Chapter 1

Layla opened her eyes to the bright sunlight. It took her a few seconds to realize that she wasn't home and that her head was pounding like someone was standing on her with an oil derrick using it to hit some place in her head. Sitting up more, she told herself that she knew it was supposed to be a jackhammer, but that didn't seem enough for the way she was—

"How are you feeling today, Layla?" The woman sitting in the chair smiled at her. But for some reason, Layla had it in her head that she wasn't normally so nice. The laughter startled her. "No. I'm about as caustic as you can be. My name is Storm Walsh. While I know your name, Layla Marks, there is a great deal about you that has impressed me. And I'll tell you something, I'm not normally impressed by people. Did you know that you're not wholly human?"

"Yes. A friend of mine told me once when…you know what, it's none of your fucking business. Why are you in here? Wait. That man, the one that was…he saved me from being killed when someone shot up my home. He didn't like it any more than I did when the attorneys… There's more to it than that, but again, it's none of your business. He's related to you." Storm asked how she knew that he was her son. "I didn't know that he was your son. But you should know that he's a fucking prick. You should know, too, that you failed miserably at teaching him any manners. As in, he has none at all." She thought about what she'd said. "I'm sorry for that comment. For all I know he was sick the day that you were teaching them manners. Sometimes, my mouth speaks before the brain has time to sort it out. Back to your question. How did I know? Well, he has your coloring, and the hair is just as curly, too. And you're both dragons." Layla had a feeling that she'd been taken aback by her comment. Which one, she didn't know. But if it was about them being dragons, well, Christ, she should know that she is one.

"Yes, he's my son. Madison Walsh. I have six sons. I'm beginning to see that I had failed him and his brothers in that department. But no matter. You're here now, and that will help all of them along." Layla felt like the other woman was talking in circles. Tossing the cover off her legs she stood up but held onto the bed. "You're smart for holding onto something for support. Although I was looking forward to helping you off your face and back in bed." Layla looked at the woman before speaking.

"Look, while I'm sure that you're not a nice person to be around, I'm straight. Nothing is going to happen between us. I like my sex, like my coffee. I don't drink that nasty shit, and I don't need a lover. I have all the toys I want to make myself relax, thank you very much. I have nothing against you nor how you roll, but it's not going to go anywhere between us. If that's what you're thinking—"

The woman burst out laughing. It was a good laugh, she'd admit that, but she didn't understand it any more than why she'd been— She remembered something else that had happened the day she'd been shot at.

"The money from my long lost relatives. Again, your son. He told me it was about forty million. What's the date?" Storm told her. "Oh well, that shit's been taken care of, I guess. Anyway. Thanks for stopping by on your way to whatever you were going. But I have shit that I have to do. If I've been down for two days, then I'm really behind."

"You and my daughter-in-law are going to be the perfect for this family. And I wasn't hitting on you. I was merely thinking that I'd like to be able to tell you that you need to hold onto something when you get up. Bravo to you for being smarter than most people I know." Storm was still laughing as she made her way to the bathroom. Forgetting her clothing, she was pissed that it wasn't under the bed where she usually put it for a patient. "I believe you're looking for your clothing. It's in that little closet over by the bed. However, you should know that it's covered in blood, your blood, as a matter of fact."

"Won't be the first time I've been covered in something nasty. Nor the last, I'm thinking. I've been shit on—usually figuratively and actually shit on. Puked on, bled on, and whatever else you can think of, I've been there." Picking up the phone, she waited for someone to answer. When they did, Margaret answered her. "I need some scrubs, Margaret. Can you maybe find me some? Thanks if you can do it for me."

"Of course. Are you leaving us? My goodness, I was looking forward to giving you a sponge bath in the morning and getting to see that tiny tight butt of yours." They both laughed. And while she wasn't sure of Storm's intention toward her, she knew that Margaret didn't like any gender. "I don't think anyone is going to be happy that you've left honey, but I'll help you escape."

Her change of clothing was brought to her within a few minutes. Going to the bathroom now, her head was feeling like several derricks were in her head. Pounding away until they hit brain matter. Or her feet. She didn't care, but getting out of here was a priority.

