I Dream of Dragons (Boston Dragons) (27 page)

Rory and Amber glanced at each other.

“You have?”

“Come in.” As Morgaine stepped to the side she chuckled. “I guess you don’t know I’m psychic.”

“Ah, that’s it then,” Rory said.

Sly stepped out of the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. Meanwhile, Amber was trying to put into words what she wanted to say.

“I’d ask if I could get you anything, but I’m sorry, Rory, we don’t have any Guinness.”

“I don’t need a beverage, thank you.”

“Have a seat.” Morgaine gestured to the perpendicular love seat. “Sly, I think Amber would like a glass of wine.”

“Thank you.”

When he returned, Sly placed the glass of wine on the coffee table and sat beside Morgaine on the couch.

Amber took a fortifying sip. “Do you know what we want to talk to you about?” she asked Morgaine.

The psychic vampire-witch smiled. “No. I just got the sense that you were coming with some kind of request.”

So much for having an ulterior motive.
Amber cleared her throat, but before she could give her well-thought-out speech, Rory cut to the chase.

“We need to tell Shannon’s human lover about her paranormal status before they enter into marriage. We’re hopin’ you’ll be present in case he needs mesmerizin’ to take the information out of his head.”

Sly leaned back. “Are you expecting a negative reaction?”

“Not a’tall. He loves her so much that I believe he’ll accept her and all her quirks.”

Sly and Morgaine smiled at each other.

“We can relate to that,” Sly said.

“Good. Then you’ll help us?”

They stared at each other again, but this time the couple seemed to be having one of their telepathic conversations. At last Morgaine nodded. “We’ll stay nearby. We don’t want to intrude, so we won’t be in the room—but that’s because we know you can easily stop him from running down Beacon Street, screaming the truth.”

Rory chuckled. “You can rest assured I won’t let that happen.”

“I can pop in and tell you if you’re needed immediately,” Amber added.

Morgaine nodded. “When are you thinking of doing this?”

“Right now, if you’re able to stick around.”

“Now is good,” Sly said. “Morgaine has to go to Boston Uncommon to read tea leaves late this afternoon, but neither of us have anywhere to be before then.”

“Perfect,” Amber said. She turned toward Rory and took a deep breath. “Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as ever I’ll be.”

Amber took another big sip of the vampires’ wine and hoped that’s all it was. Just wine. She didn’t detect a hint of anything else, so she tipped back her glass and finished it.

“Ah, lass. You drink like you’re Irish already.”

She smirked. “I
am
Irish already. Always have been.”

He laughed. “You’re right and not. But don’t worry. I’ll make a real Irish lass of you before long.”

“That brings up a question of our own,” Sly said. “Where are you two planning to live after your own wedding?”

Amber’s brows shot up. “We haven’t told anyone yet. How did you… Oh.” Remembering in whose presence they sat, she said, “Never mind.”

The other couple laughed. “We won’t tell anyone unless you want us to.”

“You’re workin’ at the tearoom?” Rory asked.

Morgaine nodded.

“I may see you. Bliss’s friend Claudia has been wantin’ me sisters and me to play a session there. We talked about tryin’ to arrange it for tomorrow.”

“You can be ready that soon?” Amber asked.

“Ah, luv. We’re always ready to share our music.”

“It sounds great,” Sly said. “But we’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. We’d still like an answer to our question about where you two plan to live.”

“Ah. We haven’t quite finished discussin’ that ourselves. Best I can gather is perhaps we’ll keep a foot in both places.”

Morgaine and Sly stared at each other again.

At last, Morgaine spoke. “I happen to know the building next door is going up for sale soon. I don’t suppose you can afford it, but if you could, it might make a nice ‘overflow hotel’ for paranormal travelers.”

Amber gasped. “What a cool idea!” Then her hope immediately faded. “But you’re right, we probably can’t afford it. These places go for millions.”

Rory took her hand. “Mayhaps we can. If you want it, I’d be glad to look into the price and such.”

She leaned away and stared at him. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “I can’t promise anythin’.”

The only thing Amber could think of was,
How?
In what world was an Irish folksinger able to afford a down payment and mortgage for a million-dollar brownstone in Boston’s Back Bay?

To the shock of everyone in the room, Mother Nature appeared and pointed straight at Amber. “Aha! I knew you’d want something.”

