Blackwing Dragon (Harper's Mountains 5) (14 page)

Rowan rinsed the minty froth from her mouth and set the toothbrush Kane had given her beside his in the cup by the sink. He’d had one extra toothbrush. Color: black. Surprise, surprise.

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked, snuggling back under the covers to watch him put on his prosthetic leg.

“Black like my soul,” he quipped.

Rowan snorted. “I knew it. Are you sure you can’t call in?”

“Princess, don’t tempt me.” Kane settled his jeans over the metal limb, and fastened them into place, then rolled over on the bed. With a grin, he bit her toe through the covers. “Martin needs the help.”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah, he’s up near retirement age, and he only has me and Wyatt working for him.”

“You’re a good person. You know how I can tell?”

Kane rolled his eyes and buried his face on the comforter beside her leg. “How,” he asked in a muffled voice.

“Because you could get an all-day naked party with me, but you still won’t ignore your responsibilities to Martin. I like that.”

“He’s been good to me,” Kane said, resting his chin on her ankle. “He gave me a job knowing, or thinking, I was a dragon. Some people won’t do that, you know? Some companies don’t want to hire Supes. Martin hired two. Me and Wyatt.”

“Are you and Wyatt friends?”

Kane lifted one shoulder up to his ear. “I guess he’s the closest thing I have to one. Besides you. Do you need a ride home?”

“Will it make you late for work?”

Kane gave her a lopsided smile and nodded.

“Then no, I’ll make like a dragon and fly. Harper said I need to make appearances in the sky every couple of days to remind people the Bloodrunners are protected. Two birds, one stone and all.”

Kane pushed upward, his biceps bulging as he did. He stood to his full, imposing height and straightened his T-shirt—it was also black like his soul, as he liked to say. She giggled at the thought. Kane had a beautiful soul. He just liked to pretend he didn’t.

“I left breakfast on a plate in the kitchen.”

“You’re trying to secure a blowjob, aren’t you?”

Was that a blush on his cheeks? Kane grinned at the ground. “Uuuh. Sooo…” He ran his hand through his hair. He did that a lot when he was nervous or frustrated. He was being so damn cute right now Rowan had to pull the covers up to hide her smile.

“Maybe, do you want to go…eat food. Together? Like one of those…”

“Like a date?” Rowan scrambled up on the bed. She was wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts that hit at mid-thigh. “Are you asking me out on a date, Kane?” she asked too loud.

He hunched his shoulders like the pitch of her voice had hurt his ears. “I think I am.”

Rowan let off a squeal and leapt at him.

“Oh, shit!” he said, catching her and losing his balance. He reached back and steadied himself on the dresser and laughed against her neck. “Woman, give me warning. I have a bum leg, remember.”

“My sexy-ass pirate.” She kissed his lips and then nipped his bottom one as she pulled away. “Yes, yes, yes, I want to go eat food with you. Official date style. I’ll wear something cute. I’ll shave my legs! Can we take a picture together? This is a big deal, and a hundred years from now, I want to have a picture of the moment you asked me on our first date.”

“A hundred years? Woman, when did we become immortal?”

Rowan scampered off and returned, held the phone up, kissed Kane on his cheek, and hoped he wasn’t grimacing for the picture she took.

“Okay, I have to go.” Kane kissed her gently, a soft chuckle in his throat. God, she adored that sound.

He still felt dominant and scary, but she was getting used to it little by little. Her dragon was adjusting, and it made it easier when he gave her easy laughs and smiles. She hugged his neck suddenly, snuggled close, and closed her eyes at how good it felt when he rubbed his hand up her back and hugged her tightly, as if he didn’t want to let her go either.

“Does tonight work? I wouldn’t mind seeing you again after I get off work.”

“Will you pick me up like a real date and everything?”

“Yeah. I’ll even say hi to the Bloodrunners when I come get you.”

Rowan giggled and smiled so brightly at the wall behind him her cheeks hurt. He was going to try—for her.

“Um, Roe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you not post that picture of us online? I need to make a few calls before we tell people. I need to make sure you are protected.”

Rowan frowned. Protected? “Will people come after me?”

Kane shook his head, rasping his whiskers against her cheek. “I get attention, not the good kind, and I just want to make sure that doesn’t blow over to you.”

“Okay.”

Kane eased back and lowered down, looked at her at eye-level. “It’s not because I’m not proud as hell to have you with me. I swear it’s not.” His charming-boy smile curved his lips. “I’m gonna call my mom on the way to work and tell her about you. She’s been afraid I would never find someone I cared about. She’ll be happy.”

Well, that did make her feel better. “So it’s okay if I tell my people?”

The smile dipped from his lips, and his eyes went serious. “Give me a day before you start making phone calls. That’s all I’m asking.”

She pulled his palm to her lips and kissed it. “Okay, Blackwing, you have twenty-four hours starting now.”

Kane winked at her—winked like a sexy-man!—and as Rowan stood there dumbfounded by his masculine beauty, he kissed her again, just a quick, affectionate peck, squeezed her ass hard, nipped her neck with a little growl, and limped out of the bedroom. Stunned, she followed him to the porch and waved him off as he sped out of the yard. He smiled in the rearview mirror at her and gave a two fingered wave out his open window just before he disappeared around a curve in the road.

It was in this moment, as she stood alone on his land for the first time, that it really struck her what had happened. Rowan stumbled onto the neatly mowed yard and rubbed the sore bite-mark on the back of her neck. She spun in a slow circle, stunned gaze on the surrounding forest and mountains. There was a chopping block and organized stacks of wood against one side of the house. An old tire swing hung from a towering white pine on the edge of the woods. From here she could see a babbling river running behind the house, and there was a hammock hung between two trees, creaking gently in the breeze. Birds chattered happily around her. Everything was lush, green, and beautiful. The run-down exterior of the cabin was what surprised her most about Kane’s territory. She knew what it looked like inside. Rowan had expected it to look dilapidated inside to match the outside, but it wasn’t. He was rebuilding it from the bones out. Last night, if she’d had her mind after being fucked so thoroughly by Kane in the front yard, she would’ve taken more time to appreciate the work he’d done.

