The Detective's Dragon

by Karilyn Bentley

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Praise for Karilyn Bentley

  The Detective’s Dragon

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  The squeak of hinges snapped Parker’s attention to the door. Hottie stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the other on the handle, a look of determination plastered on his face. A look she was familiar with. A look she saw reflected in her mirror on a daily basis. A look mirrored on her coworkers’ faces when working a case.

  A look she never thought to see directed her way.

  Which was a bit unnerving, but not nearly as unnerving as the realization he’d followed her. He stood in the doorway like he owned the place. Or owned her.

  Her limbs shuddered like a car without shocks. He. Followed. Her. Was he stalking her? Was he with the ones who tried to kidnap her? What was he doing here? More to the point, how did she get rid of him? Her muscles might be coming out of a deep freeze, but that didn’t mean she could hop off the bed and toss him out the door.

  Where was the damn call button?

  Parker patted the mattress. Hottie took a step closer. Then another. No button. Her heart shook an uneven rhythm, the beat a warning drum in her veins. Her hand moved faster against the mattress, searching, seeking, not finding.

  Damn it.

  “Be of ease. I mean no harm.”

  She stilled, her hand paused mid-pat as if his words flipped her off switch. Deep and soothing, his voice stroked across frazzled nerves, slowing her racing heart. If he could bottle that sound, women would fall at his feet.

  Praise for Karilyn Bentley

  MAGICAL LOVER

  “Ms. Bentley’s characters are strong and will defend to the death those they love.”

  ~Aloe, Long and Short Reviews

  ~*~

  WARRIOR LOVER

  “I enjoyed the way the author wrote this book and the characters were very realistic. I will be living in this fairytale for awhile.”

  ~Crystal, Romancing the Book

  ~*~

  AFTER THE MOON RISES

  “The writing of Ms. Bentley is unique and shows no fear in stepping outside the norm of shifter romance.”

  ~Delane, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

  ~*~

  WEREWOLVES IN LONDON

  “The author has excellent world building skills and leaves the reader with a very good picture of this werewolf society and its rules. This story is a great combination of romance, action, suspense and the paranormal.”

  ~Maura, CoffeeTime Romance

  ~*~

  WOLF MATES

  “…had a good mix of humor and action, a good, developed plot for a novella and was a fun read.”

  ~M. Dobson, Sizzling Hot Book Reviews

  ~*~

  “…was a fun book to read.”

  ~Jane, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

  The Detective’s Dragon

  by

  Karilyn Bentley

  Draconia Tales

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  The Detective’s Dragon

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Karilyn Bentley

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2015

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0136-5

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0137-2

  Draconia Tales

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To the Plotting Princesses

  for helping plot ideas for this story.

  You ladies rock!

  ~

  And a special thanks to Phyllis Middleton

  for answering questions about all things police.

  As usual all mistakes are mine.

  ~

  And to my loving hubby

  who puts up with me sticking scenes under his nose

  to critique while he’s in the middle of a video game.

  I love you much!

  Chapter One

  Death surrounded her in a foggy aura, gray and dense and choking. Her gaze fixed on some point behind him, her expression one of peace, as if she didn’t realize death hovered nearby. Or maybe she welcomed its embrace.

  Unacceptable.

  She belonged to him.

  Jamie reached toward the almond-skinned female, hoping she’d take his hand, needing her to touch him more than he needed his next heartbeat. But she ignored him before fading away into the mists of his dreams, leaving behind the sting of rejection.

  Sweat beaded his body as he sat straight up in bed. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, chased by the dawning sun. Jamie rubbed a hand over his face. Every night this week he’d dreamt the same dream. The same female. The same aura of death. The same rejection. The only difference between them being the strength of the foggy death aura. With each dream it grew stronger. Closer. More threatening.

  He needed to find her. To save her. To mark her as his.

  Goddess’s toes. Since when did a Draconi male mark a human female as his mate? Especially a Halfling such as himself.

  He couldn’t do most of the things a full-blood Draconi could, including turning into a dragon. And now he thought he could mark a female as his mate?

  Crazy dreams.

  Jamie rolled out of bed and stretched. He waved a hand over the glow lamp on the bedside table, turning it on. Yet another action he needed help with. He had the embarrassing distinction of being the only Halfling he knew who needed their glow lamp spelled in order to work properly.

  And to think, when he was a youngster, everyone thought he had the potential to be the most powerful Draconi ever. They based their belief on his coloring, his brown hair and gray eyes, coloring different from the red hair and green eyes of all other Halflings. The only other Halfling with his coloring had been powerful. And dangerous. She’d gained the position of High Priestess and ruled with a magical ferocity not seen since.

