The Lost Dragon_Bad Alpha Dads Read online

  “No. We’ll discuss the finer genetic points later. First, we have to find Tansy. If not for her, Wingate and the others might have got away with their scheme.”

  Her eyes widened. “Can I fly with you?”

  “We have no choice.” Much as he hated bringing Daphne back into proximity with Charles, he couldn’t risk leaving her alone in the middle of the woods at night. “Stand back by the edge of that cabin over there. Don’t want you to get hurt by a stray burst of sparks. Sometimes I can’t control that. Once I’ve shifted, come over and climb on one of my wings. You’ll find a hollowed recessed area behind them you can sit in.”

  “Wait until I tell Ruby. She’ll be so jealous!” Daphne hurried to the empty cabin he’d pointed to, seemingly eager to take flight. And to think he’d been worried. His daughter was strong—made of much sterner stuff than he’d ever imagined. Once this harrowing day was over, he’d know to look deeper, beyond the giggles and chatter, to the fine young women of character ready to spread their own wings—not literally like his own dragon wings—but their own brand of special.

  He inhaled sharply, ready to shift, when a sudden realization hit. There was the matter of his clothes—and the lack thereof, when he shifted back to human form. “Wait a minute,” he called out.

  Daphne turned and regarded him with one brow quirked.

  “Once I catch up to them, I’ll stop nearby. When I do, hop down and take cover somewhere. And don’t look.”

  She giggled. “So you can get dressed again?”

  “Glad you’re amused. Just mind me, okay? Don’t turn around until I give the word.” Let her believe modesty was the only issue. She’d been through enough, he wouldn’t traumatize her further by watching him toast Charlie once he caught up with the bastard.

  Her face grew solemn and timid. “Yes, sir.”

  Drake didn’t realize until that moment how much he hated his daughters addressing him as sir. He’d have to find a way to lighten up. Just because he ordered around employees, didn’t mean he should use the same authoritarian voice with his girls. Something else he’d have to work on when life returned to normal.

  Skin morphed to scales, and his body ignited with heat as it expanded to more than ten times its size. With his talons, Drake painstakingly gathered his strewn clothes and tucked them beneath his wing. “Ready?” he asked, in a deep, lumbering tone that sparked and crackled.

  “Ready.” She hurried to him, and he noted with relief that she appeared awed—but in a that’s-so-cool kind of way versus a this-is-monstrous way. In no time, Daphne scrambled onto his left wing and tucked herself in as a passenger. She patted his scales, which he took as a go signal.

  At once, he took flight. How much time had lapsed since Charles absconded with Tansy? Maybe five or ten minutes? He’d catch up. There was only one road out of Angel Falls. His biggest concern was that another vehicle would pass by and he’d have to waste time taking cover until the coast cleared. Wingate and Charles had both seen his dragon, but who’d believe two criminals claiming to be thwarted by a dragon? So far, containment of his secret wasn’t an issue and he aimed to keep it under wraps.

  Drake soared above the treetops and easily spotted headlight beams snaking down the mountain. About eight miles ahead, he figured. Best of all, not another vehicle or residence in sight. Surging forward, melding with the night, his heart once again drummed a prayer. This time it wasn’t for Daphne, it was for Tansy. Hang on, my love. I’m coming for you.

  In less than a dozen heartbeats, he hovered over the sedan and bellowed a fiery warning. “Stop, Charlie. This is your only chance to escape with your life.”

  The sedan accelerated, taking S turns with a dangerous speed that whiplashed its metal frame like a pinball racing downward to death. Drake stayed with the sedan and breathed a fireball overhead, enough to singe the vehicle’s roof, but not enough to blow it up in flames. If only Charles occupied the vehicle, he’d have no hesitation. But Tansy would perish in those same flames, so it was out of the question.

  They’d almost reached the bottom of the mountain. In about five miles, the county road would wind into the small community of Booger Hollow. Someone might be awake and witness the strange sight of a dragon flying through their town. He’d have to make a strategic move in minutes. But what? Forcibly halting the sedan might result in a wreck and endanger Tansy’s life. He weighed a grim choice. Crash the sedan—or do nothing and hope that Charlie would release Tansy on his own, when or if the man ever came to his senses.

