A Dragon Gambles For His Girl: A Nocturne Falls Universe story
Page 3
“Thanks.”
Ariah followed her uncle silently as they left the office, paused long enough for him to collect her bags, and climbed the elegant staircase. He brought her to the guestroom she had spent her summers in, leaving her belongings beside the white dresser. Ariah stood just inside the door, watching her uncle assess the space, turn down the bed, and finally step up to her. He took her by the shoulders and drew her into a loving embrace.
“Oh, Ariah. I have missed you. Missed you so.”
Then why didn’t you ever try to contact me? But pride wouldn’t let her say it.
His arms tightened. “Rest up, honey. I’ll find out more about your father’s predicament in the morning. Leave that to me.”
Ariah didn’t trust her voice as her throat continued to close up. She nodded against her uncle’s shoulder, finding his strength reassuring.
Uncle Mark kissed the top of her head and took his leave, closing the door behind him.
Fatigue swelled, leaving no room for emotions to seep through her shaken spirit. She kicked off her boots, shimmied free of her jacket, and slipped into the welcoming bed.
She never imagined her life could get worse. Lost in a sea of hardships with no lifeline, she’d become intimate with the rocky depths of hopelessness and despair.
Well, life just showed her the rocks she’d been scraping across the last ten years were far from the bottom.
Chapter Three
“What’s got your tail in a tizzy?”
Alazar plastered on one of his signature happy, carefree smiles and twisted on the counter stool. Zareh stood in the archway, eyes narrowed on Alazar. He tsked once and crossed the kitchen to stand with his hip against the counter.
“Morning to you, fire and sunshine. Sleep well?” Alazar raised his coffee mug in cheers. “Fresh pot on the burner.”
“That’s not going to work. You’ve been tapping your talons on the countertop for five minutes.” Zareh tugged a chunk of Alazar’s hair. “How much have you pulled out fisting and raking?”
Alazar rolled his eyes and swiveled back to the counter. “Kaylae still asleep?”
“For the moment.”
Alazar’s smile dimmed, but the grin that remained was genuine. His best friend’s lifemate was a gem. He loved her like a little sister, right down to the moments when she scolded him for losing a few hundred dollars here and there gambling. Yeah, he had a problem.
Zareh had been pissed when he had to win back Kaylae’s new Michael Kors purse after Alazar gambled it away. He put Alazar in his place that night. The keys to his car had been taken away, as well as all of his cash. As if that wasn’t enough, his small, portable chest of gold had disappeared. Alazar would have gone all fire-breather if he thought anyone but Zareh had taken it.
Alazar was five hundred and seventy-one years old, and he was grounded.
Indefinitely.
He received his money like a kid received an allowance. Once a week. A hundred bucks.
Zareh lifted the coffee mug from Alazar’s hand and took a sip from the opposite side of the rim. “Al, you really need to lay off the sugar.”
Alazar patted his flat stomach. “I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Seems the uncharacteristic tumble in your room during the night might be something to worry about.” Zareh’s brow rose when Alazar snorted. “I know it wasn’t a woman. Not with the mumblings coming from your mouth. So, want to talk about what happened?”
“I drank too much. Had to go to the bathroom.”
“You have a bionic bladder, but nice try.” Zareh took another sip of coffee and handed the mug back to Alazar. He rolled off the counter toward the fridge. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.” Zareh pulled open the fridge door and cast Alazar a glance over his shoulder. “I’m here if you change your mind.”
“Mark showed my jewel to an outsider.” The revelation brought Zareh out of the fridge to face him. His friend’s expression hardened. Alazar shrugged. “Yep. That’s pretty much how I felt being woken up in the middle of the night to stare at some strange, hazy woman.”
“Your jewel’s been asleep for over a decade. Are you sure it was him?”
“It wasn’t Baroqueth, and they’re the only ones who can break the magic protecting the jewels without a key.” Alazar started to laugh, but cut it short. “Oh, yeah. I know Mark. Big, bad Keeper man. Thinks he needs to swaddle me and sing me to sleep, except for when he’s waking me up in the middle of the night with cryptic messages.” Alazar scowled, then ticked a finger toward Zareh. “You know, you and Mark would’ve been a better pairing than we are.”
