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Holden's Mate (Daddy Dragon Guardians) by Meg Ripley (88)

3

Jason stepped out into the garden behind the Club and drew in a breath of the heavily scented air, enjoying the combination of flowers, herbs and the green, earthy scent of the tremendous hedges that spread in a complex maze ahead of him. It was the smell of the earth, so rarely enjoyed in the heart of the city. A white stone path wound around hedges to sprawling flower gardens, an orchard next to the section of river captured within the tremendous walls of the grounds, and directly in front to the huge labyrinth that many of the members used as a sanctuary for quiet thought.

He needed that sanctuary now. He could already feel the change occurring within him. Sometimes, the shift happened very suddenly, but when he had the opportunity to control his emotions and guide his body through the often stressful transition, he could shift gradually, giving himself the chance to acclimate so he wouldn’t suffer.

His body began to grow, his bones rearranging their configuration as his skin darkened into a rich, shimmering green; the shade of a meadow in moonlight. He kicked off his shoes and curled his toes into the ground beneath him as his feet changed, tipping forward onto four lethally-sharp claws. The tension in his back became excruciating until his wings erupted from his skin, flaring into the evening air.

His eyes were sharper, his sense of smell keener, and his ears tuned to the most delicate shifts in the air. His wings fluttered and folded down along his back, his tail unfolding and stretching a good six feet beyond his body. He arched his back like a cat, stretching his tendons and gathering up a roar from deep in his stomach. His thunderous bellow echoed through the hedges, a greeting to the other dragons that were staggered throughout the garden.

By the time the shift was complete, Jason had meandered his way deeply into the maze. It was quiet there. Though this was a popular area, it seemed that no one else had decided to roam the wide passageways that night, but that was just as well for Jason. Though he didn't spend as much of his life in dragon form as many of his friends and family members did, when he was in this form it was a primal, almost peaceful experience that often helped him to work through emotions or feel more connected to those around him.

Tonight, as he walked the maze, Mr. Kelsey and Adventure Isle weighed heavily on his mind. His father had expressed surprise that Jason had no memory of Adventure Isle and Mr. Kelsey had greeted him like an old friend. A strange sense of melancholy swept over him, a bittersweet feeling he associated with memories of his mother. He actually had very few concrete images of her, most of them distant, muffled by time and trauma. Why did the park make him think of her? Did she take him there as a child? When he was given the account, all he could think about was the impact it might have on his aspirations for advancement. Now his promotion was a distant consideration compared to Mr. Kelsey's sincerely placed hope and his own curiosity.

Jason opened his wings slightly as he continued to walk, allowing the night air to swirl around them like soft, cooling ribbons. He often wished that he could stretch them fully and soar into the sky whenever he pleased. He had heard that there was a time when the dragons flew freely and many maintained their dragon form throughout their entire existence, some not even knowing that they could shift. Now, though, the dangers of being exposed were far too great, and the Club could only offer a very limited amount of freedom. He celebrated his graduation with a trip to New Mexico where he roamed the desert for a week, living, sleeping, eating as a dragon, swooping and soaring through an endless, open sky. He'd never known such freedom, before or since, and it stood out as the happiest moments of his life. He still dreamed about it often.

At the center of the maze, he found a series of large, interconnected pools, each illuminated from under the water with a different color of light. In the rapidly darkening evening, these lights glowed brightly, casting an ethereal atmosphere around the space. Dragons large and small relaxed at the water's edge, drinking from the shimmering pools while others glided through the water, moving from pool to pool, and color to color. Silver platters laden with fruit and meat caught his attention, reminding him that his last meal was nearly twenty-four hours earlier. But before he could claim a platter for himself, Vincent beckoned to him from the other side of the pool, gesturing at Jason to follow him away from the crowded baths into the silent, empty shadows at the far end of the maze. Once they found a quiet corner shielded from view, they shifted back to their human forms.

"I was hoping I'd run into you tonight. Did you find anyone to invest in the theme park?" Vincent asked.

"No. I met the owner last week and I've been working on a proposal but I don't have any investors lined up yet. I need to know what I'm going to say first."

"Isn't it easier to make a pitch if you know who you're pitching to?"

"Ideally, you want to know your audience. But it's going to take a special kind of investor. And I don't know who that is yet."

"How special are we talking?"

Jason sighed. "Very special. The park hasn't turned a profit in over a decade. Most of the rides should be scrapped. I don't know if the concession stands can pass a state inspection and it's going to take a whole lot of money just to get the place presentable."

"So, convince the old man to sell the land to a developer while he still can and retire. I'm sure he has a family that loves him and wants to spend his golden years with him."

"Trust me, that's not an option. But I'm not completely without hope. It's been there for over a hundred years, so it can be registered with the historical society."

"Ooh, that'll bring in the big bucks."

"Did you just want to bust my balls tonight?"

"No, actually. I think I might be able to help you out. I was recently in contact with an old client of mine and I think his interests are right in line with your current dilemma." Vincent slipped his right hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card, holding it out to Jason. Jason took it carefully, running his thumb over the embossed text. "Get in touch with this guy. I've known him for a while. He has more money than he knows what to do with and he's known for his whimsical investment choices."

"Whimsical investment choices?" Jason asked.

"The man is eccentric as hell and loves to throw his money at really strange projects. I can't guarantee that he'd want in on this, but he's probably your best bet right now."

"Thank you," Jason said, tucking the card into his pocket. "I really appreciate this, Vincent."