The Blackstone She-Dragon: Blackstone Mountain Book 8

by Alicia Montgomery

  “Er, hold on, could you slow down, sir?” Charlie shot Sybil a look that said, is this guy serious?

  Sybil slapped a palm to her head. “You can write down, Prince Aleksei.”

  “His Royal Highness, Prince Aleksei.” Aleksei corrected, peering at Charlie’s notepad.

  “Right. And you’re visiting here?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a guest of my dad,” Sybil added. “From out of the country.”

  “All right.” Charlie shrugged. “So, you guys were out here during the explosion? Can you tell me from the beginning what happened?”

  “Well, we came out here to … er … talk.” Sybil hoped Charlie couldn’t see the redness on her cheeks. “And we were … talking and then I heard this big boom.”

  “The force of the explosion knocked us down.” Aleksei turned his back to show Charlie his shirt. The skin was smooth and healed, but the shirt hung like ribbons down his back.

  Charlie whistled. “Whoa.” He scribbled down on his notepad. “Did you see anything or hear anyone before the explosion?”

  “Sorry, we weren’t paying attention.” Sybil coughed. “We were only out here for five minutes when it happened. Listen, Charlie.” She lowered her voice. “What’s going on? Do you guys know anything yet?”

  “There’s nothing concrete yet,” Charlie said. “But … don’t tell anyone I told you this … so the guy whose car exploded, turns out he’s on the run, hiding out here in Blackstone. Not only does he have several outstanding warrants, but Chief Meacham says he’s on the run from the mob or something back east.”

  Sybil gasped. “And they think the mob got to his car?”

  “Possibly. It sounds like something they would do.” But she could hear the doubt in his voice.

  Aleksei’s eyes narrowed. “You think there’s another explanation?”

  Charlie scratched his finger on his jaw. “It seems like a movie, right? I mean, guy runs away from the mob, they find him, and then plant a bomb on his car? And you know, I was a beat cop in New York for a couple years before I came back here. The real mob—like the ones who have real power—never cause such a fuss. The guy wasn’t a shifter or anything, a bullet in the head would have been cleaner.”

  Sybil thought that made sense. But before she could ask any further, Chief Meacham, who was standing next to the burned-out car, called out to Charlie.

  “Er, thanks for this.” He waved his pad. “I’ll keep in touch if we have any more questions. You still at the Social Welfare Office?” She nodded. “And you Mr., er, Prince?”

  Aleksei snorted. “I am staying at The Blackstone Hotel.”

  “Great.” He slipped his pad into his pocket. “I’ll see you around, Sybil.”

  “Sybil!”

  She turned around when she heard her name. Ian, Dutchy, Kate, and Amelia were walking toward them. “Did you talk to the police yet?”

  “Yes.” She relayed to them what Charlie had told her.

  “It seems rather cut and dried if ye ask me,” Ian said.

  “Ugh, sorry about your car,” Kate said. “I know you really loved it and saved up for it.”

  “Yeah.” She looked back at the hunk of metal that was her Prius and sighed. The initial shock had worn off, and her chest tightened. It wasn’t just the loss of the monetary value of the car that made her sad, but, as Kate said, it was one of the first things she owned that she paid for all by herself once she got her job. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears.

  “I can give you a ride home.” Kate’s gaze flickered at Aleksei. “Unless, you know, you had other plans.”

  “What?” Embarrassment made her cringe inwardly, as she remembered what her friends had witnessed. “No! I mean, yes, I will need a ride home.” And I’ll have to figure out how to get to work in the morning. She made a mental note to send an email to her insurance agent. “But, will you give me a second?”

  “Take your time.” Kate gave her a wink. “I’ll be over by my car.”

  When her friends were far enough away, she looked at Aleksei. “Uhm, so …” She stopped when she saw the expression on his face, which was drawn into a scowl. She could feel the tension rolling off him. She couldn’t quite remember why she needed to talk to him. “Are you all right?”