Dressing in the clothing was easy. She didn't have any panties or a bra, but the scrubs were too big for her anyway. Not having a good meal in a while, she knew that she had lost weight that she could ill afford. When she came out of the bathroom, the gown she'd had on wadded up and thrown to the floor in the little room, she was startled to see a replica of the man who had saved her. Layla turned to Storm when the man snorted.

"Do you have a printer for your kids? I mean, how the hell did you tell them apart when they were born? Number them? Never mind. I'm going to go home." The man, she'd not caught his name, said that she wasn't. "Oh? And who's going to stop me? You? Not fucking likely. You may think that I'm small, but I'm quick and agile, not to mention fucking pissed off. Move, or I'll move you."

He laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. When she got to him, still blocking the doorway, she grabbed his head, jerked him forward onto her knee that she'd raised just for him, and flipped him onto his ass behind her. She was out the door as soon as she heard the chair break.

The first thing that she did was go to the buriers office. She had never been in the hospital for anything other than work but she needed to get the bill taken care of first thing. She hated owning people, and that meant to her that she was indebted to them, even for emergencies like this one. Layla heard a noise behind her and rolled her eyes when Storm was standing in the doorway.

"Don't you have shit to do? Fighting with Godzilla or something? I'm sure that you have some houses that are in your way of devouring a herd of cows or something." She said that she was keeping her safe. "I can take care of myself, as you witnessed with your son." She turned and looked at her. Then, at Linda when she cleared her throat.

"Your bill has been paid in full." Layla started to ask who had done it, but she was reasonably sure that it had been the first dick head or this woman. Looking at Storm again, she said that it hadn't been her. "What do you want me to do, honey?"

"How did he pay it?" She told her that he'd given them cash. "Of course he did. Give me the balance, Linda, and I'll give a check to his mom. I don't want to be beholden to anyone. Especially the Walsh family."

After writing the check out to Madison Walsh, she handed the check to his mom. She told her that he was going to be pissed. Layla asked her if she thought that she was having a walk in the park or something.

"No. No, I don't. I don't know which one of you or Madison is more up—pissed off, but I'd have to say that I'm going to love watching the two of you work things out." She told her that she wasn't going to be working anything out with the arrogant prick. They left the office, and Layla made her way to the door to leave. "You do realize that this is my son that you're talking about, correct? How did you know that I was a dragon? Madison said you were freaked out about his wings. I would think you'd understand that we'd have to have them."

"I had just been bombarded with six or seven attorneys telling me that I had done one of those DNA tests, and that was how they'd found me. Something about a grandma, I think he said, and a sister." Storm asked her why they hadn't contacted her. "That's what I asked. Something about not disrupting my life. Whatever. Not that it matters now. I missed the deadline for getting it, and now the grubby fuckers are going to get it all. I'm sure they'll use it to buy a second yacht or something equally outrageous with the money."

They were both standing in the sunshine, and the glare of the sun hurt her head more. Storm asked her if she needed anything. Did she? Probably. But she told her no and made her way to her house. Detouring a little bit, she made her way to a hotel. She wanted to be pampered. Just as she was checking in, thrilled that someone had picked up her backpack when she'd been hurt, a faerie landed on her hand.

"He cannot see me, mistress." Nodding, she smiled at the man. It wasn't his fault that she was in such a shitty mood. "I shall stand at your ear and speak with you. All you need to do is think Marlon Brando, and you'll be able to speak to me through our link."

She wondered if he knew who Marlon Brando was. Since he'd said it to her as if his name was all one word, she didn't think so. But when he fluttered, dropping faerie sparkles all over her scrubs, she had a thought that her head was going to be hurting for a very long time. Then suddenly it wasn't.

"What did you do?" He told her that he had the magic to heal her when she was hurting. "I don't wish to hurt your feelings but don't do that again. I don't know what you'll expect from me in return for doing it, but don't heal me unless you ask first. All right?"

"Yes, mistress. I would like to ask you now, but I fear it's too late but I have made it so that any place you go that has cameras will not be able to make you out, thus making it harder for you to be found. Not even the queen herself could find you now." She started to ask him why he'd do that, and it occurred to her that he meant the Walsh family. "I've made accommodations for you in your room. There is clothing and food there for you. Should you wish it. Again, I should have asked. I am sorry, Mistress."