“Don’t give me that.” Zareh braced his forearms on the countertop and folded his hands together. “You care deeply for your Keeper.”
“I care for him, yes. He’s my Keeper, but he’s a bit of a papa bear when I clearly have a few centuries on him.”
“He’s a good balance for you. Mark has his head on straight.”
Alazar straightened up in his seat. “Last time I checked, mine was on pretty straight. I don’t see a scene from The Exorcist happening here.” He tapped a finger at his temple. “Straight, Zar.”
Zareh kicked the fridge door closed when the alarm began to beep and forewent whatever he hoped to find inside in favor of friend-time. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Painfully. A hundred dollars a week can’t buy me a decent meal a day.” Alazar let out a long, smoke-free breath. His shoulders sagged. “It’s been a month of this nonsense. Can I please have my dignity back?”
“I’ll think about it. Tell me more about what Mark said.”
“Nothing.” When Zareh tipped his head and glared at him, Alazar raised his hands, palms up, and shrugged. “What? He said nothing.” Then he remembered. “Oh, there was one thing.”
“Ahh. So the silent Keeper did speak.”
“Zar, seriously. I was half asleep and it was the only thing he said. He said something about it being time I saw someone.”
“The woman?”
“He hasn’t made contact with me in over a decade. I doubt he’s interested in my love life.” Alazar reached for the bag of Vampire Bites he had purchased from the Hallowed Bean earlier—it had become his Thursday morning custom to have Kaylae’s favorite donut waiting for when she woke up—and dug into the stash. Kaylae might be out of luck this particular Thursday. His actions obviously amused Zareh, judging by the telling grin teasing the corner of his mouth. “The woman? She’s the only one I saw through the jewel, but I have no idea who she is and what Mark’s business is with her.”
“Um…” Zareh pointed to his chin. Alazar stared for a short moment before he wiped a chip of vanilla glaze from his chin and shoved the rest of the small treat into his mouth. The raspberry filling inside the soft chocolate donut did little to ease his restless dragon. He dug out donut number two as his friend said, “Mark didn’t have children.”
“I’m aware,” Alazar said through a mouthful of goodness. He held up a finger as he finished the second Vampire Bite and washed it down with coffee. “He’s close to Nocturne Falls. I can trace the link between the jewel and me and find out what’s going on. He wouldn’t let a Baroqueth see that jewel. He’d give his life to keep it safe.”
“Making contact with him isn’t the best idea. Not after the Baroqueth attack on Kaylae.”
“That was a couple months ago. Besides, do you really think remaining separated from our Keepers is the best idea?”
Alazar instantly regretted his words when he saw the pain strike through Zareh’s eyes. His friend had lost his Keeper, and Kaylae her father, to the Baroqueth slayers a week before Kaylae showed up in Nocturne Falls. Zareh believed he could have prevented Talius’s death had they not been separated, and that guilt rode his shoulders like the weight of the universe.
Zareh lowered his head and tapped his thumbs together. “I’ve thought about that a lot lately.”
“What does Cade think?”
 
; Zareh shrugged and pushed off the counter. “I don’t know. It’s evident after the attack on Kaylae that the Baroqueths’ magic has grown stronger over the last three decades. The question is, how strong?”
Which supported his next point. “And while they’ve grown in power, we’ve weakened over the last thirty years. We’ve always been stronger with our Keepers. The magic between dragon and Keeper is at its full strength together. I think the attack was a wake-up call, Zar. The Keepers will not be able to protect themselves against the Baroqueth without us.”
“This world strips us of our magic. Leaves us vulnerable, unless we have a Book of Realms.”
“I’m not even sure if Mark’s family still has one after the Baroqueth destroyed most of them. Regardless, until we know how many more rogue sorcerers there are, then perhaps Cade should call us all back to The Hollow where we can prepare to fight.” Alazar took out another donut. “Oh, right. You and Kaylae have that ginormous house you’re building.”
