by S. E. Smith
His symbiot shook off the snow accumulating on its back before releasing an annoyed sigh when more snow took its place. Brogan patted the symbiot, sending a burst of warmth and affection to it before turning his attention toward the house. His eyes narrowed when he saw Delilah and a human male standing in the dining room.
His eyes flared with a savage emotion when he saw the man lean into her. From this angle, it looked like the man was going to drape his body over Delilah right there on the dining room table. He started forward across the yard.
What you going to do? his dragon demanded, fire building in his throat.
“I’m going to rip his head off,” Brogan savagely replied.
Striding through the deep troughs in the snow that he and Barrack had created for the dogs and Delilah, he sprang up the stairs to the porch. He pulled open the back screen door and pushed open the door to the mudroom. The door behind him had barely shut before he did the same to the kitchen door.
He saw Barrack look up as he came in. The look of warning on his brother’s face changed to resignation when he swept past him. He heard Barrack’s faint warning to not kill the man, but his eyes were glued on the face smiling down at Delilah.
The human looked up and saw him. Brogan didn’t bother hiding the flames in his eyes or deadly intent in them. The human’s face paled and a sheen of sweat appeared on the man’s forehead.
Delilah’s body stiffened and she straightened. When she turned her head to look at him, the message was clear – we have guests and your dragon is showing.
“Yay, you’re back just in time for some hot chocolate and cake… and as you can see, we have guests,” she greeted with a forced cheerfulness.
Brogan didn’t care that his dragon was showing. He did care that the man was too close to Delilah. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her against his body and stepped back, taking her with him.
“Brogan…,” she began, placing her hands over his.
“I thought you said his name was Barrack?” the man replied in confusion.
“I am Barrack. This is my twin, Brogan,” Barrack dryly replied.
The man swallowed again. “There are two of you? I mean, there are two of you. Which one…?” a confused expression crossed the man’s face as he stared back and forth between the two of them.
Brogan realized what the man was talking about when the human’s gaze settled on Delilah. He tightened his arm around her waist when she tried to push them away. He wanted the human to know that Delilah was off limits.
“She is ours,” Brogan said, his voice deep and rough from his dragon being so close to the surface.
“Yours? As in… both?” the man stuttered.
“Alright! I do believe the hot chocolate is ready. Brogan, why don’t you help me carry the drinks in? Bubba Joe, can you let the other guys know to come into the dining room?” Delilah asked in a sweet but firm tone.
Brogan winced when he felt her elbow him in the stomach. She twisted in his arms and grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him behind her. The moment they were in the kitchen, she looked to make sure that none of the others could hear her.
“Do not act like a Neanderthal in my home. Do not embarrass me in front of my friends. But most of all, DO NOT LET THEM KNOW YOU ARE AN ALIEN!” she hissed.
“He was practically draped over you on the table,” Brogan growled, pointing back at the dining room.
“I don’t care if he had an apple in my mouth and had me laid out on a silver platter. Barrack and you would be in danger if anyone knew you were aliens. My world….” She paused and took in a deep breath. “My world would freak out if they knew about you two. They would hunt you down and do mean, stupid, horrible things to you… and me,” she explained in a quiet voice. “I also happen to like the men in there – save one who I only tolerate because it is fun to watch him run from the dogs. I live here, Brogan. This is my home. I don’t want people… I don’t want Bubba Joe or Rudy or even DeWayne to think of me as some sort of slut.”
Brogan could feel the hurt in her through his symbiot. He looked over her shoulder as the other men shuffled in, warily looking into the kitchen at him. Barrack had remained at the entrance to the two rooms, making sure that the men didn’t come any farther, while still being able to hear what Delilah was saying.
“Forgive me, Delilah,” he murmured, realizing that he had let his jealousy endanger them all.
Delilah gave him a rueful smile. “I’m not ashamed of my feelings for you or Barrack. We just have to be careful. Come on, the sooner they eat and drink, the sooner I can kick all of them out,” she sighed.
“I like that,” Brogan admitted with a sly grin. “I will pour the drinks.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Exactly one hour later, Delilah stood on the porch watching the three men leave. She wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered. Almost immediately, she felt two warm bodies on each side of her.
“You were supposed to wait in the house until they were gone,” she said, not looking at either man.
“They are gone – enough,” Barrack quipped.
She shook her head and turned back toward the house. “You two are bad,” she retorted.
Delilah stepped into the house when Brogan pulled the screen door open. The two Rottweilers darted past her and up the stairs. She knew exactly where they were going – her bedroom. Thank goodness she had spread a thin blanket across the bed to protect the comforter. She shook her head when she heard the sound of the door closing when one of them – probably Moonshine – hit it too hard, causing it to swing closed. She’d have to remember to go rescue them in a bit.
“Bad in a very good way,” Brogan replied, deepening his voice.
She felt her body react to the tenor of his voice. “I swear you two have a one-track mind!”
“Yes!” they both agreed with a grin.
Shaking her head, she walked down the hall and into the kitchen. She filled the sink with warm, soapy water and began piling the dirty dishes into it. They had turned on the whole house generator while the guys were here so they could use the restrooms and she could have water. She wanted to get everything cleaned up before she turned it back off. She didn’t want to think of what her next fuel bill would be.