"It's Layla, not mistress. And yes, you should always ask me before you do anything for me. I'm not mad, I'm not, but by you giving me my clothing and food, the staff here won't be making anything from my visit. It more than likely isn't all that much in the grand scheme of things here, but everything you do for me with your magic affects everyone that I come in contact with. Sometimes, even people I don't know could be affected. Understand?"

"Yes. I believe that Lady Amy said that was the tickle me down theory." She didn't correct him. She just couldn't. From now on, that's what she was going to call it. The tickle me down theory. "I shall do as you ask, my lady."

She was too exhausted to correct him again about her name. Getting into the shower, she let the hottest water that she could stand roll over her. When she'd finally had enough, Layla dried off and then wrapped the largest towel she'd ever seen around her body. Looking at the clock, she figured that she had just enough time to actually dry her hair for once.

Picking up her cell phone to make a call to her boss, she hoped that he'd still be in his office. David Sheppard had been her friend and mentor since she'd first graduated from college when she'd been a nurse. Now, she was a doctor with a doctorate in medicine. He answered just as she was ready to give up.

"I noticed that you left the hospital a few hours ago. I thought you'd call me before now, young lady. How are you feeling?" She told him of the headache that she'd had, but it was better now. "Good. That's wonderful news. When are you expecting to come back to work? I miss your sweet disposition." She scoffed at him.

"I'm no more sweet than you are when you're teaching classes. But I was thinking that I could come in tonight and work." He told her that it was much too soon for what had happened to her. "Yes, but we both know that I'm nearly healed up and now that my headache is gone, I don't feel any effects at all about what happened."

David was a lion, so he knew that she wasn't human. What she was, he didn't know, but he was still her good friend and kept her secrets as she did his. There were few people in the world that she would trust, but he was her friend. More than likely her only friend.

After getting the okay to work her shift tonight as the attending physician on duty in the emergency room, she laid down on the big bed and willed herself to sleep. As usual for her, she was asleep in a few minutes.

~*~

Madison was so pissed off that he made his way to his home so he'd not piss anyone else off with his anger. How dare she leave the hospital without him allowing her to. Christ, she was going to be a handful, and they'd only known each other for a few days. Well, he thought to himself, she can rot in hell for all he cared right now.

Glaring at the check from the woman that his mother forbad him to tear up, he couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do now. Wasn't one of the laws—a more stupid one that he'd heard of—that he was supposed to make sure that she was taken care of?

He knew that when Fowler had met his mate, and he loved Amy, sometimes more than he did his brother, the sap. But Fowler had thought that Amy was going to be spending all his money.

Madison took care of that problem by opening her up a checking account that would give her a limited amount that she could get to. Even her credit cards, to only a select few of the ones that he had, were there for her to use. He wasn't stupid enough to think that she'd not been craving for some person to come along and be her sugar daddy.

While in his mind, that didn't make sense to him, he still wanted to watch that she didn't drain his accounts or charge up a great deal of money that he'd have to pay off. With that thought came the idea that she'd want a house. He'd give her one, just for herself, because there wasn't any way that he was going to be living with the woman. She was dangerous.

Pulling out his laptop, he found a website for one of the many local real estate businesses in town. There were a few, about five, but his family had been using Hometown Realty for a long time. So that was where he went to see houses.

Madison didn't have any idea what he should be looking for, but he had an idea if he went too small, she'd be pissed off more. Growling a little to himself, Madison clicked on the tab that had larger homes instead of the small bedrooms that he'd first started out looking at.

His mind kept wandering to her again. Next to his computer, there was the envelope that he'd picked up the first morning that the woman had been in the hospital. He'd gone to the courthouse after talking to his mom to file the paperwork for him to be able to claim that woman as his wife. He was easily able to convince the courts that he could pick up her fortune because of who he was to Layla. Or what he was supposed to be to her. That had been a nightmare for him.

It was as if, after having the information filed, every person in the town knew that he'd gotten married—at least on paper. Christ, he'd ever been so glad to get away from everyone as he'd been then. The problem was, they didn't just bombard him when he was out. He'd had to turn off his phone so that he'd get some peace. Everyone who knew him, even out-of-state people, was telling him congratulations rather than just to leave him alone.

He found two houses that he liked. Not figuring out what she would like, he clicked on the two biggest homes and told the realtor to get back with him on specs as well as anything else that she could get for him.