  “I told you, I am fine.” He wasn’t looking at her, but rather, he looked like he was deep in thought.

  “Do you have, I mean, did you drive here?”

  “I flew here, of course.” He was staring off into the distance, his brows drawn together.

  His curtness made her step back, and the sting from his chilly tone came out of nowhere. Obviously, they had both been caught up in the moment and she had misinterpreted what happened earlier. “Great. I guess I’ll see you around then.” She pivoted and began to walk away. She thought she heard him call her name but ignored it and quickly jogged toward Kate.

  “Everything all right?” Kate had a smug smile on her face. “I mean, you know, you two looked mighty cozy back there.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, yeah? What do you think I think?”

  “I don’t want to say it because knowing you, your mind’s probably in the gutter.” Oh God. Aleksei’s lips. His hands. And the … other parts of his body. She pushed down the desire threatening to rise up. Maybe she’d imagined it all. Why did he suddenly grow indifferent after talking to Charlie? Did he think that she and Charlie—

  “Sybil?” Kate was waving a hand in front of her.

  “What? I mean, can you just take me home, please?” She sighed. “I’m really tired.”

  Kate gave her a sympathetic look. “All right. It’s been a long night.”

  “Yeah.” Oh no! She’d been thinking of herself this whole time and totally forgot about Kate’s party. “Sorry about your party.”

  Kate guffawed. “Well, I wanted it to end with a bang, right?”

  Chapter Eight

  Once she got home, Sybil made herself some chamomile tea before bed and got lost in a boring book about history. Usually, she indulged in some delicious romance novel before bed, but she just couldn’t tonight. Not after the way Aleksei had acted. He was all over her one moment, and then dropping her like a hot potato the next. Much to her surprise, Sybil slept soundly for the most part.

  It was early still, which meant she had a few minutes to get lost in her own thoughts. What exactly was going on with Aleksei? That kiss was mind-bending, to say the least. And the way he touched her … his mouth and hands were branded into her brain.

  I don’t have time for this, she thought as she rolled out of bed and dragged herself to the shower. After she finished getting dressed, she trudged to the kitchen to start her coffee. If Aleksei wanted to play games, then that was his problem, not hers.

  And speaking of problems, she had nearly forgotten about her car. How was she supposed to get to work today? She had already sent a text message to Angie to tell her she might be late if she couldn’t get a taxi to come out to her place. Most drivers didn’t like driving to this part of town, because, well—and she hated to agree with Luke—her neighborhood was dodgy. She supposed she could have asked Kate or Amelia for a ride, but she hadn’t thought that far ahead last night.

  A knock on the door surprised her and she nearly dropped the bag of coffee beans she was preparing to grind. Who the heck would be here this early? It was only seven o’clock. She trudged to the door and looked out of the peephole . A man stood outside, dressed in overalls bearing the logo of a car dealership she recognized from Verona Mills. She opened the door. “Yes?”

  “Miss Sybil Lennox?”

  “That’s me.” She glanced down at the name tag on his shirt that said “Chip.”

  He reached into his pocket and held out a set of keys for her. “Your Prius is downstairs.”

  “My w-what?”

  Chip checked his clipboard. “Your replacement car. My boss said I had to get this here lickety-split
,” he said in an annoyed tone.

  She stared at the keys hanging in front of her. “Wow.” She knew her insurance agent was efficient, but not this efficient. “Thanks.”

  “Sign here.” He handed her a pen and she scrawled her signature on the blank line at the bottom. “It’s downstairs if you want to check it out.”

  “Sure.” She grabbed her things and then followed Chip outside. There was a shiny new Prius sitting in the driveway. It was the newest model, as far as she could tell, while hers had been a few years old. “Am I really covered for this?”

  “Don’t know nothing about that, lady. I’m just here to bring it to ya. Ya got a problem with it, talk to my boss.” He handed her a card. “Otherwise, I’m outta here.”

