Not His Dragon Page 2

  Eoin tilted his head back and squirted the cool liquid in his eyes, flushing the chemical burn away. The sharp discomfort faded and a dull ache settled under his eyelids. This would take at least an hour for his spell to heal completely. He drained the bottle, taking what relief he could. The water soaked his shirt until it clung to his shoulders and chest like a second skin.

  Pushing from the wall, he blinked to clear his vision. His bellow had emptied the streets. Let that remind them who truly ruled the city. Hopefully the she-dragon’s mate had heard it. He should come face Eoin instead of sending his female to do his dirty work.

  Eoin never would have thought one of his kind would stoop so low as to use pepper spray. No matter how effective it may be, where was her dignity? He inhaled deeply and caught her scent.

  Yes, there she was. How long had it been since he’d seen a female of his kind? Not since he’d moved to New Port over a hundred years ago. It shouldn’t matter. Her mate wouldn’t be far. Females of his kind didn’t stay single for long. They were too rare. He’d have to drive them from his territory before their clan arrived to support their claim to a home. He didn’t like his kind and had chosen to live alone for a reason. How had they crossed into the city without him knowing? He’d better reset his spells.

  He jogged, following her trail. Cars lined the street, parked and waiting for their owners to finish work. The sidewalks were bare of pedestrians, which helped him ease into a faster pace. It would be awhile before the humans found the courage to resurface.

  Two blocks from the site of their encounter, her scent ended at a storefront. He squinted at the sign to be sure he’d read it properly.

  Scratch Your Itch.

  Scratching for shifters? Ingenious idea. Once he escorted the she-dragon from the city, he’d have to come back and see if they did scale care. He walked into the full waiting room.

  Chapter Three

  Ryota was good looking even in beast form. Glossy black fur covered his bipedal form and muscles rippled under his soft coat as he settled on Angie’s workbench. She used modified massage tables to scratch her customers’ backs.

  Lots of Hollywood movies had confused the general public about shifters. Growing-up, Angie had always thought of them as people who could turn into animals, but that wasn’t the case. They were a race who could change shape but not as the actual animal. So a werewolf was a mix of man and wolf. Ryota walked on two legs and could talk like he did in human form, except now he had fur, sharp teeth, and the face of a wolf. There was no mistaking one for the other, but underneath his skin, no matter the shape, he was still the same insufferable person.

  He rolled onto his stomach. “The usual.”

  She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her. The alpha had more faults than appeal, in her opinion. She was glad she’d discovered the size of his ego before their relationship had grown serious. Dating a shifter was a huge mistake and something she wouldn’t repeat. Their concept of love was mostly biological and possessive. She didn’t want a mate. She wanted someone who loved her for who she was, not because of a biological imperative. She needed to start hanging out with her own kind, but humans grew twitchy around her after a while. Her friends never stayed around long. Not unless they were supernatural, like Beth, but she couldn’t help wonder if to them she was only prey. Or maybe, whatever genes gave her sharp nails also instinctively frightened humans. She’d rather believe in the latter.

  Ryota, on the other hand, only thought about anatomy and he was very good at it. She lightly ran her sharp nails through his fur. It was the only thing she missed about him.

  He shivered. “Stop teasing me.”

  She smiled at his reaction and put more pressure into the scratch. Six months ago, she’d been penniless and on the verge of being homeless when she’d met a flea-ridden leopard shifter who’d paid her to scratch his hide until he’d almost passed out in relief. The idea for Scratch Your Itch had been born. Genetics had blessed her with very sharp nails, something that must have come from a very distant shifter ancestor. She’d decided to put them to good use and make a living as a scratching service.

  For the first time in memory, she had a steady job and a boss she loved. Herself.

  The alpha’s back leg quivered as she focused on his sweet spot over his lower back.

  She moved to avoid being kicked.

  “Right there. Don’t stop. Please.” He arched his back slightly to give her better access. She’d never been able to make him plead like that in bed.

  New Port’s shifter community had opened their arms and wallets when she’d opened her shop. Ryota and his pack were her best customers. Who needed a security system when she had a werewolf pack?

  And a lion pride. And a lone tiger. And a bear family. She was knee-deep in shed fur and loyal customers. At this rate, she would need to hire help soon. If she could keep her repair bills down.

  “You smell weird.” Ryota angled his hips to the left, leaning into her nails. “Like a combo of burnt toast, BO, and fear. Was the fire that bad?”

  “No, having the worst morning of my life will do that to me.”

  He inhaled deeper then sneezed. “With a dash of pepper.”

  His comment caught her off guard and she laughed. “Yeah, some asshole shifter grabbed me on the street. I pepper sprayed him like you taught me.”

  He rose to his elbow and turned his amber gaze on her. “Good girl.”

  Slapping her best customer across the muzzle was bad for business, no matter how satisfying it would have been. Instead, she ground her teeth and gave him a flat smile. He had shown her the secret defense to most shifters. They didn’t want their vulnerability to pepper spray becoming public knowledge. Even though shifters were faster and stronger than humans, the mortals outnumbered supernaturals a thousand to one.

  “What kind of shifter? I’ll have a word with his leader.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t in a position to ask questions.”