Closing down the computer, he decided that he'd done enough for the day and spread out on his couch. Hearing his phone ring on his desk, having forgotten to pick it up again when he'd finished, he closed his eyes to shut out the sounds, very little as it turned out that would make him not be able to sleep. Then, there was the small but persistent nudge to his mind. Mentally rolling his eyes, he asked what they wanted, snarling out the words to whoever dared to pester him.

"You will not speak to me that way. I'm still your mother, and I won't hesitate a second to tear into your ass as it's been pointed out to me recently like I should have done to the lot of you as children." He jerked himself upright on the couch and straightened up his clothing. While he knew that she couldn't see him—or at least he was reasonably sure she couldn't, he wanted to look his best when talking to his mom. "When was the last time you saw Layla? I've been looking for her for the past hour. You do know that she left the hospital. Don't you remember me telling you that?"

"I remember. And if she wishes to get herself dead because she's not healing fast enough, then I don't know what you want me to do about it. Other than to keep her here tied to the furniture. While that does sound a little tempting, I don't want her anywhere near me." She told him to behave. "I've done nothing wrong, mother. And if it makes you feel any better about me, I have looked for a house for her. One large enough that it would satisfy her needs to try and drain me dry." His mom didn't speak for several seconds, and it had him second-guessing everything that he'd said to her. Again, he didn't feel as if he'd done anything wrong.

"I see. Why is it that you think she'd want or need your money, Madison James Walsh? It could be that she might have money to live the life that she wants without your interference." He told her that it would suit him just fine if she didn't want him to interfere.

"It's been pointed out to me that I fucked up royally with my kids. I guess I did do a piss poor job of making my sons treat their other halves better, haven't I?"

When the connection closed, more like it had been severed, he sat there on the couch thinking about what his mother was doing, second-guessing herself about the way she'd raised them. They were perfectly good men, and because of the way—Madison wondered if it was Layla who had said that to her, and now she was upset with herself.

Now, too angry again to do any napping, he got up and found that he'd heard from the realtor already. She'd sent him four files that he could go through at his leisure. It wasn't until that moment that he realized just how late it was. Pissed off more, he slammed his computer down, wondering why someone, Ms. Jefferson was up at four in the morning answering e-mails from him.

Striding to his bedroom, he ripped off his clothing, tearing the zipper out of his pants, thinking of taking a shower. But the water wasn't coming out the way that it should have been. Trying the other faucets in the apartment, he realized that he was indeed without water. Reaching for his phone, he leaped back from it when it rang just then.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked whomever it was who they were. "Layla. I'm trying to work here, and you being pissed off at everyone you think about is keeping me from working well at my job."

"How do you know that it's me making you bad at your job? Maybe you were never good at it in the first place." He knew that was cruel of him to say, but before he could take it back, even if that was what he had been planning to do, she spoke to him.

"You're right. How stupid of me to think that it's something to do with you that I've had to pause several times at my job when you were having a temper tantrum. I shall, from this day forward, not contact you at all." He said she was being childish. "Am I? Who is pissed off because his mother took him to task? Or that you've had your nap interrupted? Poor baby. Did you want me to send you a binky? Do you have a favorite blankie that you can't find?" The pause was just enough for him to get his anger ready to lash out at her, but she spoke again. "Grow up, you arrogant ass hole. The world does not move to your satisfaction. I'm working here instead of whining about how others are treating me."

He felt like the connection, this time with a phone, had been severed. This time, too, like the first time, he thought that it wasn't his fault that he was angry. Madison wondered what she was doing in her so called job. It certainly could be that much of a job by the way that she lived.

The place that she lived in was hardly much more than a couple of rooms with windows. The furniture, too, wasn't all that much if he remembered correctly. When he landed atop her, he could still feel her breasts as they were—it occurred to him that, at some point, he'd gotten off track. That was her fault, too.

Gathering up his files after printing them off for himself, Madison was determined that he wasn't going to think about anyone for the rest of the day. Mother fuckers, all of them. Getting into his car, never one to purchase himself a new vehicle unless his current car was broken beyond repair, he drove to the first of the four houses that he'd been given. The two that he'd found and another two that she had sent him.

Madison didn't bother pulling all the way into the first house. It was too dark. The sun was fully up now, and it still looked like the house was something from a horror movie. But then he thought it would suit that woman to a tee.

