Authors: Annie Nicholas
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunlight gleamed off the lump of metal that Eoin had dragged to the middle of what he thought of as his statue room. The surface of the sculpture was warmer, but not from his flame. He rubbed his hands together, braced his feet, took a deep breath like the big bad wolf and blew.
Nothing happened.
Well, that was not true. He managed to coat the surface with spit. If he’d been from the Trigog clan, then the spit would have eaten through the metal like acid.
He wiped his mouth and paced around the lump of trash then kicked it. Fucker. People used to tremble at his flame. He could burn down a barn with a sneeze. Roast a marshmallow with his control. He roared at the material and triggered his flame. All gone. Coughing, he leaned against the metal and caught his breath. Eoin, harbinger of smoke and darkness, was no more.
His gaze rested on the metallic version of Angie’s ass. From here, even the solid material seemed soft like her skin. It cried out to be caressed. Damn, he could be good with the right drive. Just last night, he’d flamed while sculpting her curves. Hell, he’d been so hot he hadn’t needed to blow flame. The heat from his hands had softened the material. He had burned with desire.
Now he was dead cold with concern. He’d given her a lift to work this morning, but she’d insisted he leave her alone for the rest of the day to think about the information he dumped on her at breakfast. Did a phone call cross the line? He respected her independence, but not when it came to them. Had his invasion into her past pushed her away?
Viktor was Eoin’s guide to human behavior. He’d been human once. In his present state, though, Eoin couldn’t trust anything he said.
It hadn’t occurred to Eoin that Angie would still go to work after finding out about her adoption. If he had his way, she’d never work another day in her life. She could keep him company instead. He had enough wealth to provide for her every need. But she had insisted, saying something about appointments and customers and keeping schedules. Things that had never concerned him in his long life until recently.
His agent would be by sometime today to pick up his new displays for the gallery. Unfortunately, Eoin didn’t even know if any of the statues were finished. Angie’s statue definitely was, but that one was for him; it wouldn’t be going on any display. Rubbing the back of his neck, he paced the room.
Stress. Viktor had mentioned something about stress being the cause of his flaming issues.
His potential mate was in distress and wouldn’t see him, other males were in the city wanting to steal her and she had a curse preventing her from shifting. He shouldn’t be in the castle while Angie was in the city dealing with her own emotional crisis. He should be at her side, helping her fight these personal demons. Every cell in his body was crying out for him to begin the mating dance the moment she crossed his threshold.
Eoin wiped a thin sheet of sweat off his forehead.
Angie couldn’t respond, though. It was like dancing with a partner who couldn’t hear the music. It wouldn’t be long before these urges drove him insane.
The solution lay in Angie’s past. How had her parents gotten hold of a baby dragon without knowing? It was true that dragon offspring didn’t manifest true shifting capabilities until about ten or twelve years old. Yet, there should’ve been other signs, like her claws. If he couldn’t convince her to dig further into her past, then he’d have to do it on his own for both their sakes.
A distant voice called hello from his foyer and caught his attention. Who had the audacity to enter his castle uninvited? Again. Maybe he should get an alarm system. He stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed as he listened to the approaching footsteps.
Roger stuck his head into the room and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. “Knock, knock.”
Eoin relaxed his tense muscles. He’d expected another dragon. Fuck, what if one of those other two bastards were at Angie’s shop talking her up right now? She’d agreed to be his mate but Cedric owned more gold than most countries and Zechariah had that full head of hair. He was sure that if she had been able to shift she would have continued the mating dance. But she hadn’t, and that left her susceptible to other male influence.
His agent wandered into the room, gaze darting to the statues in different phases of completion. “Love it, love it.” He stopped by the work that was filled with spiky imprints of his claws. He ran a finger against one of the points and gasped. A drop of blood dangled on the tip. “Sharp.” He sucked his finger. “We’ll have to post a warning on this one.” He spoke with his mouth full. His eyes widened as his gaze fell upon Angie’s statue. He dropped his hand and made a beeline for it.
Eoin cocked his head to the side and lowered his brow, following the agent’s direction.
“Wow this…this—” Roger held out his hands toward Angie’s torso. “Wow, this just makes me want to touch it.” He ran his hands over Angie’s perfect ass.
A growl tore from Eoin’s throat.
The sharp piercing noise made his agent jump from the statue. “What the fuck?” He eyed Eoin as if he’d shifted to dragon form.