  And there was Daphne to consider as well. No doubt he faced severe injury of his own by throwing his body in front of the car, but that was a minor matter.

  Decision made, Drake slowed, allowing the sedan to momentarily slip away. He abruptly landed on the side of the road. Adam wouldn’t know where to find her now. “Get out, Daphne,” he called over his shoulder. “Take cover and I’ll be back for you shortly.”

  Surprisingly, she obeyed without protest, slipping behind a copse of pines by the roadside.

  Drake took flight, back in pursuit. Hang on, my love. I’m coming for you.

  Chapter Nine

  My love.

  Despite barreling down a mountain at the complete mercy of a traitor, Drake’s whispers penetrated the fog of panic that shrouded Tansy’s mind. Calm descended, and with it, clarity.

  She faced Charles. “Your best hope for escaping with your life is to pull over now and let me go.”

  “My life?” He snorted. “It won’t be worth living if I do that. Think I’m going to just give up and go to prison for a couple decades?” He shot her a speculative glance. “My guess is that Drake cares for you more than you’re letting on. I still have a chance to escape with enough money to live on some tropical beach in a third world country.”

  Another flame erupted above the vehicle, followed by a blast of heat. “He’s back. Like I knew he would be. Last chance to do the right thing, Charles.”

  White-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel and his face was set in grim determination. “What kind of demon is Evers?” Charles muttered.

  “Drake’s not a demon, he’s a dragon. You can’t possibly win this fight.” Surely, the man wasn’t that stupid, was he?

  “Impossible Must be some kind of optical illusion the two of you cooked up. After all, you’re a damn witch.”

  “So you believe in witches but not dragons?” she countered.

  “Damn straight I do. My grandmother had the touch, used to be a high priestess.”

  “Around here? Would I know her?” She’d once read that the best way to get out of a dangerous situation was to keep the perpetrator talking . . . no, wait. She’d also read conflicting advice that the best way to handle being taken hostage was to remain silent and not engage the captor.

  Charles didn’t bother responding to the conversational bait anyway. The road flattened and they rapidly approached Booger Hollow. What was his end game? Ride until they were out of gas? She snuck a peak at the fuel tank. Three-quarters full. Drake would die of exhaustion before dawn. Even under cover of darkness, Drake took a huge risk riding low and following them.

  For the last two miles, there hadn’t been even the barest flicker of fire, but Tansy sensed him flying overhead—calculating and omniscient. But there was nothing he could do while she remained trapped in the car. He had the power to engulf it in flames and kill the man who threatened his children, and yet he didn’t because to do so would mean her own death.

  And he loved her.

  She had to save herself. And prevent Drake from some desperate, foolish action like flinging his own body against the car to stop Charles. She’d never have a better chance than now. The road was deserted and the land to her right was a huge, flat clearing.

  Tansy lunged her body sideways, gripped the steering wheel, and yanked it to the right, throwing the full weight of her body into the turn.

  Tires squealed, almost drowning out Charles’ tirade. “What the hell . . . you damn witch . .
.” Scalding pain radiated from her scalp as he grabbed a fistful of hair and tried to thrust her away. The sedan spun and then flipped. The world went topsy turvy and, for a second, she hung in midair before gravity exerted its inevitable force. The vehicle slid on its side with a sickening scrape of crushed metal and broken glass.

  The crash knocked the wind out of her r and she struggled to catch her breath. In a daze, she found herself half-lying atop Charles. Through her shock, she noted blood and bits of glass shards covered the left side of his face. He winced, grasping his left shoulder.

  “Get off me, bitch.” He struggled to sit up, kneeing her in the gut.

  The pain seared through her numbed shock, bringing her predicament into crystalline focus. She huddled into a ball as Charles raised himself up to the passenger window. With his good arm he yanked her and dragged her out with him. His hold broke as she fell to her knees on the cold, hard ground and then cautiously rose to her feet, relieved to discover she’d escaped the crash with no major injury.

