Dangerous Decisions (Obsidian Flame Book 3)

by J. C. McKenzie

  “We shouldn’t be here.” Misha glanced around the diner.

  “I know what you’re planning to say next,” Lara said.

  Misha sat back in her seat. “I highly doubt that.”

  Lara placed her coffee cup on the table and leaned toward Misha. “It probably involves the phrase ‘security risk,’ but I don’t want to hear it. With you by my side, I’m practically invincible.”

  Misha squirmed in her seat. Guilt punched her in the gut. Her friend had too much confidence in her abilities…and her character.

  “I have a problem,” Lara spoke in a low co-conspirator whisper.

  Misha spread her arms on the back rest, forcing the tension from her muscle. “You have many problems. Can you be more specific?”

  “It’s Raf.”

  Misha winced and held her hand out toward Lara. “Please, I’m not into that kind of girl talk.”

  “It’s not that.” Lara smacked Misha’s hand out of the way while a blush crept up her neck and face. “Definitely not that.”

  “Then what is it?” Misha asked.

  “It’s this whole mate thing. I knew dragon mates were ridiculously overprotective, but Raf’s taken it to a whole new level.”

  “He let you out, didn’t he?”

  “Only because you’re with me and we were supposed to take Hank with us.”

  Misha straightened and glanced around the diner. The mention of her mate’s name invoked both fear and anticipation. Her heartbeat picked up and her scalp prickled. “How’d you hide a giant ginger?”

  “I didn’t,” Lara hissed. “Why are you still scanning the diner?”

  Misha frowned. “I’m your bodyguard?”

  Lara rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you seem more concerned with Hank’s whereabouts than my current predicament. You can relax. He’s not going to pop out from behind the counter. I didn’t hide him anywhere. I ditched him and now my brother’s going to be pissed at me. More pissed.”

  Her what now? Lara never mentioned any siblings before. They weren’t even talking about her family. They were talking about Hank… “Hold up. Brother?”

  Lara smacked her face with her palm. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “Hank’s your brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in…” As in what the fuck? Not only was Hank her mate, but her best friend’s brother? Her brain short-circuited.

  Father killed Lara’s parents, who were also Hank’s parents. He’d never want her now. Pain stabbed at her heart.

  Lara stared at her while she stumbled to find the words. What exactly was Misha trying to say?

  “As in we have the same biological parents,” Lara finally said. “Geez. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal.”

  “Okay, fine. It is, but I have a lot to cover and I don’t think it’s going to take Hank long to track us down.”

  Misha cast another weary glance around the diner before she relaxed into the seat. Maybe they could get through all the talking points and she’d escape before Hank found them. “Well, then. You better start talking before your giant ginger brother finds us and hauls you back to your caveman mate.”

  While Lara quickly filled Misha in, Misha kept glancing at the diner door expecting Hank or Raf to barge through any minute. He’d find them, eventually. He would’ve tagged Lara’s phone and car. That’s what she would’ve done in his place.

  Misha listened intently while Lara explained how she’d escaped ispolini assassins as a child and how Hank hid in plain sight. Misha already knew most of what her friend revealed. She struggled to control her face from exposing her knowledge. Act surprised. Ask questions as if you don’t already know the answer. Instead, she stared at her friend like the village idiot while guilt and disgust twisted her into a knot. Luckily, Lara quickly moved on to detail the lengths Raf had gone to in order to ensure her safety.

  “I kind of get it,” Misha said when Lara looked at her expectantly.

  “Traitor.”

  Misha swallowed the stomach acid threatening to rise up her throat. “You’re everything to Raf. He’s replaced his horde with you. I’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried about your safety.”

  “Can you at least agree he’s gone overboard?”

  Misha nodded. “His methods are a little…”

  “I’m a dragon shifting bodyguard with two swords, a gun and combat magic.”

  “…excessive.”

  “You don’t get it. You don’t understand how the walls are closing in on me.”

