Not His Dragon Page 4

  “I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?”

  The last thing she wanted was for Eoin to see her rat-infested apartment building. “I’ll get a ride. What time should I be there?”

  “Seven.”

  “Should I bring anything?”

  “I have all the tools and oils. I just need a pair of reliable hands.”

  Chapter Six

  Angie leaned face-first against the shop door and peered out the window at Eoin’s departing form.

  He sauntered along the sidewalk like a creature who knew he could eat anyone who bothered him. With one swallow.

  Whose cornflakes had she pissed in lately to deserve this tsunami-sized wave of misfortune? Sure, cleaning dragon scales could open a new branch to her services, but did she really want to deal with dragons, with their teeth and hair trigger tempers? Add in her pleasant disposition and she’d be dead by the end of the week. Tripling her fees was like hazard pay. She might as well offer dental care for great white sharks on her lists of services. If she’d wanted to place her life at risk, she’d have been a firefighter or a soldier. All she wanted was security, and Eoin was anything but.

  A familiar, sunny-blond face blocked her view of Eoin and gave her a warm smile. “What are you looking at?” Ken, her next appointment, shouted through the door then looked over his shoulder.

  She opened the entrance and pulled him inside.

  “Was that who I think it was?” He pointed toward Eoin, his eyes wide.

  “Yes.”

  “You think he’d give me an autograph?”

  “After he bites you and uses your blood as ink.” Did Eoin deserve that? No, he’d been rather polite for a dragon, she imagined, but anything that big and deadly deserved to be treated with caution. Something Ken didn’t know how to do.

  “Really?” He took a step toward the exit.

  She shook her head. Werewolves. “You have an appointment.” She gave him a playful swat on the shoulder.

  “You’re in room three, Ken.” Beth had returned to her desk. “Go in and shift. Angie will be right there.” Her best friend must have heard Eoin leave, and probably their whole conversation. There was only so much privacy with werewolves in the building. Beth hugged herself, her face pale and drawn.

  Ken’s gaze moved from Angie to Beth and back again as if trying to decide whether he wanted to be caught in the middle. He shook his head and departed for room three in the pregnant silence.

  “Are you okay?” Beth scanned Angie from head to toe. Angie didn’t blame her for leaving when Eoin told her to. The omega didn’t have a drop of fighter’s blood in her veins.

  “I’m fine.” Angie held out her arms and spun. “See, not a nibble.”

  Beth’s frown grew deeper. “Except you agreed to go to his castle tonight.”

  “What would you have me do? At least he’s offering me danger pay.” Angie grinned to take the sting out of her words. She didn’t want Beth fretting about Eoin all day and night.

  Beth’s bottom lip quivered. “I don’t like this.” She hurried around the desk and into Angie’s waiting arms. “You should call Ryota. He won’t let you go alone.”

  “Oh my God, Beth. Tell me you didn’t call him.”

  She shook her head. “I was too afraid Eoin would hear me. We should call him now. I don’t like this dragon’s sudden interest in you.”

  Angie pushed the omega away to look her in the eye. “He’s not asking me out on a date.” Beth’s worries were settling her own doubts about going to Eoin’s castle. This was just business. “He needs help and he’ll be a new paying customer.” Eoin hadn’t threatened her. As long as she kept her mouth shut everything would be fine.

  “You shouldn’t go alone.”

  Sighing, Angie mentally went through her short list of friends and only one seemed likely to calm Beth. “I’ll ask Ken.” He was part of Beth’s pack, and unbelievably, Ryota’s second.

  Beth took a deep shaky breath. “Okay, that seems reasonable.”

  The click of claws on the shop’s tiled floors drew their attention. Ken stood in the hallway in his glorious bipedal beast form. White-tipped grey fur covered his body as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Ask me what?” A claw tipped finger glinted in the dim morning light as he tapped it on his forearm.

