Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4) (6 page)

BOOK: Diamond Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 4)
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She glared at him and then started grabbing hats off the shelf, plonking them on his head, frowning, and taking them off again. “You and I both know we would never be a pair. Heck, we never would have talked if you hadn’t been in the dungeon where I happened to be working.”

“Maybe it was fate,” he said, grabbing a hat from the top shelf and pulling it on. “What do you think?”

She squinted. “It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

He caught her by the hand, and she turned back to him in surprise, her cheeks heating cutely again. He pulled her in closer. “And just for your information, I’d like to try it.”

She jerked away, her breathing rapid, and glared at him. “You weren’t like this in captivity. You weren’t interested in anything but me helping you escape.”

“Yeah, but maybe I’m seeing a different Bridget. Or maybe I was more interested than you thought. After all, I never asked a scientist to help me escape. And I did get really mad at that wolf.”

“That’s because he was about to commit an atrocity.”

“You’d be surprised about how little most dragons care about atrocities when they don’t involve them,” he said. “No, my reaction to the event was abnormal.”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about it,” she said. “It’s not something I want to remember.”

“He didn’t get anywhere, did he?”

“No,” she said. “But he almost stole my first kiss—” She cut off as she realized what she’d said, and he couldn’t stop a grin spreading over his face.

“Your what?”

She turned on her heel and stormed away. “Never mind! Now bring that hat and whatever stupid underwear you want and let’s go. We need to get out of here and head to the next town.”

He followed her, wondering why the thought that no one else had kissed her pleased him.

But then the thought of what the wolf might have done to her dawned on him, making him burn with impotent rage.

More and more, he was beginning to think his reactions to Bridget weren’t simply the actions of an indignant friend, but those of a jealous male.

And being jealous about a human female who didn’t even like him was a very weird thing for a dragon.

Amethyst, if you’re out there, you better come soon.

He’d have to remember to keep sending thoughts out as often as he could. Because the way he was starting to look at Bridget, the rage he felt at anyone else touching her, and the way he kept wanting to be close to her were very much the signs of a shifter toward his mate.

And for Alistair, that simply wasn’t possible… was it?

Chapter 6

W
hile they were filling
up at a gas station, Bridget used her phone to rent a vacation cabin that would be even more isolated than a motel and much harder for someone to track them to. The only problem was it was several hours from the town where they’d bought clothing and food, and it would be evening when they arrived.

But that was a small price to pay for some privacy.

Her heart thudded at the thought of it. Privacy with Alistair. She was seeing whole new sides of him since they’d been together. He could be lighthearted or teasing or snobby or seductive.

Definitely seductive.

She guessed he was aware of his effect on women. He had to be. He came out of the gas station with another bag of snacks in hand, bought with the money she’d given him, and he looked pleased with himself.

“Get in,” she said. “I rented a place, and we need to head out.”

“Sure.” He slid into the seat and buckled up. “Somewhere romantic I hope?”

“I told you, you aren’t getting any.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you get some good snacks?”

“I have no idea what is good or not,” he said. “But I do have to admire the sheer variety of things you have in this world. And how easy to acquire they are. Imagine never having to grow anything or buy from someone who has.”

She swallowed. “I guess that is kind of weird. I mean, farmers just sell to the stores.”

He held up the bag filled with various candies and chips. “None of this came from a farm.”

She laughed. “I guess not.”

He pulled out a bag of beef jerky. “Do you think Scrangey will like this?”

She eyed it. “I don’t know. We should probably stick with the canned stuff I picked up at the last store.”

“Right,” he said, putting it away. He reclined his chair slightly and gazed out the window as she began to drive. It was already cloudy, but as they pulled back onto the freeway, it began to rain, making Scrangey meow as drops loudly covered the windshield and windows.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Alistair said, reaching out and picking up the struggling cat to plant him in his lap. “I’m here.”

She felt slightly touched by Alistair’s protectiveness as he stroked the little cat. No matter what he said, she couldn’t imagine him abandoning his pet.

“He’s not my pet,” Alistair said. “And I still haven’t decided what I’ll do with him.”

“I’m never going to get used to that,” Bridget said. “You being able to read thoughts.”

“Ah, yeah. Sorry about that,” he said, leaning on his hand with his head against the window. He perked up slightly. “What disguise do you think I should use in the next town?” He shook his head, and he changed. “Blond?” he asked. He looked in the mirror. “No, too femme.” He shook again. “Ebony?” He blinked. “Blue eyes go well with black hair.”