  More than you know. Misha bit her tongue.

  “I’ve spent years on my own, making my own decisions, taking my own risks and having to pass nothing by anyone else. Ugh.” Lara crossed her arms and sat back.

  “I get it,” Misha said.

  Lara glared.

  “Okay, maybe I don’t get this specific situation, but I can empathize. Raf’s methods are borderline draconian… or should I say, dragonian?” A smile tugged at Misha’s lips.

  Lara continued to glare. Tough crowd.

  “Don’t sulk.” Misha flipped her hair out of her face. “I’m hilarious.”

  “I’m not sulking.”

  “Are, too.”

  “Am not.”

  Misha sat back in the booth and pushed her mug out in front of her on the table. “You sound ridiculous. Raf is also being ridiculous. But I’ve read the news articles. The dragons recently had a massive battle with…what are they called…isp…ispaghetti…ispolili…”

  “Ispolini.”

  “Yeah. Them.” God, she was such a liar. “The reporters have gone nuts covering the wreckage and making outlandish theories.” Misha took a sip of coffee to hide her grimace. “You should be careful. What if more of them are out there? You’d be all they’d need to lure Raf away from his fortress.”

  “I have you.”

  Misha glanced away. Lara had her until either the truth came out or Misha ran away. A weird silence settled over their booth.

  “Don’t I?”

  Misha whipped her attention back to her. “Of course. It’s just…”

  “Just?”

  Misha bit her lip. This was her chance. “I’m not like you. I’m not a dragon-shifting badass. I’m not going to be enough if a group of giants attack you.”

  Lara’s shoulders dropped. She reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’d rather have you beside me than anyone else.”

  Misha flashed a small smile. No. That’s not what she meant to say. Coward! Make a decision and stick to it.

  “But if it’s too much to ask, I understand,” Lara said.

  Even now, plagued with her own issues, Lara thought about Misha’s concerns. Misha sighed, maybe if she knew a little more, it would help her make the fight or flight decision. “Why do the ispolini hate you guys so much, anyway?”

  “Not sure. But it’s intense enough for them to go after babies.” Lara clenched her hands into fists. “If adults want to hurt each other, that’s one thing, but innocent, defenceless babies? The ispolini crossed a line, but they’ve already made it clear they wouldn’t conform to any rules of engagement.”

  Misha cringed and swallowed her own rage and disgust. She’d been sixteen when she found out about the baby culling and tried to run away. Only four years her senior, Marian had been tasked with bringing her back. He’d told her she had the power and position to change things from within. Total lies, but she’d bought it.

  “It all started when the ispolini killed the Astarot’s true mate,” Lara’s. “The legend says they used her bond to create a curse, but that turned out to be a fabrication. In truth, the ispolini had murdered women and children to make all of the Astarots believe they were cursed.” Lara stared at the table top. “So that begs the question, what else is a lie? What’s true? I wish I knew more.”

  “Can’t you find out? Don’t the dragons keep records?” Misha tried to keep her voice calm and even. She didn’t want to re
veal the hope bubbling up inside her.

  Lara shook her head. “The dragon records are incomplete. Apparently, a number of sacred texts went up in flames when a jealous lover threw a hissy fit in one of the Astarot’s libraries over a century ago.”

  Misha tapped her fingers on the table. “The ispolini killing a dragon mate explains why the dragons hate the ispolini, but it doesn’t explain why the giants killed the mate in the first place. They must’ve had a reason. They must’ve already hated dragons to do something like that. Why? Was it a mistake? A misunderstanding?”

  Lara frowned. “A mistake? How do you kill someone by mistake? Where would you get an idea like that?”

  Well crap. She couldn’t exactly explain she got the idea from Nana. Misha shrugged, hoping the movement came off casual. “Aren’t all tragedies or great wars the result of someone fucking up?”

