Chapter 8

8

She watches.

Dracin almost looked back to see if Belle truly did stare at his ass. Did she like what she saw?

She’d certainly been blushing prettily when he’d been purposely obtuse with her requests. In his defense, her unexpected arrival had put him off kilter. He’d honestly thought he’d never see her again, then, bam, she showed up in his truck. How had she found it? He’d assumed the vampires disposed of it.

What did it say that she’d gone through the trouble of trying to locate him? For help, mind you, but still, she could have probably asked for aid from any number of people. Why him in particular? Had she missed him?

To his annoyance, he had missed her, and he hated the fact he’d already jerked off twice today thinking of her. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and now she wanted his muscle—sadly, not the muscle between his legs. She needed protection. Mostly likely from those fucking vampires. She’d better not be their next target, or else.

Eat them.

His dragon had the right idea. Still, he’d not lived under the radar by hunting blood suckers and getting involved in shit that didn’t concern him. He’d escaped. The other victims? Not his problem. However, he couldn’t deny he’d enjoy meeting up with Theodore and punching him until he had no teeth left.

Belle followed him inside, and it wasn’t until he poured the whiskey and handed her a glass that it hit him. The scent of her arousal. Holy fuck, the blushing was about more than the verbal play on words. The way she avoided looking at him? She liked what she saw.

It led to him not putting his shirt on. Playing dirty? Yup, and he was okay with it.

He’d never been more aware of the fact his antisocial nature left him with only one chair in the kitchen, which he offered to her while he stood leaning against the counter, sipping his drink. “So, what do you need my muscle for?”

Her cheeks turned pink, and the perfume of her lust almost had him hitting his knees begging for a taste.

“My superior has requested I find backup before confronting the remaining vampires in the Ottawa-based clan. Given the local witches aren’t at a level that can aid me, it was suggested I speak to a shifter. AKA one that has a vested interest perhaps in ensuring those responsible for his incarceration pay for their actions.”

“You want me to kick some ass.”

“More like support me while I handle the execution of the vampire in charge as well as retrieve any evidence that will satisfy the vampire council of their guilt and possibly lead to the recovery of other victims.”

He raised a brow. “Just that?”

She shrugged. “The latter parts are more for me to handle. You and whatever pack friends you choose to invite will be there more to ensure I’m not surprised in case there is more opposition than expected.”

“I don’t have a pack.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed, given you’re a shifter, that you would belong to one.”

“Nope. No real friends either.”

Her lips pursed. “That’s unfortunate. I guess I’ll have to contact the local Alpha and see if I can borrow—”

He cut her off. “You don’t need them. I’m worth ten of those furballs on a bad day.”

“Isn’t the F word considered derogatory?”

“Maybe to them.” He shrugged.

“But you’re one of them.”

It hit him then. She still had no idea what he was. She thought him some kind of mangy dog. Hell, he and his mom thought for the longest time he was the only one until he happened to encounter another dragon in the sky during one of his night flights. Excited to finally meet someone like him, he’d bugled a greeting. It resulted in the other dragon attacking him. He’d barely survived. As for the other dragon… the mangled body, back in its human shape, had no clues to offer. Hence why he’d stuck to his mother’s advice—Tell no one what you are. Stay away from the pack.

Belle waved a hand. “Doesn’t really matter what your animal is. I know you’re tough.”

Yes. I am. His dragon preened.

“Do you know where to find Theodore and the rest of his gang?” he asked, sipping his whiskey.

“No, but I have the resources to track him down.”

“Exactly who are you?” he asked, setting the glass down and heading for the fridge. He’d not had dinner yet, given he’d been splitting wood for the coming winter. His wood stove went through at least three cords per chilly season.

“Clarabelle Montgomery.”

“I know your name. I meant who, or what, are you? A witch, obviously, but you sound like you’re working for someone. You mentioned a boss.”

“I’m an attaché witch for the Colony Coven, which oversees all the witches and smaller covens in North America. I’m what you might call a problem solver. They send me to locations to handle delicate matters.”

“I’d hardly call the vampires and their trafficking delicate,” he stated, pulling out the butcher-paper-wrapped steaks. “You eat meat?” He held it up in question.

“Yes.” She cocked her head. “But not a large portion. And I’ll take a vegetable on the side if you have any.”

He chuckled. “Not many of those around here. I’m more of a carnivore, but I do have some rice.”

At her nod, he went and pulled out a flavored version that wouldn’t take long to cook. As he prepped the steaks, he had more questions. “Have you always been a witch, or is it something you go to school for?”

“In my case, I was always special, but I didn’t learn at a young age because my parents had no idea what was wrong with me. It was assumed I intentionally set fires and caused chaos because of my troubled nature.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Troubled by what?”

“By the fact I could light fires when angry and toss objects around, but no one believed me when I said I wasn’t actually doing it.”

“But you were.”

“I was, but at the time, I didn’t realize I had magic. To me, the spontaneous eruption of flames was terrifying.”

“So what happened?”

“I was institutionalized, and thankfully, one of the nurses on staff, a witch of modest power, recognized my ability and had me relocated.”

“In other words, a Harry Potter moment?”

Her low chuckle tightened his groin. “In a sense, although our school wasn’t anywhere close to as magical and wonderful. Although, given I had to sever contact with my family, my orphaned ass lived in some pretty crap places.”

“Didn’t any of the witches take you in?”

