“Can I get the next round for you?”

Liam Steel looked with odd curiosity at the sound of a woman’s voice as she took the stool next to him at the bar.

All around him, noises of glasses clinking and people talking created a dull roar that filled the room. Behind him, his two crew mates, Magnus and Titus, practically filled the booth they sat in.

Titus was ignoring furtive glances from a group of women at a nearby table and Magnus was busy disassembling his smartphone for the umpteenth time.

Liam took in the scent of the woman as she scooted ever-so-closer, just enough for her body to graze his. But as attractive as she probably was, with long, straight hair and full, red lips, Liam didn’t feel much except slight annoyance.

Undeterred by his response, or lack thereof, the woman put several bills on the bar in front of him.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having. And get another for my friend here,” she said, her perky voice an odd contrast with the sounds of late-night drunkenness.

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly. A woman buying a man his drink? Ridiculous.

What had the world come to since he and his crew had been frozen at the bottom of the sea?

With a thump that shook the wood of the bar, Liam plopped his hand down on the money in front of them and pushed it back in front of the woman, who looked up in surprise. Even though he didn’t want to hear her thoughts, he could certainly feel disappointment coming from her at his not-so-subtle rejection.

“Don’t bother. I’m not looking for company.”

“Come on. Big, strong guy like you, sitting alone in a bar like this. Don’t tell me you just came here to drink,” she said, smiling through the dismissal as she put an arm around his and ran her hand appreciatively up his muscles.

“That’s exactly why I came here,” Liam replied nonchalantly. The more she touched him, the more he was certain.

This woman was not his mate.

And after months of searching, he was becoming increasingly skeptical of the possibility he and his crew would indeed find their mates as hoped.

When Liam didn’t respond to the woman’s pouty look, she got the hint and slid off the stool. But he couldn’t help but notice the one last, long glance she gave over her shoulder, accompanied by a sigh of apparent lust or longing, before she found a new seat by herself at the opposite end of the bar.

That was mean, Liam could hear Magnus’s voice in his head, eager and inquisitive as always. Why not give her a chance?

Unlike modern dragons, who could share thoughts for the most part only when they were together, Liam and his crew mates shared an almost inseparable mental connection that could span long distances.

Why do you think? Liam replied.

He’d learned pretty quickly that if you didn’t make your point strong and quick, women got ideas. And he wasn’t here to lead people on.

He was here to find his mate.

Just because she’s not your mate doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun, Magnus replied.

Oh really? Then why don’t you go talk to her or any other women instead of playing doctor on that damn phone of yours?

Magnus’s silence said everything.

He went back to fiddling with his phone, pale, light green-blue eyes focused, dark reddish-brown, shoulder-length hair tied back low with a few strands escaping around his face.

Titus sat next to him, his wheat-blond hair trailing down is back in a long braid. His firm jaw was shaded with stubble, his expression somber as he stared down at his drink.

No one was saying it, but his crew was losing hope.

No one knew how long they’d been locked in ice before the oracle had found and revived them. But Liam knew for sure that neither time nor space had diminished their longing to find their fated companions.

Do you actually think they’re out there? Titus’s deep voice resounded in Liam’s mind as icy blue eyes met his.

Our mates? Liam replied.

Yes. Our mates.

Liam tried to think of a meaningful response. Something inspiring that would raise the spirits of his crew. But before he could, a disturbance at the bar broke his focus.

“No,” said a familiar voice to his right.

Liam turned to see the woman from earlier no longer by herself, a man standing next to her. His glazed eyes were drunk and mean, and the little blonde clearly didn’t want whatever he offered.

“You asked that other guy out and he said no already. So I think you should give me a chance,” the drunken man said, speech slurred. His unkempt hair didn’t add to his appeal. The bartender brought up another round for Liam, but he hardly even noticed; he was so focused.

“No, because I’m not interested, you creep,” she said, waving the man away and turning back to ignore him.

Captain? That was Titus, leaning forward, icy eyes narrowed. Despite his giant size, Titus was often the gentlest and keenly aware of things like this.