  “Good point,” Lara said. “I’ve read some of the surviving books housed in Raf’s library. You should see these things. They’re so old their spines creak with age and dust lifts off their pages just like in the movies. If magic hadn’t been used to preserve them, the paper would’ve crumbled to dust.”

  “And?”

  “And they contained nothing. One of the really old books mentions something called the zmei.”

  Misha hesitated. The zmei? No. Lara must be mistaken. What did the legendary super dragons from Bulgarian bed time stories have to do with the ispolini-dragon feud? Instead of speaking, she reached for the handle of her mug and turned it back and forth on the table. “What the heck is that?”

  Lara scowled. “No fucking idea. I searched the term on the internet and in Bulgarian legends, the zmei is described as a serpent-like monster with scales, wings and a fish-like tale.”

  Misha lifted the mug to her lips. Act casual. Act normal. “Sounds an awful lot like a dragon.”

  “Exactly. Which makes no sense. The ispolini hate dragons because they’re scared of dragons? Could it be that simple?”

  Misha set the mug down. “It wouldn’t be the first time war erupted because one group was scared of something different or something they didn’t understand.”

  “I agree. This sounds like something a lot more heated and personal, though. Not just intolerance. I want to find out so I can end the feud. I don’t want any more deaths. I don’t want to live my life in a glorified prison. I don’t want to worry about my future kids getting snatched off the streets because of an age’s old vendetta that no one knows the origins of. I want this over.”

  Misha nodded along to her rant. “That’s what I wish for as well.”

  Lara sighed. “You’ve been involved in this feud for all of five minutes and you’re already taking up my cause. I’m never letting you go, Misha. You’re a good friend.”

  The blood drained from Misha’s face and the room wavered. She couldn’t go on like this. Lara needed to hear the truth. “Lara—”

  The bell above the diner door jingled. Lara looked away from Misha and sighed again. “Girl time is over.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Misha froze in the booth. Her phone vibrated against her thigh in her pocket. She was not answering the call. Nope. Not when Hank’s spicy scent rushed forward and curled around her. Misha’s back faced the diner’s entrance, but she didn’t need look behind her to know who stomped through the greasy diner toward them.

  “Hello, brother,” Lara crooned and waved at the spot beside Misha. “Care to join us?”

  Hank glowered in answer. His subtle cologne wound around her like an invisible lasso and tugged.

  Lara flailed her arms and sank back in the booth.

  Misha’s phone continued to vibrate. She ignored it.

  Hank turned to her. His hard expression softened a little and he jerked his chin at her lap. “Are you going to get that?”

  “Nah.” She pushed the cell phone farther into her pocket. Dang these dragons and their super hearing. She had no wish to answer the call and have Father yell at her while her “evil” dragon companions overheard the entire conversation. What the hell was she supposed to do? If Father found out she’d agreed to be Lara’s security detail, he’d punish her.

  Or use her.

  Misha shivered.

  Her father was not an understanding or forgiving man, but handing over her friend wasn’t an option either. She’d only agreed to Lara’s offer so they could leave Raf’s compound and have a private conversation without Raf’s guards monitoring them.

  Misha sighed. As much as every cell in her body leapt to attention in Hank’s presence, he ruined her plan.

  She hadn’t decided what to tell Lara—the truth or something else, but if she planned to protect Lara, she had to cut herself from her friend’s life. Immediately. And in a believable way so Lara wouldn’t try to change her mind and Father-Dearest wouldn’t suspect she’d sabotaged his efforts to destroy the Astarot and his mate.

  Hank narrowed his eyes at her briefly before turning back to Lara. “Your little playdate is over. Raf is waiting for you in the car.”

  Lara groaned and scooted to the edge of the booth. The leather creaked. She glanced at Misha and flashed her a sad smile. “We didn’t even get to talk about the good stuff.”

  “There’s always next time.” Misha clamped her mouth shut. What the hell? What next time? That was the opposite of what she was supposed to say. Argh.

  “You should have thought about that before you snuck out of the estate like a second-rate thief,” Hank snarled at Lara. “We had a deal.”