  Ryota settled back on his stomach, making happy wolf noises as she dug her nails into his back again. “Can I tempt you into a full body scratch?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t even think about it.”

  “I didn’t have to.” Those days were over. Full body scratching led shifters to wanting to rub naked skin together. She’d learned this lesson the hard way when she first opened shop. Come to think of it, that was how she and Ryota had started dating.

  “No more full body scratching. Shop policy.”

  “You write the policies.”

  “Yep.”

  A knock on the door saved Angie’s ass and she gave thanks to heaven. “Come in.” She didn’t cover Ryota. Shifters didn’t have a nudity complex.

  Beth stuck her head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, alpha. We’ve got a problem in the waiting room, Angie, demanding to see you.” Beth was part of Ryota’s pack and instinct drove the werewolves much harder than most shifters. Beth would always defer to her alpha before anyone else, even her boss.

  “Tell them she’s with a customer,” Ryota answered. He flinched as Angie dug her nails even deeper.

  “I’ll be right out, Beth. We’re done.”

  “We just started,” the alpha replied.

  “Consider it a freebie. I’ve had a rough morning and can’t take your shit.”

  Beth hadn’t moved.

  Angie tossed her a questioning look. She was an omega of the pack. They were rare, since their goal in life was pleasing others and most werewolves were jerks by nature. The pack spoiled Beth rotten. Angie had placed her friend in a predicament, though. She couldn’t please both her and Ryota at the same time.

  The alpha sat on the edge of the table and assessed the smaller female. “Why do you smell like fear?”

  “Because it’s the dragon.”

  Angie stepped back as if Beth had slapped her. “The dragon?”

  The omega nodded.

  “I wonder what he wants?” Ryota began to shift b
ack to human form.

  “Yeah,” Angie whispered. Rumor had it the dragon didn’t leave his castle often. He was a recluse who lived on the mountain by the edge of the city. If a person drove on Route 38, they could see the towers over the tree line. There was even a sightseeing spot where tourists gathered to get a glimpse of him flying over his lands.

  “Maybe he’s here to get his back scratched?” Beth’s giggle held an edge of hysteria. She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, that wasn’t funny.”

  “There’s only one way to find out what he wants.” Angie led Beth out of the room, leaving Ryota to finish his shift.

  The waiting area was empty. Where had all her clients gone? In the center of the room stood a familiar figure. “You!” She set her hands on her hips and met his bloodshot glare, determined not to flinch this time. “Beth, call the police. This jerk assaulted me on the street.” She didn’t even feel bad about the blisters forming around his eyes.

  His grin froze her soul. “Yes, Beth. Call the police.” He made it sound like a dare. His wet, semi-transparent dress shirt clung to his body like a second skin and she glimpsed multi-colored tattoos over hard flesh.

  Angie twisted her head to look at her friend. She was motionless by her desk, the whites of her eyes showing. Angie set her hand on Beth’s. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s the dragon,” Ryota answered as he entered the room. He bowed his head. “Eoin.” The alpha gathered Beth behind him. “Forgive Angie. She lacks any manners.”

  The dragon crossed his arms. “She sprayed chemicals in my eyes. I wonder where she learned that trick?”

  Ryota sniffed the air. “This is the guy you pepper sprayed?” He slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand, leaving a vivid red mark. Japanese fell from his lips in either swears or prayers; he spoke so quickly she couldn’t distinguish the words.

  She jabbed a finger in the dragon’s direction. “He grabbed me for no reason.” How did she become the bad guy in this situation?

  “I had reason.” Eoin’s voice ricocheted off her shop’s walls from the volume of his shout. “She’s trespassing. I’m here to escort her and her mate off my land.” He bared his teeth. “Peacefully.”

  Ryota eyed her as if seeing Angie for the first time. “Trespassing?”

  “Mate?” She asked at the same time. “Why would you think I’m mated? Do I look that stupid?” Angie crossed her arms. “Never mind that, I’m not going anywhere.” Her chest tightened. This was the first true home she’d had since her parents died. She’d worked too hard creating her niche in the shifter society. Nobody was driving her away. Not even a dragon.

  Ryota let out a frustrated growl. “Stop antagonizing him.” He shoved her behind him with Beth. “Obviously there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  Angie touched her now clean cheeks. “The soot on my face didn’t come from my apartment fire. It came from you when you yelled in my face.” That was a different version of ‘say it, don’t spray it,’ but Angie kept this thought to herself. Though Ryota probably wouldn’t believe her, she did have a brain-to-mouth-filter and she did want to survive this encounter.

  The enormity of her situation finally grew clearer and Angie understood Beth’s fear. If the dragon wanted to kick her out of the city, who would stop him?

  Sure, people put up a fuss when supernaturals broke human laws but she had to have someone in the city to tell her story to the press and the police. She was an orphan, a survivor of the state system. The only people who cared about her were in this room and they weren’t human.

  “Angie is allowed to live in our territory. Humans are exempt from our laws.” The alpha appeared calm and cool, even though he faced something that exhaled smoke without a lit cigarette in sight.