“I like your original look,” she said absentmindedly, trying to calculate the hours it would take to get there. “But in the meantime, you might as well stick with brown.”

He was quiet. “You like the original? You don’t think it’s weird?”

“No,” she said. “Not anymore.”

“But you’re human.”

“And you’re a dragon,” she retorted. “Yet here we are together, working as friends.”

He folded his arms. “Friends. Hm.”

She ignored his comment as they continued to drive.

“So this Lana person…” he said. “You two keep in touch after college?”

“Not as much as I would have liked,” she admitted. “I went into graphic design, and she went into fashion. Both are design but very different worlds. I kept in touch with her online, but I haven’t seen her in some time.”

“I bet she would be touched by what you’re doing for her.”

“I don’t know,” Bridget said. “It doesn’t matter to me as long as she’s safe.”

“We’re going to get her back,” he said firmly. “I promise you, Brig.”

Rain was still falling, and he broodingly stroked the cat, but the seriousness in his voice made her pause. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve never had anyone mean that much to me, but if I did, I can’t imagine how excruciating it would be to not know where they were.”

“I guess your friends don’t know where you are,” she said, feeling that pang of guilt again.

He sighed. “I don’t think they miss me. We weren’t really friends. Just similar creatures, I guess. While being very different. All of us led separate lives.”

“What was your life like?” she asked. “Back then I mean.”

He shrugged. “I’ve already told you the gist of it. Rich. Powerful. Only the best people around me. I didn’t really have to spend much time as a dragon. I did, occasionally, with Dom—that’s the amethyst dragon. Mainly because he was also interacting with humans at times. We would sometimes talk about dragon powers.” He was quiet for a moment. “Other dragons didn’t really see the point of interacting with humans. If they’ve been awakened, I wonder how that has gone for them.”

“So you were the only one taken?” she asked.

“I assume so,” he replied. “I guess for my powers.”

“Why yours?”

He gave her a grin. “Because I’m strong. Nearly invincible and very dangerous. In fact, it’s probably good for the world that I’ve always been distracted by shallow pursuits, because I could have wreaked havoc if I’d wanted to. But I prefer the finer things, and violence isn’t one of them.”

“You were violent at the castle,” she said.

“That’s because they imprisoned me for months and gave me nothing to think about but violence,” he explained. “It’s not my natural way.”

“Are you really going to kill them when we go back for my friend?”

He nodded. “I would think so. No one should be allowed to do what they did. They imprisoned me. Took my blood. Chained me. Could have killed me.” Darkness filled his eyes. “I’d be doing the world a favor by ending them.”

“But then you would be a killer,” she said.

He shrugged. “I told you. I’m not some hero like you’re making me out to be.” His eyes roamed over her. “Unless thinking of me like a hero is more likely to get me in your pants.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No. No pants.”

“No pants?” he asked. “I like the sound of that.”

She swatted at him, then focused back on the road. She was finally starting to feel a little more relaxed in his presence. Despite the fact that he radiated danger, it truly didn’t feel like he would hurt her.

It really seemed he was on her side.

“I am,” he said quietly. “I promise you.”

She nodded but didn’t answer. Instead, she just enjoyed the sound of the rain and kept herself focused on the road so she could get them to their destination.

Which was hard when her eyes kept wanting to look at the dragon in the passenger seat.

* * *


S
o this should be more
private?” Alistair asked, scanning around the woody clearing where the small but nice cabin was located. It was hidden off a small side road and tucked into the woods, as if whoever had built it were looking to never be found if they didn’t want to be.

“Yes,” she said. “Unless shifters are looking at vacation rentals, they should totally overlook this place.”

“Vacation rentals?”

“Like it’s someone’s home part of the year, but they get private renters the rest of the time.”

“And you’re sure you can trust these people?”

“As much as you can trust a motel,” she said. “You seen
Psycho
? No, of course you haven’t.”

“Why?” he asked, picking up their stuff to carry it up the front steps.

It was peaceful here, everything kept in good order, and the cabin was more like a cottage. Cozy. He wouldn’t mind staying here a couple days, if they could actually plan on being safe.

He doubted that, though.

There was a rocking swing on the porch, suspended by two chains hanging from the roof, overlooking the deck.