“If it were only me, I’d go back to The Hollow in a heartbeat. I just think Kaylae needs a place where she can feel she belongs after spending most of her life feeling like an outsider. I’ll ask her in a few years how she feels about the idea.”
“What idea?”
Alazar watched Zareh’s expression go from heavy and grim to light and filled with adoration in an instant. Kaylae snatched the bag of Vampire Bites from Alazar’s loose fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, then sidled up beside Zareh. Alazar glanced away as the two lovebirds greeted each other with their ritualistic tongue dance, like they hadn’t been doing that all night.
He was truly happy for Zareh and Kaylae, but their love didn’t dull the empty void in his own chest, or the loneliness he and his dragon suffered together. Firestorm lore provided an inkling of hope that maybe the survivors of the battle thirty years ago would find lifemates. After any devastating blow to the Firestorm population, there seemed to be a strange rise in the number of female Keepers born. Nature’s way of trying to preserve their super rare dragon breed, he supposed.
The challenge with finding a lifemate was the female had to be born of a Keeper, or an immediate relative. Mark’s brother had been killed in the Baroqueth ambush, according to Cade.
“I’ll catch up with you two later,” Alazar said after clearing his throat. He climbed to his feet and brought his coffee mug to the sink. He clapped Zareh’s shoulder as he rounded the couple, flashed him a smile, wagged his brows, and headed toward the living room. “Oh, can I have my keys? I need to head out of town.”
“Al.”
“Zar,” Alazar retorted in the same stern tone. Zareh turned his head up to the ceiling. Kaylae gave Zareh’s stomach a pat and slipped out from under his arm.
“I’ll get the keys for you. You got me donuts, even if you ate half of them. Still, how can I say no?” Kaylae disappeared down the hallway toward the room she shared with Zareh.
Alazar hitched his thumb in Kaylae’s direction. “Think some of Delaney’s fudge will convince her to, say, quadruple my allowance?”
“All right, all right.” Zareh rubbed his hands down his face. “I’ll give you your money back.” He pulled out his wallet and removed two hundred-dollar bills. “That should hold you over until this afternoon. I have some stops to make. Don’t do anything foolish.”
Alazar flashed Zareh a full, white-toothed smile and snatched up the money. “Oh, my friend. I’m not the foolish kind.”
“One might argue that point.”
Kaylae returned a minute later. Alazar thanked her with a kiss on the top of her head, waved the keys, and left the house.
There were times when putting up a façade was as wearing on his spirit as the turmoil that tore him up inside. He was the lighthearted one, the carefree dragon, the funny guy who could lighten the mood no matter how dark. To most, nothing seemed to bother him. He skated through life, happy as can be.
What happened when the funny guy needed a break from the performance, he wondered, when his own situation was as dour as the rest of the clan’s?
Alazar jammed the key into the ignition and pumped the accelerator, enjoying the deep rumble of the engine as it roared to life. Where Zareh liked the big luxury SUV types, Alazar loved his sporty black Mustang. Just him, the horses under the hood, and the road.
Right now, open roads and careless speeds would have to wait.
He was overdue for a visit with his Keeper.
Chapter Four
Ariah stared up at the sign and scratched her head beneath the knitted cap.
“Mummy’s Diner.”
This was the sixth or seventh place in Nocturne Falls that had a Halloweeny name. Uncle Mark had described the quaint town as a hot tourist destination for those obsessed with Halloween who wanted to celebrate it every day of the year outside its October birthday.
Thus far, the town exceeded her expectations.
Nocturne Falls was Halloween in every facet of the word, from the quirky architecture of some of the buildings—those that looked rickety and ready to implode—to the vibrant color schemes. Once upon a time, the bright oranges, pinks, and purples would have made her smile and bounce like a child. Now? She enjoyed morose colors that seemed to paint her life. The black, midnight blues, and darker shades of green suited her palette far better.
