Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4) (9 page)

T
he men stared at him
, too afraid to even scramble to their feet. He eyed their guns, like black snakes in the dirt. He lifted them both in the air with one motion of his hand and then tied them both neatly in knots. Then, with a wave of his hand, he propelled them into the forest.

The men’s fear was palpable now, delicious to his senses. They knew he was something more than human now. He would make them regret ever seeing his face.

He took another step forward just as the door opened behind him and Bridget came running out. She grabbed his arm. “Stop it. They’re just humans. Let them go.”

He gave her a look like he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “They aimed a weapon at you.”

‘They wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“What? They would have raped you,” he said irritably. “And I’m going to make sure they can’t do that to anyone else.”

“We wouldn’t, honest,” the older one blubbered. “We was just teasing. We’d have taken her back to the police, safe and sound.”

“Liar!” Alistair said, taking a step forward, all too aware of the way Bridget was tugging at his arm, trying to pull him back. “You pointed a gun at my mate. You’re going to die.”

She sighed. “Alistair, not everyone who wrongs you needs to die.”

“Fine,” he quipped. “Everyone who wrongs
you
needs to die.”

She sighed, and with one hard pull, he finally stopped and faced her. He kept the men frozen with the invisible energy he controlled with his mind. It was as strong and clear as diamond, and they wouldn’t break it until he wanted them to.

“I know there’s another way to take care of this,” she said. “Being needlessly cruel won’t help us with our goals. And I know you aren’t the villain you keep trying to be. I know you can’t just kill someone and not feel bad about it.”

“I wouldn’t feel bad about it,” he snapped. But maybe she was right. Damn. Could he actually feel guilty about something like that? He took a hesitant step back. “Fine. I’ll deal with it another way,” he grumbled as he walked over to the guys, something unintelligible about people trying to steal his woman.

He knelt in front of them, enjoying their frozen expressions. “You know I’m not like anything you’ve ever seen. Nod if you understand.”

They both did.

“Great. Then know this. I can hear your thoughts. I can watch you whenever I want.” Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, but whatever. “And if you ever think of doing something like this again, if you ever try to harm another person again, you’ll see what I’m really capable of.” Then Alistair tightened his grip on the older one’s throat. “And if you or your partner even
think
of her again, ever, you’re dead.”

The man gasped while nodding, and Alistair released him. “Get out of here.” He watched them scramble to their feet, shaking visibly, and shouted after them. “And if you tell anyone you’ve seen us, you’re dead! Anything I don’t like, you’re dead!” Just to make his point, he waved his hand, launching their broken guns at them and hitting them in the back, enjoying the way they stumbled.

When they’d disappeared in the forest and he heard the start of whatever vehicle they’d been driving, he smiled in satisfaction.

Nothing like making someone nearly pee themselves for bothering you.

He saw Bridget standing a few steps behind him, shaking her head. “I don’t get why you get so insane about me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, walking to the door and holding it open so she could go inside.

“I mean, it’s like you don’t have feelings for me. Even the physicality we’ve had, you made it clear it was just to show me a good time. To have fun because maybe there’s attraction.”

“There is definitely attraction,” he said.

“But your reaction to someone threatening me, it’s just really unreasonable. I mean disproportionate.”

“What is the appropriate response to someone aiming a weapon at my business partner?”

Her expression shuttered. “Business partner?”

“Yes,” he said, knowing he was a coward for not saying more. But how could he tell her about his feelings? That would only be selfish, considering he knew he wasn’t ready for the type of life she deserved.

She sighed. “You get that jealous over a
business partner
? You threaten to kill people for just thinking about them?” She shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

She walked inside and into the kitchen, and he stood there trying to figure out what to say.

“I… I’ve never had a partner,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I just know I want to protect you. Yes, maybe it’s crazy. Maybe you make me feel crazy. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest,” she said. “How do you feel about me?” She leaned on the kitchen doorway, and he felt his heart skip a beat at how right it felt to share a home with her. Even one as humble as this.

Even though it was nothing like he’d ever wanted before.

But if he admitted how he was feeling and it was just an odd reaction to being free or them being stuck together and ended up breaking her heart, he’d never forgive himself. It was best to downplay it until he truly figured it out.

Plus, he didn’t feel anything romantic from her. She was digging into his feelings but wasn’t sharing any of her own.

“I’m attracted to you, obviously,” he said.

“Go on.”

“And I’m your friend, which is saying something because I’ve never had many true ones.”

“Is that it?” she asked.

“And I suppose I do want to kill anyone who looks at you. Is that normal friend behavior?”

“No,” she answered.

“Damn,” he said, slumping on the couch. “I don’t know, then.” He gave her a haggard look. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. Last night was amazing. One of the best of my life. But I don’t know where this is going. And the feelings you’re asking about? I don’t know if I’m capable of them. I can feel anger, jealousy, but those aren’t noble emotions.”

She sat on a chair she’d pulled in from the kitchen. “I have a crush on you,” she said flatly.

“A what?”

“A crush,” she said. “I like you. And I think you like me… more than you want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that we’re too different. You’re a human, and a good one. I’m a dragon. A shallow, stupid one who seeks his own interests.”

“That’s funny, because since I’ve known you, you’ve been watching out for others’ interests. Like me and Scrangey.”

“I need you,” he said.

She flinched slightly but recovered. “And Scrangey?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his knees, still trying to get rid of the lingering stress of her being in danger. Was this what having a mate meant? Feeling like you were going to have a heart attack at any moment if someone threatened them?