  Angie threw her hands up in the air. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you while I work on your back. I can already see my next appointment walking up the street.” So much for being on schedule. “Offer Mrs. Gambindini a muffin while she’s waiting,” she whispered to Beth.

  Ken scratched his shoulder. “I’m ready.” His smile in beast form would have made the average human pee themselves. Sharp canines did not express reassurance.

  She followed him into room three. “Lay on the table.”

  “Sounds like your lover’s spat with Ryota is growing serious.” Ken lay prone so she could examine his fur. Everyone got a quick flea check prior to scratching. She couldn’t afford an infestation.

  “We’re not lovers anymore. I broke up with him.”

  “He agreed to that?” She wished he didn’t sound so surprised.

  “I can’t believe you just said that. Doesn’t matter if he agrees or not.” Besides Beth, Ken was the closest thing to a friend she had in the city. They had met at a fundraiser for the state orphanage where she’d grown up. She’d been handing out lemonade and he’d been spiking his. He’d lived at the orphanage until the local pack adopted him. He’d introduced her to Ryota when she’d opened the shop.

  “That’s how it works in the pack.”

  She snorted. “Thank God, I’m not pack.” Something jumped in Ken’s fur and startled her. “Shit, don’t move.”

  He went rigid. “Did you see something?” His voice rose to an unmanly octave. Oddly cute on such a big shifter.

  She parted his fur and she inched her way across his hide. A flea jumped from amid her fingers. “Fucker.” She moved faster, chasing the parasite through the coarse strands of fur until she impaled it between her sharp nails. “Got it.” She held it under the werewolf’s nose. “You, Mister, have fleas.”

  “When I change to human form, shouldn’t they go away?” He contorted his body as he tried to scratch his own back.

  She shrugged. “You would think so, but I don’t know anything about magic. I do know this is your second appointment this week.” Bending over, she searched through her cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “Wash in your beast form with this. It should do the trick.”

  He scanned the bottle. “What is it?”

  “All natural flea bath made with tea tree oil.” She grinned as his lip curled. “Free of charge if you give me a ride up to the dragon’s castle tonight.”

  “I would have given you the ride without the bribe.” He made as if to lie back on the table.

  “Uh-uh. Out you go.”

  “But you haven’t scratched my back yet.”

  “You’re contagious and until you fix your flea problem, no service.”

  With a snarling growl, he jumped to his feet.

  She broke eye contact and stared at the floor. “It’s not personal, Ken. It’s shop policy. What if it gets out that there are fleas here? I’d lose business. I’m just starting to get out of the red.” No matter how friendly she was with a werewolf, she’d never be able to let her guard down enough to be herself.

  Beth was the only one. She’d taught Angie the right body language to use to avoid confrontations. Angie wouldn’t be considered a threat if she made a plea to Ken’s business sense.

  “Is the money good enough for you to consider opening a second shop across town?” Ken leaned against the edge of the table as if nothing had occurred. Pack life sucked, in Angie’s opinion. The roller coaster of emotions running through a werewolf was exhausting.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “No.”

  He sniffed the bottle of flea shampoo and grimaced. “Smells like shit.”

  “It’ll leave your fur conditione
d and silky. The females will want to roll all over you.”

  “If that’s true, you might need to open a second shop just to sell this stuff.” He chuckled. “I knew I shouldn’t have run with that pack of dogs. That’s probably where I caught the fleas.”

  Angie raised her eyebrow. The word dog had many meanings among the werewolves, so she wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “Running is part of my new exercise plan.” He patted his flat stomach. “But I hate to run alone and most of my pack mates are early birds, where I’m a night owl. There’s a pack of stray dogs roaming the alleys by my place.” He stared at the shampoo. “Maybe I should buy a few more bottles.”

  “For the strays?”

  He nodded. “Someone should watch out for them.”

  She rolled her eyes and pulled out more bottles. “On the house.” She hated it when Ken strummed her heartstrings. He knew all her notes. As orphans, they’d both been considered strays of human kind.