Suddenly, the man grabbed the woman’s wrist and yanked it backward, pulling her to him.

“Now look here, you little slut—”

Liam didn’t even hear the rest of his words as he pushed off the bar and cleared the distance between himself and the woman in two steps.

“Hey,” Liam said forcefully, loud enough to get the man’s attention, but hopefully not loud enough to make a scene.

“What do you wa—” the man started to say, turning to face Liam, before being interrupted by Liam’s fist driving into his face like a hammer on steel.

The man flew backward, ricocheting off the bar and into a pile of stools and splintered wood.

Just because Liam wasn’t interested in the woman didn’t mean he was going to sit idly by while other men took liberties they had no right to take.

Nice one, Captain, Magnus thought.

But as Liam turned to go back to his drink, hopeful no one was paying attention, he saw a group of men get up from a nearby table and approach him, cracking their knuckles and rolling up shirt sleeves.

Company. Shit, Liam thought.

“Hey, he was just asking her out,” one man said, clearly a friend of the creep who had just been dished a deserved beat down.

“He wasn’t hurting anybody,” another blurted out as they circled around Liam.

Despite being various degrees of drunk and smelly, the men were all on the large side and certainly would have been an intimidating sight for any normal human. But dragons, especially the metal dragons, were made for fighting.

This would be child’s play.

Want a hand? Titus asked.

What he really means is ‘can I come, too?’ Magnus clarified with a grin.

No, I’ve got it, Liam said.

The first man came at him without warning, swinging a meaty fist at Liam’s face. Liam stepped effortlessly to the side, then grabbed the man by the back of his head and slammed it into the bar, making the mugs and glasses jump and rattle from the impact before the man slumped onto the ground.

Two more came at him, one grabbing a nearby beer bottle and breaking it to create a makeshift weapon as they charged.

Glass. How pathetic.

Liam just kicked the first in the gut as he came forward, sending him flying back into the table they had come from and upturning it. The second, with the broken bottle in his hand, he grabbed by the wrist, then punched him hard in the nose. With a loud crack, the man tripped backward, then crumpled onto the ground as he held his face.

But as the rest of them all lurched forward in unison, Liam became vaguely aware of a thin, green mist in the air, filling the room like tinted cigarette smoke as he punched faces and crushed bar furniture on the attackers. And with that came an odd sensation at the back of his neck, tingling like a bug crawling on skin, a sixth-sense sort of insight into something ominous and nearby.

“Everyone stop!” a man’s voice shouted into the room, commanding and incredibly pissed off.

All at once, everything stopped, as if the entire world had been frozen in time. Liam’s muscles all froze, his fist mere inches from a guy’s cheekbone.

Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Raised glasses poured their contents all over their unmoving, non-drinking owners. Everyone stayed in place, unable to speak or shift even slightly.

And out of the corner of Liam’s eye, he saw a tall, blond man come through the door to the bar, striding like a pompous asshole and glaring furiously with piercing green eyes.

Dammit, the emerald dragon had found them.

The fun was over.

* * *

Aegis, the emerald dragon, cursed the day he’d agreed to take this assignment and watch over the metal dragons as they adjusted to society.

He paced angrily in his office, fuming with rage, and stopped only when he heard a loud knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said sharply, ready to punch whoever came through the door first.

Especially if it was Liam.

Aegis should never have had to track the metal dragons down, only to find their leader brawling like a maniac with a group of human men.

Magnus had tried to explain their captain had only been doing it to protect a woman being harangued by some drunkard, but that didn’t change the fact that Aegis had needed to use his powers to stop the fight and later erase everyone’s memories of the occurrence.

Which he wouldn’t have had to do if they hadn’t been there in the first place.

The door opened and the citrine dragon, with his long brown hair, champagne-colored eyes, and infuriatingly calm demeanor, walked in, taking a seat by the door.

A second later, Aegis’s mate, the opal dragon, with her long black hair and shimmering beauty, glided in after him.

Aegis felt his blood pressure drop a few degrees, if only for the sake of not throwing a temper tantrum in front of his wife.