If so, he wasn’t sure he wanted to have any part of it. It was too intense.

So he changed the subject. “They had a poster with your employee badge on it. Looks like you’re the one who is gonna need to change your appearance, unless you have powers I don’t know about.”

“No powers that I know of,” she said glumly. “Except I’m kind of good at restraining a certain dragon.” Her eyes twinkled, and he felt himself relax. “Thanks for defending me.”

“Thanks for stopping me,” he said and meant it. No one had ever cared about his morals before. His soul’s welfare. Perhaps all of this was happening because he truly had found a good friend for the first time.

But did people usually want to have sex with their good friends?

“I guess we should head out and find a new place,” she said. “And probably a salon along the way.” She twirled her hair pensively. “I guess it was time for a cut anyway.”

He frowned. He didn’t want to change anything about her, but if it would help her stay safe… “Okay. I’ll get started packing, and we’ll head out. You look online for our next place.”

“Sure.”

But as they got up to do their different tasks, he could still feel the awkwardness between them. No matter what, last night they’d been one.

Nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

B
ridget had
to grin at how protective Alistair had been throughout her haircut.

It was like every little snip was a personal insult to him, and the male hairdresser had seemed practically ready to quit until Bridget begged him and promised him a huge tip.

It had been a long time since Bridget had been able to care about her hair, so she didn’t mind getting the cut and the highlights she would need to look different from her picture. Secretly, she was a little bit excited about what Alistair’s reaction would be when he saw her. Kind of a Cinderella moment maybe.

Right now he was sulking in the chair next to her, flipping through a magazine while muttering under his breath.

“We really ought to get your hair cut while we’re waiting,” she said, sitting down and trying not to laugh at Alistair’s confused look at her foils.

“No,” he said. “I like my hair how it is. It’s beautiful.” The hairdresser snorted, and Alistair shot him a glare.

“It is.” Bridget agreed. “But you know, it might just be safer if we didn’t stand out.”

Alistair stared in the mirror thoughtfully. It was the same argument she’d used before that had no effect on him, but this time, he appeared resigned. He folded his arms and sat back. “Very well, serf, cut my hair.”

“Serf?” the hairdresser asked, lip curling.

“I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “Please, please excuse my friend here. He’s… odd.”

“Fine,” the hairdresser said, rolling his eyes and bringing his kit over. “There’s no one here in this tiny town anyway. Might as well take what I can get.” He ran his hands through Alistair’s hair, and the dragon jumped, pinning the man behind him with a fiery glare in the mirror.

Bridget wondered what it was that made Alistair finally willing to cut it. She also felt she would kind of miss it.

His eyes met hers, mercurial. “Are you sure you want me to cut it?”

“It can always grow back.”

“What if I’m not as pretty after?” he muttered.

She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be pretty.”

He slumped but allowed the man to wash and cut his hair. Not too short, just layered so it brushed his face and hit just above his shoulders. He didn’t look much different to her overall, but he would stand out a lot less with hair that could be tucked up under a cap.

Alistair seemed fine with the outcome and had the hairdresser give him some pins to hold it back and a few bands to put it into a low ponytail.

Bridget wondered what was going through his head as he leaned over and stared into the mirror, trying different styles.

Jeff, the hairstylist, washed out her hair and began to blow-dry it. She kept her eyes closed, wanting to be surprised by how it looked, hoping if Jeff could do great things to give Alistair a flattering cut, he could somehow turn her into the sort of beauty that would make Alistair want to melt.

When Jeff was done messing with her hair and flipped it back, she opened her eyes and broke into a wide grin. It was gorgeous. After taking the ends off and making it a manageable length that came just a few inches over her shoulders, the fullness was flattering and soft. Her skin and eyes were brightened by the highlights, which made all her hair look lighter and shinier.

She felt like a new person. Well, still herself but the prettiest version of herself.

Jeff’s eyes softened. “Do you like it?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, whipping off her cape and flipping her hair a couple more times.

She’d never be able to do it as well as he had, in soft waves that framed her face, but for now, she could enjoy it. And enjoy Alistair’s reaction.

She turned to him with a smile and saw him fixed on her with a deep frown.

“What is it?” she asked, nervously touching the ends of her hair, feeling bare now that there was less of it.

He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

Jeff threw up his hands and headed over to the cash register. “I can’t even.”

Alistair glared at him, but there was nothing he could do. Bridget liked her hair, and even if it hurt that Alistair didn’t, she couldn’t do anything about it.

This would make her much harder to identify with the employee badge, and honestly, before she was searching for Lana, this was how she liked to wear her hair anyway.

Not in an overgrown, lank ponytail.

She clenched her jaw, ignoring Alistair as she paid and they headed out.

“What are you angry about?” he asked, looking maddeningly handsome as he shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her outside. His brown hair looked shiny and soft, and the new style was more masculine but still very him. It fit his sharp features, his strong jaw.

“Nothing,” she said, fighting back disappointment as she got in the car. “Come on. We have a bit of a drive to our next place. A normal hotel but a big one. I was thinking that way, we shouldn’t have to deal with someone looking into the appearance of each and every guest.

“Right,” he said, but he still seemed to be pouting.

She didn’t get the problem. What, she wasn’t allowed to even try and be as beautiful as he was? He liked her better as the dowdy, plain girl he could feel superior to?