The Lost Dragon_Bad Alpha Dads Page 3

  He sighed. “If you must.”

  “While I’m doing this, fetch some personal effects of the kidnapper. Best to know what we’re dealing with.”

  His impatience was palpable, but she let it roll off her like water on a duck. If Daphne were hers, she’d also be in a fever to race to her side. He led her to a small library filled with shelves of old leather-bound books and a leather recliner with a small table housing an atlas globe and a Tiffany lamp.

  “I suppose you’ll want candles,” he said crisply, striding over to a credenza.

  “That would be helpful.”

  She settled in the chair as he produced a Gothic-looking candle stand and a brass lighter. He set the items on the table and quirked a brow. “Anything else? Eye of newt, or salamander tongue, perhaps?”

  “Pieces of dragon scale or a bit of dragon talon would do nicely, thank you.”

  His jaw slackened, and uncertainty danced in his dark eyes. “You’re not serious—are you?”

  She kept her face straight, although amusement bubbled in her chest. “That and the live, beating heart of a dragon to throw into my cauldron would work quite nicely.”

  She expected, if not a laugh, then a rueful smile. Instead, Drake surprised her. “If it would bring back my daughter . . . I’ll leave you to it then.”

  Any part of a dragon produced powerful magic, it was so rare and imbued with the strength of the fire element. But she’d only been teasing Drake. Tansy blinked back an unexpected moistening of her eyes. Drake was a hard man with a thick armor of reserve, but when he loved, he loved deeply. If only he’d loved her enough way back when.

  Stop this foolishness.

  She was hardly the type of woman to indulge in regrets. Her empathy for the missing Daphne had dampened her normal spirits, that’s all. Resolutely, Tansy flipped on the lighter and lit the candles. They weren’t a necessity, but staring into a flame always helped her focus and calmed her energy to better connect with the missing. Tansy held her wrists to her nose and breathed in Daphne’s perfume. The scent was light but surprisingly sophisticated for a teenager—baby talc blended with a sweet, creamy vanilla followed by middle notes of violet and pepper, and ending with a bottom note of white musk.

  Her heart pinched with a fierce loneliness such as she’d never experienced—and she was well-acquainted with the occasional sorrows of a solitary life. Daphne still mourned, that was evident. Tansy held the red locks between her palms. Betrayal . . . regret . . . guilt . . . disappointment . . . her soul read each of Daphne’s emotions. Tansy felt as though she could reach out and touch the missing girl. Whoever had her, held Daphne against her will. The child had fallen for a smooth talker alright.

  Daphne needed her.

  A light knock sounded at the door and Drake entered, holding a handful of papers. “It appears that Wingate thoroughly cleaned out his office. I pulled these papers from a file. Can you work with his signature?”

  “Maybe.” Tansy ran an index finger over the man’s precise penmanship. “Hmm . . . not getting a whole lot. Just a general impression that he’s cold and a stickler for details. Doubtful he experienced strong emotions signing business papers.”

  Drake slapped the rest of the papers against his thighs. “Damn. That wasn’t helpful.”

  “I never promised it would be. I offer no guarantees in my line of work.”

  “Of course, you don’t,” he muttered, heading for the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Where? I thought we agreed there was nothing more to be done until nighttime.”

  “Soon as my staff finishes stuffing cash bags, we’re going to Ahern Creek.”

  “But—”

  “We’re not going to confront them yet. Just get a feel of the land.”

  “Could be risky if they spot us.”

  “Then we’ll be careful.”

  Drake stopped abruptly, facing her and Tansy gasped. His dark eyes smoldered like banked embers and wisps of red fire licked inside the black pupils. “I can’t sit around and wait while my daughter’s held captive.”

  “Okay. Take it easy. We’ll do a quick drive by. But we’re not going in your Hummer. Too ostentatious. You’d stick out too much. We’ll go in my truck.”

  He didn’t like it, but gave a curt nod of consent. “I suppose you’re right,” he added ungraciously.

  “I usually am,” she agreed. Just wait until Drake learned he wasn’t going to be the driver either.