“You know, you’ve got to stop erasing people’s memories like that,” Citrine said coolly, as if commenting on the weather. “It’s dangerous.”

“What did you expect me to do? The metal dragons were acting like Neanderthals again.” Aegis fumed, pacing again.

Opal, who had made herself comfortable in the oversized leather chair at the head of Aegis’s desk, just watched him, both concern and amusement in her gaze as he walked in circles.

“Aegis, you’ve got to stop worrying so much,” she said, the sound of her voice more soothing than any earthly food or drink.

“Worried? Ha, I’m not worried. I’m angry. Angry with these miscreant dragons. Angry with the oracle for putting me up to this charade. Angry that we haven’t been able to make progress on the mission we’ve been given.”

At that, Opal stood and took one of his hands in both of hers, her soft skin sending calm surging through him.

“You can’t control everything, you know,” she said with a light giggle, the sound charming and a strong reminder of just how lucky he was to have her.

“Yes, I can. And I will,” Aegis insisted.

“Very well. But in the meantime, have a seat.”

At her command, Aegis plopped himself into a chair, and Opal took another seat beside him.

“Have there been any updates from the oracle lately?” he asked.

“None,” Citrine said flatly. “She’s still dealing with things on Pride Island. And with the gem dragons working closely with the regional dragon teams and local shifter groups, things are pretty quiet out here right now.”

“Which means all we have to worry about is finding mates for the metal dragons,” Opal added.

Aegis was starting to lose hope. The Oracle had trusted Liam and his crew so much that she hadn’t even collared them as she had Aegis and his counterparts. And at first, they’d tried letting the crew have total freedom. But one too many incidents had occurred, so Aegis ordered they be sequestered at the castle.

But there had to be some way to help the damn dragons find their mates so they would aid humanity in the fight against evil. Some way without endangering humans and without revealing their identities as dragons.

Reading his mind, Opal offered a suggestion. “How about using a dating service?”

“Too risky. We can’t have their faces and information online somewhere public,” Aegis replied, thinking it out.

“How about setting them up as chaperones for hire or something?”

“Liam and his crew as male escorts? Kill me now,” Aegis said, tasting bile at the back of his throat.

“Well, what are they good at?” Citrine chimed in, always the one to answer a question with another question.

He hated when Citrine did that.

For a moment, they all sat in silence.

“You know, they are pretty good with their hands,” Opal said, snapping her fingers. “Since they’ve moved into this old place, it’s been in better shape than ever.”

Aegis thought about it. Despite the fact that their intermittent brawls with each other had torn the mansion to shreds, the metal dragons had indeed set about fixing the place up since they had come to live with them. There wasn’t a pipe, gasket, heater, or fitting that hadn’t been improved or replaced.

At first, Aegis had just thought it was boredom. But the more he’d seen it, the more he’d realized the metal dragons, particularly Magnus, were just naturally good at figuring out how things worked and fixing them.

Whereas Aegis didn’t even care to know how to change a damn light bulb.

He had more important things to do.

“Are you suggesting we hire them out as handymen?” Aegis said, the idea taking root in spite of his reservations.

Citrine nodded. “They can work locally, hire out for odd jobs. It will keep them busy, and if we’re lucky, they’ll run into their mates out there.”

As much as Aegis hated to agree with it, the idea was sound. If he’d learned anything during his crazy escapades with the gem dragons, it was that fate came to you, not the other way around. Trying to force it didn’t help anything.

“How do you suppose we do this?” Aegis said, annoyed that Citrine had clearly already been thinking about this but only now brought it up.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already registered an LLC and an online domain name. I can have a website up by the end of the week, and I’ll just set myself up as the primary contact for the company so you don’t get interrupted when you’re busy.”

Aegis felt a muscle tick in his jaw. “Do I dare ask what name you settled on?”

“Rent-A-Dragon,” Citrine replied, looking smug.

Aegis sighed. “Heaven help us.”

“It’ll be okay,” Opal said, reassuring him.

He hoped she was right, for all of their sakes.