“Can you get the rest of the dishes off the table?” she asked.
“Yes,” Brogan replied.
He returned to the dining room and gathered the rest of the dishes while she started washing them. Barrack was rinsing them and placing them on the drainer. They were almost done when Brogan stiffened and turned his head. A moment later, Delilah heard a knock on the door.
She looked at the men and shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. The storm is picking up again; no one should be out,” she said, drying her hands on a dish towel.
She handed the towel to Brogan and walked down the hall to the front door. Peering out, she frowned when she saw two men standing on the front porch. Opening the door, she sighed when she saw one of the men was DeWayne.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“Can… can… we… come… in, Delilah? I’m freezing!” DeWayne asked, his teeth chattering. “Rudy’s… snowmobile broke down. He… and Bubba Joe… have gone to get… to get Bubba’s uncle’s big truck. We couldn’t fit three of us… on it.
Delilah’s eyes went to the other man standing quietly next to DeWayne. Her gaze went to his truck and she saw the logo for the local power company. She couldn’t believe the power company would send someone out in this weather, but then again, she realized that was exactly what they would do.
“Come on in. DeWayne, you can defrost in the sitting room. I’ll turn the fire up,” she said.
She stepped to the side to let DeWayne pass her. She was in the process of turning back to the power guy when a startled squeak escaped her. The man wrapped one arm around her neck and lifted a gun in the other hand. Her eyes widened in horror when she heard the muffled sound of a thud and DeWayne stumbled forward a step bef
ore he collapsed, a large red stain spreading from the small, black hole in the back of his jacket.
The cry on her lips died when the man turned the gun to her head. He caught the door with his foot and slammed it shut. Delilah stumbled when he took a step to the side.
“Tell the other man to come out,” the man quietly ordered.
Fear choked Delilah. Her dragon roared, wanting to shift, but she was afraid that any sudden movement would endanger her. The symbiots could heal a lot of wounds, but not a direct shot to the head.
“I don’t…,” she started to say before her voice faded in a strangle gasp when he tightened his arm around her neck.
“I saw him, sweetheart,” the man whispered in her ear. “Don’t make me put a bullet in your pretty body too soon. We can make this as easy or as difficult as you want. Now… call him.”
Delilah nodded. “Barrack…,” she called in a trembling voice. “Barrack… I…,” her voice faded once again when she saw Barrack step into the hallway.
Remain calm, little fighter. This human thinks there is just one of us. Brogan is moving into a better position. We will not allow him to hurt you, Barrack reassured her.
Delilah heard the generator stutter and cut off. The light in the hallway went out. It was still light outside, but growing dimmer thanks to the storm. She could see Barrack’s glare move to the man holding her.
DeWayne needs help. He isn’t dead. I can hear his heart beating, but he is hurt really bad, Delilah said.
She looked down to where DeWayne lay on the floor partially in the front foyer and partially in the sitting room. Biting her lip, she focused on one of the symbiot bracelets on her wrists. It resisted her instructions at first. The creature didn’t want to leave her and didn’t want to touch DeWayne.
Please… Please help him… for me, she begged.
It took several pleas before the symbiot bracelet dissolved, flowed under her clothing and pooled on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it slip inside DeWayne’s clothing. Warmth from the other bracelet filled her and she looked up to see Barrack watching her. He knew what she had done.
Where are the other symbiots? she asked.
They have arrived, he replied.
“What do you want? I mean, if you came here to rob me, you made a huge mistake. I’m just a librarian. We don’t make a lot of money. I also don’t have much of value here except some of the antiques, and I don’t see you carting those away in this weather,” Delilah said.
She knew she was babbling, but she hoped that if she could distract the man, Brogan and the symbiots would have the time they needed to rescue her.
“Shut up,” the man said.
Delilah frowned. That was not the reaction she was expecting. Her lips pressed together when he nodded his head at Barrack.
“Get down on the floor, hands out. One false move and I put a bullet in her brain,” the man stated.
Barrack’s mouth tightened into a straight line before he slowly lowered himself to his knees and slid forward so that he was lying on his stomach. Her heart hammered in her chest. The man tightened his hold around her neck before dropping his arm and firing two shots directly into the center of Barrack’s back – there was no warning, no threats, nothing but the two consecutive shots.
Delilah screamed and began fighting. Horror and pain shot through her. Her dragon howled with anguish and rage. She frantically tried to remove the symbiot on her wrist so she could give it to Barrack.
Harsh sobs choked her more than the arm threatening to cut off her oxygen. She didn’t care. Her only concern was to help Barrack.
“No!! No! Let me go. How could you? Why?” she sobbed.
He shot Barrack. Oh, God! Please, Brogan. He shot Barrack in the back, she cried, out of her mind in grief.
She fell to her knees when the man suddenly released her with a thrust between her shoulder blades. Scrambling on all fours, she bent over Barrack’s still body. The symbiot on her wrist melted and disappeared into the two holes. Afraid the man would attack again before the symbiot could heal Barrack, Delilah draped herself over his body to shield him. Turning her head toward the man, she looked up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Why? Who are you? What do you want?” she whispered in a barely audible voice.