Uncle Mark stepped up beside her with a smile, his dark eyes warm, and motioned to the front door. “Come on, honey.”
Her uncle rested a hand between her shoulder blades and urged her forward. He held the door for her and she stepped into the packed diner. The delicious aromas of fresh-cooked meals hit her nostrils, making her jaw ache and her mouth water mercilessly. Her stomach churned and growled. Yes, she could scent the distinct smell of grease, but it didn’t smack her in the face like it did at her old jobs. Walking into one of the diners where she worked was like walking into a month-old grease pit with food to match.
“Welcome to Mummy’s. How many?” the hostess asked, brushing her bangs from her eyes as she appeared out of the mid-morning melee.
Uncle Mark held up two fingers. “Two, thank you.”
The young woman smiled, grabbed up two menus, and led them down an aisle to a two-seater table in the corner of the main dining room. Ariah glanced around, hoping for a booth but coming up short of any empty tables.
Now this is a place where I could actually make a few bucks.
As she sat in the chair her uncle pulled out for her—always the perfect gentleman—she pondered the downward spiral of her life. At seventeen, she had a bright and promising future. At twenty-seven, she was living below the poverty line. She accepted hand-me-downs from coworkers to keep clothes on her body. A coworker who attended cosmetology school did her hair for free. She snagged food from plates when customers were finished with their meals to barely keep her belly satisfied. Never once in a million years would she have believed she’d be reduced to eating off a stranger’s plate, but when her boss was a jerk and required money for so much as a breadstick, yeah, she scavenged.
They ordered coffees from the hostess before the woman bounced over to a server with their request.
Ariah lifted the menu and snickered at the tagline.
“‘Our food is to die for,’ eh?” She shook her head. “Interesting place.”
“Some of the best blueberry pancakes you’ll sink a fork into.” Uncle Mark pushed his menu to the side and folded his hands on the tabletop. He tilted his head, succeeding in catching her eyes. “Are they still your favorite?”
Ariah managed a half-grin. The last time she ate decent blueberry pancakes was almost six years ago. “I guess.”
The corner of her uncle’s mouth twitched. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Ari. Want to unload some of your burden?”
“No burden, really. It’s just been”—how was she to say it without her uncle prodding deeper?—“difficult trying to process what happened yesterday. That’s all.”
She reinforced he
r response with a full smile.
“I’ll trust your word, Uncle Mark. Blueberry pancakes that are to die for?” She flicked her index finger at him and winked. “You’re on.”
Her uncle chuckled and shook his head, but concern didn’t disappear from his eyes. “You’ve got a deal.”
Their server came over with their coffees and took their orders before continuing her table hop. Ariah cupped the hot mug, warming her cold fingers, leaned over the steaming black drink and took a deep breath. Ahh, so long since she’d had a good cup of coffee.
She took a sip, earning a quirked brow from her uncle.
“Black?” he asked.
“No reason to dilute a good brew.”
“Huh.” He poured cream into his coffee and stirred. “You were never one for strong, potent tastes.”
“Things change.”
His gaze deepened, pinning her. She could almost feel his essence prying back the shutters of her mind, seeking the secrets she buried.
“Yes. They do.” After a long moment, he tapped the spoon on the edge of his cup and rested it on his napkin. “I spoke with a contact of mine who has been in touch with an impressive lawyer to take on your father’s case.”
“You know, he’s still your brother.”
A sad grin ghosted across his mouth and disappeared. “How could I forget?”
“I should try and call the police station. At least find out where he’s being held.”
“The less you’re involved, the better. If Mike did, in fact, encounter a threat and sent you away to protect you, it’s best for you to stay off the radar. Let my contact handle things for the moment.”
Silence stretched between them, time ticking by. The server came back with their orders. Ariah inhaled the sweetly delicious aroma of her blueberry pancakes and smiled. A pile of perfectly fluffy steaming goodness.
“Not good table talk. Let’s leave the family dynamics for your home office.” Ariah picked up her fork and knife, cut a huge chunk off her pile of pancakes, and brought it to her mouth. “Here comes the truth.”