  Chapter Four

  “Why can’t I drive?” he asked, reluctantly buckling his seatbelt. Bossy witch.

  “Because it’s my truck. You might not have noticed, but the angrier you get, the faster you drive. It’ll be safer this way.”

  “I’m a perfectly capable driver, no matter the circumstance,” he mumbled. He couldn’t argue with Tansy’s logic any more than that, though. Truth was, driving provided a distraction from his tumbling thoughts. Where was Daphne at this very moment? Had Wingate physically harmed her? She must be so scared and confused.

  “Talk to me,” he suddenly demanded.

  “About what?”

  “Anything. What did you think of Ruby? Did she tell you anything she didn’t tell me?”

  “I merely probed about Daphne’s recent behavior. Apparently, she’s been a bit more nervous and unusually secretive the past few weeks. You hadn’t noticed?”

  Guilt slashed through him. “I’m busy. I run a number of enterprises across the world.”

  Tansy silently stared ahead at the road, and her silence irked. “I provide both girls with excellent tutors and see to their every need. One day, I’ll pass on everything I’ve built to them. I rarely even travel these days, just so I can be around if they need me.”

  “Sounds to me as though you treat the twins like investments. You provide them with material advantages and keep them closely guarded, imagining that one day they’ll magically transform into capable adults who will maintain the empire you’ve created.”

  That stung. “Why is it that people with no children act as though they’re experts in raising them?”

  Tansy’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What makes you think I don’t have experience?”

  Drake sought to remember everything on Tansy’s dossier he’d had his security team draw up this morning. In their haste, had they missed some pertinent information? The dossier claimed she’d divorced over ten years ago and had no immediate family.

  “If you’re claiming that spending time with nieces and nephews count, I can assure it’s nothing like raising your own—”

  “I had a son.”

  Her words dropped heavy and thick, charging the car’s interior with gloom. “Had?” he gently probed.

  Tansy didn’t answer right away, and Drake mentally flayed himself for the unintentional faux pas.

  “His name was Everett. He died at age eighteen months from meningitis.”

  Damn. What could he say? Tansy had kept her tone and face carefully neutral, but he felt the pain that lay beneath the calm veneer. Instead of trying to speak, he laid a hand on her shoulder. Tansy’s muscles were taught underneath his palm, and without thinking, he massaged her right shoulder and the back of her neck. Gradually, the stiffness in her shoulders relaxed, and she drew a deep breath.

  “I may not have experience with teenage girls, but I do know something of the bond between a parent and their child.”

  He withdrew his hand. “I didn’t realize . . . but if you’re saying I haven’t bonded with my girls, you’d be wrong. They were an unexpected surprise, and I’ll admit it took some getting used to, but I care deeply for them.”

  “Do they know that?” she asked softly.

  “Of course they do.” Drake bristled at her implied criticism. “I’ve told them over and over that I’m here for them, that I’d provide college and anything else they need.”

  Tansy shook her head. “What may be obvious to you might not be obvious to children grieving over their mother and thrust into a new environme
nt.”

  “I hired grief counselors.”

  “Not the same.”

  “No one else dares criticize me the way you do. I’d forgotten how harsh you can be.”

  “Maybe your employees are too intimidated to say anything they think you don’t want to hear,” she countered. “I don’t mean to be unkind, but in the long run, honesty is its own form of kindness.”

  Humph. Had he really asked her to talk to him during the drive? Big mistake. Same old Tansy—direct and uncomfortably correct in her assessments. Especially when it came to him. “Maybe a little small talk is in order,” he suggested.

  “You first.”

  Drake struggled, then admitted defeat. Who cared about the weather or the local football team when a family member was in jeopardy? “Seems I can’t. Not right now.”

  “Then tell me about Daphne. Do she and Ruby have similar personalities?”

  “Not at all.” Worry took a temporary backseat as he described the twins. “Daphne is quieter, more serious. It takes time before she warms up to people and makes friends. Ruby, on the other hand, is a mess. Always asking questions, always the one challenging me on matters like curfew and going to parties. Never thought Daphne would be the one to cause trouble.”

