Tempting the Dragon (3 page)

“Fine, but you know what?” He crossed his arms. With his wide-legged stance, he was the picture of virility. “Until now, I pretty much figured this lake monster wasn’t real, like all the rest of them. A legend, a story, something the good people of Forestwood, New York, invented to help with tourism. But the way you—and everyone else in this town—are acting has got me to wondering what exactly you’re hiding.”

To that, she had no reply. “Check back with me tomorrow,” she finally said, even though she had no idea if she could pull together a family meeting by then. “Hopefully I’ll know more.”

Though she’d pretty much dismissed him, he made no move to leave. Instead, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his camera, fiddled with the controls and held it up to his eyes as if testing the light.

“Okay?” she prodded.

He snapped a couple of shots, startling her. Impulsively, she stuck out her tongue, instantly regretting it when she heard the click of the shutter. “Stop,” she ordered. “No more photos. That’s rude, taking my picture without asking.”

Lowering the camera, his intense gaze pierced hers. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I take pictures out of habit. Especially when I see something worth photographing, like you.”

“Compliments don’t work on me,” she declared, even though his words made her feel all warm and fuzzy. “You’ll still need to check back with me tomorrow.”

He grinned, a sexy, savage lift of his mouth that made her insides twist in response. “Since you give me no choice, it’ll have to do. In the meantime, I think I’ll head out to the lake myself and check things out.”

She would have expected no less. “Just be careful,” she said, her standard warning as she turned to head back inside. At least she didn’t have to worry about him seeing anything. Libby always somehow sensed the presence of strangers and remained in the deepest part of the water. The only reason rumors had floated out of town had to be because someone had talked when they shouldn’t have.

Back straight, she walked away. As she did, she felt him watching her. She halfway expected him to stop her and felt faintly disappointed when he didn’t.

Once inside, she barely had time to take a deep breath before her twin baby sisters barreled around the corner. Blond ponytails flying, tall and leggy, they both had the all-American girl look going on. Except Pearl dressed exclusively in black while Sapphire favored vintage seventies attire, the more colorful, the better.

“Who was that?” Pearl demanded, grabbing at Jade’s arm. “He’s rock-god material.”

Amused and secretly in agreement, Jade glanced at Sapphire to see if she’d echo her twin’s sentiment. “He’s pretty cute,” Sapph finally allowed. “Who is he?”

“My new boyfriend?” Jade answered, ruining it by turning what should have been a statement into a question.

“Ewww,” Pearl squealed. “That would mean he’s old.” She shuddered, as if their visitor had taken out his dentures before asking for his cane.

Sapph, always the more thoughtful one, frowned at her sister. “Jade’s not old.”

Pearl shrugged, her expression unconvinced. “Fine. If you want to snag every gorgeous man in town, don’t let me stop you.”

The heavy layer of sarcasm in her voice made Jade smile. “He’s here because of Libby. He wants to do a story on her.”

At her words, both teens’ mouths dropped open. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

The twins exchanged looks.

“So what are you gonna do?” Pearl finally asked, seeming worried.

Jade made a show of checking her watch. “Call a family meeting. That’s the only thing I can do.”

Family meetings in the Burnett clan were frequent, noisy and fun. Usually a potluck, everyone brought a home-cooked dish or two. Tons of delicious food, free-flowing wine and lots of talk made the meetings occasions to be looked forward to.

Even the twins and their teenage cousins attended without complaint. The abundance of food was enough of a lure.

“A family meeting!” Pearl brightened. “Oh, I so hope Auntie Em brings her fried chicken.”

“Oh, me, too!” The twins hurried off, heads together, planning what they’d eat first.

Watching them go, Jade sighed. Sometimes being around her younger sisters made her feel really old, even though she only had twelve years on their seventeen.

Jade made three calls, which meant those people would make calls of their own until the entire family had been notified. Due to the urgency of the situation, the meeting would be that evening at seven. Unless life-threatening, all previously made plans would be canceled. The family meeting always took precedence.

Opal and Amber took to the kitchen, intent on cooking whatever culinary delights they’d decided to team up and make this time. Jade barely suppressed a shudder. The pair’s creations were legendary, and not in a good way.

