Dragon: The Clan Legacy Series

by J. S. Striker

  “Then let me decide for you.”

  “Look, Takeshi, if you think I’m gonna let myself be dragged off—”

  “We go find Mya together, get the cure, then go home.”

  His interruption seemed to shock her. Then realization dawned at his words.

  “No deadlines,” she blurted out.

  “None.”

  “We look for Mya and find the cure, no matter what.”

  “Deal. Then I take you home.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation before she finally nodded. “Deal.”

  To seal the bargain, they shook on it, both ignoring the consistent spark at the touch. Charlie knew his mission had just gotten way out of his league, but he wasn’t giving up. He definitely wasn’t leaving her alone this time.

  They checked the area one more time for any other sight of vampires. When they found none, Charlie took her back to the disco area, where they would hopefully avoid anymore attacks. They didn’t get any sleep as they opted to wait the night out.

  In the morning, they looked for a flight back to Los Angeles.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The flights for Los Angeles the next day were all fully booked, so Charlie booked them a flight for Sacramento instead. They managed to grab the afternoon flight and got settled right away, with Charlie telling her to pack light and wear something that would allow her to run if needed.

  Right.

  Since most of her Hawaiian wear were bikinis and thin sundresses—something she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate when running—Francesca decided to get rid of them and get more clothes instead. She wore denim shorts and a plain white shirt, and her usual sneakers. Then she announced that if it was running gear he wanted, they could always pass by her apartment to get her old clothes.

  “Not an option,” Charlie said shortly. “Our demon friend will be there, waiting around.”

  Francesca didn’t fail to detect the impatient note in his voice—something, she realized now, that didn’t happen often. The man was basically in control of every situation he was in, and being thrown out of the water was obviously something he didn’t like, though he never complained out loud.

  So she did the complaining.

  “Why can’t we just head for Fresno and go get the car?” she asked once they were seated side by side on the plane.

  “It will take too long to get to Los Angeles by car. I have a better way.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about, and she opted not to argue. Charlie was able to find her all the way in Hawaii, so that meant he was probably as good with travel as he was with tracking. She remembered the claws that came out when the lone vampire attacked, and it made her curious enough to nudge him again once the plane had ascended.

  “What?”

  Francesca leaned forward, carefully whispering in his ear. “So, what kind of shifter are you?”

  He opened his mouth, expression serious as he stared ahead. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what kind you are.”

  The joke didn’t register at first until Francesca realized he was kidding, considering he knew what kind of shifters her parents were. She broke into a grin, leaning even closer.

  “I’m a big, bad wolf,” she growled. A small smile played on his lips at her statement, but he didn’t say anything else. “Seriously, what are you? Croc?”

  “No.”

  “Armadillo?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh. So you’re a killjoy.”

  He shot her a side look. “Right.”

  “A killjoy with no sense of humor.”

  “Hmm.”

  “One who obviously doesn’t like looking his opponent in the eye in case he trembles in fear.”

  That got his attention. Charlie’s head slowly turned in her direction until he was eye to eye with her, their faces inches away. This close, she could see clearly the flecks of black in his gray eyes, like glittering coal. His warm breath heated her nose, and she had to consciously stop it from twitching.

  “You were saying?” he asked, tone low and absolute sexy in her ears.

  God, but he was attractive. And intense. And a gentleman through and through. Would he kiss her as gently as he treated her—slow, so slow until she melted and gave in? Her stomach pooled with sparks at the thought, and her knees went weak.

  His jaw looked so clean—no stubborn beard, all smoothly shaved and with a definitive masculine scent. Shirt tucked in, pants with no creases. She wanted to mess him up—make him dirty all over, particularly down and dirty…with her. No control.

  Something throbbed below her stomach, and she almost jumped at the intensity of the sensation. His eyes never left hers, and there was something in them that felt dangerous to unravel. Something hot.

  Something that could burn them both.

  Suddenly she didn’t want his attention anymore. Shaken to the core, shaken at this unusual connection between them, Francesca broke the contact and looked away first. She stared at the seat in front of her, making sure to give a casual shrug.

  “Gotcha. Just kissing—” she started.

  Oh, God.

  “—kidding! I mean kidding.”

  Inwardly groaning, she closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut, wishing the ride was over and he was far, far away. Charlie didn’t say anything beside her, as unreadable as always.

  Los Angeles couldn’t come soon enough.

  *****

  They arrived in Sacramento a few hours later, with another embarrassing moment beforehand—her dozing off and drooling all over Charlie’s shoulder. He didn’t make any comment about it, instead putting a jacket over her so she wouldn’t feel cold. Francesca woke up just as the plane landed, startled and feeling too many things at once that she needed to scold herself. Again.

  This must stop.

  Leg cramps got in the way, too. Feeling crankier than usual, Francesca snapped at him to get a flight as soon as possible because she simply wasn't in the mood to hang out here and waste time. Charlie calmly informed her that they wouldn't be wasting any time because he had a solution better than airplanes. The cryptic reply was left at that, and Francesca had no choice but to follow as he led her through the airport's exit and inside a hailed taxi towards an unknown area. They reached the outskirts of the city and went into a desolated territory, where Charlie asked the taxi to stop so they could get out. Francesca took a look around, surprised.