Rowan padded over the sagging porch and pushed open the front door. The living room was stripped bare, down to the subflooring. The walls were open and exposed wiring hung from the rafters above. The couches were covered in plastic, and a TV was sitting on the couch cushions. But beyond that was a kitchen that had been remodeled from top to bottom. And she would bet her wings Kane had done all the work himself. It was small, but the wooden countertops were polished and the custom cabinets homey. It looked like a farm house kitchen with a big sink and everything. The bedroom and bathroom were also finished, down to the wood floors and polished log walls. The furniture was sparse, but tidy and well-placed, and made the rooms look bigger than they really were. The ceiling was sagging throughout the house, but already, Kane had written measurements and made notches all over the rotted rafters, and there was a ladder near the door with a measuring tape sitting on it.

What did it say about Kane that he only tackled one room at a time? It was apparent that he refused to move onto a new project until he was done with the last. Was it because that was how he handled his life? One day at a time? One obstacle at a time?

There was even a second bathroom off the only hallway. Rowan turned the knob and pushed open the door. Wait, this wasn’t a bathroom at all. She stepped into a dark room and flipped on the light switch on the wall. A single light illuminated an office space. This wasn’t like the rest of the house, though.

The floor was covered in dark carpet, and there were no windows. The ceiling was lower in here, as though this room had been some sort of add-on to the cabin. There was a massive three-monitor computer on a sprawling desk against the back wall. The desk was covered in stacks of notes. On the wall was nailed three cork boards with scribbled pieces of paper stuck with black push-pins. A map took up a good portion of the wall to her right, dotted in red sewing pins with thread connecting several of them to create a spider web effect.

This room wasn’t homey. It was cold, like Damon and Clara’s bedroom.

This wasn’t an office. This was Kane’s lair.

There was a glass display case of awards and medals he’d received from his time serving, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Perhaps he had hard feelings about all of it because of his leg. Or perhaps he was angry about having to fight after his dragon had been cut from him. There were a few pictures in the display. Kane in his combat uniform, holding an assault rifle, sunglasses hiding his eyes. One of him with a few other men, sitting in bag chairs in the sand, playing cards, dressed in desert fatigues, dog tags hanging from their necks. They were all smiling—all but Kane, who looked dead-eyed into the camera. And all their eyes were glowing inhumanly. Rowan gasped and wiped her hand across the thin layer of dust to see it better. Kane hadn’t told her his team had been a task force of shifters. But really, Kane hadn’t told her anything about this part of his life.

The edge of a picture on the first bulletin board fluttered in the breeze from the vent, demanding her attention. It was a picture of Kane kneeling down beside a wolf hound. The dog was giant and had his tongue flopped out the side of his mouth in a happy expression. Kane had his sunglasses on and was almost,
almost
smiling. The words
Gray Dog
were scribbled across the top in permanent marker. There was a yellow sheet of ruled paper underneath the picture with notes on it.

Killed June 11 by the Valdoro Pack

Drake – Deceased, ashes, Harper

Sam - Deceased, ashes, Harper

Ray - Deceased, ashes, Harper

Bryant - Deceased, ashes, Harper

Seth - dominant

Dustin - submissive

Jace – Second in the pack, dominant

Axton – Alpha, challenged outside of Drat’s twice, bested him both, injured by Harper’s fire, last seen outside of Tuscaloosa

Kane was hunting the pack. And rightly so. They’d killed his dog, and now the video cameras outside made sense. His explanation that he had to fight suddenly clicked into place. She hadn’t taken it seriously enough. She’d thought it was just drunk asshole humans wanting to say they’d fought a dragon, but there were shifters challenging him, too. And Kane was fighting without an animal to call on. No wonder he’d stood his ground and gone on the attack as soon as he was tripped in the diner that first night. No wonder he dared Weston to come at him in the River’s Edge last night. Showing fear would get him hurt or worse, so he’d trained himself to accept the brawl. To accept the chaos and pain because facing the challenger meant he had a chance at survival. Because shifters were different. If they sensed weakness, instinct took over. It was like this bloodlust, impossible to ignore. And even without his dragon, Kane was still here, still mostly whole, still holding his own.

She skimmed lists of names and places. Kane had constructed archives of all known crews within a hundred-mile radius and had write-ups on every member. He had pictures that looked like he’d pulled them off surveillance cameras at gas stations and street corners, and some of the logos on the pictures looked official.

Slowly, Rowan sat in the computer chair. She systematically read through the piles of notes. Time dragged on and on until the notes stopped making sense. The words became too big, and some were just sheets of numbers. She was stuck—a sponge left thirsty for more knowledge.

On the far edge of the desk was a large monitor with the views from two outside cameras, focused on his front yard and front porch. There were three others he’d put in the woods somewhere. One was a clear view of the entrance to his property, angled right at the full mailbox. The edge of one of the junk-mail magazines was hanging out and fluttering in the breeze. Rowan frowned at the blank computer monitor. When she bumped the mouse, a blue screen asking for a password came up.

She should stop here, but curiosity had sunk it’s long, sharp claws into her. She’d learned more about Kane in the last few minutes than she had since she’d met him.

One password, and if it wasn’t meant to be, she would take it as a sign.

Rowan leaned forward, fingers poised over the keyboard. It would be something he kept to himself. Something he wouldn’t have shared with anyone.

Fingers shaking, she typed
thedarkness
. Enter.