With the trees high around them and nothing modern in sight, even though it was nothing like the world he’d known, he felt a little more at home here.

She unlocked the door using keys that were hidden in a box at the side of the house, and when he walked in, he was even more impressed with the accommodations.

“Two bedrooms,” she said, looking at the stairs that led up to the second floor.

Hm.

She set Scrangey down, and he walked over to the couch and claimed it with a mew. He was looking much cleaner after a bath at the last place, and the white and black of his fur were actually quite pretty.

Alistair sat next to Scrangey with a sigh. “Well, we’re here, aren’t we?”

“I’ll get dinner ready,” Bridget said, taking a couple of the plastic bags into the kitchen.

“Better go help her,” he said to the cat, standing. He found her at the small, round wooden table, pulling out packages of meat and loaves of prewrapped bread.

“I can help,” he offered.

“Nah,” she said. “You keep Scrangey company. I’m fine here.”

But he wanted to stay there with her. She was so capable. So strong. You’d never know what she’d been through in the past few days.

She was just solid, like an iron stake waves had to blast around. Immovable.

And so loyal.

What would it be like to have all that loyalty she had for Lana directed toward someone like him? The bitter bite of jealousy moved through him, and he sat on a chair next to the table and glared up at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, green eyes mellow and relaxed, as she spread some kind of suspicious-looking sauce on the bread.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Mayo,” she answered. “Made of eggs and oil.”

He made a face. “I don’t understand it. Bread, butter, and a little meat is all you need.” He looked at one of the packages of meat. “And I’ve never seen meat like this.”

“It’s deli meat,” she said on a sigh. “They really did feed you crap when you were imprisoned.”

He shrugged. “Everything is crap compared to what I’m used to. What I used to have.”

“The best of everything,” she said before he could, and he fought back a flush as he nodded. “Sorry, but as I said, we have other priorities.”

He nodded and went back to glaring.

Ever since they’d escaped, he’d been feeling more and more attracted to her. Drawn to her. But she was either fighting it really hard or not reciprocating at all.

Which was so irritating.

Thunder cracked and rain started again, dampening his mood as the sky darkened, shadowing the window slightly.

“More rain,” she said, looking up at the droplets streaming over the glass.

“Yeah,” he said grumpily.

“You don’t like rain?” she asked.

“I just find if I’m already in a bad mood, it exacerbates it.”

“That makes sense.” She walked past him to pull out paper plates and slide their sandwiches onto them. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he said, eyeing it doubtfully.

“You want to eat outside on the porch?” she asked. “It’s so pretty out there, and the overhang will keep the rain off. Plus, I love the rain. Love watching it.”

“The only thing the rain is good for is kissing,” he blurted out, following her to the front door.

She turned back toward him, her cheeks going pink under her freckles. “What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Sure, let’s eat out here on the swing.”

They sat down together, awkward. She started eating first, with that matter-of-fact demeanor she always had.

He studied her profile, the pert nose, the delicate cheekbones, the rounded cheeks and soft chin. The green in her eyes was the color of the forest, deep and soothing. Her brows were strong and arched. And her hair was the color of sand after rain.

Curse it, he was actually waxing poetic about her.

He took a bite out of his sandwich out of pure frustration and was surprised to find it actually tasted pretty good. “This is nice,” he commented, enjoying the way their sides touched as they sat together, the swing slightly moving back and forth.

The cool breeze from the forest smelled fragrant and piney with the fresh rain falling around them.

He took a moment to just be grateful he was out here, free, alive, with no walls containing him.

The wood of the swing creaked, and Bridget looked over at him. “You all right?”

“I should be asking you that,” he said. “You’ve been through more than me in the past few days.”

“No,” she said. “You were captured and held captive and are now in a whole new world. You have every right to be upset, too.”

“I don’t get upset,” he said. “I get even.”

She nodded. “I guess I can’t blame you. But I do think it’s a waste of your time.”

“A waste of time to protect others from them?”

“Are you really doing that, though?” she asked. “Or is it simply revenge? Because if you’re going to kill that many, when you don’t even know how involved some of them are, that makes you more of a villain than a hero.”

“I don’t really care if I’m a villain,” he countered. “In this story, maybe I am. In another, I may be the hero. It’s all about opinion.”

She shrugged, brushing her long, blond ponytail over her shoulder.

“Can I see your hair down?” he asked.

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