  That relief was short-lived when the acrid scent of diesel smoke arose. Wisps of fire erupted from the engine. Was the car about to explode?

  Again, bruising fingers curled around her forearm, leaving her no choice but to stumble alongside Charles as he loped across the field, grunting in pain, but unwilling to release his hold on her arm and admit defeat.

  An unnatural gale of wind whooshed across the clearing, flattening grass and weeds in its massive wake. A roar of flapping wings sounded as a huge form, an almost indistinguishable mass of black-on-black in the night sky, flew into view. Drake was almost upon them before the crimson scales on his throat shone like the rays of a setting sun.

  Charles shrieked, and yet he still he didn’t relinquish his iron hold. Damn him. Even in his terror, Charles’ desperation to use her as a bargaining chip never wavered.

  “That you, Drake? You can’t take me out without hurting your girlfriend here.” Charles’ grip shifted from her forearm to a chokehold on her neck.

  In a giant pop of air and smoke, Drake stood before them, his dark eyes lit with sparks of fire dancing in the pupils. He stepped forward, anger emanating from him in waves of heat. “Let her go.”

  “Not until I have my money.” With his free hand, Charles ground his fist in her lower back. “I have a gun. Take another step and I’ll shoot her.”

  Liar. She futilely kicked at his shins and tried to speak past the arm clamped against her windpipe. She couldn’t even shake her head no to refute his claim.

  Drake abruptly lowered to his knees and picked something off the ground.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Charles rasped. “Stand and put your hands up where I can see them.”

  “Take it easy.” Drake slowly stood. “You’ll get your money. And to show my good faith, I brought along part of your original ransom demand.”

  He held out a hand and uncurled the fingers tucked into his palm. A large round orb glowed in his hand like a compressed, faceted ball of fire.

  The Heart of Courage ruby.

  Tansy alone knew its value was far more than the millions of dollars it could go for at auction. The gem was priceless. Its beauty contained the secret power to increase Drake’s dragon tenfold—a relic passed down through generations of Evers men. An ancestral heirloom bestowed by a Chinese Emperor in a forgotten era when men worshipped the dragons and presented them with majestic gifts for their hidden lairs.

  “Catch it.”

  Drake tossed the ruby in the air where it glowed like a burning chunk of coal.

  “What the . . .”

  The iron band pressing against her throat slackened. Just enough for her to maneuver her head a few inches. Tansy opened her mouth and bit down into his flesh. Hard.

  Charles screamed, a guttural wail that rang in her ears. His hold released, and she gulped in oxygen as she dropped to her knees.

  Drake was immediately upon them. He slammed into Charles, knocking him to the ground in one fell swoop. Tansy rolled away from the fray, wincing as Drake landed two solid punches at Charles.

  “Stop it,” she ordered. “The man’s out cold.”

  “Bastard. He needs killing.” But Drake stopped his assault and rolled off the unconscious man. “Bring me my belt. It’s over there with my other clothes.”

  She hurried to find it. The sooner Charles was restrained, the quicker this would end. “Where’s Daphne?” she called over her shoulder as she swooped up his shirt, boxers and jeans along with the belt. “Is she okay?”

  “Down the road about a quarter mile. She’s fine. No thanks to this son of a bitch.”

  Drake rolled Charles onto his stomach and made short work of looping the belt though the man’s hands, binding them tightly behind his back. Drake rose, and she silently thrust his clothes at him.

  He leaned in, scrutinizing her face. “You’re injured.”

  “I am?”

  “You’ve got a nasty head wound.” He ran a hand down her face and showed her his fingers that were slick with her blood. No wonder she felt so light-headed, it wasn’t due to shock at all.

  “You need a doctor to look at this.”

  “I’m fine,” she scoffed. “We’ve more pressing matters. Let’s get Daphne and then call the police to round up Charles and Adam.”

  “Bossy as usual.” But Drake said it with grin as he quickly dressed. “We’ll play it your way, but then you will see a doctor.”

  “There was another man that arrived with Charles. . . I think, well, I’m pretty sure, actually, that I killed him.”

