes, like sapphire jewels on fire from within. Who was he? What was he doing back here? Was it a coincidence that the two times she’d seen him were on days when the dragon was around? She had no idea if it meant anything, but she wouldn’t take chances.
She kept her eyes on the stranger approaching her door. A breeze blew a rogue lock of white hair tinged with the palest traces of gold across his eyes.
“Never seen him before,” Noah said, stepping in front of her. “Can I help you?”
The stranger quirked his full mouth into a friendly smile, flashing straight, white teeth. River’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you the owner of this farm?” he asked Noah, looking him over from foot to golden crown.
“The farm belongs to my father, Hagan Wray,” River said, stepping forward.
He set his molten gaze on her and reached out his hand. “Jacob Wilder.”
River let him take her hand and, for one insane moment, she couldn’t feel the rest of her body, only her quickened heartbeat. His touch was warm, firm, lingering. His voice was soft and husky, his words, slow and laced with an accent she couldn’t place. Scottish, with traces of American, a little German, and a whole lotta sexy. His gaze and his smile softened on her, as if he knew her and was happy to see her again, though they’d only met briefly that morning in the shop.
“I’m River Wray,” she said, taking back her hand and trying to steady her breath. She’d seen handsome men before, but hell…no one like him. “What can I do for you?”
He looked to the field to their left, where the charred remains of her cattle remained. “I’ve come to help make certain this doesn’t happen again.”
“What doesn’t happen again?” Noah asked him. “Do you know what happened here? Because we don’t.”
Mr. Wilder’s gaze hardened as he returned it to Noah, but his smile remained intact. “I’m afraid I’m only at liberty to speak with Miss…?” He flicked his jewel-like gaze to her and waited for confirmation of her marital status. When she nodded, he continued. “With Miss Wray about it.”
“At liberty by who?” Noah demanded. He was a big guy, a descendant of Viking blood. But Mr. Wilder’s level gaze on him didn’t waver.
“By the government,” he answered Noah with a note of impatience in his voice.
“Which one?”
“All of them.”
River’s face drained of color. They knew about the dragon. What were they going to do? Did they think she was involved with it?
“Do you have I.D.?”
Mr. Wilder handed her three. They all looked very official but none of their names meant anything to her. “I’m a hunter,” he said, returning his gaze to hers. “In order to catch my prey, I must remain as elusive as my enemy.”
His enemy. He was here about the dragon, no doubt. He said he was a hunter. He was here to kill Drakkon. How did she feel about it? Why did the dragon have to kill her cattle?
“May I speak with you privately, Miss Wray?”
Whether he was a hunter or a loon, she had to find out what he knew, hear what he had to say. He wouldn’t talk to her with Noah and the others there, so she turned to her old friend. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Keep Ivy inside for me, will you?” It took a bit of convincing but Noah finally left her side.
Left alone with the stranger, River squinted at him in the sun. “Why are you here?”
“May we walk?”
She nodded, wondering how many of his softly spoken requests she would give in to. She followed when he led the way to the field.
“You said you were a hunter.” He smelled good and he looked expensive she thought, walking at his side. “What do you hunt?”
He remained silent for a moment and then paused in his steps to look at her when he spoke. “Dragons.”
She knew it but her legs still trembled beneath her. Despite seeing the dragon and speaking to him in her head, there was still a small part of her that doubted any of it was real. Jacob Wilder, whoever the hell he was, just confirmed that it was.
“I know what you must be thinking, Miss Wray. But I assure you dragons are real.”
“Oh, trust me, you don’t know what I’m thinking.” Should she tell him she’d seen the big white one he was probably here hunting the last time she saw him? About the one her father had seen years ago? She didn’t know how she should react to his statement. Her father would love the validation but there was only one thing she wanted to know. “How many are there?”
“There are a few,” he said in his slow, seductive voice, as if he weren’t talking about dragons but the weather.
While the thought of it scared the hell out of her, she couldn’t help but rejoice that, perhaps, it wasn’t Drakkon who’d done this. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked him as they entered the field. If he was with some secret agency, wouldn’t this all be top secret stuff?
“Because when I was here last, I had tracked one to a crag nearby. I had just missed him, but I saw you. You’ve seen the dragon, so I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”
River’s heart pounded but she worked to slow it. He knew she’d seen the dragon. Was his agency going to kill her to keep her quiet?
“Why didn’t you say something in the shop that morning?”
“There wasn’t any reason to,” he told her, bending to the charred grass and lifting some to his nose. “Contrary to what you think, we don’t care who sees them. The testimonies that the rest of the world scoffs at usually give us our best leads. We want people to come forward, but I wasn’t about to force information out of you.”
That was reasonable, and a relief. He was who he said he was, a hunter of dragons hired by the world’s governments. He knew a thing or two about dragons. “Do you think the dragon I saw is the same one that did this?”