  He waited his whole life to be powerful. Still waited.

  But he could do one thing better than any other Draconi.

  Find lost things.

  People. Pets. Jewels.

  The greater the danger the pets and people were in, the quicker he found them. All except the female from his dreams.

  How did he go about finding a human? As a reconnaissance expe
rt, he found abandoned Halflings in less time than any of his colleagues. An image was all he needed to find a lost pet. Jewels called to him like a hatchling to its mother. Humans?

  He’d never tried finding a human. Why would he? But he’d put off finding the dream female long enough. Death almost embraced her in its cold grasp and once that happened, she’d be lost to him forever.

  Unacceptable.

  Bam, bam, bam! The front door rattled under strong blows, shaking Jamie out of his thoughts. No doubt about who stood outside attempting a break-in. The only question was why his Halfling-finding partner arrived with the dawning sun. Since when was Erik early for a mission?

  Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face and stumbled across the bedroom to the door. The gold dragon doorknob slipped in his grasp, but that’s what happened when one woke in a cold sweat. After a couple of tries he opened the bedroom door, strode across the main room, and yanked open the front door.

  Red-rimmed, puffy eyes stared back a second too long, sleepy thoughts drifting in their depths, as if his reconnaissance partner had rolled out of bed and transported the moment his feet hit the ground.

  Nothing new there.

  “You’re early.”

  “You gonna invite me in, or do I have to stand out here all day?” Erik yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth.

  Jamie stepped back, gesturing with his arm for his friend to enter. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Of course. In a manner of speaking.”

  A stab of jealousy, hot and painful, slammed into his chest. He knew where Erik had been, what he’d been doing and, if he thought on it long enough, who he’d been doing it with. Lying in a female’s arms. Setting his cares free in the pleasures of a bedromp.

  If only his life was that easy. Females tended to think of him as a pity romp. The poor little Halfling with no powers. Not a one cared about him for any other reason.

  And could he blame them? What female wanted a male with little magic? Who needed the lights and stove in his house spelled by someone else in order to work correctly? Just because he understood their reasoning didn’t mean he wanted to act the fool. Giving females up had been easier than he thought. Times like these proved why the Goddess created hands.

  If only he possessed magic.

  And then what? He’d get females for the opposite reason. Instead of a pity bedromp, they’d romp with him for his power. Still without caring.

  Jamie sighed. Maybe if he hadn’t grown up around caring couples like Thoren and Keara, his adoptive parents, then he wouldn’t mind the lack of love.

  “You with me here?” Erik snapped his fingers in front of Jamie’s eyes. “I’ve been talking, and you’re standing in the doorway staring into space.”

  Idiot. Jamie slammed the door shut. “Sorry.”

  “As I was saying. You got any of those beans we bought in the Southlands?”

  “The wake-up ones?”

  “One and the same. Where are they? Don’t you have the press too?”

  “In the cupboard. Top shelf.”

  Erik poured the small, hard, dark beans into a cylindrical chopper. He screwed the top on the press and used the handle to chop the beans while Jamie started a fire in the cook-stove and sat a pot of water on to boil. Several Halfling hunting expeditions ago, they discovered jaba-jaba beans in the Southlands. Crushed, the beans delivered a powerful stimulant, a wake-up jolt, perfect for early morning duties after a night of little sleep.

  No wonder Erik loved the potion.

  “Are you going like that? Your lack of clothing is blinding me.”

  Jamie looked down at his sleeping shorts and back to his friend. “Your fault. You’re the one who showed up before I had time to dress.”

  “You have time now.” Erik waved his fingers. “I’ll fix us something while you get dressed. You know how the Council hates it when we’re late.”

  He knew how the Council hated it when Erik popped in late. Jamie strove for punctuality. No sense in giving those tasked with the protection of Draconia a reason to think he wasn’t qualified to be a reconnaissance expert.

  He had enough problems convincing them that despite his middling magic, he could find Halflings. Only the fact he never returned empty handed, and usually returned with additional hard-to-find items, saved him from needing to look for work elsewhere.

  Dressing as quick as possible in trousers and shirt, he slipped his knife into his boot. Draconi did not normally carry weapons, relying instead upon their magic, but Jamie's lack of magic meant he needed a weapon. A hidden weapon.

  No sense in giving the Council a reason to think he couldn't do his job by flaunting a knife on his belt.

  A few minutes later, he returned to the main room where Erik was busy cooking breakfast. The male might not have a punctual bone in his body, but he could cook a mean scrambled egg and sliced ham. Although…

  “Where did you get ham and eggs?” Last he checked he only had bread in the cupboard.

  Erik raised a brow then shook his head as he turned the ham with a fork. “Forgot you can’t just transport food in when you need it.”

