by Zoe Chant
“Please, allow me to watch over you tonight,” Dai said to Virginia, as casually as he could with his inner dragon roaring in eagerness. “It’s not safe for you to be alone, and not just for medical reasons. The dragon threatened to return.”
That bothered him. If she’d never seen a dragon before—and clearly she hadn’t—how could she have taken something from one’s hoard? Had the other dragon been lying? He pushed the thought away; there were much more important matters to deal with now.
Virginia’s eyes widened. “It—what?”
“Shh, shh!” Dai grabbed her shoulders as her breathing started to go shallow and panicky. “It’s all right. I’m here to protect you.”
“From dragons?”
“Yes. It’s, ah, sort of my specialty.”
She stared at him, apparently taking in his uniform. “But you’re a firefighter,” she said blankly.
“Yes. But I’m also a dragon...”
That monster, she had said.
“...hunter,” Dai finished.
It was true. Just not...the whole truth.
“A dragon hunter.” Virginia made a choked hiccup of strangled laughter. “I managed to call a firefighter who’s also a dragon hunter. Boy, is it my lucky day. Apart from the dragon, of course.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly luck,” Dai said, rubbing his thumbs over her shoulders soothingly. She was still looking rather wild-eyed, but at least no longer on the verge of a panic attack. “Our dispatchers know to send the, ah, unusual calls to our crew. We’re used to handling this sort of thing. I really can protect you from the dragon.”
Virginia bit her lip. She seemed to waver for a moment, then shook her head. “This is crazy. Everything is crazy. I don’t even know your name.”
“Dai. Daifydd Drake.” Dai exaggerated the soft th sound of the dd—from her accent, she was American, and they always seemed to have difficulty pronouncing Welsh names.
He stuck out his hand. “East Sussex Fire and Rescue. At your service.”
Now, and forever.
Chapter 3
This is crazy.
Of course, compared to all the crazy things that had happened this evening—finding Brithelm’s burial mound, the confrontation with Bertram, the motherfucking dragon—inviting a strange man to stay the night seemed positively sensible. Nonetheless, the taxi ride back to her rented apartment was long enough for some of Virginia’s shock to wear off, allowing second thoughts to creep in.
Am I being stupid, trusting a man I’ve only just met?
Virginia knew that she should have meekly gone to the hospital and let the doctors take care of her. But that would mean delaying investigating her find. Virginia once again touched the thrilling weight of the gold nose-guard safely hidden in her pocket and shook her head. She couldn’t afford to wait—and it wasn’t just to satisfy her own burning curiosity. She doubted that it was mere coincidence that the dragon had appeared after she’d found the artifact.
Virginia was familiar with many dragon legends from across Europe, and a common factor in them all was the great wyrms’ lust for gold. Somehow the beast must have sensed her removing the treasure from its hiding place, and come to retrieve it. But how? Virginia mentally added it to the long list of questions to ask Dai later.
She cast a sideways glance at Dai’s profile, half-seen in the dim, strobing glow of the streetlights passing by outside the taxi’s window. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at his face yet, with all the smoke and confusion at the site of the fire.
I don’t know anything about this man. Apart from the fact that he’d pulled her out of a burning building, which anyone would have had to admit was a pretty excellent character recommendation.
However, there was still something about the set of his powerful shoulders that projected an aura of danger. Even his tiniest movements seemed controlled, deliberate, as if he had to keep himself tightly in check at all times. He’d opened the taxi door for her as carefully as if he’d been worried he might absentmindedly tear it off its hinges.
Yet despite all that contained strength, Virginia didn’t feel the slightest bit uneasy around him. Sitting next to Dai was like huddling next to a roaring campfire—something fierce and dangerous that nonetheless provided life-giving warmth, and protection against the encircling dark.
Virginia shook her head again, more ruefully. If the paramedic hadn’t given me a clean bill of health, I would suspect that I have a concussion.
The taxi slowed to a crawl, pulling into a street of close-packed Victorian townhouses, and stopped outside her building. Dai was out of the car and opening her door even before Virginia had managed to get her seat belt unbuckled.
“I’ll pay the driver,” he said, in that lilting Welsh accent that seemed incongruously gentle coming from such a big man. Virginia could feel the calluses on his long, strong fingers as he offered her a steadying hand out of the car. “Do you need help up the stairs?”
“I’m fine,” Virginia said, though in truth she had to haul herself up the few steps to the front door.
Her legs had definitely had enough tonight, and were threatening to mutiny from her body. She surreptitiously leaned on the wrought-iron banister as she fumbled for her keys, grateful that she had the ground-floor apartment.
She let herself into the high-ceilinged lounge, and some of the lingering tightness in her chest eased. Even though it was only a temporary rental rather than a home, it was comforting to be in a space of her own. The research papers scattered over the worn sofa were just as she’d left them this morning, back when the world had been a rational place. It felt like an aeon ago now.
Virginia took the nose-guard out of her pocket, eager to see it in decent light. For the second time that evening, she found herself unable to breathe. It made every piece of Saxon gold work she’d ever seen before—even the famous Sutton Hoo helmet—look like cheap costume jewelry.