  He grinned. “Thanks, Ang.”

  “You better not come back with fleas. Wash those dogs good.”

  He set the bottles aside and started shifting.

  She hurried from the room to give him privacy. Watching shifters change shape poured too much envy in her blood.

  Beth sat at her desk, another muffin in hand. “Will Ken go with you?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Angie nodded to her next customer. “Room two is ready if you’d like to go shift.”

  Ken joined them and set the bottles on the desk. “Not one word about this to the pack, Beth.”

  She smirked and pretended to zip her lips. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Why exactly are we visiting the dragon?” He grabbed a muffin and wolfed it down in one bite. “You never told me your long story. Dragons are a bad idea.”

  How did he manage to speak with his mouth so full and not choke?

  “We were interrupted by your tenants.” Angie glanced at room two. She’d never get out in time to have dinner and a shower if she kept being stalled. “Beth can give you the details. We have to be there at seven, so don’t be late, okay? I don’t want Eoin greeting us with a bottle of ketchup in his hands.”

  “Hey Ang,” Ken called.

  She paused on her way to room two. “What?”

  “The sink in room one is plugged up something fierce.”

  She rubbed her temples. Every day something different broke.

  “Do you want me to call the plumber?” Beth offered.

  “No, I’ll look at it first.” Since opening the shop, she’d collected small amount of tools. She owned a pipe wrench. Maybe if she whacked the sink enough it would unplug.

  Eoin pulled up to his home and parked his Harley in the detached garage. The urge to itch had almost made him pull to the side of the road. Only the thought of hidden paparazzi taking photos of him kept him on his bike. It was the longest trip ever. He jogged inside the castle.

  Once across the threshold, he came to a halt in the grand foyer as a breeze blew in from behind and stirred the loose leaves across the floor. A pile had gathered in the far corner of the foyer across from the broken stained glass window. Eoin took a step inside, his gaze following the sunlight to the cobwebs decorating the ceiling and the chandelier. The candles in the chandelier had melted away long ago, leaving piles of wax on the dusty metal. He’d forgotten to fix the busted window. That was—what?—five years ago when his roar had shattered it? He couldn’t even remember what had upset him.

  Crossing the foyer, he stopped at the entrance to the dining hall. Broken glass littered the floor. The remains of the charred table stood in the center of the room. He recalled how elegant his home had been not long ago when he’d first moved here. The local humans and supernaturals had wanted to meet with him. To ease their fears, he’d thrown a ball. Food and wine had flowed freely all night. That had only been a century ago.

  Maybe he should hire a maid.

  He rubbed his chin. The place had taken a beating over the last decade and had a whole retro-abandoned thing going on. The petite not-a-she-dragon might not return to finish treating his scale rot if she thought him poor. She would arrive later this evening and there were no second chances at making a first impression. He’d already failed, but his home didn’t have to. Maybe he could clean before Angie arrived? Scowling, he turned his back on the dining room. He couldn’t afford to alienate her. She held his health in her sharp-nailed hands.

  She also possessed secrets. Shifter ancestry or not, her smell wouldn’t leave him. She was in every breath he took. He liked secrets. Either way, he needed to not frighten her away until the scale rot was taken care of and he figured out why she smelled of she-dragon. Both were equally important to him.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed his tattoo artist and oldest friend. The answering service picked up since it was still daylight. “Viktor, I need you to gather what information you can on the human who runs the back-scratching service off Newman Ave. I need it as soon as possible.” He cut off the call. The vampire ran a tattoo parlor but he also had a wide network of friends within the supernatural community. Viktor owed Eoin.

  He stripped of his t-shirt and jeans, tossing them at the entrance before shifting to dragon form. The process wasn’t painful for him like for most shifters. Or maybe, with age came tolerance and he didn’t even register the discomfort anymore. Either way, the process didn’t take long. Black scales covered his skin as spikes rose from his spine. Sharp horns grew from his head and his glorious wings extended from his shoulder blades.