“Don’t touch her.” Eoin strode between the statue and his agent. “This one is not for display. It’s for my private collection only.”
Holding out his hands in front of him, his agent backed away. “Okay, take it easy, buddy.” He continued retreating until he winced. “Ouch.” He jerked his left shoulder away from one of the sharp points of another statue. There was a fresh bloodstain on his shirt. “Fuck, Eoin. You don’t have to go all dragon on my ass. I’m on your side, remember?” He pressed his hand to his wound.
“Of course I do. It’s what I am.” He grabbed his agent by the arm and guided him into the kitchen where he pulled out the First Aid kit. “Sit on that stool and take off your shirt.” He pulled out disinfectant and gauze. “I am a dragon. It’s the only way I know how to act. Just don’t touch that statue. It’s personal.”
His agent sat where he was told and removed his shirt, glancing over his shoulder at the wound. “Can’t believe how sharp that sculpture is.”
“What did you expect? I made it with my claws.” Eoin poured the peroxide over the wound.
His agent hissed. “That stings!”
Eoin had kept his hand on Roger’s shoulder so he wouldn’t escape the chair. “No shit.” He applied a bandage after inspecting the wound. “It’s just a flesh wound. Girls like scars.” He slapped his agent on the injured shoulder and put way the First Aid box.
His agent tried to hide his wince of pain. “Four statues makes a poor show. Do you have any other things I can bring to the gallery?”
Eoin shook his head. “I can’t work like this.” He paced the kitchen. He couldn’t help the need to move when pressured. It was the animal in him. “I’m preoccupied with some personal issues and it’s really fuckin’ around with my control. You have to cancel the show.”
His agent jumped to his feet, pointing back toward his workroom. “That’s the best damn work I’ve ever seen you make. That sharp statue, whatever you call it, is so full of violence and rage it makes me want to scream looking at it. Don’t get me started talking about the ass one… I kind of want to keep my organs inside.”
Eoin darted glare in his direction. “Smart.”
“If I cancel the show it’s going to be impossible for me to book any others when you backed out at the last minute on Lorenzo. Contrary to popular belief, galleries don’t want to work with difficult artists. It’s do or die, man. This is it. The statues.” He pointed back to the workroom. “We just need two more.”
“I can’t focus. Period.” Eoin wasn’t going to tell Roger he was flame impotent. “I need to take care of my personal life.”
“Have you ever considered that the turmoil in your personal life is inspiring you to make these fabulous pieces of work?”
Eoin rubbed his eyebrow and stared at his feet. Roger was the closest thing to a human friend he’d had in years. “No.” He needed the contact to keep in touch with the species. They changed so fast, he couldn’t stay informed on his own. How could he explain how shredded his insides were, to a creature who didn’t have similar mating instincts? Humans had a choice to follow their heart or not. They didn’t know what a blessing that could be. “Look, I can’t explain in terms you’ll understand. It’s a dragon thing.”
Roger rubbed his injured shoulder. “Try me.”
Eoin had signed with Roger as his agent because he was relentless. It was ironic that his agent would turn those skills on him. He chewed the inside of his cheek. “I lost my ability to blow flame a few days ago.”
“Oh.”
Crossing the small space between them, Eoin pinned the human to his chair. “This doesn’t leave the room.”
Roger’s face drained of color. “Never.” He made a zipping motion across his mouth. “I like living. It’s better than dead.”
Eoin nodded. He’d also chosen Roger because he was a smart man. “Without flame, heating the material enough to work with it is impossible.”
“I can get you a blow torch.” Roger waited through Eoin’s silence before adding, “What about a flame thrower?”
The dragon snorted. “I need time.” Focusing on Angie and finding a way for her to shift was his priority. With other males chasing her tail, he couldn’t afford the luxury of art. Until he mated Angie, nothing in the universe mattered. “Cancel the show.”
“Eoin, you’re making a mistake.”
“It’s time for you to leave. I’ll contact you when the work is done.” If it was ever done.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Beth seemed caught within her own bubble of quiet as she drove from the witch’s house.
Angie glanced at her from the corner of her eye. She had hexes to fix at the shop. Maybe Beth was thinking on what she had to repair? Angie had her own concerns to worry about. The witch had offered to remove Angie’s curse. Could it be so simple?
Simple
being a relative word. She hadn’t asked the witch for details. Maybe she had to sacrifice her first-born child or something crazy. Or maybe not. The price was steep, so the risk could belong all to the witch.