  It was an abandoned park.

  Not saying a word or giving an explanation, Charlie walked further up and motioned for her to follow.

  “Where are we going?” Francesca couldn't resist asking.

  “Up.”

  She rolled her eyes. “For?”

  “We're flying.”

  A private jet? Francesca was about to roll her eyes again at his vague answer when realization dawned on her like a ton of bricks.

  Oh. Oh.

  They reached the top of the area, a tiny hill that had few trees but was generally bare. Charlie turned around and started removing his clothes, which she knew he would probably put in a wrapped pouch around his leg. It was standard shifter gear, though she never had to use one considering her…situation. The glimpse of his sleek, tanned back muscles had her senses reacting, and she looked down.

  A few seconds later—all that it took to fully shift, really—she looked back up...and her breath was taken away.

  He was perhaps the most beautiful shifter she had ever seen in her life.

  The dragon form in front of her was just as sleek as his human form—gray scales that covered every inch of him, and smoky eyes that were as intense as ever. Unable to resist, she took a step forward until she was standing just a few inches away from him, her hand tentatively touching his scales.

  They were cool under his touch. Rock hard. She caressed him softly, grinning when he didn't protest. A soft grumble came out of his belly when she stopped, so she scratched his scales affectionately.

  “You're gorgeous, Charlie.”
r />   A hint of a smile might have flitted on his dragon snout, but she couldn't really tell. But he did tilt his head, making an indication for her to get moving. As carefully as possible, Francesca hopped up, excitement hammering in her heart at the thought of flying with a dragon.

  A dragon, for goodness sake. It was the stuff made for fantasies.

  They soared into the air and flew through the clouds in no time, night giving them the perfect cover. It was cold and windy and rough, but none of that mattered as Francesca kept her eyes open and greedily took in her surroundings.

  She was going to cherish this fleeting moment of freedom forever.

  *****

  They arrived in Los Angeles a little before ten, and Francesca was aware enough to turn around again as Charlie quickly got dressed. They didn't waste any time as she took him to the marketplace straight away and they navigated the area, reaching the shop Wonder Magic where Lloyd stood guard as usual.

  “Hey, hot man,” Francesca greeted warmly, happy to see him. “How have you been?”

  “Been better.” Lloyd's stern eyes strayed towards Charlie before returning to her. “She's waiting for you inside.”

  That surprised her, but she allowed none of it to show on her face. Instead, Francesca winked at the huge man and turned to Charlie.

  “Wait here. This will be short.”

  Charlie obviously didn't like that, but he gave her a nod nonetheless. Eager to get this over with, Francesca went inside the shop, where she found a woman with dark blue hair sitting on a chair and casually filing her nails. Another disguise.

  Mya looked up at her entrance.

  “Oh, good. I'm glad to see you escaped that hideous demon.”

  The fakeness of the greeting had Francesca almost narrowing her eyes, but she kept a bright smile pasted on her face.

  “Yeah. I've come to claim my potion.”

  The witch raised a brow. “For botching up the last client deal?”

  “For the messed up potion you gave me the last time.”

  “Oh, that.”

  The flippant answer had Francesca's blood boiling, but she refrained herself from snapping. Instead, she said, “I need to leave, Mya, because very bad people are after me. If you could give me the potion that would heal me permanently, I'd really appreciate it and never bother you again.”

  Silence. Mya kept filing her nails, finishing the last finger before she stood up. “Fine, shifter.”

  Surprise filled Francesca. She opened her mouth.

  “Don't bother lying; I knew a long time ago,” Mya cut in. “But you were very useful to me, so, I guess...thanks.”

  Francesca quietly nodded her head.

  “As for the permanent healing potion you're thinking about...I don't have it with me. I'm not powerful enough to create a permanent one.”

  Francesca's heart dropped at the hard truth that rang in Mya's answer.

  “Oh.”

  That would have been the hard, bitter end to it. But Mya eyed her slyly. “However, I do know one very powerful witch who might be able to help you, and your...tracker friend outside.”

  Francesca's body snapped to attention, but she kept her answer cool. “Oh?”

  Mya nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She took a map out of her drawer, then handed it to Francesca. Francesca studied the map, old and yellowish, but still readable. It had plenty of pen scribblings on top of the actual map, mostly in the Asian continent.

  “Find the witch, you can find the cure. She's hard to find, so good luck.”

  Francesca narrowed her eyes. “And why can't you go here?”

  The other shrugged. “Banned.”

  “Oh.”

  “What can I say? I've been a very bad witch.”

  That, Francesca could agree with. She studied the map again. “What do I owe you for this?”

  “Nothing. But I have a small favor to ask.”

  “Yes?”

  A hint of excitement flickered in Mya's eyes. “When you find the witch and get the cure, summon me.” She gave Francesca a pendant the color of orange and red, almost like fire. “This is important to me. I need that witch in more ways than one. I won’t harm her. I just need her. You have to summon me, no matter what.”

