Miguel Ramirez Lopez

I blinked a few times. No way had I heard them correctly.

“You mean to tell me there’s a human here, and she knows about us?” I all but roared. This was beyond unacceptable behavior.

Francesco shrugged. “I had no choice.”

“You exposed us!” I shouted.

“Again, I had—”

“You made a choice. There’s always a choice. You should have—”

“Should’ve let her become the next victim to the Winged Serpents? I don’t think so. You would’ve done the same if you were there.”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “Because I think ahead. I’m logical and reasonable, and what you did was neither. You were reckless and impulsive. I know you’ve been itching to fight them, but that wasn’t your call to make. We have to have a united front if we’re to survive.”

“What about her surviving?” Francesco shouted. He could be every bit as loud and furious as I could be at times.

This wasn’t the first time the two of us had butted heads. It was a good thing we didn’t have horns, because they would get all tangled if we did.

I was Hispanic and hot-blooded. A cool cucumber I would never be. A thousand different expressions ran though my head to show Francesco just what I thought of him.

It wasn’t that I was furious about him saving the girl. I might not be fully human, but I did care for humans. We all did. They were weaker than us. It was a macho thing, wanting to take care of them. That the Fanged Serpents would dare go after and kill humans infuriated me as much as it did Francesco and Damon. So I got that.

But exposing us? Dragons had been around since the age of dinosaurs. We had always kept ourselves hidden away from even cavemen and Neanderthals. We didn’t want them for enemies, especially considering how similar in nature we were. Half of ourselves was just like the humans. They could not help it that they had only the one form.

Most clans felt as we did, that humans should be protected. All believed that humans should remain ignorant.

Clearly, the Fanged Serpents thought differently. Well, maybe not, considering all humans who saw them ended up dead…

Damon crossed his arms as much as he could. Even I had to say he had impressive biceps. Not that I would ever tell him that.

“You two need to settle down,” he said.

“Settle down?” Francesco shouted.

“Do you want to wake her?” Damon pointed out.

Francesco’s cheeks colored slightly. Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I will go and check on her.”

“You will not.” Damon held out a hand and pressed it against Francesco’s back as he tried to maneuver around Damon to get to the door.

“I will,” I said.

Damon opened his mouth, but I just shook my head. There was no stopping me.

Swiftly, I bolted out of the meeting room and rushed down the hall to a room on the left, where the girl had been taken.

Slowly, I eased the door opened, entered the room, and shut the door behind me. She was sleeping peacefully, and she was anything but a girl. She was mid-twenties and beautiful. Her wounds had been healed already, which meant one of the others had healed her through their blood. That was not good. Not good at all. She was dangerous. A threat. She was already making it so that the three leaders of the clan weren’t communicating. There was no reason any one of us should be making such huge decisions without the others having a voice.

The tray beside her bed was empty. I sniffed. Cream of potato soup and wine. Really? Who had fed her that?

Her red hair framed her face, and she seemed so peaceful. Maybe we should learn who she was and return her to her house.

But she had seen the others, told them she’d seen a dragon. Maybe we should try to convince her she’d seen something else.

The truth… We couldn’t trust her with the truth. That was too much to ask for a human to handle. The fright alone from the realization that dragons existed, that there were dragon shifters, could easily cause a human to have a heart attack.

Hmm. There was no purse in here. Maybe she had her wallet in a pocket.

I slid my hand underneath the sheet and reached toward the pocket nearest to me.

Her eyes opened, a bright green color. I shifted back slightly so that she wouldn’t realize what I had been doing.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m unimportant.” I flashed her a smile. “Who are you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m thirsty, but otherwise I have no complaints.” She hesitated and then easily sat up. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what happened?”

“How would I know?” I shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me, chica?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“You don’t like to be called chica?” I couldn’t help winking at her. “Then tell me your name.”

“What if I don’t want to?” she asked, lifting her chin defiantly.

I grinned. All right, there was something about her that I liked already. Spunk. She was spunky, and she had fire. A spitball. A firecracker. Of course I could appreciate that.

“Fine. Don’t tell me, Chica. No more wine for you. No tacos. No cheesesteak. No cheesecake.”

She sat up straighter. “Got any chocolate?”

“Maybe. In exchange for your name.”

“Chocolate and more wine first. I might, big might, tell you my last name too if you have chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“They your weakness?” I asked.

The woman brushed her hair back. “I have no weakness.”

“None but…” I hesitated. “What did you tell my friends? What hurt you?”

“I’m not hurt.” She blinked a few times. “In fact, I can get up and leave right now, can’t I?” she challenged.

I shrugged. “Sure you can, but no chocolate and no wine then.”

She burst out laughing. “You’re assuming I won’t have any at home.”

“You won’t have my stellar company at home.”

The woman shook her head and brought her hand up toward her temple. “I don’t need company,” she mumbled.

The spark she had showed was dulling some. She had recovered but not completely, not yet at least.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll get you whatever you want in a few. First, I want to make sure you’re all right.”

“Just peachy,” she murmured.

“You’re looking a little pale. Maybe water would be a better choice.”

“Trust me, after what I saw… after being attacked… I need something stronger.”

“What attacked you?”

She glowered at me. “Why don’t you tell me who you are? Why I’m here? How did I get here? You’re lucky I’m not freaking out or calling the police.”

“You like the police?”

Her eyebrows lifted sky high. “You don’t? Why is that?”

“You like to ask a lot of questions.”

“You like to evade answering them,” she said.

“So do you,” I pointed out.

“I’m the one here against my will.”

