The Detective's Dragon

by Karilyn Bentley

  “Even when you barely know the other?”

  “Once you know who your mate is, the feelings are there. They are there before you know”—even if the dumbarse male denies the emotions—“and grow stronger with time. You cannot tell me you do not feel a bond between us.”

  She ran her hands through her hair and turned to glare at him. “It’s happening too fast.”

  Did that mean she felt no bond? His breath hitched, his stomach formed an empty hollow of panic and shoved his body into the dark maw. Perhaps she felt the same, but had no experience with the bonding. Of course she didn’t. How could she if males in her world could take a mate, yet have a bedromp with another female not their mate?

  Jamie’s chest relaxed, and he drew in air. Her world was not his own. He should not expect her to feel the same, to want the same, to need the same. But he wanted her to. He wanted her to crave him the same as he craved her. Her body, her soul, her being.

  Perhaps she would never feel the same about him. Perhaps he should let her go. His body reacted as if hit by a blow. He curled forward, wrapping his arms around his stomach as if the action could protect him from her words. He could never let her go. What male refused his mate?

  The front door swung open and Thoren strode inside. “Hello, there, son. Glad to see you and Detective Parker are already here.” He took a couple of steps forward and stopped, clearly picking up the distress written into the emotional layer of the room. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Jamie spoke simultaneously with Parker.

  “Oh. Well. I’m sure your mother needs me in the kitchen.” He turned as Parker stood.

  “We’re all right. I, um, felt a little ill when we arrived so we stayed in here, but I’m better now.”

  “That’s good,” Thoren looked over her head to Jamie. She didn’t take the mating talk well, eh?

  Jamie narrowed his eyes. I’m handling it.

  Thoren’s lips twitched. You couldn’t do worse than I did, and look how things turned out. “Come along, then, and we’ll see what Keara stirred up for dinner.”

  Parker scurried after Thoren as if the room was ablaze and he was her only means of escape. Jamie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Thoren’s optimism about his mating predicament gnawed his stomach, a writhing of tiny carnivorous worms. Optimism should encourage him, lend strength to his abilities, but instead it left him empty, fearful. What if he failed? What if he couldn’t live up to Thoren’s expectations?

  Quit being morose, Jamie. Parker will understand. It will be all right.

  Or would it? Jamie smacked a hand against his head as if the hit would knock out the negative thoughts. He had no choice but to win Parker over. A male was nothing without his mate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Parker stalked after Thoren, her head a roar of ire, her jaw clenched tighter than a thief’s grip. If the choice was left up to her, she would be happy with getting to know Jamie better, following through on the insane attraction, seeing where things led. But to be told she was his mate, end of discussion, stuck in her chest like a festering splinter. She worked all her life to prove she was equal to a man and now she found out she has no choice about her spouse?

  Where were her gun and a firing range when she needed one?

  And then her thoughts and body froze as they came to the kitchen. The room was large, with counters, a table and a cluster of sofas, a combination of kitchen and living room, but the size wasn’t what stopped her feet.

  Nope, the complete halt was due to spoons in three pots on the fire-burning cook stove stirring without hands. As if she stood on a fantasy movie set.

  Okay, Parker, no more sissy moves. Breathe, damn it, breathe.

  Seeing Jamie work magic, being transported, and jumping into a different world like a character in a sci-fi TV show should have prepared her for spoons stirring independent of a hand. Apparently not.

  Jamie placed a hand on her lower back, startling her into movement.

  And damn it, but she liked the warmth spreading from his hand to her core. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Maybe being mated wouldn’t be so bad.

  A state of conflict was not where she wanted to be.

  “Feeling better, Parker?” Keara paused from chopping vegetables, her knife inches from the cutting board.

  Parker nodded, swallowed, pulled her voice out of its hiding place. “Yes, thank you. May I help?”

  Keara shook her head as she peered at the pots. “No, I’m—” Her voice pitched into a giggle as Thoren grabbed her around the waist, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  Jamie cleared his throat and gestured to the table. “Would you like to sit?”

  Good idea. Sitting might help with the lightheadedness playing havoc with her vision. Parker sat and rested her head upon the cool wood. Chair legs squeaked as Jamie lowered himself into the seat next to hers.

  “It takes awhile to adjust.”

  “How would you know? You were born this way.”

  “Not really. I mean, I always knew of Draconi magic, but I wasn’t born here.”

  “That’s right. Sorry. I knew that.” Idiot. Listening and retaining information used to be valued characteristics. Concentrate, Parker. She raised her head and met Jamie’s gaze. “How long does it take to adjust?”

  “It took Keara about a week. She didn’t believe in magic. Me, only a couple of days.” A shadow passed through his eyes, a remembrance of shock upon arrival or how his lack of magic placed him always as an outsider? No wonder he wanted to mate her. Her titanium screw made him normal.

  One glance at him, and she realized the inaccuracy of that thought. A mixture of concern, kindness, and lust reflected in his gaze. No, she meant more to him than an ability to work magic.

  Which failed to make her lack of choice any better.

  Behind Jamie, Keara and Thoren gave her long glances under lowered lids, questions vibrating in the surrounding air. Parker swallowed. Parents always had a thousand questions, no matter where they lived.