  And simple as that, she was back at the scene. Saw the man raise his gun, felt the vibration of her own gun as she shot off a round, heard the unmistakable pop and then the warmth and tingle in her palm before she dropped the weapon—the man lying on the ground, still as a lump of clay, blood seeping from his chest wound.

  So much blood.

  A languid warmth enveloped her mind and body and, at last, she slipped into its enticing promise of rest.

  Mhmm . . . Tansy stretched, luxuriating in the soft warmth of her cozy bed. A fire crackled from the hearth and the scent of smoked wood soothed her peaceful wakening. She turned to her side and stared into the burning logs as they spit and sparked behind the fireplace screen. Even as a child, she’d sit before a fire for hours, mesmerized by its elemental energy.

  Candles glowed on the mantel and the tantalizing odor of freshly-cooked bread and butter wafted from the kitchen. Had she died and slipped into Summerland? Tansy wiggled her toes in delightful laziness, and then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  What the hell?

  One hand flew to the large bandage over her left temple at the same moment she registered the tight discomfort of stitches beneath the dressing. Other aches and pains presented themselves, all clamoring for attention—a bruised thigh, a jagged cut on her left arm the length of a witches’ wand, and a dull throbbing in her left ankle.

  With the niggling pain, also came the memory of how they were acquired. After collecting Daphne and getting her safely ensconced at his estate, Drake had insisted on taking her to the emergency room for stitches and driving her home.

  Clanking sounded from the kitchen, as if someone was rummaging through her silverware. “Who’s there?” she called, throwing back the down comforter. Surely Drake hadn’t stayed with her all night?

  He appeared in the doorway holding a tray with two cups of tea and croissants. She sucked in her breath at the sight of him in her bedroom. He filled the space with a masculine aura that made her toes curl in excitement.

  “The patient awakens at last,” he pronounced with a booming voice and sexy grin. “I was beginning to think the doctor had overdone the pain pill dosage.”

  She sat up in bed, fluffing a pillow against the headboard and smoothing down her modest flannel gown. Ugh. How unsexy could she get? It’d been too long since she’d had a reason to shop for sexy lingerie.

  Drake sat on the edge of the bed and hande
d her a buttered croissant on a paper towel. “For you.”

  “A woman could get used to this,” she joked. Tansy bit into the buttery goodness and realized she was starving. How long had it been since her last meal? With a sip of chamomile and licorice tea, she swallowed the delicious confection.

  “Shouldn’t you be with your girls? How’s Daphne this morning?”

  “They’re doing remarkable. I called my brother and his wife to come stay with me a couple weeks. Just until I get everything sorted. They arrived an hour ago and are keeping an eye on the twins. My first order of business today is to hire an all new security team.”

  “I can help with that,” she offered. “Vet them for trustworthiness.” A surge of embarrassment surged from her scalp to her toes. Why’d she have to go and volunteer assistance? Drake might fear she was going to start clinging to him, that she’d incorrectly presumed she was back in his life.

  Wrong. He’d hired her for a job and the assignment was successfully completed. End of story. Although . . . he’d called her my love last night. Probably just the heat of the moment in extraordinary circumstances.

  Drake nodded thoughtfully, considering her offer to vet the staff. “An excellent idea. I’ll pay for your time, of course. Which reminds me. I left a generous check for you on the kitchen table. Enough money so that you’ll never have to accept another locator assignment from the cops or anyone else. Unless, of course, it’s something you enjoy doing.”

  “Enjoy isn’t the word I’d use. These things don’t always end well. But it is . . . fulfilling when victims are found alive and well.” She took another sip of the warm tea. Just how much had Drake paid for her services? If it was too much, she’d refuse payment. It didn’t set right with Tansy to use her talents for extraordinary material gain. Her needs were simple.

  Drake took her hand in his and the heat from his touch radiated through her body. Flustered, she sipped more tea. “Did you stay here all night?”

  “Of course. Least I could do. How can I ever thank you enough for saving Daphne? And forcing the car off the road, putting yourself at risk, went beyond what you signed up for.”