The Dragon Shifter’s Twins (BBW Paranormal Romance)

by T. S. Ryder

  “I need to return to the house and prepare a few.... things,” Letizia said.

  “We’ll drop you off on the way,” Henry said. “Come on,” he said to Agatha. He took her by the elbow and guided her outside. His voice and manners were so commanding, that Agatha offered no resistance as he led her out of her own house. There was a black town car sitting in her driveway next to her little red Ford. Once outside Henry was on high alert, his eyes scanning the tree line and the road as if he was expecting someone to be there.

  He opened the back door and then Agatha felt his firm hand on the small of her back guiding her. A tingle went up her spine at his touch and she couldn’t look him in the eye once she was seated.

  He drove with Letizia on the passenger side. She was speaking in rushed Italian and Agatha struggled to pick up on any familiar sounding words, but it was nothing but gibberish. He dropped Letizia off on Main Street and when she exited the car, Agatha got out as well.

  “Where are you going?” Henry demanded. But Agatha was just moving to the front seat.

  “You’re not my driver,” she said as she buckled her seatbelt.

  Chapter Four

  They drove down Main Street, an awkward silence hanging between them. Agatha couldn’t stop fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She wished she was dressed better. Her closet was filled with cute dresses and skirts, but instead, she was wearing a simple pair of tight jeans and a black t-shirt. Next to Henry, in his perfectly fitting, magically unwrinkled suit, she felt painfully bland and ugly.

  She glanced up at him a few times, but his eyes never left the road. He was frowning and shaking his head as if he were having some internal argument with himself.

  The Thompson Inn was over two hundred years old. The original building had burnt down in the thirties, but it had been rebuilt with gilded splendor. It was a large building with white colonnades and a wrap-around porch dotted with planters filled with brightly colorful flowers.

  Henry parked the car and walked around to the other side to open the door for Agatha. She wasn’t sure what to make of that gesture. She had never met a man who opened her doors for her. Most of the guys she met had never heard of chivalry and her last relationship had ended after she realized that she was never going to get back the two thousand dollars she lent him.

  Henry was taller than she was and she hurried to keep up with him as he took the steps two at a time into the Inn.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Crane,” a fawning waiter said, coming around from his stand to personally shake Henry’s hand while Agatha shifted from foot to foot. The waiter barely even glanced at her before he led them to a table near the window.

  “Two coffees and waters,” Henry said as menus were placed before them.

  “I’m not hungry,” Agatha said, not even bothering to open the menu. This was a lie, of course. She was famished. She hadn't eaten anything all day.

  “Nonsense, you have to eat something. Two cheese omelets with rye toast and a side of fruit,” he ordered for the both of them.

  “I don’t want food,” Agatha said in a heated whisper as she leaned across the table towards Henry. “I want to know why I found you naked in my backyard. And don’t try to give me that party boy nonsense because I don’t believe it.”

  “Why don’t you believe it?” He asked as he unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap.

  “Because you’re not a party boy,” Agatha continued. “You don’t go out to parties that leave you drunk and naked in people’s backyards. This is a small town, everyone knows everyone and everyone knows you.”

  He sighed and looked out the window into the afternoon sunlight. There were gray clouds on the horizon. It would storm tonight.

  She was going to do it. She was just going to straight up ask him. Was he a Werewolf? Did he transform into some mystical animal every time there was a full moon? Except, there wasn’t a full moon last night. There had been no moon out last night. So, then how did this all work?

  Before she could speak, a look of shaking anger came over Henry. He gritted his teeth and a horrible frown took over his entire face.

  “Don’t say anything,” he said to her, his voice terse and low.

  “What do you mean?” But just as she had finished asking her question they were joined by a third party.

  “Good day, brother,” a strange man said, as he sat down in an empty chair and reached across the table taking Agatha’s water glass and drinking it all in one sloppy gulp. The man was handsome, but in a completely different way than Henry. Henry had a strong jaw line and was always cleanly shaved, his dark hair was cut short and neatly styled to the side. But this stranger claiming to be his brother had a shaggy beard and his hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the top of his head. He was wearing a ripped shirt and skinny jeans. When he was finished with his drink, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Don’t call me brother,” Henry said in a low growl.

  “Why not? That’s what we are. I’m Marcus by the way,” he said leaning over towards Agatha and giving her a rakish grin.

  Agatha had no idea what to say. Henry Crane didn’t have a brother. Her head ping-ponged back and forth between the two men. How had this happened? How had she ended up in the middle of a Crane blood feud? This wasn’t her place. She was the help, an assistant. She was downstairs, they were upstairs.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” she said, regretting the words the moment they were out of her mouth. She wished she could have been more like Letizia, a tall and gorgeous woman who never put her foot in her mouth or embarrassed herself.

  “Oh no,” Marcus said as he reached for a muffin that was sitting in a basket in the middle of the table. He broke it open, spreading crumbs all over the table. He shoved a piece in his mouth and kept talking. “Old dad was not that faithful a man. Everyone thought he was such a stand-up guy, a real pillar of the community. Behind closed doors, it was a different matter. My mother was a maid at the Crane’s house. How tacky,” he said, rolling his eyes, “a love child with the maid.”