Amber glanced at the others. Rory recovered quickly, having met the goddess once before. Morgaine’s mouth was hanging open, and she grabbed Sly’s hand.

Sly’s expression quickly changed to a scowl. “And who might you be, besides an uninvited guest?”

Gaia rested her fist on her hip and sized him up. “You obviously don’t have a clue who I am,
vampire,
so I’ll forgive the unwelcome and introduce myself. I am Mother Nature.” She focused on Morgaine and smiled. “
The
Goddess you worship.”

Morgaine’s hand flew to her chest as if holding her heart inside. She didn’t speak or make a sound. Amber suspected she wouldn’t be able to for a while.

“So, muse of air travel, it seems I’ve discovered the incentive you needed. But before I make all the arrangements—which I can do instantly of course—you and your dragon ought to see it. I’m afraid it’s in need of a little attention.”

“Oh? What kind of attention?”

“Mostly cosmetic. The decor is—let’s say, ‘taste specific.’ The eccentric owner made his fortune from a few nightclubs in the seventies and eighties. Unless you
like
the idea of having a disco ball in your living room…”

Rory choked. Amber could tell he was trying not to say something that might insult the goddess’s generous gift. Finally, he said, “I would enjoy remodeling it. Such a project would keep me occupied between sessions at the tearoom.”

Morgaine finally found her voice. “And you could live here until the place is ready.”

Amber chuckled. “We kind of have to. I signed a year’s lease.”

“And I paid for it—in cash.” Rory grinned at her and she couldn’t help grinning back. Suddenly, she remembered something.

“Wait! This doesn’t mean you’re taking back your permission for Finn to marry Shannon, does it?”

Gaia straightened. “Of course not. I’d never break a promise—well, unless I couldn’t keep it.”

Amber was both reassured and unsettled by that remark.

Rory stroked her back with reassuring caresses. “I guess it’s time to tell Finn what he needs to know so he can marry me sister.”

They both rose and bade the managers a good day.

* * *

Finn and Shannon sat on the sofa, holding hands. To the lad’s credit, he hadn’t run away, screaming, when Rory explained the special nature of his clan.

“So, you’re tellin’ me that Shannon will never age while we’re together?”

“That’s right, Finn,” Rory said gravely.

“An’ she’ll outlive me by hundreds o’ years.”

“If not thousands. We’re very hard to kill.”

The young man hesitated only a second, then jumped up and pumped his fist. “Wahoo! I get to have a young wife until I die.”

Rory was taken aback.
Is that the kind of man Finn is? Have I made a mistake by giving him permission to marry me precious sister?

Gaia rose. “I know what you’re thinking, dragon. And I know what the man you call Finn is thinking too. Before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusions, he’s simply excited that he won’t have to watch her grow infirm and die.”

Finn looked confused as he sat down and took Shannon’s hand again. “Well, o’ course. What else would you think?”

Shannon stiffened. “Oh, I don’t know. Mayhaps that your young, beautiful wife will make you look like some kind of hot man in your old age.”

Shock registered on his face, and then he burst out laughing. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you bring up a good point.” Before Shannon could get angry, Finn cleared his throat and turned a serious face to Mother Nature. “I don’t know how we’ll explain it to the villagers. Have you any advice on that, Goddess?”

Gaia tipped her head and appeared to think. Finally she said, “You have two choices. I can make her appear to age, or you can move from place to place as people get suspicious. All I ask is that you never reveal the existence of paranormal beings to any human—without my permission.”

“I won’t. I swear it.” Finn turned to Shannon. “Which do you wish to do, luv? After all, it’s your body and your home.”

Smiling, she said, “I think it might be fun to move about. We can see other parts of the country we love. But Ballyhoo is your village too. How do you feel about leavin’ it for a few years, mayhaps only comin’ home to be buried there?”

Finn kissed her knuckles. “As long as you’re happy, luv, I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

Rory barked a laugh. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

Author’s Note

So…the wedding in Ballyhoo went off without a hitch. Well, no. That’s not quite right. Shannon and Finn got hitched. Everything else went unhitched. I mean, unhitchy—oh, forget it. The wedding was awesome. Shannon and Finn are enjoying their honeymoon in their little caretaker’s cottage by the sea.

The Arish cousins did split what was left of the family treasures—which
somehow
appeared to be more than anyone expected—with one notable exception. They gave a jewel-studded candelabra to the happy couple as a wedding present.