  With a swish of his thick tail, he cleared the broken glass from the foyer floor. He closed the double doors to the dining hall. She wouldn’t need to go in there. A few strong beats of his wings had the leaves blowing out the front door.

  He’d ready the ballroom. It had the space they needed. The architect who had designed the area had spared no expense. God knew what state that room was in at present.

  Chapter Seven

  Angie pulled out a work polo from her laundry basket and smoothed the wrinkles. Maybe she should iron it? She rolled her eyes. What was she doing? It wasn’t a date. Actually, he’d seen her covered in sweat, wearing flip-flops and a ketchup-stained shirt, so clean clothes would be taking a step up. She’d made quite an impression on Eoin when they’d met. Looking professional wouldn’t erase his memory of the pepper spray.

  Using her apartment building’s Laundromat after work had taken longer than she’d expected so she only had enough time for a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner. Maybe she’d make another to go. Her stomach ached with hunger. She’d only had a bowl of cereal for breakfast, since her toaster malfunctioned yesterday, and she hadn’t had time to run home for lunch. It didn’t help that Beth kept trying to order in meals, but without knowing the gender of the cook, Angie wouldn’t touch the food.

  She set the polo on her bed next to her work khakis, the ones she should have been wearing these last two days if she’d done the laundry sooner. She needed to shop for more durable uniforms. Shifter fur was difficult to get off clothes. She’d tried everything from ice to hair spray to special pet brushes, but the small coarse hairs worked themselves into the fabric. What did employees at those grooming places wear?

  Aprons…that was the ticket.

  Before she could add the idea to her to-do list, someone knocked on her door. Damn, Ken was early! She glanced down at her outfit, the comfy yoga pants and worn t-shirt she’d changed into after work. The shifter would just have to take a seat and wait while she finished getting ready. If he could find a chair. She’d used them to separate her clean from dirty laundry.

  She crossed her loft and opened the door and fisted her hands. “Ryota?”

  The alpha filled her doorway. “You don’t look ready.”

  “For what?” Angie recalled Ken’s comment about Ryota letting her break-up with him. Her stomach knotted. Did he think they were still an item?

  “To go to the dragon’s castle.” He brushed past her
and grimaced when he saw her apartment. “You should have let this place burn.”

  She gave him a slow blink. “I don’t recall discussing this with you.”

  He tossed her a smug look over his shoulder. “I’m alpha. You think either Ken or Beth would let you go there without letting me know?”

  Traitors. She’d never get Ryota out of her life if she continued hanging out with werewolves.

  “Don’t be angry with them, Angie. They have to answer to me, they can’t help it.”

  “Oh, I’m not angry with them.” She crossed her arms and got in his face. “But I asked Ken, not you, to accompany me.”

  “Ken’s busy with a flea bath. I offered to replace him.”

  “Out of the kindness of your heart?”

  He ran his fingertips along her chin. “You own my heart.”

  She jerked away. “Don’t give me that bullshit. Shifter hearts don’t have room for humans. Our relationship is good the way it is.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’re my client.” She stepped out of Ryota’s reach. “Please, go home.”

  “You’re brave enough to go to the dragon’s alone?” He didn’t budge.

  “I’m fine. When you abandoned me with Eoin, he kept his word and didn’t eat me.” Ryota had enough alpha testosterone coursing through his blood to have resisted Eoin’s demands for him to leave. If it had been Beth who the dragon had wanted privacy with, Angie was sure the fur and scales would have flown. “He was a gentleman today.” She ignored the memory of Eoin sniffing her and the image of Eoin wearing his wet transparent dress shirt, the way it had clung to the hard muscles hidden beneath… Oh, baby…

  She shook her head. Honestly, Eoin had better worry about her. Not the other way around.

  Angie returned Ryota’s glare. Ken would have been a more reliable ride. What if there was a pack emergency? She didn’t want to be abandoned at the castle all night long. She didn’t trust herself to be good.