Finally, as the hour neared seven, cars pulled up in front of Burnett House and parked. People brought food—some in ice chests, boxes or bags, or casserole dishes they carried in their hands. Redheads outnumbered brunettes and blondes since almost all of the Burnetts and their offspring were gingers. Jade’s flame-colored mane had turned silver immediately after taking on the mantle of Libby’s caregiver. At first, this change had horrified her, making her fret about appearing old. But in the years that had passed, she’d come to love her moonlight tresses. She knew once she passed that task on, her normal color would be restored and the new caregiver would immediately go gray, like what had happened when Amber passed the title on to her.

Wonderful smells drifted out of the formal dining room as Jade made her way downstairs. She could hear the low hum of conversation, which meant the family had already begun to gather.

Stepping into the room, she stopped. It looked like it always did—a packed room, with the long mahogany table groaning under the weight of food that would soon be demolished when everyone descended on it like sharks on a feeding frenzy.

Her eyes watered at the competing smells of the older ladies’ perfumes and the men’s cologne. Jade had tried once to get everyone to agree to attend fragrance free, but she’d been immediately shot down by the elders. Despite the fact that wolves had super-sensitive noses, those ladies loved their scents, so Jade had to let it go. Even though every time she hugged her aunt Agate, Jade’s eyes would water and she’d have to stifle a fit of coughing, the overabundance of scent thrived to this day. Jade countered this by trying to stand as far away from the worst offenders as possible.

Since she’d called the meeting, she would have to do the majority of the talking. She remembered the first family meeting at which she had to speak, immediately after her mother had announced her retirement and Jade had been assigned the chore of looking after Libby, the popular and mysterious lake shape-shifter who resided in Forestwood Lake. Libby despised the term
monster
. Jade couldn’t blame her.

Since then, Jade had grown accustomed to giving speeches. She found she did better with little or no preparation. Winging it seemed well received.

But first, everyone had to eat. A line had already started forming at one end of the table, where someone had placed two stacks of sturdy paper plates. She watched, amazed even though it was always the same, as relatives took their places at certain dishes, filling their plates as high as they could, before carrying the mound of food over to their respective seats at the table.

Jade waited until just about everyone had gotten what they wanted before going over to check out what remained. Waving at a couple of her cousins on the other side of the room, she stepped in line. As she eyed the half-empty pans of pasta salad and fried chicken, her stomach growled. She made herself a small plate, wondering which dish her mother and grandmother had made. Amber and Opal had been holed up in the kitchen for hours, shooing away anyone who attempted to enter. They’d refused to say what they were making, only claiming it would be the best surprise ever.

Jade only hoped it would be edible. Separately, her grandmother was a good cook, but Amber wasn’t. And together... They ended up competing, each adding just another pinch of something, and the end result always, without exception, turned out terrible.

What astounded Jade was that no one could tell from looking at it. No, it wasn’t until you took the first bite and gagged that you realized what had happened.

Ladling a little bit of everything on her plate, she tried to spot Amber and Opal’s latest concoction. Since she couldn’t, she knew she’d find out once she started to eat.

The desserts had been placed on a side table. There were the usual cakes and pies, and a beautiful peach cobbler. Jade knew which one she’d be having. That is, as long as her mother and grandmother hadn’t made it. Unfortunately, without tasting it, there was no way to tell.

Taking a seat next to her aunt Agate since it was the only one available, Jade hoped the overwhelming scent wouldn’t ruin her taste buds, and dug in. Every single morsel she put in her mouth tasted delicious. Which meant, she realized after she’d cleaned her plate, that one of the desserts would be awful. But which one?

She caught Aunt Agate’s eye, aware she—and just about everyone else in the room—was thinking the exact same thing.

A few people had already gingerly approached the dessert table, selecting two or three things to be on the safe side. Jade did the same, helping herself to a slice of chocolate cake and the peach cobbler. Praying neither of her choices would be the one, she took her seat and dug in. The chocolate cake tasted moist, with just the right amount of airy sweetness.

She polished that off and turned her attention to the cobbler. Just looking at the peach slices swimming in a syrupy glaze and the perfectly browned mixture of crumble made her mouth water. Someone should have taken a photograph of the entire thing when it had been undisturbed. Surely, this couldn’t be the dessert item Amber and Opal had managed to ruin, could it?