Beth pulled up to the curb in front of Angie’s apartment building. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, Angie. I want to help pay for the damages.”
“Is that what you’ve been worrying about? It could all be just coincidence, Beth. All of those things could have been broken with or without those hexes.” Beth would be up all night if Angie didn’t nip her guilt in the bud.
“I’m responsible.” She clutched her hands in front of her chest. “I should have asked you first before buying those charms.”
“You were trying to help. Look, if you want you can pay for lunch this weekend and consider the driving lessons payback.” She held out her hand to her best friend. “Deal?”
Beth grinned and shook her hand eagerly. “Deal.”
Angie exited the car and hurried to her apartment. Once inside, she pulled out her smartphone and checked her bank account balances. Her meager savings didn’t even come close to covering the price. Sabrina would laugh in her face. If she withdrew her limit on her credit cards, she could gather maybe half. Noodles would become her dietary staple.
She’d spent the past year saving every dime so she could move. Each time something broke at her shop that savings account grew smaller and smaller until it hardly existed. The only thing that she’d ever wanted was a home, but now those dreams had changed. Whose dreams wouldn’t change after finding out they were a full blooded—holy crap!—dragon?
If she could shift, she would never have to drive a car. She would fly everywhere, like Japan and Africa. Then what? It’s not like she had a clan waiting, but she didn’t need a clan. She was sure Eoin would be right at her side, helping her every step of the way. Her life was finally coming together after all the other disappointments and neglect. She had something positive blooming in her future. The hexes in her shop would be changed to lucky charms, so things should stop breaking and she’d save money on repairs. Now this, a possible cure.
She could borrow the money. Her stomach cramped. Ryota was rolling in it. Eoin might have the funds—she just couldn’t be sure with the dragon because of the state of his castle. Beth could afford to lend her the cash. What was Angie still doing sitting in her fucking apartment? She should be making calls, begging on her knees so Sabrina could remove her curse.
Doubt, that’s why. Part of her still believed that she’d wake from this dream. No matter how much Eoin insisted she was a dragon, she still felt…human.
She dropped onto the kitchen chair and rested her forehead on the table, closing her eyes. She’d seen her dragon. They’d been so close to touching. She tried to picture her in her mind again with the dark, black, glossy scales and the sharp claws. She slowed her breathing until she sensed something click within her head. There in the distance—faintly, she could see the outline of her dragon, except now she wasn’t black. She seemed pale of color and the shapes of her scales seemed longer, more rounded in shape. The darker dragon was really a figment of her imagination. What she pictured her dragon shape would look like since she’d never actually shifted. Was this dragon her true form? She raced towards her other shape. The closer she drew, the more distant the dragon seemed.
Shoving back from the table with a screech, she stood. As long as she had the shield surrounding her aura, she couldn’t touch magic. She wouldn’t be able to make contact with her dragon shape. She ran her hands over her short hair, her palm brushing against the ruby stud Eoin had given her. Her heart skipped a beat.
Rubies were valuable…
And her neighborhood had many pawnshops.
Screw her apartment and her dreams to move. Nothing would stop her from achieving her true self. She stormed from the apartment building and strode to the closest pawnshop. Pushing inside, she inhaled the stale air. Filled shelves with knick-knacks and electronics crowded the store. At the counter, a familiar pock-marked face grinned at her. “Long time no see.”
In the past, before she opened her shop, she’d used to pawn her garage sale findings frequently to help ends meet. “Hey.” She grinned back. “Been busy with a job.” She set the ruby stud on the counter. “I want to pawn this.”
The owner blew out a long whistle and raised the jewel up to the light. “It’s not a pair?”
“No, just the one.”
He frowned. “Will be hard to sell.”
“I don’t want to sell it, just pawn.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t pay me back then I’m stuck with a single stud.”
She ground her teeth and bit back a sharp retort. “What’s it worth?”
He led her to the jewelry counter and placed the ruby under an ultraviolet light. “It’s not lab grown so that’s a plus.” He set an eyepiece over one eye and examined the ruby. “It’s clear and an excellent shade of red. Where did you get this?”
She bit her bottom lip. “It was a gift.” Would Eoin be hurt? She planned on paying back the pawnshop loan and keeping the earring. She just needed the money
now
. If it broke her curse, she was sure he wouldn’t mind.
“You do realize if this proves to be stolen I have to report you.” The shop owner pinned her down with an expert’s glare.