  “You know what they say about the quiet ones. Sounds as though Daphne’s shyness made her all the more susceptible to a man’s attention.”

  He hadn’t thought of it like that, but it made sense. If he’d paid Daphne more attention, maybe she wouldn’t have gone seeking affection from the first man to sweet-talk her. Too bad the girls didn’t have their mom, someone they could talk to and get advice from.

  “I bet you were a wonderful mother,” he blurted.

  Tansy blinked at the wet film forming over her sky-blue eyes and cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  Drake took her hand and squeezed it, remembering that Tansy had a softer side, too. One that she often hid from others. And if time had made her a little tougher, a little more cynical, then he could understand that. You didn’t suffer tragedies and not have it change your essence.

  They settled into a companionable silence as they drove past acres of crop fields and pristine woodland untouched by modern man. Everything was going to be fine. By tonight, Daphne would be back home in her own bed and hopefully untraumatized by Wingate’s abduction. Probably be best if he looked into hiring a counselor again, just to be on the safe side. He stole a curious glance at Tansy. The witch had a point, as uncomfortable as it was to acknowledge. Time he opened up more to the twins and made sure they understood they were his world now.

  Gradually, he sensed a change in the air. Tansy squinted at the road ahead, her mouth a grim, straight line.

  “What is it?” he demanded.

  “It may be nothing.”

  “Or it may be something. Spit it out.”

  “According to my calculations, we’re within a few miles of Ahern’s Creek. But instead of feeling closer to Daphne, the connection is fainter.”

  He felt the blood drain from his face. “Are you saying . . .” He couldn’t speak past the lump of dread clogging his throat.

  “She may have been moved. Sometimes kidnappers will shift where they hold someone, in case they’re being followed.”

  His hands fisted into balls on top of his lap and his lungs scorched with fire. When he found Wingate, he was going to make the bastard pay for the ordeal he’d put them all through.

  Tansy slowed her vehicle and parked in a copse of pines, shielding the car from the road. “It’s been a few years since we were together. Do you still have excellent eyesight?”

  “Of course.” He reached in the backseat and pulled out a pair of binoculars he’d tossed there earlier. At the faint upturn of her lips, he murmured, “My night vision is sharper than my day vision, so I brought them just in case.”

  “Good. From here, we should search on foot for a deserted cabin or campground.”

  Drake pulled open one side of his fleeced vest, and from its inner pocket, he withdrew a nine-mm handgun. “Brought this, too, just in case.”

  “Don’t be too trigger-happy,” Tansy warned. “Your girls don’t need to you to end up dead or in prison.”

  “Not happening,” he answered, stepping out of the car. Wingate was the one in trouble here, not him. Drake opened his senses, sniffing the cool mountain breeze that smelled of dead leaves, pine, and rich loam. Not even a hint of campfire smoke. The air came alive with sound—rustling leaves, wind whistling though treetops, animals scurrying along the undergrowth. But no human voices. He scanned the barren field. Nothing in sight.

  He turned to Tansy. “Do you sense anything?”

  She pointed to his right. “Focus your search in that direction.”

  Drake tucked his gun back into his vest and strode to the nearest climbable tree. Retractable talons sprouted from his fingertips and in one giant leap he flew to the treetop and used the talons to secure a landing—totally bypassing the need to scramble up the rough bark of the oak. From the perch, he lifted his binoculars in the direction Tansy mentioned.

  There! A rundown log cabin was nestled in a copse of pines. “I’m coming for you, Daphne,” he whispered. “And you too, Wingate.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’m coming with you,” Tansy insisted.

  “Hell, no. I paid you to locate my daughter, not help me face down her abductor. Get back in the car.”

  She crossed her fingers behind her back. “If Daphne’s not there, I need to go in the cabin and get a sense of where she might be.” Tansy knew full well that Daphne wasn’t in that cabin. Despite her earlier assurances to Drake, she feared for the girl’s life. To lose such a strong connection was bad news. Finding a body sometimes happened in her work with police, but it never failed to break her heart. How much more would it hurt to witness Drake lose a daughter?