Jade glanced up to find Aunt Agate watching her, spoon poised over her own mound of cobbler.

“You first,” her aunt said, grinning.

Taking a deep breath, Jade plunged her spoon down, scooping up a good-size bite. It appeared juicy and moist, and the fragrant steam whet Jade’s appetite. She swallowed, then shoved her entire spoonful into her mouth.

Her taste buds exploded with flavor. Slowly chewing, she let out her breath and swallowed. “It’s good,” she began, letting her relief show in her voice. “I’m not sure who made it, but neither Mom nor Grandma was the cook.”

As she reached for another bite, her tongue began to burn. Eyeing her aunt, who was happily tucking in to her own helping of cobbler, Jade tried to blurt out a warning. Instead, she only managed a croak.

Chapter 3

T
ears filling her eyes, Jade grabbed her water glass and began chugging, too late to help Aunt Agate, who had just begun to feel the burn. What the heck had they put into that thing—peppers?

One glass of water wasn’t even close to enough. Jade jumped up, sprinting for the table where plastic cups had been stacked near water pitchers and ice. She filled two glasses, drinking one down and refilling it, before carrying them back to the table. Handing one to her aunt, she watched while the older woman drained hers before giving her the second.

“Oh, my,” Aunt Agate finally gasped. “Guess we know who made that, after all.”

All around the room, people were digging into the gorgeous cobbler. “It seems we never learn,” Jade commented, her voice as dry as her still-burning throat. All around her, people gasped, reaching for their water glasses and shooting murderous looks at the oblivious pair of cooks, who continued to eat and chat happily.

Finally, Jade figured everyone had eaten—and suffered—enough. Taking a deep breath, she tapped her fork on her water glass for attention. “As I’m sure most of you know,” she began, well aware how fast gossip traveled in this town, “a photojournalist is here asking questions about Libby.”

Her mother and her aunt exchanged knowing looks. “The
handsome
stranger,” Amber put in. “And I could tell by the way he looked at you that he found you attractive, as well.”

Both Pearl and Sapphire glowered at her. Several of the other relatives whispered behind their hands to one another, which reminded Jade her lack of a man in her life had been a topic of conversation for quite some time.

She used to find the pointed comments hurtful. These days, she simply ignored them.

Jade managed to shrug. “I don’t know about that, but we’re not here to discuss my love life.” Or lack of, she amended silently. “I need direction as to what to do about Libby. If he finds out about her and does a story, we can say goodbye to our privacy and hello to a wave of tourists.”

Another standing argument in both town and her family. People were equally divided. Some wanted to capitalize on the monster in their midst, while others insisted on leaving things the way they’d been for centuries.

“That old debate again?” Jade’s uncle Jack, Auntie Em’s husband, huffed. “Why do you want to go and ruin a perfectly good family get-together with that nonsense?”

“Yeah,” her cousin Coral, who hated her name, seconded. “Can you just finish up whatever you have to say so we can go?”

“This is important, everyone. A photojournalist is asking about Libby. I need to know what, if anything, to tell him.”

This time, her grandmother spoke. When Opal addressed the family in her matriarchal voice, everyone paid attention. “In all my years of taking care of Libby, not once did word about her existence leak beyond this town.”

The accusation seemed clear, at least to Jade. In fact, everyone in the room swung their heads around to stare right back at her, accusation in their expressions.

As if she’d already failed.

And it didn’t matter that she’d never asked for this job. It had been expected of her from the moment she’d been born.

The last thing Jade had ever wanted was to be put in charge of taking care of Forestwood’s resident lake beast. Libby had resided in the cool, deep depths for as long as anyone could remember, and the Burnett family had always been her caretakers. Libby personally chose whom she wanted and when. Since Jade’s mother, Amber, was still young and vibrant, Jade had figured she’d had at least ten more years before being asked to take on the task.

Thus when Libby gave her approval for Amber to retire from her duty and pass the chore down, Jade had been completely unprepared. Worse, Amber had said nothing other than a terse “Good luck.” Evidently, training wasn’t one of the perks of the job.