As it turned out, the leprechauns made up for their horrible mistake by finding more long lost Arish king’s treasure that had been hidden in the bogs thousands of years earlier in case the castle fell. The Northern Irish cousins had followed the trail of the remaining stuff to Iceland and came back with much more than Rory had sold, so they were happy.

While in Ireland, Rory showed Amber his childhood home. As they were exploring the castle caves, a glint of something shiny caught her eye. It turned out to be Rory’s grandmother’s gift…his precious amber that he’d lost as a child. It was indeed the green variety and matched her eyes perfectly.

They discovered something else too. In what was once the dungeon they came across Clancy’s pot of gold. Rory called out to Fagan immediately and explained that they
hadn’t
taken it. Someone else was making it look as if they had. To Rory’s surprise the leprechaun believed him instantly. Apparently Shamus had confessed and apologized for his greed only moments before.

As of this moment, Rory and Amber are shopping at Home Depot, picking out sophisticated finishes and fixtures to restore their new Beacon Street brownstone to its former glory.

Meanwhile, Chloe is in her walk-in closet, tossing her sister’s clothing and shoes in a heap on the floor. At some point she’ll stuff everything in a garbage bag and mail it to Shannon as a wedding present.

* * *

I want my readers to know that Chloe has been muttering to me all along about wanting her story to be told too. So I wrote it! Watch for book two in the Boston Dragons series,
My Wild Irish Dragon
!

Here’s a sneak peek at book two in Ashlyn Chase’s sizzling Boston Dragons series

My Wild Irish Dragon

Chloe Arish sat on a hard plastic chair outside the fire chief’s office, tapping her foot while she awaited her second interview for a job as a Boston firefighter. She had already passed the Civil Service Exam and the Candidate Physical Ability Test. The written test and oral exam were more difficult for her than the physical stuff, but thanks to some coaching by her friend and fellow dragon/firefighter Drake Cameron, she had passed with flying colors.

Actually, the one thing she was most worried about was her fake birth certificate. Now that she was a naturalized U.S. citizen and had been a resident of Boston for over a year, she met the most basic requirements. But her life’s history on paper was completely false, and this job came with background checks.

Fortunately, her Ulster cousins knew “a bloke” who could create a realistic forgery, picking a birthday that didn’t indicate her real age, which was well over a thousand years old. She didn’t look a day over twenty-three, so her phony birth certificate was made to match. Just for kicks, they’d picked July 4 as her birthday. America’s birthday.

Just as she was checking her watch for the umpteenth time, the door opened and out strolled a six-foot-tall Adonis. Dark hair, chiseled features, and olive skin.

He was followed by the chief, who clasped him in a man-hug, and they pounded each other on their backs.

“Give my best to your family,” the chief said. “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”

“I will. And say hello to yours for me.”

Oh, feck. They know each other.
Chloe had heard that nepotism was a regular thing among firefighters.

The chief nodded to her. “I’ll be with you shortly,” he said and returned to his office.

The Greek god gazed at her with intense dark eyes. “So, you’re here for an interview too?”

She straightened in her chair. “I am.”

“Let me guess. You’re a secretary? Or, what is it called now? Administrative assistant?”

Her eyes widened.
What a chauvinist pig!
Did she want to give him the satisfaction of an outraged reaction? Hell yes.

“I’m here to interview for the firefighter position. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He had the audacity to laugh. “A little thing like you?”

She seethed inwardly and longed to shift into dragon form, to breathe a column of fire right into his face. Or not. That would be a crime—in more ways than one.

She tipped her chin up. “I passed the CPAT in record time.”

“Really?” He said it as if he didn’t believe her. “Record time, huh? I did too. I wonder who broke whose record?”

This arrogant fecker was getting to her. She had to tamp down her anger, and quickly, before she started snorting smoke out of her nose. Revealing her paranormal status to humans was strictly forbidden. She had never done it, but she knew someone who had. Mother Nature herself had punished the offender. The Goddess was
not
someone Chloe wanted to piss off—and Gaia seemed to have a temper as quick as her own.

Injure them with kindness
was an American saying she was fond of. Or was it
Kill them with kindness
? She couldn’t quite keep all the slang straight, but the meanings got through.

She smiled. “It looks like you may get the position. After all, they say it’s
who
you know—not
what
you know.” At least she hoped she’d quoted that one correctly.

