Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

I stared at the jade and gold object, dumbfounded. "A dragon egg? You mean there's a baby dragon in there?" I hesitantly touched the oval. It felt like jade, smooth and cool, but under my hand, it wobbled the tiniest bit.

"Yes, as you say, there is a baby dragon in there." Drake's expression told me he'd had to talk himself long and hard into bringing it to me, and now he was starting to regret his choice.

"But …" My mouth hung so far open it was drying out. I closed it. "It's encased in gold bands. How is the kid supposed to get out?"

"Female dragons always decorate their eggs. A hatchling dragon is plenty strong enough to break through gold wire."

"Wire studded with emeralds." I touched one, feeling its smooth facets. "What happens to those?"

Drake's mouth hardened. "It eats them, along with the rest of the shell. This is important, Janet. This egg needs to be guarded. Your hotel, with its wards against creatures of evil and other dragons, is the only stronghold around. I do not always agree with you, but you are powerful, and you can be … kindhearted."

It cost him much to admit that last adjective, I could see. I figured what Drake meant was that as badass magical as I could be, I wasn't looking to kill everyone around me and take over the world.

"Let's slow down a second." I leaned on my hands on the desk, unable to fully look away from the egg. Not only was it beautiful, but it fascinated me. "Why did you feel the need to leave the egg somewhere safe? Why can't a dragon look after it? Where is its mother?"

"The mother is dead," Drake said flatly. Pain flickered in his eyes. "I managed to get the egg away before anyone else discovered it."

This sounded less okay by the minute. "Dead?" I softened my voice, pity for the little dragon filling me. "Poor kid. Who was she? It wasn't Aine, was it?" I named the female member of the dragon council, who pretty much told all other dragons what to do. I hadn't heard that Aine had died, but I didn't keep up with dragon council business.

"No, not Aine." Drake's tone told me I was ignorant for even thinking such a thing. "Cesnialangus lived on a remote island, far out to sea. She preferred that. I don't know who killed her—I assume another dragon, but I don't know which one." This troubled him. "The egg was hidden, but I heard it calling."

"Okaay." I sensed nothing from the egg, and usually I was sensitive to auras. Drake's, for instance, fiery and worried, pressed around me. "So, you took it? "

"I had to search a long time before I found it. I unearthed it, yes, and took it away to be safe."

"And the dad?" I fixed Drake with my no-nonsense stare. "Was it you?"

"Possibly." Drake shook his head. "Possibly not. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that Bancroft never knows about this egg or gets his hands on it."

Possibly ? Oh, Drake. I'd expected him to vehemently deny it, but instead he stunned me with a possibly .

Part of my brain started fervently wondering about Drake's relationship with the egg's mom. The other part fixed on the name he'd just thrown out.

"Bancroft?" I asked. "You mean Bancroft of the dragon council, who would love to see me dead, or better still, never having existed? The one who recruited Mick to kill me and then put Mick on trial when Mick decided he liked me, instead? That Bancroft?"

"Yes." Drake's quick reply told me he was happy we were on the same page. "He cannot find this egg."

"Why not? Would he kill it?" The sort of mean thing Bancroft would do.

"No. He'd raise him, groom him. Brainwash him."

I knew it was difficult for Drake to admit that Bancroft was so ruthless. Drake had been the dragon council's toady for a long time, believing they could do no wrong, until he'd decided they didn't live up to his exacting standards and quit. Couldn't blame him—the Mighty Three, as Colby called them, were arrogant, spiteful, and dangerous.

"You mean make him the heir apparent," I said. "In Bancroft's image."

"Exactly." Drake seemed relieved I understood. "Bancroft would imprison him and try to mold him, which is the cruelest fate for a dragon. The small ones are quite impressionable. They bond with whomever they see when they hatch. It can't be Bancroft."

"You don't have to convince me of that," I said. "Hi, I'm Bancroft, your foster dad and complete bastard. Welcome to the dragon compound, where you'll be imprisoned for the rest of your life." I shuddered. "I'm with you so far. Does Bancroft know about the egg, and is he going to come crashing in here to take it away from me?"