  She, like most people, knew a few details of territory laws between species and that they considered them important. LikeRyota and his pack could co-exist with a dragon in the same city, but if another werewolf pack tried to move in there would be bloodshed. However, humans didn’t count. They lived everywhere. Supernaturals have co-existed with humans as far back as recorded history, but they kept secrets and little of their cultures were shared.

  Eoin cocked his head to the side and took a deep breath as if tasting the air. “I want a word with her in private.”

  Angie gripped the back of Ryota’s shirt. Her throat had gone dry. He wouldn’t leave her. Right? She knew she wasn’t pack but they’d been lovers.

  The alpha shook his head. “She’s under pack protection.”

  She released a breath she’d been holding. Abandoned before, she couldn’t stop wondering when it would happen again.

  “We value her services.”

  The words stabbed her in the heart. She released her hold on Ryota and stepped away from the werewolves. She was just a service?

  “I give you my word no harm will come to her while we talk. You seem correct in assessing that this is a…” His gaze traveled over her but the anger in his eyes still burned. “…misunderstanding.”

  Ryota glanced at her. The alpha wouldn’t fight for her. Why would she ever believe he would? She had been just a piece of ass and she’d burned that bridge. Now, she had to figure out how to apologize to a dragon while keeping some of her dignity intact.

  Apparently her day could get worse.

  The wolf alpha left the shop with Beth in tow. They crossed the street and watched the building. “You’ve got good ties in the shifter community.” Eoin returned his attention to the she-dragon pretending to be human. How had she pulled it off with the other shifters?

  “Like he said, I provide them with a valuable service.” She held up her hand and he caught sight of her nails. Glossy and long, her nails appeared sharp.

  “Those don’t look like human nails.”

  “They are genetic leftovers from some distant ancestor. I can’t shift, so I’m classed as human.” She stuck her hands in her pockets as if suddenly ashamed of them.

  And that’s why the werewolves treated her as human. His nose said otherwise. “What species?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. No family tree to speak of.”

  Could her ancestor have been dragon? Even if that were possible, her scent sang to him. He leaned closer and there it was—the scent of she-dragon. He closed his eyes as it curled around him in seductive coils.

  Wait.

  He shook his head. She’d said something about not being mated.

  “Are you okay?”

  He pulled away toward the exit before his body started acting instinctively to her unmated scent. “I’m fine.” The last thing he needed was to become hormonal over a human. She wasn’t even his type. He liked them sleek and slutty, with names like Bambi or Lola. “What’s your name?”

  “Angie.”

  Damn. She was petite and curvy. Her short hair allowed him to admire the strong line of her jaw, and the delicate bone structure of her face gave her character.

  “What did you want to discuss?” Angie met his gaze and stood her ground. He admired a woman with backbone. Those who cowed to him, like Beth, broke too easily.

  He could scoop Angie in one arm without any effort. How long had it been since he’d smelled an unmated female of his kind? Obviously, too long. Except she claimed she wasn’t his kind. He cleared his throat and glanced around the empty room. “I’ve never met a human who smelled like dragon. I didn’t mean—well, I did mean to scare you, but I thought you were trying to infringe on my territory.” He rubbed his head. It was starting to ache. Apologies tended to give him migraines, which was why he avoided them. “We good?”

  Her big, dark eyes grew impossibly wide, softening the hard edges of mistrust in her expression. A male could drown in that kind of gaze. “So I can stay in New Port?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Just stay out of my way.” Turning his back on her, he left her shop. He ignored the werewolves as he strode down the street and shifted to his dragon form, tearing through his clothes. This would make the eveni
ng news, but after this shitty morning all he wanted was to be alone in the refuge of his castle.

  Chapter Four

  Warm updrafts carried Eoin over the city. He spotted a few humans on the rooftops, cameras aimed in his direction. On better days, he’d do a few acrobatics to appease them. It was good PR, but today he wanted to burn things to the ground. He swallowed his flame but let loose a roar that rattled the windows.

  A few screams followed. Reminding them he was a black-scaled predator would keep the paparazzi away for a few days. Better for everyone that way. He felt on the edge of biting things in half.

  Seeking solitude would ease his temper and a dip in the glacier-fed lake would sooth his eyes. He blinked them clear. The shift to dragon form hadn’t healed him as he’d hoped. Modern technology affected magic this way. He glided toward his mountain home, flapping his wings to gain more altitude. The aerial view of his castle soothed his fury.

  Poor review from a critic he couldn’t eat, sales plummeting, then beaten by a little human girl. Viktor would demand he turn in his dragon card. His vampire tattoo artist always had a flare for the dramatic, but he would be right. Eoin enjoyed a good scrap or a hunt like the next dragon but, unlike his kin, he appreciated the challenge of creating something.

  Humans had a natural knack for crafting new things and ideas. Most long-lived races didn’t have the capacity to value this gift.

  He dipped his left wing and took a leisurely turn around the turrets, only to come to a mid-air stop.

  A black Cadillac was parked in the courtyard by the front door. His agent waited by the car, waving his arms at him, as if he couldn’t see the human from the sky. This day couldn’t get much worse.

  Eoin dived toward the car and back-winged at the last minute so he could land right next to Roger.