The next two houses he decided were much too small for her. She would want bigger. And other than going to his brother's house and asking him to move out of his, he did hope that the last one would do for her. He'd wasted enough time on this job, and he had more important things to do.

As it so happened, there was an open house going on at the house. He'd never been to one of them, but he'd read about them on line. The house, this one, as a matter of fact, would be spruced up just to have some sucker pay too much for the place because it looked nice. He knew better than to fall for that trick.

Getting out of his car, he ambled his way around the place. The yard was massive. There was a large fenced off area in the back where he could see a bunch of kids having fun. The pool was covered up but lifting one corner of the cover up, he could see that it was a large underground one. Even when he was inspecting the filtration system as well as the outside spigots, Madison thought perhaps he'd found himself a good home. He knew that he'd been looking for someplace to get Layla out of his way, but the more he looked around, the more in love with it he fell.

Entering the front door, he was impressed with the wooden grand staircase that was in front of him. Also the beautiful tiled floors that led right up to them. To his left, there was an expansive library. A large couch was there as well. He thought it was called a fainting couch and had to immediately turn away, seeing Layla draped over the thing for him.

To the right, he saw that it was a sitting room. Going into the room, he was annoyed that there were other people walking around his house. There were floor to ceiling doors that were opened to the nice weather they were having. A garden area was just out of the room, making the entire room look twice as large. He could almost see a Christmas tree in the corner of one of the doors with a dozen or so kids waiting for their wrapped presents.

"Mr. Walsh?" He turned, trying not to snarl at the woman who was speaking to him, and had to brace himself for whatever she might be telling him. "I'm Ms. Jefferson. I had hoped that you'd come by this house. It's a lovely home and suited to someone that has a great deal of things going on with their lives."

"How much? I won't pay any more for it than I think is a good price." She looked taken aback, but she kept the smile, a tight one now on her face. "Also, I won't be suckered into paying for a nice house and then finding out that it has everything under the sun wrong with it. I will not allow you or anyone to swindle me out of my money. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

When his head snapped back, he realized two things at once. He'd been slapped by a stranger, and she'd walked away from him without allowing him to tell her off. But when he looked around the room he was in, there were several people in the room with him, and two of them had their phones out. No doubt looking for something that would make them the next sensation. Whatever that might be.

Leaving, the house now spoiled for him, he made his way to the car. When it didn't start right away, he was within seconds of tossing the fucker into the nicely arranged flower bed next to where he'd parked.

Once it started, he made his way to the bank. He was going to buy the sucker now, and he didn't want to hear a thing about how he'd been mean to the woman. Christ, was everyone sensitive nowadays.

He decided that he needed to chill a bit before someone removed his head for him. Taking several deep breaths, he was reasonably sure that he could talk to the banker and not have to scream at anyone. Just as he was being called to the banker's office, he knew that someone had called the man about his justifiable behavior at the house. The man was about as short and nasty as the other woman had been when he was at the house.

"The house is for sale, yes, but we have other offers on it from the open house. I'm sorry, Mr. Walsh, but you'll have to bid on it as the others have been." He didn't think that he was the least bit sorry but didn't point it out to him. Right now, there is a bidding war on, so to speak, between three people, not including you. If you'd like to buy the house, you'll have to—"

"One million." The banker looked so startled that he was sure that he'd not expected that. "And if I need to go more, I will. I need…want that house."

"Obviously. I will, if you could wait a moment, call Liza and tell her that I have a bid for the home." He left him in the office as he went to make the call. There was a phone on his desk and Madison couldn't figure out why he had to be all secretive or something. Just as he was ready to get up and leave, he returned. "I've put in your bid, sir. I'm sorry to say, but the others are considering their options. I won't have an answer for you until the end of the day."

Nodding, he got up to leave. When the man, he had no idea what his name was, cleared his throat. It was then that he realized that the man was a lion shifter. Not that it bothered him all the much, but when he let a little of his beast go, Madison, even though he was a much larger dragon, had him taking several steps back. "If you ever talk to my wife like that again, I will rip your head off while you're down. Good day, sir."

With a quick glance at the name plate on the desk, he saw that he was dealing with Mr. Donald Jefferson. Leaving the room before he said something that might well lose his chances at the house, he left the office. Christ, oh mighty. Nothing was going his way.