"Bancroft … suspects … that this egg exists."

I sat down heavily. "So, he's looking for it."

"Yes. But he has no idea yet that it was taken from Cesnialangus's hoard."

I'd long ago given up trying to figure out the multisyllabic dragon names. They rolled off Drake's tongue—and his name was really Draconil … something—but most of the other dragons shortened them.

"Yet," I repeated. "When is he going to discover that it's gone?"

"I do not know. When he does, he will know I took it."

"Then you're in danger too," I said.

Drake regarded me calmly, as though a powerful and deadly dragon hunting him down was the least of his worries. "It does not matter. As long as he doesn't find the egg."

I drummed my fingers on the desk, my gaze pulled back to the soft sheen of jade. There had to be more behind this tale than Drake not wanting Bancroft to mold the new generation of dragons, but I knew Drake wouldn't tell me unless he thought I needed to know.

"So, you decided bring it to me," I stated.

Drake's eyes darkened. "I came because it will be safe here. You have wards to warn you of approaching dragons and other evils. Very strong earth magic, and yes, even Beneath magic to stave off attack. Ms. Bryson, your manager, is a powerful earth witch. Your friend the sheriff also possesses strange magics that could help."

"You are not easing my mind," I said. "In fact, you're implying that more people than Bancroft might want this egg."

Drake gave me a reluctant nod. "Dragons are at their most vulnerable when they are young. Creatures who fear them will try to kill them when they are weakest."

"Great." I did some more finger drumming, but the egg's smooth surface kept capturing my attention. "What will you do if I refuse?"

Drake went so silent that I had to look up at him again. "You cannot refuse," he said quietly. "Please, do not."

He didn't have a contingency plan, he meant. It was here or nowhere.

"You're giving me no choice?"

Drake's frown told me I confused him. "Of course you have a choice. This is a dangerous favor. But you have proved that not only are you strong, you are trustworthy."

"What?" My eyes widened. " Drake is saying I'm trustworthy?"

"You are." He sounded puzzled. "You have already proved this several times. You have had opportunities to join forces with evil beings in order to do great harm, and to become such an evil being yourself. Yet, you have not."

"My grandmother raised me well," I said lightly. I waved away my tussles with Beneath goddesses, massively powerful mages, and the undead, not to mention dragons themselves. "She'd lecture me if I destroyed the world, and let me tell you, my grandmother can lecture." I shuddered, which was unfeigned. My entire childhood had been me running from the sharp call of Janet!

"Your modesty is bewildering and unnecessary." Dragons were never modest. Drake probably couldn't wrap his brain around the concept. "You are the best person to help me. Only for a short while—I will return for it when it is safer. Will you?"

I should have said no. Sent him off, put the entire conversation out of my mind. Returned to my peaceful life of running a hotel full of loud, obnoxious human tourists and magical people who just wanted to lie low.

Agreeing to look after a dragon egg was the height of foolishness—how the hell was I supposed to take care of it? And what did I do if it hatched before Drake came back?

Inside the bowling bag, the egg rocked again. There was a dragon in there, vulnerable, too small and egg-bound to look after itself. Its choice was to be captured by Bancroft or hatch and find itself bonded to Drake.

A bit of warmth touched me, though I couldn't tell if it was the little dragon reaching out to me, my conscience kicking at me, or else the heating coming on to cut the chill of the March night.

No matter what, I found myself resting my hand on top of the bag, meeting Drake's dark dragon eyes, and agreeing.

Most people, when they left a kid with a babysitter, had a list of instructions for the child's care, numbers for who to call when there was a problem, and a sack full of accoutrements like food, toys, and a change of clothes.

Drake simply left the bag on the desk and walked out. When I trotted after him, full of questions, he ignored me. He strode out of the hotel, into the desert to become dragon, and headed home.

Once Drake was gone, I called Mick.