He could have easily said yes. But he didn’t. He didn’t have to tell her anything else. But he did. “The one you saw, the White, has been peaceful for a long time,” he said, standing again. “He’s difficult to find because he leaves no evidence of his presence. He’s careful. He doesn’t go around killing and burning people or cattle. If he did, we would have known about it.”
If Drakkon wasn’t responsible for this, then she owed him an apology, and would keep her end of the bargain. She wouldn’t tell Mr. Wilder anything.
Drakkon? She called out in her mind while Wilder looked around more. Can you hear me? I’m sorry. She waited, listening, but no reply came.
“So now what, Mr. Wilder?”
“Now,” he drew in a deep breath. “You have another problem. One that only I can help you with.”
“Thank you, but I have a question,” she said, then laughed. “More like a million actually.”
“Ask,” he gave in on a whisper and a smile that warmed his eyes.
It was difficult to concentrate with him looking at her like he would have given anything she asked. Why would he? She was nothing special. She didn’t try to look less plain with makeup. She was happy with her big “ghostly” eyes and gangly body. But a man like Jacob Wilder would never be content with someone like her.
His eyes sparked with shards of gold encrusted in sapphire she hadn’t noticed before. They roved over her features, her hair, taking her in as if he’d just laid eyes on the world’s greatest treasure. She was tempted to smile at him, but she was afraid she might fall into his arms like some stricken fool.
“If the ‘White’ as you call him, is peaceful, why were you hunting him?”
He pushed his stray hair behind his ears. “I was raised to hunt them,” he answered quietly. “To believe that no matter how dormant they were, they would eventually rise. It would seem,” he said, returning his sun-drenched gaze to her, “one of them has. I can’t let this get any worse.”
“No, you can’t,” she agreed, and then had a thought. “Maybe the white dragon can help us.”
She was surprised that such a laid back fellow would let a simple suggestion ruffle him to the point of not being able to speak for a moment.
You think I’d aid a man who has been like a boil on my ass for the last four months?
She was even more surprised at how happy she was to hear Drakkon’s voice.
“And what do you mean us?” Mr. Wilder asked before she could reply to Drakkon. “There is no us. You’re not a hunter and you must never think you can fight and kill one. Do you understand? I don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but it’s a dragon. It flies. It breathes fire. It may not stop at eating cattle. If you see it, promise me you’ll hide.”
River, promise the worm. He’s right.
“I promise.”
He smiled, looking too relieved for a man she just met. Why would he even worry that she’d try to fight a dragon? Did he think she was an idiot?
You faced me down fearlessly, Drakkon’s voice echoed through her head.
Right, River agreed, but he doesn’t know that. He only knows that I saw you.
Wilder muttered something unintelligible and then fumbled for something in his backpack. “Do you have WiFi? I need to make a call.”
“No, but most of the B&Bs in Tarbert do.”
He looked up at the sky and then back toward the road. “I just came from there. I should have checked.”
She smiled behind her hand. “Yes.” He should have. Tarbert was over an hour’s walk away. “I could ask Noah to give you a ride.”
“No,” he said, stopping her when she moved to return to the house. “I don’t mind the walk and it’s important that I make the call.” He didn’t leave right away but shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He moved his tongue against the side of his cheek then ran it over his lips. “Are you going that way?”
She shook her head.
He raised his brows. “To work? At the Tweed shop?”
He remembered her then. She didn’t know why it made her want to smile. “It’s Sunday.”
He thought about it for a moment and then shook his head at himself and laughed. The sound was more like a short series of deep baritone grunts that made the soles of River’s feet burn. “Ah, right, it is.”
Dolt.
Stop it. I think he’s sweet.
And what else?
She didn’t answer but blushed looking at the shape of the hunter’s mouth. His bottom lip was plump and pouty and fashioned to be bitten.
His dipped his chin and smiled when he caught her admiring them. She blushed an even deeper shade of magenta.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh? You’re coming back then?” she asked twisting a belt loop of her jeans.
“Yes.” He lifted his gaze to hers and let his smile shine on her full force. “I’m going to protect you.”
She watched him go, wanting to laugh. Had the dragon hunter ever seen a real dragon? Did he know how big they were? Jacob Wilder didn’t even carry a weapon, unless he had one hidden in his backpack. How was he going to protect her? Why her? Why not some other farmer who might be in the dragon’s path? The dragon who ate her cattle was probably long gone by now. But what if it wasn’t? Did Mr. Wilder know something and wasn’t telling her? She looked around at the mountains and cliffs in the distance. It could be hiding anywhere.
Don’t be afraid, River.
I’m not afraid, Drakkon. Mr. Wilder has promised to protect me.
He snorted—or breathed fire. She wasn’t sure which. When he spoke, pure, unadulterated arrogance coated his voice. What can a man do that Drakkon cannot?
She looked up at the sky. What she needed was a dragon to protect her from another dragon, but Drakkon had chosen Tahiti. “He can be here, apparently,” she muttered aloud and headed back to the house.
Drakkon was silent.