  At least she was a clean sissy instead of a grass stained one. That had to help. Right?

  “Your parents would like to talk to us.” Her whisper was meant for Jamie’s ears only, but Keara and Thoren turned their heads as if they heard. And why not. Sharp hearing, steaming ears, self-stirring spoons. What other magic would she see?

  Jamie turned around, head cocked as he stared at his parents. Keara flushed red and the tips of Thoren’s ears colored.

  “Well, do you blame us for having questions?” Keara raised a brow, the curve of her lips betraying the harshness of her voice.

  “This is not a Council inquisition.” Jamie stood and crossed his arms.

  “Don’t be so defensive, son. You know we mean her no harm.”

  “It’s fine, Jamie,” Parker placed a hand on his arm as she stood, “They can ask me questions.”

  “That sounds so cold,” Keara grinned. “We’re simply curious. You are different. It’s in the energy that sparks around you. We want to know you better. Welcome you to the family. Not quiz you endlessly.”

  And yep, the feeling was mutual. Did everybody stir pots handlessly? Could they snap a finger and clean up the kitchen? Because she was down with that skill.

  Parker pointed to the stirring spoons. “How did you get them to stir like that?”

  “A simple spell. I can…” Keara pursed her lips. “No, I can’t.” She sighed and one corner of her mouth twitched. Then she waggled her brows. “I can teach Jamie the spell so he can help you out.”

  “Thanks, Keara.” Jamie made a face.

  “It never hurts to help your mate around the house, you know.”

  “Hey,” Thoren crossed his arms, his face set in stern lines, his eyes twinkling. “No jabs about my housekeeping skills.”

  Keara pecked his cheek. “None intended. I was merely telling Jamie how to act.”

  “He’s a grown male now, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  R
ed splashed into Jamie’s cheeks as he gave her a sidelong glance.

  Parker tried and failed to stop the grin turning her lips at their banter. She edged closer to the stove and leaned against the counter, trepidation flowing away as she relaxed. The same unwinding she felt with her partner before his wife left him and he turned to the bottle as his friend. Something she missed with her father once her mother died.

  Listening to their teasing, watching the men help Keara set the table and place the dirty dishes in the sink, awoke a longing in her she forgot existed. A longing for family. A wish to belong. To not have to worry about every move, every behavior. To just be oneself. And that sense of belonging would be hers if she accepted Jamie as her mate.

  Besides the obvious, what did being his mate involve? Where would they live? What would she do with her life? Love might conquer all, but whoever invented that saying did not have her situation in mind.

  Jamie touched her arm, and her thoughts snapped to the present, to the kitchen, to three sets of eyes staring at her. Right. She must have been asked a question.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Does your village not have magic?” Keara smiled and Parker wanted to tell the woman her entire life, which was crazy. And probably not what Keara wanted to hear.

  “It’s a city and no, we don’t.”

  Keara’s eyes flared. “A city? I’ve never been to a city. Tell me about it. How many people? Where do they all live? Does it stink?”

  Parker chuckled and told her about Denver, while the men took dishes full of food to the table. A twinge of guilt snapped her, but no one seemed to need her help. Despite how comfortable she felt, she knew the real reason she was here. Quiz the mate. Some rituals crossed nationalities or, in this case, worlds.

  She continued talking about her hometown until they sat at the table. And it might have been rude of her to dominate the conversation, but since they continued to pepper her with questions about city life and her world and—to Jamie’s delight—technology, she continued to talk.

  Keara was a delight. Everything she asked had the ability to wrap around Parker, drawing her closer, marking her family. Energy buzzed around Thoren, a storm of invisible power, keeping her at a distance. His welcoming banter and smiles belied an aura of danger. If given a choice of Thoren in a dark alley or a man-eating tiger, she’d take her chances with the tiger.

  The man might give her the willies—not that she’d admit it—but love shone in his eyes when he glanced at Jamie. And especially when he looked at Keara. The heat sparking between those two made her wish she carried a fan.

  Or had her own man.

  Something that could be easily remedied. If she would agree to be mated. Married without dating. Married and barely knowing the person.

  Love at first sight never sat well with her. How could someone want to marry when they barely knew the person? She knew her fiancé for years, never thought he’d cheat and look how that turned out.

  Despite her reluctance, she felt drawn to Jamie, as if bonds tightened between their souls, inseparable, forever. But was he worth leaving her job, her life, her friends?

  “Parker?” Jamie touched her hand, snapping her back to the present.

  “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

  Thoren leaned forward. “Jamie mentioned you possessed an unusual talent. Do you care to demonstrate?”

  Seriously? He wanted her to demonstrate a surge of power with the ability to knock out light bulbs and fry electrical outlets? Not that the house appeared to have either, but still. Parker licked her lips. It could be worse. He could have asked her to do something hard like play the piano or darn socks.

  “It’s not something I can do by thinking about it. I need to be under a lot of stress and scared.”

  Jamie’s lips curled. “You will not frighten her.”