  Jeez, he sure was grumpy! “I’m sure it’s fine.” She unlocked the car and slipped inside then pushed the start button. “Whoa.” Her previous car had the most basic package, but this one looked like it had all the upgrades—leather seats, GPS system built in, multimedia package, moonroof, surround sound speakers, the works. Huh.

  She shrugged. Well, she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though this horse seems way too decked out for what she had been paying. Remembering the time, she realized that she could still make it to work early if she left now.

  As Sybil drove to work, her mind drifted back to Aleksei. Where could he be now? Her dragon whined and reminded her of that soul-searing kiss last night. “Ugh!” She nearly missed her turn, and made it just in time to pull into the office parking lot. She had barely walked in when Angie came rushing at her. Angie Davenport was an older tiger shifter in her fifties with wild curly dark hair, ebony skin, and horn-rimmed glasses. She’d been the director of the social welfare office for nearly two decades.

  “Sybil, we have a situation.” Her boss’s face was drawn into a serious expression.

  “What situation?” The hairs on her arm stood on end. This did not feel right.

  “It’s Greg Peterson.” She lowered her voice as she dragged Sybil into her office. When the door shut behind her, she motioned for her to sit down, but she declined. “All right, but don’t do anything rash.”

  “Will you please just tell me what’s going on, Ange?”

  Angie sighed and took off her glasses. “Another domestic violence call to the Petersons. This time it was a neighbor and shots were fired. Greg Peterson won’t let anyone in the house and says he’s got a shotgun. The police are handling—where are you going?”

  Sybil was already halfway out the door. “I’m going over there!”

  “I told you, the police are handling it. They don’t need us yet.” Angie’s voice was stern.

  “And when are we supposed to go there? When Greg Peterson puts a bullet in his wife’s head in front of their son?” Her heart was pounding in her chest as her dragon lit up in rage.

  “And what are you going to do?” Angie challenged, her eyes glowing. “When you came to work here, you told me you could control your dragon.”

  “I can. And I have.” She tamped down the snarl in her throat. “But you know they’re going to need us.”

  “And you have a caseload the size of Texas. What about the others who need you today?”

  Sybil was torn. Angie was right; although the Social Welfare Office responded to calls like this, it wasn’t usually until the end when they had the suspect in custody and the victim needed their support. If there were any victims left. She gritted her teeth. “Fine. Go ahead and fire me if you want, but I’m going there now.” She had a very bad feeling about Greg Peterson, and her instinct never steered her wrong.

  She breezed out of Angie’s office and headed to the exit, pushing the door to head out. Her thoughts whirled around Charlie and Emma Peterson, wondering how they were right now. Somehow, she had to save them. It would be at least a thirty-minute drive to Neville, and who knows what could happen— “Holy mo—Aleksei?”

  Aleksei had literally materialized in front of her, and had she been a hair faster, she would have knocked right into him. His handsome face drew into a frown when their eyes met.

  “Something is wrong.”

  “I have to go.” She pushed around him, but a hand on her arm whirled her around. “Let go, I need to be somewhere!”

  “What’s the matter, lyubimaya? Are you hurt? Did you not like the vehicle I had sent to your home this morning?”

  “I’m fine and—wait, what do you mean the vehicle you sent?”

  “You were in need of transportation; I got you a car. Like your old one.”

  “What?” Aleksei had bought her a car? Just like that? Jeez, did that money come from like, taxes on his people? Matthias suggested that the Water Dragons didn’t have much, and from the way he dressed, Sybil had always thought that maybe they were some impoverished nation. “Why did you do that?”

  “Was it not to your liking?” he asked. “I could get you something else. A … Mercedes or a Porsche?”

  “Huh? No! Argh! I don’t have time for this.” She walked away from him, toward the car he apparently bought her but Aleksei blocked her again.

  He gripped her arms gently. “Why are you in distress?”

  She blew a stray lock of hair that had somehow stuck to her forehead. “It’s the Petersons. Charlie and his mom might be in danger.”