His back stiffened and he frowned.

Yup. Got that one right.

Then he relaxed and smiled, as if he didn’t care. “Or I could get it because of both. What do you have as an advantage—other than your sex?”

She gasped. “Excuse me? Are you accusing me of sleeping my way into the job?”

He coughed. “No, that’s not what I meant. Not at all. I just meant that your sex is
female.
As in, your
gender
. There’s only one woman in the whole department right now. They may want another one so they won’t be accused of gender bias.”

Oh, this ass is just digging himself in deeper and deeper.

“I don’t need to use that to my advantage, but it’s good to know.” This time her smile probably looked somewhat evil as she pictured herself punching this guy in the gut. Messing with Chloe Arish was
not
a good idea.

The door opened and the chief said, “Come in, Miss Arish.”

At last.
It was her turn to prove she deserved and wanted this job more than he did…probably more than
anyone
did. And her
sex
had nothing to do with it.

* * *

“So, you want to be a firefighter,” the chief began as he took a seat in his comfortable-looking chair behind the desk.

“Yes, sir,” she answered respectfully.

“Your scores are certainly impressive. You must be a lot stronger than you look.”

You have no idea.
Dragons were not only very strong, they were also fireproof and healed quickly. She couldn’t be better suited for the job.

“Tell me why you wish to join our band of
brothers
,” he said. It almost sounded like he was trying to provoke a response.

She wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Well, sir, there was a fire back in my hometown. Our small volunteer fire department took too long getting from their homes to the station, and then to the scene. I heard children crying. The garda—policeman—wouldn’t go in himself and wouldn’t let me in. I could have helped. I’m fast and light on my feet. I could have made it to that bedroom before the whole place went up. One child died of smoke inhalation and the other was badly burned.”

Leaning forward in his chair, the chief asked, “What about the parents?”

“They were at the pub, sir.”

The chief waited, perhaps looking for some kind of judgmental reaction. She wouldn’t voice her personal feelings about the adults involved in the incident. Her heart broke when she saw those children.

She needed to change the subject before the lump in her throat grew too large to speak. “I’ve been helpin’ me brother and his wife rebuild an old brownstone on Beacon Street for the past year, so this would be perfect timin’,”
Get yourself together, Chloe.
She tended to lapse back into her Irish dialect when something upset her. “It was gratifying work, but it’s done. I would like, more than anything, to do something even more satisfying, such as protecting the neighborhood I’ve grown so fond of.”

Chief O’Brian’s eyes lit up. “Did I detect an Irish accent?”

Feck.
She had been working so hard to rid herself of the telltale accent, hoping she could pass for an American. “You did, sir. I was born in Ireland.”

He grinned. “My grandparents hailed from County Claire. Where did you come from?”

She almost slipped again and said County Kerry…but thank goodness she caught herself in time. Her cousins had given her a birth certificate that said she was born in Belfast. The Ulster address grated, but she couldn’t exactly be choosy.

“I was born outside Belfast, sir. But we spent a lot of time in County Claire when I was a child.” Best not to share that her father’s family were the Kings of Ballyhoo, Ireland—further to the south—and she grew up in a castle built into the cliffs. If he checked the history books, he
might
find her name dating back a thousand years, so she left it at that.

His expression became serious. “Belfast… That might actually help. In this job, we don’t
only
respond to fires. You may see some gruesome things. Did you grow up witnessing any victims of the bombings?”

She thought back to the Battle of Ballyhoo. Her father, the king, had had to slaughter his own brother and others involved in his attempted overthrow. They’d used boiling oil as well as crossbows, swords, and other weapons of the time. Such was the way of kingdoms and family feuds back then.

“I have seen many burn victims, dismembered bodies, and the like. It isn’t pretty, but that’s another reason I’m motivated to prevent such tragedies.”

The chief leaned back in his chair, apparently impressed. He didn’t say anything for several moments. And then, “Have you ever thought about becoming a nurse?”

Ah. There it was. That bias. But how should she answer that?

“Well, sir, by the time people get to the hospital, it’s too late to
prevent
these tragedies. I’d really like to do all I can to stop the situations before anyone gets hurt.”

He stared at her as if he had something specific in mind. “How are you at teaching?”

Shite. If not a nurse, he wants me to become a teacher. Can’t women do anything else?
She was just about to go off on a rant when he steepled his fingers and continued.