  “Of course not. Most humans possess no magic. I’m curious as to hers.” Thoren smiled, his teeth flashing white against his tan. “Did your parents possess powers?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Interesting. Usually they are passed down and, if traced back far enough, can be attributed to Draconi blood.”

  “Until Jamie and Erik appeared, I’d never heard of Draconia.”

  Thoren drummed his fingers against the table, a rolling thump-thump-thump of a busy mind. “You must have Draconi blood somewhere in your ancestry.”

  “Maybe powers work differently in my world. Magic isn’t thought to exist outside of fairy tales and fantasy novels.”

  “Perhaps.” Judging by his expression, he didn’t think much of her theory.

  “What difference does it make?” Jamie leaned forward as if to shield her from Thoren’s view.

  Parker pressed her lips together to keep the grin off her face. Damn her for a sissy, but she liked Jamie’s protective streak.

  “Just curious is all. Don’t get your tail in a kink.”

  Jamie relaxed, his shoulders dropping, his posture remaining straight as an edge. Protective.

  “Just ignore them, love.” Keara tilted her head at Thoren. “You never did tell me what a detective is.”

  “I track criminals who commit crimes.”

  Keara’s eyes flared. “It sounds dangerous.”

  “Keara,” Jamie glared, “leave her be.”

  “It can be. It’s also rewarding. Especially when the perps are caught.”

  “Perps?”

  “Perpetrators. You know. The criminals.”

  “Ah. You have different words. And a good grasp of our language. Which if she never heard of Draconia is rather amazing, don’t you think?” Keara’s eyes narrowed at her husband. Or should she say mate?

  “Good point.” Thoren looked at Jamie, brows raised as if waiting for his answer.

  Jamie cleared his throat, his ears a bright shade of tomato.

  Embarrassed in front of his puzzled parents.

  “Is giving me your language against the law or what?” Parker gave herself a mental smack as Jamie reddened even more. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Too late. As usual.

  “No,” Thoren answered and Parker breathed a sigh of relief. Last thing she wanted was to get Jamie in trouble.

  Jamie shoved his chair back, grabbing his plate. “Look at the time. We need to clean the kitchen if we want to have enough time to play Marble Jump before going to bed.”

  “Wait just a minute.” Keara’s voice stopped him halfway out of his chair. “You gave her our language?”

  “Sorry,” Parker muttered. She needed to learn to keep her mouth shut.

  Jamie’s jaw tensed. “How else was she supposed to speak before the Council?”

  “You put our language in her head.”

  “How else are we supposed to learn languages when we go on missions?”

  “Taking a language is different than giving one.”

  “It’s the same concept.”

  “Concept, yes. But for someone who has difficulty getting dressed using magic, interjecting a language into another’s head should be impossible.”

  Jamie met Keara’s gaze, eyes wide, the secret of his power written in the lines of his face.

  Apparently Keara’s surprise had nothing to do with the illegality of placing the Draconi language in her head and everything to do with Jamie’s newfound ability to work magic.

  Parker swallowed. Would they be upset to learn the small titanium screw in her arm gave Jamie the ability to work magic?

  “Maybe my magic is manifesting itself. Maybe I’m no longer as deficient as everyone thinks.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. I think it’s wonderful you have the ability to give her our language. I just meant you’ve never been able to do anything like that before. I want to know why.”

  “That’s why we’re asking these questions,” Thoren gestured to Parker. “Parker can do more than produce energy. She seems to give you the ability to work magic.”

  Jamie white-knuckled the chair and plate
as his parents watched him like he might explode. Parker watched Keara and Thoren. Watched the small tells of their body language. Knew they spoke the truth. They loved Jamie. And like he protected her, they protected him. From her.

  Put into their position, could she blame them? What did they know about her? Next to nothing. If her parents were still alive, they would react the same way. Quiz the potential spouse for criminal traits, bad behavior, violent tendencies. Yep, parents were the same no matter where one lived.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s true then. She gives you powers.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Do you really need us to spell that out?” Thoren crossed his arms.

  The chair back creaked as Jamie tightened his fingers. “Thank you for dinner. It was good. We’ll be leaving now.”

  He set his plate down and reached for her hand as Keara’s mouth opened.

  “No, no. Don’t leave. I’ve enjoyed talking to Parker. Thoren didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  Thoren raised a brow, a silent contradiction.

  Jamie gripped her hand tight enough to pop the joints. Parker opened her mouth to protest when the kitchen vanished in a blur of whirling darkness, her vision clearing to different surroundings. A small kitchen stood to one side of the room, the other held a couch, chair and table. The short hall ended in a door, which led, she assumed to the bedroom.

  Jamie’s house.

  “You can’t keep running from them. They only have your best intentions at heart.”

  “They insulted you.”

  “Oh.” Clearly she didn’t read their body language as well as she thought. “I thought they liked me.” Was that a petulant whine in her tone?

  “Yes. They like you. They don’t understand how we could be mates, though, and it scares them a little.”

  “I thought you said mates were chosen by fate, not parents. Surely that means some people find mates their parents hate.”

  “They can’t hate another Draconi.”

  “But they can humans?”

  Jamie shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sure not all parents are happy with their children’s mates. But my parents are not all parents.”