  As she quickly explained to him what Angie told her, his grip tightened and his jaw clenched. “I told him …” His pupils flickered into slits and began to glow. “He will pay if something happens to the woman or child.”

  “Yeah, well, we gotta get there first. And it’s at least a half hour drive.”

  “Not if we fly.”

  “Fly? Are you joking?” Sybil looked him straight in the eye. No, he wasn’t joking. “We can’t just swoop in there in dragon form.”

  “Why not? Shifters are not a big secret here, are they?”

  “No, but Peterson’s unstable. Who knows what he’ll do.”

  Aleksei thought for a moment. “Then we will be stealthy and come up with a plan to rescue the woman and the child and have the authorities handle the rest.”

  This was crazy. But then again, isn’t that what she had been thinking of the moment she walked out of work? Hopefully they’d get there in time. “Turn around,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse.

  “Why? What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to shift,” she said, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

  He grabbed her hand. “There is no need for that. You can ride on my back.”

  “Excuse me? I’m a dragon too, remember?”

  “I know, lyubimaya.” He kissed her knuckles, a move that made her shiver. “But, you do not know the magic we use to keep our clothes on during a shift nor that of Cloaking. Would you delay us even further by changing clothes? Or give away our presence?”

  “Well …”

  “If you ride on my back, you will be Cloaked as well.” He stepped back from her. “I will teach you the magic some other time, but for now, this is the fastest way.”

  Sybil didn’t want to waste any more time. “Fine. But you can’t shift out here.”

  “No one will see me. Only those I choose to see me.” He stretched his arms out and began to shift. The fingers of his hands elongated and turned into those delicate fin-like wings, as the rest of his body grew and grew and his skin turned into blue-green scales. When he was done, his serpentine body was over fifty feet long, his wing span about half that. He didn’t have any other limbs, so he was like a cross between a wyvern and serpent, the lower half of his body coiled around the ground and his wings flapped, sending a gush of wind. The burst of power she felt as he transformed nearly knocked her off her feet.

  His head lowered and Sybil looked up into his eyes. Aleksei’s sea-green eyes. He cocked his head at her, as if telling her to get on.

  “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled to herself. Her brothers would probably laugh at her if they found out. “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” She climbed onto his back and
then hung onto one of his fins. “All right, I’m as ready as I can be.”

  The dragon lowered its body close to the ground and then sprang up, using its coiled tail to launch it into the air as its wings flapped. Sybil had to admit it was fascinating, how different his dragon was from hers. Her dragon’s wingspan was much larger, twice its own body length which allowed it to lift off with just a beat of her wings.

  Aleksei’s dragon flew through the air much faster than Sybil thought he could. Maybe he was much more aerodynamic than she was, as he moved quickly. She guessed since he’d already flown from Neville, he already knew where to go and she was right. They landed right behind the Peterson’s house.

  She had seen the four patrol cars outside the front and her heart sank. As soon as the dragon steadied itself and began to shrink down, she slid off its back and headed straight to the back porch, not bothering to wait for Aleksei.

  Sybil could hear the officers milling about outside, talking in soft voices and the crackle of the radio every now and then. She supposed they had tried everything they could to coax Greg Peterson to let his family go. She peered in through the window and used her shifter vision to see what was happening.

  Greg Peterson was standing in the middle of the living room, shotgun in hand. Emma and Charlie were huddled together on the couch, and Sybil could practically feel the fear rolling off them. Emma murmured something unintelligible, which made Greg tense and stride toward his wife.

  “Sybil,” Aleksei whispered as he came up behind her. “Why did you not—”

  “Shhh!” She held up her hand and scowled at him. When she turned back to the window, she heard a small voice cry, “No, Daddy, don’t!” and then a loud, resounding slap.

  Her dragon reared up inside her, then roared in fury. The heat began burning in her stomach, the dragon fire building like bile in her throat.

  “Sybil …”

  She could hardly hear Aleksei now as the blood rushed into her head. Her mind and her dragon melded together, and as a singular being, they walked toward the door.