  “You shouldn’t talk about your own mother that way,” Agatha chided.

  “My mother is a lazy drunk and I was the one that stuck with her for sixteen years, so I’ll talk about her however I want.” In one second, Marcus had gone from rogue to devil. He leered at her and reached for another muffin as he did.

  “Agatha, why don’t you go upstairs so Marcus and I can talk,” Henry said.

  “Get a room for the two of you, did you?” Marcus asked.

  “No, I got a room for Agatha because it’s safer here.”

  “Now, now brother,” Marcus said. “We both know that’s not true. If you want to keep her safe, you know what you need to do. Put her anywhere you want. I’ll still find her come nightfall.”

  Chapter Five

  “What?” Agatha asked. “What’s he saying? Why am I not safe? I don’t have anything to do with anything.”

  “That is true,” Marcus said. “You are right. You have done nothing wrong. You are totally innocent. The only reason you’re in this mess is because those tits of yours have really caught my brother’s eye.”

  “That’s enough,” Henry said as he stood up. Agatha could feel her face getting red. It couldn’t be possible. Henry was her boss, they had only spoken a handful of times and even then it was just about work. The only words he had ever said to her were “thank you” and “I need that by five”.

  “Women always think that thinner equals better,” Marcus said to Agatha, ignoring Henry who was still standing over him. “But men want women who look like women. Most men will take tits and ass over collarbones and ribs any day of the week.”

  Henry grabbed Marcus by the collar and pulled him up. “Careful,” Marcus said. “You don’t want to start a fight here in the center of town. What would the little people say?”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Henry said. Agatha had to silence a gasp. She had never heard Henry curse or even raise his voice. But now
he was holding another man, his half-brother, by the collar. The waiter was hurrying over to them and Agatha was still sitting numbly in her chair, with no idea what she should do.

  “Everything is fine,” Henry said to the waiter, as he let Marcus go. “He was just leaving.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m leaving now,” Marcus said, putting his hands up in a show of mock defeat. “But I will see you tonight and I will get what I want.” His eyes flicked to Agatha and he gave her a wink before striding out of the restaurant.

  “Sir, would you like me to call the police?” The waiter asked.

  “No, but please tell the front desk not to let him in again.”

  “Of course, Mr. Crane.”

  Eggs, toast, and fruit sat in front of her untouched.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Henry said as he sat back down.

  “What is going on?” Agatha demanded. “Is he really your half-brother? What does he want? Why..... me?”

  “You should eat,” he said, ignoring her question as he lifted his fork and devoured some eggs.

  “I’m not hungry,” Agatha said.

  “Well, I’m starving. Let’s eat and then I’ll explain everything.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  They ate quickly, but it still felt like the longest fifteen minutes of Agatha’s life. Her brain was running around in circles. She had too many questions and no answers. She didn’t taste the food as she ate it. She just mechanically put the food into her mouth and watched Henry as he ate every last bite.

  Finally, his meal was done and he drank from his refilled water glass. Agatha stared at him as she tried to control her fidgeting. This was driving her crazy, how long was she expected to just sit here and wait?

  “Let’s take a drive,” Henry finally said. “I have something I want to show you.”

  They walked to the car in silence, but Henry was never very far from her. His arm kept bumping against hers as he guided her towards his car. This was madness. This was torture. She was caught in the middle of something and no one would give her any answers. She was in danger and the only thing she could do was follow Henry around like some pathetic little duckling. She couldn’t take it. She was going to run or scream or maybe even run away while screaming. They were back at the car. He opened her door and his hand found that place on the small of her back that made her shiver.

  “Are you a Werewolf?” She demanded once Henry was seated behind the wheel.

  “Yes,” he sighed.

  Everything went quiet. Her ears were ringing and that word “yes” kept bounding about in her head. She sat back as Henry pulled out of the parking lot and started on the road up to the bluff. It took her a moment to realize where they were going. The Crane mansion sat atop the bluff. Henry was taking her to his home.

  “It’s a curse,” he said as they took the winding road up and up. On the other side of Henry was a shearing cliff side that fell to the ocean. Below them, the white waves were crashing against the shore. The woods to her right were thick, dark and dangerous looking.

  “It’s passed down from father to child. My father has it, I have it and Marcus has it. It manifests when puberty hits. At first, the transformation is dangerous and uncontrollable. On my thirteenth birthday, I was pulled from my school and sent to a private home in the Alps owned by my family. It was high up in the mountains, only accessible by dangerous passes and helicopter. It was far away from any people I might accidentally hurt. It took me three years to finally understand and control my ability to shift.

  “I learned about Marcus when I turned twenty-five. My father was dead by then and he had never mentioned an illegitimate son. But Marcus had proof of his claims. Not only could he shift, but he had proof that my father had given him money in the past. I thought at first he wanted more money, but it was more complicated than that.”