  Lara held up her three middle fingers. “Read between the lines.”

  “What are you, twelve?” Hank said.

  “If you don’t want me acting like a child, stop treating me like one.”

  Hank crossed his arms. “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, then don’t act like one.”

  Lara growled.

  If Misha wasn’t dying in a pit of self-loathing, this brother-sister showdown would be hilarious.

  Lara took a deep breath. “I’m your sister and your Astarot’s mate and perfectly capable of defending myself. Maybe you should try to remember that.”

  “I snuck up on you because you were too busy bickering with your mate, and I wasn’t even trying to mask my approach. It only takes one moment of distraction.”

  “Like you’re perfect.”

  “I’d never drop my guard like that.”

  Lara sniffed.

  Hank pointed at the door. “We all have responsibilities, Lara. You’re not invincible and your ignorance and defiance might get you, or someone you care for…” He jerked his chin in Misha’s direction. “Hurt. Maybe you should try to remember that.”

  Lara shot Hank a death stare as she shouldered past him, blew Misha a kiss and stomped out of the diner. The doorbell jingled to announce her departure right before the door slammed shut.

  Misha sighed again and gathered her things. Her opportunity to come clean face to face with her one and only friend was gone. Maybe she could call Lara later. Misha slapped some bills on the table to cover their order and tip, and slid to the edge of the booth.

  Hank side-stepped to block her exit. The giant ginger loomed over her and his intoxicating scent threatened to lure her off to a magical world of orgasms.

  Oh my.

  Misha peered up the rock-solid body and glared. “Do you mind?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Oh, hell no. His words doused ice cold water on the heat rising in her core. No, they didn’t need to talk. Misha wanted to do all sorts of things with this man but talking wasn’t one of them. Besides, talking led to liking, which led to kissing, which led to all the fantasies running rampant in her head right now. If they talked, her fantasies might come true right before her demise and probably the deaths of all those she cared for. Including Hank. She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to stick to her decision to get the hell away from all-things-dragon for all their sakes. Potential mate or not. It would be best for Hank if she left now
and kept the fantasies where they belonged—in her dreams. Some things weren’t meant for reality.

  She pushed to the edge of the booth and turned. Her knees brushed against Hank’s legs.

  “There’s nothing to discuss,” she said. Energy vibrated along her leg from the physical contact and danced on her skin. She bit down and clenched her teeth. Hopefully, he didn’t feel a thing.

  Hank raised a red eyebrow. “Nothing, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  He placed a meaty hand down on the table beside her, the other on the booth’s backrest, and leaned down to cage her in. “I disagree.”

  “Lovely for you, and fun fact for me, I don’t exist to meet your needs or expectations. I also have a gun and a taser in my purse. Which one would you like me to shoot you with?”

  Hank’s smile turned predatory. “The energy your touch is shooting me with now is plenty enough, don’t you think?”

  Oh shit.

  “We need to talk about what you are and why I’m reacting to you like this.”

  Misha closed her purse. “I’m a human-fucking-being.” Well, mostly, at least. Kind of. Okay, not really. “I don’t owe you anything and I’m not responsible for how your body reacts. Control yourself and back the fuck off.”

  Hank’s expression closed down and he straightened. “My apologies if I frightened or offended. You fascinate me.”

  Misha lifted her chin and tried desperately to ignore her racing heartbeat.

  “Go out with me.”

  Misha sputtered. “What?”

  “I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “No.” Hadn’t her rejection of his lunch date offer been enough?

  He frowned. Probably not used to rejection, and probably not expecting her to dish it out twice in a row.

  “Do you often make a habit of physically intimidating potential dates before asking them out, or am I special?” She bit her tongue. Hank hadn’t intimidated her. At least not in the way she just implied.

  He backed up a step.

  That’s right, big guy. You’re not the only one with teeth. She slid from the booth and slung her purse over her shoulder.

  “My dragon senses are tingling.”