“I only bring it up because we’re sometimes asked to present talks to elementary school kids. Most of the guys dread those things. You seem to like children.”

“Ah.”
Whew.
She was glad she’d managed to keep her famous temper under control.
“I’d consider it an honor to teach fire prevention to such an impressionable population.”

The chief smiled and seemed satisfied with her answer.

Then he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. When he was settled again, he stared at her. “There’s only one position, and to be completely honest, I had thought the last candidate was a shoo-in. Now I’m not so sure.”

How should I respond to that? Thank you?
She opted not to respond at all. She really did feel she was the right
woman
for the job, but saying so might sound like she was playing the gender card.

“Hmmm…” The chief stroked his clean-shaven chin. “I’m going to have to give this some serious thought. Keep your cell phone on. I want to talk with someone and get back to you as soon as possible.”

Hallelujah!
She had a chance.

Chloe walked out into the hall and was surprised to see the Greek god still standing there.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I hope you didn’t have your heart set on the position.”

He’s still assuming I can’t do the job. Well, I’ll show both of them I can.
She dipped low and grasped him under his delectable buttocks. Then she hoisted him over her shoulder and swung around to face the stunned chief.

“As you can see, lifting a grown man isn’t a problem. In fact, I could carry him down the hall and deposit him on the sidewalk without breaking perspiration.”

The chief burst out laughing, but her hostage let out a growl and said, “Put me down. Now!”

“Sure,
sweetheart
.”

As soon as she’d deposited him onto his feet, she turned to leave. She didn’t miss the furious look on his face nor the flash in his dark eyes that would have skewered her, if he’d had such a power.

“I think you meant to say, ‘without breaking a sweat,’” the chief called after her. He chuckled and murmured “adorable” under his breath. Fortunately he returned to his office before any more could be said.

* * *

Ryan Fiero stared after the retreating figure of an incredibly surprising woman. She’d embarrassed him in front of an old family friend, and if it got back to his large, legendary firefighting family, he’d never hear the end of it. Even with that, he couldn’t help being impressed by the slender blond.

She didn’t look back as she rounded the corner. Behind him, the chief’s door clicked shut.

Oh no.
He wasn’t about to leave Chief O’Brian with
that
as his final impression. He pounded on the door.

As if the chief had been expecting a reaction, he opened it right away. He didn’t stand aside, however. Apparently they were to have their parting words right there in the hallway.

“You can’t… I mean…I hope you won’t consider her based on that little stunt she just pulled.”

Chief O’Brian folded his arms. “Not at all.”

Ryan let out a relieved breath—until the chief spoke again.

“I was already considering her.”

What?
“But my family… If I lose out to a girl…” He scrubbed his hand over his face. He didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
They’d never respect me. Never forgive me.

Sure, his mother would. She was a saint. Her face should be in psychological textbooks next to the words “unconditional love.” His father and six brothers, however, were another story. Their Sunday dinner conversations were unmatched when it came to firefighting bravado.

The chief clasped his shoulder. “Look, Ryan… I have to consider every candidate who makes it this far. I’m sure you understand that. It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal? It sounds as if you’ve already decided.”

“Not at all.”

The chief took a good look at Ryan’s face, which must have been etched with worry lines. At last he lowered his voice and said, conspiratorially, “I’m going to speak to the commissioner. Perhaps we can find the funds to hire both of you.”

So it all comes down to money. What a surprise…not.

There wasn’t a damn thing Ryan could do about a budget. He doubted the chief could influence the commissioner—and probably, the mayor—into allotting more money, even for the pricey Back Bay neighborhood. They had recently lost two firefighters in the line of duty. He’d heard one had already been replaced, but he assumed
he
would be replacing the other.

Ryan gazed at his feet and nodded. “I understand. Well, thank you for the opportunity.”

“You’re not out of the race yet, boy. Something could still come from the background checks, or any number of things. I want to be fair and thorough. Don’t get discouraged if there’s a bit of a wait.”

“I won’t, sir.” The chief extended his hand and Ryan grasped it firmly. The handshake felt like a formal dismissal.

As the chief’s door closed, Ryan thought that maybe he should do a little background checking too. Just in case they missed something on the blond.

* * *

“How did it go?” Ryan’s mother asked at the dinner table that night. “Do we have another firefighter in the family?”