  Right. He should remember how normal Draconi got food. But it said something that Erik forgot about his lack of magic. Meant he did a good job of covering up the flaw.

  Or Erik had as hard a time remembering things as Jamie did in the morning.

  After a quick breakfast and clean up, the two transported to the Council Chambers, materializing outside the door of the round stone building.

  “Ready for our hunting orders?” Erik paused, one hand on the doorknob.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Jamie grabbed the other knob, and they shoved open the two double doors.

  A cool draft smacked him in the face as soon as he stepped inside. Marble floors ran into tall stone walls, which in turn led to a high, shadowed ceiling. The impression of cold severity. Unyielding.

  Unlike Erik, who straightened and stood at attention each time he entered this room, the ambiance set Jamie at ease. He grew up in this cold room, hiding in the shadows behind a chest no one seemed to notice was there, listening to planning sessions, taking comfort in the presence of Thoren, Thoren’s father Balthor, and Keara’s grandfather Alviss. His adoptive family would never harm him. Something he couldn’t say about his living blood relatives.

  Not all Draconi thought Halflings equal to their full-blooded brethren.

  “Erik?” Balthor, the Council leader, stepped away from the huddle of Council members, brows forming a vee as he stared at the two. “Do my eyes deceive me, or are you actually here on time?”

  “It never hurts to try something different. Sir.”

  “Keep trying. A morning shock keeps us on our toes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jamie ducked his head, hoping no one caught his grin. He remembered years ago, back when Alviss led the Council, how nervous powerful, grown males became in the old Draconi’s presence. Balthor failed to impress the same way. But then, Balthor was younger and used a different style of leading. And since the Watcher rebellion, only two and a half Watchers remained on the Council, down from six during Alviss’s reign.

  He glanced to Enar, the half a Watcher, and Thoren’s best friend. The male appeared like any other full-blooded Watcher, tall and blond with piercing blue eyes and a warrior build. His mother, though, was part Draconi, giving Enar a few Draconi abilities.

  Less than Jamie’s middling ones, of course. A fact that should not put him in his happy place, but never failed to do so. What kind of male did that make him? Keara would be appalled.

  Balthor motioned them closer until they stood in the huddle of males. No sitting in carved wooden chairs for this Council. “We have reports of another Halfling in the Southlands.”

  All right! He needed more jaba-jaba beans. Especially after Erik’s potion this morning.

  Balthor told them which village, and they turned to go. “Wait a minute.” Jamie turned when his grandfather spoke. “Have either of you heard of
any males who are abandoning their offspring in the Southlands? There have been an unusual number of Halflings from there lately.”

  “I have not.” Jamie looked at Erik, who shook his head.

  “Keep your ears open, and let us know. Our education programs on this issue don’t seem to be working. We need to go after the perpetrators.”

  What Balthor failed to mention, and what Jamie knew bothered him, was the spell Alviss used to discover the bloodlines of the Halflings died with the ancient Draconi, leaving Balthor with no idea of how to find the Halflings’ heritage. Or the identities of their fathers.

  Yet another reason to remain celibate. Although unlike the Halflings he hunted for, his blood father had remained in Jamie’s life until his death when Jamie was ten.

  “Good luck with that, Grandfather.”

  “I detect a note of sarcasm.” Balthor’s mouth flattened, but the corners of his eyes crinkled.

  “From me? Never.”

  “Be off with you, now. May the Goddess bless your trip.”

  With a final nod to Thoren, Jamie walked out the door, Erik behind him.

  “You almost gave him heart palpitations showing up on time,” Jamie said once the Council Chamber doors clicked shut behind them.

  “Was he mad? I can never tell.”

  How could his friend not realize Balthor jested? “He was teasing you.”

  “Better that than one of those looks Alviss gave.” Erik shivered. “He was one scary-arsed Draconi.”

  “Yes, he was.” Right up until the last month of his life.

  “While I must admit appearing for a mission is less scary, I’m not so sure it’s a good thing he’s no longer with us.”

  “You miss him?” Jamie raised a brow.

  “Wouldn’t go that far. He did well handling the Watcher Rebellion and fortifying the borders.”

  “He didn’t do so well stopping males from abandoning their offspring all over the place.”

  “That’s good for us. If not for wandering males, they’d have us strengthening wards. Boring. Waste of my talents.”

  “You can’t use bed talents anywhere but in bed.”

  “Bloody shame, that.”

  “But—” Jamie gasped, a sharp pain cutting off what he planned to say. The female from his dreams appeared in his mind, arms raised as if to block a blow, eyes reflecting fear and pain. If he didn’t find her now, she’d die.