  “It’s at least a three-mile hike,” he warned.

  “I’m up for it.”

  Drake placed his hands on his hips and frowned as he glanced skyward. The setting sun still cast coral rays, resulting in long shadows over the clearing.

  “Too early to fly,” she said, guessing his intention. Even trekking through woodlands, the trees and shrubs were too dense for a large dragon to fly low, hoping to keep off the radar of humans.

  “Let’s get a move on, then.” Drake set off at a brisk clip, and she half-jogged alongside him to keep up with his pace. They didn’t speak—not that she had breath enough to converse, anyway. Dried leaves, weeds, and twigs snapped and crackled under their feet. Wind whistled through the treetops, and the air seemed to cool by the minute. Her lungs burned, and she abruptly stopped, placing both hands on her knees and gulping oxygen.

  “Rest a minute while I check our direction,” Drake offered. Tansy plopped on her ass and watched as he leapt to the top of another oak to spot the cabin again. “We’re a little over halfway there,” he announced, scrambling down the tree.

  “G-good,” she managed to sputter in between large gulps of air.

  He approached, taking in her pathetic display of non-athletic prowess. “I may not be able to fly right now, but I could carry you on my back the rest of the way.”

  “That f-far?”

  “Evidently, you don’t remember my strength. Even in human form, I could carry you ten miles, and not get fatigued.”

  She slowly rose and dusted off her jeans. “Now you tell me.”

  He flashed a brief grin that almost took away what little breath she had left. This was the Drake who had rocked her world years ago, back in the early, exciting days of their love. Before matters like duty and pride and resentment overshadowed their relationship. And, if she were being honest, some of the blame was her own.

  Drake bent over and pointed at his back. “Hop on.”

  Glad that he couldn’t see the blush that heated her face, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hitched her legs near his waist. Drake’s strong arms looped under her th
ighs, securing her against him as he straightened.

  Without a word, he strode forth, his pace unaltered. She felt awkward and self-conscious at first, but as the minutes trickled by, she gave herself permission to enjoy the feel of his muscular body beneath her. By degrees, Tansy leaned into his bulk and felt the warmth of his skin even through his jacket. It was like snuggling against an electric heating pad. She’d forgotten the unusually high temperature of his skin, a trait he’d once told her that all dragons shared.

  She inhaled his unique masculine scent that hinted of smoked firewood. Their intimate position crowded her mind with memories of their naked bodies pressed against one another. For one wild moment, she wanted to kiss the nape of his neck and run her fingers through his dark hair, which fluttered backward in the wind and feathered her face.

  It seemed no time at all before Drake stopped. She slid off his back and cleared her throat. “Are we there yet?”

  He pointed, and she followed his gaze. The ramshackle hut was almost faded into the shadows of the tree line, a boxy slash in the darkness. She closed her eyes and opened her senses, but felt no pulse of living energy. “It’s empty.”

  Anger, with a heavy dose of fear, emanated in waves beside her. “Where’s he taken her now?” His words were a deep grumble, and a wisp of smoke encircled his face.

  “We’ll find out,” she assured him, hoping she spoke the truth.

  “You stay here. I’m circling around to the back of the cabin to check it out. I’ll wave you in when I’m sure it’s safe.”

  He thrust the binoculars into her hands, and before she could even voice agreement or put up a fight, Drake vanished into the thick shadows. Tansy hunched down under a shrub and waited.

  And waited.

  The day grew darker, colder. To hell with waiting like a scared bunny rabbit hiding under a shrub. No one was in the cabin. She was sure of it. And even if there was, Drake shouldn’t face the unknown alone.

  “Aarghhh!”

  A sudden roar rumbled through the woods like thunder. Drake! His anguish ripped through her like a dagger, and she ran across the clearing in a fever to comfort him. Smoke curled through the broken window panes and the open front door. Within ten yards of the cabin, a wave of heat nearly knocked her to her knees. Resolutely, she scrambled to her feet and rushed through the door.