  Mya took a step back, entering the beaded curtain. Francesca stayed where she was, studying the map again for a few seconds. She took a step forward and went in to follow the witch to ask more questions—but when she parted the beaded curtain, she couldn't find anyone inside.

  Mya had disappeared. It figured.

  Frowning, Francesca looked at the map one last time before tucking it inside her shorts pocket. She went outside the shop and found Charlie still there, on the opposite side of Lloyd. She saluted Lloyd and approached Charlie, taking his hand and pulling him away from the marketplace. He squeezed her hand, then pulled it away

  “Got what you needed?”

  “Yes. Sort of. Mya says she can’t break the spell but knows who can.”

  “So where to next?”

  Silence. Then...

  “We're heading to Taiwan.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The travel to China was done in relative peace—a flight from Los Angeles to Beijing, where they waited until nighttime so Charlie could shift again and fly to Taiwan. Most of the flying was done over the sea, and he felt Francesca’s eager silence as she rode on his dragon form and stared at her surroundings like it was the best thing she’d ever seen. It probably was. Charlie had been flying over oceans for who knew how long now, but the way she absorbed everything, pointing out some sights in excited fascination, brought out a new sense of euphoria in him, as if he was looking at everything for the first time.

  She seemed to have a talent for that—charming people into getting excited over the smallest things, appreciating every tiny moment. He liked that about her, and it reminded him of his friend Finn, who had a zest for life just like she did. He also liked Francesca’s spirit—her ability to take everything life would throw with a smile on her face, as if she wasn’t bothered by anything.

  Her obsession with the healing potion was understandable, now that he knew how painful it could get for her. No one in the shifter community knew, and that said a lot about her parents in his mind. But that was neither here nor there.

  The truth was, he was liking too many things about her, and it wasn’t wise.

  They descended on beach territory near the outskirts of Taipei, where the cold weather brought shivers that Francesca did her best to hide. When he shifted back to his human form, the cold got to him as well, so he did his best to get them out of there just as the sun was setting down. Francesca had shown him the map from Mya, an old thing with some notes on the Asian continent that said she kept track of this so-called powerful witch constantly. Whoever this witch was, it was obvious she was good at evasion, considering even a powerful witch like Mya couldn’t locate her. Then again, Mya probably already had an idea where the witch was, but just couldn’t step in that territory due to some bad blood with the residents.

  Shifters were known for being territorial, but witches and their covens were even more so. If you betrayed them once, you’d better not show your face again. Unlike shifters and vampires, who only had one universal leader, witches weren’t as organized, as there were many covens and independents all over the world who followed whomever they wanted. Dylan, the universal shifter leader, had no problem aligning with Lucinda, the universal vampire leader, but witch alliance was a different case—and ultimately more dangerous, especially if you made the wrong one.

  They arrived in the city district in no time, where they managed to purchase clothes to change the dusty ones they had before grabbing some dinner. Taipei was famous for their noodles, so they had some of that in the crowded, lit-up night streets and washed it off with some red bean cakes. Francesca insisted on trying out the shaved ice, and Charlie found he couldn’t deny her the sweets. They sat on a folding bench and some folding chairs in the area where food
stalls lined the streets, where the dessert stall owner served them some of his popular treats—red bean for Charlie and mango for Francesca. Her eyes lit up when she tasted hers, and he was almost tempted to have a taste of what she was having.

  Almost, but not quite.

  A man sat beside her, wearing elegant clothes and bringing no food with him. Well, it wasn’t technically a man. Charlie quietly eyed the vampire, not finishing his dessert and keeping on alert. Francesca was still talking, but she stopped at Charlie’s neutral expression, then looked at the stranger beside her, who was wearing sunglasses.

  Francesca winced and dropped her spoon. Below the bench, Charlie saw sharp nails digging into her side.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Charlie murmured, eyes steadily on the man.

  The vampire bared his teeth, sharp and white. It was a subtle move that the crowd didn’t notice. Francesca made an instinctual move away, but the nails that were digging into her side grabbed her elbow firmly.

  “We don’t mean any trouble. We just want the witch,” the vampire said. “Give her location and we will let you go.”

  Francesca shot Charlie a pleading look. He pretended he didn’t see.

  “Come sit beside me so I can show you,” Charlie said calmly.

  The vampire thought about it for all but a second before standing up and transferring to the other bench beside Charlie. Now his nails dug in on Charlie’s side.

  “Now give me the information.”

  Charlie nodded his head. “Run.” His eyes were focused on Francesca, whose own eyes widened at the statement. When she stayed frozen in place, he repeated, loud and clear. “Run.”

  In a flash, Francesca stood up and hesitated. It was enough, though, as the vampire started—and Charlie shifted his hands and dug his claws into the vampire’s chest, tearing it open and cutting out the heart. The vampire barely had time to hiss before blood was spilled and the heart was on the ground.

  Then Charlie was dragging Francesca away.

  “When I tell you to run, you run,” he half-growled as they navigated further away from the vampire. No one had noticed the blood yet, but it wasn’t long before someone would.