Jade had been caretaker since she’d turned twenty, nine years now. In the beginning, she’d often resented that fact. These days, she felt more comfortable, more at ease with her role, which mostly consisted of being Libby’s friend. Maybe in the beginning, when Libby had first come to Forestwood, the role had been one of a protector, Jade wasn’t sure. Every decision, even those made by the Burnett family in a family meeting, had to be run by Libby before being implemented. In truth, Jade privately thought the family meetings were all for show. And an excuse to get together and eat.

“I’m doing the best I can,” she muttered to herself through clenched teeth, while she tried to figure out what to say. “I think I’ve done well considering my age when I assumed the role of Guardian.”

Unfortunately, Opal’s hearing was the one thing that hadn’t declined with age. “Life is not fair, honey,” Opal drawled. “And since Libby specifically requested you, there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

Ever since the first time Jade had heard Opal make that statement, she’d grit her teeth and wondered how anyone had actually known what Libby wanted. In the prior years when Jade had accompanied Amber to take care of Libby, not once had Libby—whether in human form or not—ever said two words to her. Not once. Jade had begun to sincerely doubt she could talk. Of course the minute Jade had stepped into her mother’s role, all that had changed. She and Libby had sat down several times and shared a meal and chatted. These days, Jade felt as if she and Libby could easily become close friends.

Once, the knowledge that Libby had requested her had filled her with resentment. Now, she felt a little glow of pleasure.

Belatedly, she realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for a response.

Jade dipped her chin at Opal to show she understood. “That may be,” she continued, addressing the entire family. “But the fact is, someone did talk to an outsider. Word traveled, far enough to attract that photojournalist’s attention.”

“Then deal with it,” her mother said tiredly. “Distract him. You’re pretty enough. Pretend to be helpful. You know as well as I do that Libby stays deep when a stranger comes around. That journalist will learn nothing, unless you tell him. And I know you won’t do something that foolish.”

And there she had her answer. She wondered why part of her had hoped...what? That they’d let their secret finally out in the open, for the rest of the world to marvel at and share? Or at least the shape-shifter world. Humans could never know.

“Are we finished?” cousin Coral demanded, sidestepping closer to the food table. “Because if we are, I’d sure like to eat my dessert.”

Jade glanced at her grandmother, who dipped her head yes. Then at her mother, who did the same, except with a smile. “Then I guess we’re done.”

The instant the words left her mouth, chairs scraped on the wooden floor as they all rushed, en masse, toward the bathrooms. All except Coral and a few others who clearly hadn’t yet tried the peach cobbler. Watching as they approached the dessert tables, Jade considered warning them, then decided not to. She snagged another slice of the chocolate cake and carried it out of the room, across the yard and into the main house. There, she took a seat at the kitchen bar and ate it slowly, needing to wash the taste of the cobbler out of her mouth. She had to plan a strategy. From what she could tell of the handsome photographer, he wouldn’t be easily distracted or put off.

“Are you about ready?” Amber asked as she entered the kitchen. “We’ve got a full moon. It should be a perfect night for hunting.”

The shape-shifting wolves were called Pack for a reason. There was nothing they loved more than changing into their lupine selves and hunting together. When a younger Jade had shown signs of reticence, preferring privacy over too much family togetherness, her mother had told her, “A solitary wolf is a lonely wolf.” As far as Jade had been concerned, a little loneliness could be a good thing.

These days, Jade relished her family hunting times. Sometimes, family meetings were called just so everyone could change and hunt together after.

“Of course.” Blotting her mouth with a paper napkin, Jade carried her paper plate over to the trash bin. “It’s been a while since I’ve changed.”

“Then this hunt will do you good.” Patting her arm, Amber wandered out toward the dining room to gather up any stragglers. Though technically, Grandpa Sam had been designated Pack leader years ago, his worsening dementia had made him unable to even attend the family hunts. Now, Jade’s grandmother, Opal, led.

The woods in back of Burnett House stretched back several acres and the boundaries had been clearly marked on certain trees. Behind that, lay forest preserve, protected from hunters. A bounty of wildlife thrived there, and the Burnett Pack did their part to keep rabbits, squirrels, foxes and other smaller mammals from overpopulating.

Already the family had begun gathering on the back lawn, talking excitedly. With their full bellies, not too much hunting would likely take place tonight, but there were always a few who so loved the thrill of the hunt they attempted to do a sort of catch and release. Of course, once most shifters gave over to their animal side, the term
catch and release
lost all meaning.