  They were at the Crane mansion. The huge, gothic building loomed in front of them. It was built from a gray stone and styled like a German castle. There was a recessed archway for the entryway and huge windows with bright and detailed stained glass. The east and west wings were defined by two tall towers that speared the sky.

  As they pulled up, a butler hurried out of the house and took the keys as Henry stepped out of the car. Another opened Agatha’s door and she avoided eye contact with them as she stood in the shadow of the old house.

  Henry’s hand was on the small of her back again and he guided her inside. She only got a glimpse of his house before turning down a dark hallway and hurrying past stone statues that watched them from recessed alcoves. They walked up a stairwell covered in a lush, deep red carpet. They made a left and went up even more stairs. Finally, they were on a landing and Henry stopped at a huge, out-of-place looking steel door. There was an electronic keypad next to it. He entered a long series of numbers and the door slid open.

  He stepped through the door first and held his hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to guide her through the doorway before he closed the door behind her. Inside, there was a spiral staircase and he led the way as they walked up it. At the top of the stairs was a thick, wooden door with an electronic panel next to it. He placed his hand on the panel and after a moment, a lock clicked. Giving her a backward glance, he pushed that door open as well.

  The circular room at the top of the tower was bare except for a small wooden table. On top of that table was an old and thick book. When she looked at it, Agatha forgot all about Henry standing next to her. She forgot about the wolves and the things she had just learned. The only thing that existed was that book.

  Chapter Six

  Without meaning to, she took a step towards it and then another. She went to move a third time, but Henry gently took her by the upper arm and held her back.

  “It’s the Rauðskinna,” he said, his voice low and hushed. “The Book of Power. It’s an ancient book of black magic. It’s filled with spells and potions recipes, methods to see the future and secret ways to kill your enemies. It’s a thing of dangerous darkness. If it fell into the wrong hands...” Henry Crane shuddered at the mere thought of that scenario. “This is where our power comes from. We can turn into powerful animals, but our curse is that we are saddled with protecting this book.”

  She hadn’t even realized she was straining against his hold until he finally took a step forward, which allowed her to get closer to the book. She felt drawn to it like it was her opposing magnet. For a moment, she thought she could hear a low humming come from the book. At first, the words written in an elegant hand in dark ink, were nothing but gibberish, but after a moment, it came into focus.

  The Book of Power, Devoted To Controlling The Dark Father Of Sin. Behold, all of the answers to all of your questions are held inside.

  “This is what Marcus wants,” Agatha said. Her voice sounded dreamy and far away. She had no idea how she knew this information, but she knew it to be true. “Why now?” She asked turning to face him.

  “My father left Marcus an inheritance in his will, it should have lasted him a long time. It should have lasted his entire life if he had managed it well. He didn’t. He spent it all and then showed up last week demanding more. He seemed so lost and angry. I thought by telling him about the book it might offer him some sense of purpose or give him some guidance. After all, he is part of my family. It is where our ability to shape-shift comes from.

  Once he heard about it, he became obsessed with the power held inside. He thinks it holds the solutions to all of his problems, but he doesn’t understand. The book gives with one hand and takes with the other. Nothing is free, there are always consequences.” He shook his head and crossed his arms. Outside the day was growing long. “He told me that if I didn’t give him the book, he would make the people I care about suffer. He started with you. But after our fight last night and the talk in the diner this afternoon, I think he’s done asking nicely.”

  “Why don’t you just destroy it?”

  “No one knows how t
o. Fire doesn’t burn it, water doesn’t obscure it. We can’t get rid of it. I left it on a deserted island in the middle of the Pacific. But when I woke up the next morning, there it was, sitting in bed next to me. It is our curse. We are saddled with it. But I can’t let Marcus have it. He’s so angry about everything; about my father abandoning him, about having to figure out what he is and how to control it on his own. He could hurt a lot of people with this book.”

  Agatha reached out with her fingers to touch the book. She was sure that Henry was going to stop her. Any moment he was going to reach out and grab her hand before she could make contact. But he didn’t. Her outstretched fingers grazed the cover of the book. The material felt almost like leather, but not quite.

  “You never answered my question,” she said as she let her hand fall.

  “What question?” He asked.

  She turned to face him. “Why me?”

  Darkness was falling outside. It was twilight now. The sky was a bruised blue and purple. Clouds were gathering above them as a storm was brewing.

  “Did you really have no idea?” He asked. Before she knew it, his hand was taking hers. His skin was warm and she let his hands envelope hers. “I thought I was... I thought it was obvious.”

  “What was obvious?” She asked. She was looking into his dark eyes. They were suddenly very close, but still not close enough.

  “That I liked you.”

  “What?” She asked. “When did you ever...”

  “That morning we had breakfast with that German company. And we were both getting coffee at the same time. Don’t you remember? I looked over at you and you looked back.”

  Agatha’s mouth fell open and then it turned into a smile. “I had no idea,” she said. “I was so nervous just from being near you. I was trying hard not to spill anything on myself. Is that what you think flirting is? Giving someone a look over coffee?” She couldn’t help but tease him. He was so important and powerful. How was it possible he didn’t know how to talk to women?