“You can leave if you want.” I gestured toward the door.

She swallowed hard. “I know I can. It’s just…”

“What?” I asked.

The woman glanced at the window and the nighttime sky.

“I can drive you home,” I offered.

“I don’t tend to accept rides from strangers,” she said dryly.

“But you’ll accept food and drink.”

“Yes?”

I laughed that she’d made the word a question. “Seriously, are you feeling all right? Do you need any medicine?”

“I’m fine. I don’t know how, but I’m fine.”

I stood. “I’ll be right back, chica.”

“Don’t call me that!”

I waved over my shoulder since I was already at the door. Swiftly, I descended the stairs to the kitchen. The three of us leaders lived together in a mansion. From the kitchen, I grabbed two wine glasses and a fresh bottle of Moscato. I placed them on a tray and then grabbed some chocolate. Tossed it into a bowl. Slowly nuked it until it was all melted. From the fridge, I grabbed some strawberries. Placed the bowl and the strawberries on the tray and made my way back to her room. I breathed easier when I saw that the other two hadn’t come in.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise when she saw my offerings.

“For you, chica.”

Before I could place the tray on the bed, she had already grabbed and dunked a strawberry. She held it over her other hand and took a bite. “Yum.”

“You missed a spot.”

She licked her lips.

“Still there.” I leaned over and used my thumb to wipe the chocolate from above her lips. My cock stirred as I thought about tracing her lips or having her suck the chocolate from my thumb. Stupid. I’d only just met her. When I’d been younger, I would’ve screwed her and forgotten about her. Now that I was one of the three leaders, I didn’t have time to just mindlessly fuck my way through life.

Besides, she could still be a threat to us.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked as she had another one.

“I will. Don’t worry.” I opened the wine and poured her a healthy amount. I gave myself the same.

She tapped her glass to mine. “Cheers.”

“To making new friends,” I said.

“To being honest with new friends,” she countered.

“Cheers.” I swallowed a single gulp, while she downed several more.

“You okay?”

“Still peachy.” She bit into her strawberry. “Or strawberry-y?” She giggled.

“Ah. A light weight,” I teased.

“I think I lost a lot of blood,” she whispered, leaning closer as if sharing a secret.

“During the attack?”

She nodded.

“Drink up.”

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You want me to drink so I’ll tell you more.”

“That’s a terrible accusation,” I protested.

“Is it?” she countered. “What happened to toasting to being honest?”

“The fact remains that is a terrible accusation, whether or not it’s true.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Touche.”

“Sometimes, drinking can help to soothe a person after a traumatic event. I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t there. You’d have to fill me in.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“Fine.” I drank another gulp. “I’m Miguel Ramirez Lopez.”

She smirked. “Audrey.”

“Got a surname, Audrey? Or should I just call you Audrey Chica?”

“Go ahead and call me that,” she said. “I won’t answer.”

“Hmm.” I took a strawberry and dipped it into the melted chocolate. The top layer was beginning to cool already, so I had to use some force to get to the gooey chocolate beneath.

“Not bad, huh?” she asked.

“Not bad at all,” I agreed.

We talked about nothing important, eating and drinking. I kept pace with her. By the time we finished the bottle, she was side-eyeing me.

“Do you have a dragon tattoo too?” she blurted out.

“Are you drunk?” I asked, suppressing a laugh.

“No…”

“Why does that not sound convincing?”

“If you want me to talk, you’re gonna have to talk too,” she said stubbornly. “Do you?”

I yanked off my shirt, threw it onto the floor, and flexed. On my right shoulder was a dragon identical to Francesco’s on his left shoulder and to the massive one on Damon’s chest.

“Why do you and the other guy have dragons on you?” she asked curiously.

“Why not? Dragons are amazing, aren’t they? Majestic creatures.” I winked. “Handsome creatures.”

The last few times I winked at her, she had laughed or smiled in return. This time, her frown deepened.

“I was attacked,” she said slowly.

“By?”

“A winged creature. A huge one. It breathed fire.” She exhaled loudly. “A dragon. I was attacked by a dragon, and there was a second one, and you and the other guy have dragon tattoos, and that can’t be a coincidence.”

“Life can be full of coincidences,” I protested.

She shook her head. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“Huh. So you were always supposed to have chocolate-covered strawberries with me.”

“You should’ve added some peanut butter to it,” she said. Her green eyes lit up. “Chunky peanut butter.”

“Next time.”

Her eyebrows rose again. “You really think there will be a next time?”

“Why not? Haven’t we been having fun?”

“Hmm. I think you’re trying to deflect and avoid answering questions again.”

“Who, me? Never.” I shook my head emphatically.

She giggled. “Yes, you.”

“If you want to wait until the morning to talk about what happened to you…” I offered.

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to hear it now?”

“There’s more than the supposed dragon attacking you?”

She exhaled through her nose. “It was a dragon. I know what I saw. There were two of them. And… you want to know the crazy part?”

“Shoot.”

Audrey leaned forward. “There were two other guys in here earlier. I swear one of them had the eyes of the dragon.”

“Which dragon?” I asked, doing my part to play it cool.

“Not the one that attacked me. The one that attacked the first dragon.”

She touched her side. “I was bleeding. Hurt badly. I think I had crushed or bruised or broken ribs. Maybe a punctured lung. So much blood loss… But I’m healed. It’s so weird. It’s as if…”

“As if what?”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked.

“Now who is trying to change the subject?”

“Are dragons real?” she challenged.

Well, shit. How could I answer that?