Jade joined her aunt Agate and Coral. A second later, Sapphire and Pearl joined them. The twins seemed especially keyed up tonight, judging from their flushed faces.

“How long has it been since you changed?” Jade asked them, concerned.

Both girls giggled, but neither answered. Jade let it drop, since they were about to rectify the problem any moment now. Still, she resolved to have a chat with the teens later and reiterate the dangers of remaining human too long. Shifters who neglected their need to shape-shift often went insane or became ill. She didn’t want anything like that to happen to her baby sisters.

The hum of voices quieted as Opal appeared on the back patio, followed closely by Amber. She led the way through the crowd, and they all followed her, their eagerness palpable.

An unpaved winding path led into the forest. Autumn’s fallen leaves provided a colorful carpet beneath their feet. The evening breeze fell off here, muted by the shield of the ancient trees. This was as sacred and holy a place as Jade had ever been.

In the deepest part of their land, they passed the large maple tree that marked the edge of the preserve. Here, the family fanned out. Each, whether individually or as a small group, had their favorite spot they liked to go to shed and store their human clothing before initiating the change into wolf.

Ever since she’d first shifted, Jade had claimed a little glade rimmed by sumac and pine trees that had been mere saplings all those years ago.

Slipping into her own private leafy enclosure, Jade quickly undressed, placing everything into a weatherproof plastic box she kept chained to a rock. And then, with the scent of the damp earth surrounding her, she dropped to the ground and began the change.

Some shifters rushed this, anxious for the change to wolf to be over. There were a few who claimed they found it excruciatingly painful, but the vast majority took pleasure in the act. Jade liked to take her time, enjoying the feeling of her bones lengthening and changing, her body going from human woman to female wolf. Each time, she treated this act with reverence, like the miracle she considered it to be.

Finally, she blinked to clear away the sparkling pricks of light that always accompanied the shape-shifting. Wolf now, she used her nose before her eyes, sniffing the air and recognizing the individual scents of her family.

Bounding from her clearing, she greeted them with play bows. And they were off. Running, tumbling, stretching out their lupine forms until they were more used to being in this shape.

This—wild and free—was when Jade felt happiest. The damp leaves under her paws, catching the tantalizing scents of rabbit and fox, the feel of her powerful muscles under her fur as she ran.

Often, the Burnett clan would stay out all night, only changing back to human as dawn neared. Sometimes the elders, tiring easy, would leave early, but often they, too, reveled in the freedom from human aches and pains.

This night, Jade took the opportunity to make sure when she returned home as human she’d be exhausted. She hunted, but killed nothing, enjoying the sport. She played and rolled, teased and ran. And finally, as the sky began to lighten, she returned to her little grotto and began the change back to human.

Then, aroused as she always was, the way all shifters were when they changed back to human she found herself longing for a certain man. Rance. Glad her fatigue kept her from thinking too much, she dressed and began the long trek home. Ahead, she saw a few others doing the same thing.

Once she reached the house, she headed upstairs to her room and slid into bed. Closing her eyes, she fell into what she hoped would be a deep, dreamless sleep.

Of course, the next morning she slept in. Bright yellow sunlight streamed in through her bedroom window. Immediately, she knew she’d dreamed of him again. Rance. Sensual dreams, the kind she’d never had until recently. Rance. The man she’d craved when she’d returned to her human form. From the instant she first opened her eyes, she could see his face. They wanted her to distract him, but she needed to be careful. Nervous with anticipation, she put extra care into her appearance, styling her long silver hair into a mass of curls and applying eyeliner and mascara as well as powder and blush. And gloss. As she smoothed that over her mouth, she couldn’t help but imagine Rance tasting her lips, lingering over the slightly sweet flavor.

The instant the thought occurred to her, she blushed. All over. Glad no one else was around to notice, she reminded herself she needed to distract him, nothing more.

Pearl and Sapph came running into her room, both talking excitedly at the same time. “He’s here. Or not here yet, but walking up the street toward the house. He’s got a camera with a huge lens and he’s taking pictures of everything. I saw him...”

“No,” Sapph interrupted, grinning. “I saw him first. So I get dibs.”

Dibs?

“No one gets anything,” Jade reminded them, keeping her voice stern while she hid a smile. “He’s too old for you both, anyway.”