The man shrugged. “You should have signed the papers when you were asked to do so, Ms. Rosewater,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick bundle of papers. He tossed the bundle on the floor next to her along with a black pen. “Sign the paper where it is highlighted.”
Delilah stared at the bundle of white papers in confusion. Her eyes moved to where DeWayne was lying flat on the floor. Had DeWayne been a part of this?
“DeWayne…,” she began to say in an uneven voice.
“Mr. Davis is nothing more than a small town attorney who failed to deliver. Now, sign the papers,” the man instructed.
Delilah shook her head. “What good would it do? I’d contest anything that was signed under duress.”
“Oh, there won’t be any contesting. Now, sign the papers or I’ll start putting bullets in you,” the man warned.
Delilah’s hands shook as she picked up the bundle of papers and unfolded it. A quick skim of the pages told her everything she needed to know. That bastard, Olie Ray Lister, was behind this. Fury ignited within her. Her fingers curled around the papers and she looked up at the man with eyes that held the flames of her dragon in them.
“What the fuck?!” the man hissed.
A creak on the stairs and a menacing snarl filled the air. The man looked up at the stairs and fired several shots, his eyes panicked and disbelieving. The shots hit Barrack’s symbiot, Whiskey, but the golden creature merely opened its mouth and coughed up the bullets. The man stumbled to the front door.
“What is that thing?” he hissed.
Delilah watched his gaze moved to her as she stood up. She knew that Brogan was on the other side of the door waiting for the man. Brogan’s symbiot, Gin, stepped out from the sitting room to stand between her and the man at the door.
“Your shit-out-of-luck card,” she informed him as her features began to partially shift into her dragon. “Whiskey, heal Barrack.”
“What are you?” Earl choked out in shock when Delilah Rosewater’s face began to transform.
He watched as swirls of what looked like scales began to appear along both of her cheeks and down her neck. Her hazel eyes had a strange flame in them and her pupils looked elongated. The gold creature on the stairs lost its form and passed through the spindles of the railing, then flowed over the man he had shot in the back.
He swallowed when another golden creature in the shape of a huge cat stepped out of the sitting room and snarled at him. Twelve inches or longer fangs caught the dwindling light from outside. He turned his gun on the creature and emptied the last few rounds into the monster before reaching under his coat and pulling out another gun.
This one he aimed at Delilah. He started to empty his gun into her, but the fanged creature rose up and absorbed the bullets before they reached her. Twisting the doorknob, he yanked open the door and turned to flee. He made it as far as the third step before he looked at where his burning truck was parked.
He started to turn and retrace his steps, but froze when the gold creature walked out of the door. Stumbling on the steps, he lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground. He rolled onto his stomach and started to push up when dread washed through him. Looking up, he stared into the flaming eyes of death.
His lips opened in a scream that never came. Instead, an eerie blue flame surrounded him. In the briefest fraction of a second, his brain registered the fact that his outstretched arm with the pistol in it was disintegrating before his eyes. All other thought was gone as nothing but the fine ash of his remains blew across the snow-covered ground, mingling with new-fallen snow from the sky.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Delilah sank down onto the floor next
to where Barrack was still face-down on the floor. She released a startled cry when he groaned and tried to push up into a sitting position. Her arms shot out to steady him when he trembled, and he ended up lying on his back. He shook his head as if to clear it and looked up into her eyes.
“Brogan?” he muttered in a harsh voice.
Delilah looked out of the open front door. She could see Brogan sweeping his tail over the area where he had toasted the man. Brogan turned his head and his eyes locked on her face. She gave him a wan smile, knowing that her lip was trembling. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to shake uncontrollably.
She pulled her gaze away. Lifting her hands to cup Barrack’s cheeks, she studied his face, then leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his. She couldn’t hold in the sound of her sob.
“I thought you were dead. Oh, God, I thought you were dead,” she whispered, breaking down and burying her face against his throat.
He twisted until he was sitting on the floor, and pulled her onto his lap. He held her as she cried. No book could ever have prepared her for what had happened this time.
The sound of a muffled moan finally broke through her crying. She turned her head and looked over at DeWayne. He groaned and rolled over onto his side.
“What’d I do this time, Delilah? Damn, but you know how to hit,” DeWayne moaned before he shook his head and sat up, blinking as he looked out of the front door. “Do you know you have the door open?”
“Yes,” Delilah answered with a sniff.
“Do you know that it is snowing again?” DeWayne muttered, rubbing at his eyes.
“Yes, DeWayne, I know that it is snowing again,” she replied with a sigh.
DeWayne rubbed his eyes and blinked again. “Do you know that you have a dragon in your front yard?” he asked in a voice that was barely audible.
Delilah giggled. “Yes, DeWayne. I know I have a dragon in my front yard,” she replied before she looked down at the papers on the floor. “DeWayne, I need to ask you something and tell you something. If I’m your client, you have to keep it quiet, no matter what, right?”