She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m no cat burglar.” But a dragon had given it to her. Most humans wouldn’t touch dragon treasure. Bad things tend to happen to those who did.
He frowned but set the earring on a scale. “It’s a little over a carat with the setting. I’ll give you fifteen hundred for it.”
Her heart sank. That wasn’t enough. She needed five hundred more. “I need two grand.”
Shaking his head, he held out the ruby. “Find another pawnshop.”
She glanced at the time on her phone and wanted to scream. With her bank account and credit cards, she could manage the rest but she had to hurry. Her savings account wasn’t linked to her debit card so she needed to see a teller. “Fine but we need to fast track this deal in cash. I have to make it to the bank before they close.” She already was in his system so the transaction was quick.
With long strides, she ran the five blocks to her bank, flip-flops and all. The locals must think she was training for sprints the way she ran at least once a week for some stupid reason or another.
Reaching her destination, she slipped into the bank just as the manager strolled toward the entrance with the key. Angie made it to the teller without need of CPR. “I’d like to withdraw everything from my savings account.” She had to stop between words to catch her breath.
The teller eyed her.
Sweat beaded her skin and she shook from the exertion. She looked like she was in withdrawal. She giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth. That wouldn’t help.
The teller asked for ID.
Angie did as she asked and filled out all the proper paper work. “Large bills, please.” It would be easier to carry.
It didn’t take long for the teller to gather the cash into a neat envelope and bid her goodnight, obviously in a hurry to go home.
With more grace, Angie exited the bank’s main lobby and hit their ATM machine with her credit cards. She withdrew the balance to make the witch’s price. God help anyone who tried to mug her. Able to shift or not, she would go dragon on their ass.
The witch did not live within walking distance, so Angie had to catch the bus. Sitting on the hard plastic seats, she stared out the window. The shadows grew darker and longer as she traveled. Maybe she should have called Eoin? He had been instrumental in the discovery of her true nature but she suspected he would insist on paying or refuse to let her work with the witch. He could be pigheaded. This was her decision, her dragon and her life. She needed to see this through on her own.
When the time came, she got off at her stop and walked the rest of the way to the witch’s house. By then the sun had set and the creepy house was veiled in darkness.
Half expecting to see zombies creeping from the ground, Angie quickly made her way to the front door.
Sabrina answered just as Angie rested her knuckles against the wood. The witch still wore her apron and smelled of gingerbread cookies. “Angie, did you decide to accept my offer?”
Angie held out the envelope of cash. “I have the money. Take this curse off me.”
Sabrina gave a surprised laugh. “That was fast.” She led Angie back into her kitchen and began to pull ingredients off the shelf and set them on the cutting board by the boiling cauldron. “It’s not as easy as that. If I knew who had cast the spell, or at least why the curse was cast, this would be much easier.”
Dread settled heavily in Angie’s gut. With heavy feet, she crossed the kitchen closer to Sabrina. “I don’t know any of those answers.” It seemed like her whole life was filled with unanswerable questions. “I’ve always thought of myself as human until a few days ago. A dragon told me he could see that I was shielded from magic. Does that help?”
“Somewhat.” She opened some jars and lined them up in front of her. As she leaned her hands on the cutting board, she stared at Angie. “Why would someone want you to think you were human?”
Angie rubbed the familiar ache in her chest. “So my parents could adopt me.” Why had her dragon parents given her away? Had she been defective? She had no childhood memories except those of her human parents.
“Good enough. We will work with that and I’ll prepare you a counter-spell.” With fast fingers, she pulled out ingredients and threw them in a bowl, grinding the ingredients to dust. She poured the powder into a dissolvable capsule and handed the pill to Angie. “There you go. The answer to your prayers.”
Staring at the pill, Angie was reminded of the wicked witch who had poisoned Snow White’s apple. How desperate was she to trust this perfect stranger? Without a second thought, she swallowed the pill. Pretty desperate. “How long will it take to work?”
“As soon as your body digests it. But don’t shift here. Not inside my house.” She shooed Angie out of the kitchen with her hands. “Go out into the country and try shifting there. By then you should have absorbed my cure. You’ll also have space for your dragon body and you won’t accidentally eat anyone on your first shift.”
The advice seemed sage. Angie hugged Sabrina. “I can’t thank you enough.” She hurried out of the door and back to the bus stop. Screw that, she’d take a taxi straight to Eoin’s house and he could guide her through her first shift.