“In a perfect world, I’d have lived in a lovely Victorian, with a wise old woman who would impart knowledge as we stirred a cauldron together. The reality is nobody wanted to deal with a powerful teen witch with an unpredictable temper.”

“I get it. I went through a phase where my anger issues led to me not always being in control. But in my case, I had my mom to slap some sense into me.”

“She beat you?”

He rolled his shoulders. “Not in a mean way. Keep in mind, shifters are volatile by nature. Talking and stuff is all nice and good for humans. Their kids can’t shift and tear out the throats of those annoying them. So, yes, my mom smacked me when I was bad. When I got larger, she resorted to a solid wooden spoon.” He turned and couldn’t help but smile as he remembered, “When I got way taller than her, she used to stand on a chair to give me my rebuke.”

“And you let her?”

“She was my mom. I’d have never laid a finger on her.” He’d been crushed when she died. Almost took his own life in his grief because the loneliness had been so utterly devastating.

“I don’t remember my parents other than the fact they hated me. They were deeply religious and convinced I was a Satan-loving demon.”

“Ouch.”

“They weren’t entirely wrong. The Dark Lord is who I pray to.” Said matter-of-fact and he blinked.

“You worship Satan?”

“How do you think I got so powerful?”

He stared at her. “But you’re so cute.” The words spilled from him.

Her cheek dimpled when she smiled. “Ah yes, because Satan’s witches should be hideous.”

“I’ve seen the cartoons. You’re supposed to be green with a wart and hideous straw-like black hair.”

Her laugher froze him, mostly because he enjoyed it so much he forgot about his steaks on the stove. He whirled to quickly flip the steaks as she chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint. If it makes you feel better, I ride a broom. Which reminds me, where do you keep yours? I had to call a taxi last night because I couldn’t find one.”

“Just inside the basement door. There’s a mop, too, if you need one.” The inanity of the statement almost had him shaking his head.

“Excellent.”

“You don’t need to fly, though. I can drive you wherever you need to go, now that you’ve returned my truck.”

“Appreciated. I might take you up on the offer once we’re done plotting. I brought my computer so we could begin our search for the clan nest tonight.”

“Witches use computers?”

“Yes, and indoor plumbing. We use electric mixers instead of stirring cauldrons too. We’re quite modern you know.”

“Sorry. Guess I should keep my mouth shut.” He plated their steaks and the rice that had finished heating.

Once more he ran into a seating problem, seeing as how she had his only chair. So again he ate at the counter, standing.

She took a bite before remarking. “I didn’t know you could buy a kitchen set with just one seat.”

“Thrift store. I bought them separately.”

“You, thrift?” She blinked at him.

“I like bargain shopping,” he retorted a tad defensively.

“Oh, that wasn’t meant as an insult. I’m impressed. Especially since you have an eye for quality. This table and chair are solidly built and in great condition.”

“They weren’t when I got them. I stripped, stained, and varnished them.”

“A handy fellow.”

He shrugged. “Mom used to say idle hands got in trouble.”

“She’s not wrong. What do you do for work?”

“Nothing right now. The cabinet company that employed me fired me because I failed to show up or call in sick for a few days.”

“Guess you can’t exactly tell them a vampire kidnapped you.”

He almost spat out his steak. He swallowed and managed a gruff, “Not sure that would have gone over well. It’s fine. It wasn’t a great place anyhow. I’ll find something else to pay the bills.”

“You should think of doing handyman stuff.” She stoked the tabletop in a way that made him slightly jealous. “People pay good money for this kind of quality work.”

“Problem is dealing with people.”

Once more her laughter hit him hard. “Good point. And good dinner. I am stuffed.” She’d only eaten half of the steak he’d given her. Not one to waste, he jabbed it with his fork when he snared her plate. He chewed it as he started filling the sink with water.

“I don’t have dessert, I’m afraid,” he stated as he finished the hunk of meat.

“No sweet tooth?”

Not for sugar, but a certain witch… He turned from her and tossed the empty fork into the sink.

“Need a hand with those?” she offered.

“Nah. Won’t take me but a minute to do.” He set up the drying rack, seeing as how he actually had dishes to wash. He usually ate out of the pan. It seemed a good time to ask, “So how are you going to find the blood suckers?”

“The boring way. By accessing the archive of vampire clans and seeing if this Theodore has a posted address.”

“If he doesn’t?”

“Then wander the city street and hope I can lure one out of hiding so I can use them to scry for a location.”

“You are not dangling yourself as bait,” he growled.

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“Because you totally get a say,” her sassy response.

He whirled from the sink filling with water. “Because it’s a dumb risk. If you can’t locate them via mundane methods, then I’ll find them.”

“How? You going to wander around the city sniffing every alley?”

“If necessary.”

She stared at him a moment before nodding. “Very well. If you insist. Thank you for the offer.”

Her easy acquiescence had him narrowing his gaze. “You were fucking with me.”

Her lips curved. “If I were fucking with you, I’d be wearing less clothes.” With that, she rose and headed for his living room, dragging her oversized handbag with her.

Damn…

Want. His dragon stated.

Yeah, me, too, buddy. He washed the dishes while looking out his kitchen window. The dark yard didn’t have much. A scrubby patch of weeds, mostly dried and yellow with fall’s crisp nights. The woods at the far end, a shadowy haven for the small creatures that oddly weren’t bothered by his presence. The big predators though? They steered clear.

He’d just hung up his dish rag when the lights went out. All of the power died, leaving the house quiet.

And in that quiet, his dragon whispered, Intruder.