Down the length of the nose-guard, the thick gold was chased with exquisitely carved spiraling dragons, writhing round small cabochon rubies. A much larger cabochon ruby took pride of place at the top of the piece, which would have placed it centrally on the forehead of the warrior wearing the helmet. The ruby seemed to glow through the dirt veiling it, a rich blood-red with a dazzling six-pointed star captured within its depths.
Virginia bit her lip, glancing out the bay window. The taxi was just pulling away, which meant that Dai would be entering the apartment at any moment. Where he would find her standing with a king’s ransom in the palm of her hand...
And I really don’t know anything about this guy.
Even if Dai wasn’t the sort to be personally tempted by a hunk of solid gold set with precious gems, there was still the fact that he worked in emergency services, alongside the police. Who would already want to be asking searching questions about how the fire started, and why she’d been up on the Downs in the middle of the night in the first place.
If Dai found out about the artifact, he’d probably feel obliged to inform the police, and then they’d find out that she’d been illegally metal-detecting without the permission of the landowner. In the best case, they’d confiscate the artifact, and she’d lose all chance to work on the find.
In the worst case, it would end up in Bertram’s hands.
Best if Dai just doesn’t find out about this.
Cradling the treasure, Virginia glanced around. Her tools and specimen boxes were set out on the small dining table, where she’d been working on some coins and minor finds from other sites, but that that didn’t feel like a safe enough hiding place.
Hearing boots coming down the hall, she dashed into her bedroom and yanked open the drawer of her bedside cabinet. She tucked the nose-guard carefully out of sight behind a packet of tissues, a tube of hand cream, and a box of aspirin. As an extra deterrent to casual snooping, she made sure her favorite vibrator was right at the front.
There. That ought to do it.
“Virginia?” Dai called from the loung
e. Virginia heard him shut the door behind himself. “Are you all right?”
“Be out in a sec!” Virginia called back.
She tiptoed into the en suite bathroom and flushed the toilet, just in case he was wondering at her absence. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she wrinkled her nose at her charred hair and soot-smeared face. Shower battled sleep on her list of priorities...but neither was as important as finally getting some answers. She pulled off her ruined coat, dropping it in a corner as she left the bedroom.
“Dai,” she said as she reentered the lounge. “I want to know—”
The words died in her throat.
Okay. I have not just invited a strange man over to stay the night. I have invited an incredibly attractive strange man round to stay the night.
Dai had his helmet under one arm, revealing a strong, square-jawed face that made Virginia’s tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. A streak of ash cut across his smooth tanned skin, highlighting the perfect planes of his cheekbones. He absently ran a hand through his short, red-gold hair, tousling the loose curls even further as he looked around.
His bright green eyes seemed to take in every detail at a glance, with the casual but sweeping appraisal of some large predator scanning its surroundings for prey. That assessing gaze snagged on the smoke alarm set into the ceiling. He reached up to it, not even having to stretch onto his toes to push the test button.
“Sorry,” Dai said sheepishly, as a loud beeping filled the small room. “Professional habit. You wouldn’t believe how many people take the batteries out of these.” He jabbed the button again to shut the alarm up. He cocked his head to one side, looking down at her. “What were you saying?”
Virginia belatedly realized that she’d just been staring slack-jawed at him. She struggled to recapture her previous train of thought despite the looming distraction occupying a sizable fraction of her lounge.
“Uh. Dragons. Yes. That was it.” She cleared her throat. Down, girl. So the firefighter is hot like burning. He’s here in a professional capacity only. His other professional capacity. “Do dragons come into cities?”
The corner of Dai’s mouth twisted wryly. “Yes. But we’re safer here than out in the middle of the countryside with no witnesses, at least. We—they normally try to avoid attracting attention.”
“I should think it’s damn hard for a fifty-foot dragon to avoid attracting attention!”
“You’d be surprised. Many dragons can do a sort of mind trick, which stops people from being able to see them.”
“Oh good.” Virginia collapsed into the nearest chair. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Fifty-foot invisible dragons.”
“Don’t worry, it only works on ordinary people.” Dai navigated his way gingerly around the furniture to her side, having some difficulty finding space for his large, heavy boots amidst the scattered books.
He made a short, abortive gesture, as if he’d started to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but had stopped himself. “I can see them. He can’t hide from me.”
“But it can make itself invisible to me? Even if I’m standing right in front of it?” Virginia shivered. Despite the warmth of Dai’s reassuring presence, the thought of something being able to make her not notice it made her blood run cold. “Do you learn to resist dragon mind tricks as part of being a dragon hunter? Can you teach me how to do it too?”
Dai shook his head. “It’s something you’re born with, I’m afraid.” He hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You have to be...part-dragon. Descended from them.”
“Are you telling me that the fifty-foot invisible dragons can,” Virginia groped for a politer word than the first that had sprung to mind, “interbreed with people?”
“Ah, yes.” Dai avoided her eyes, busying himself unfastening his uniform jacket. “Dragons don’t always look like dragons.”
With a slight wince, he shrugged off the protective jacket. Underneath he was wearing a simple black T-shirt which strained against his upper arms. Braces ran over his shoulders, holding up his fire-resistant pants and emphasizing the hard lines of his muscled chest. He adjusted one of the straps as he spoke. “Dragons are shifters, you see. Most of the time, they are people.”
Virginia stared at him, for more than one reason. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying that dragons can turn into people.”
Dai fidgeted, rubbing at one shoulder. “I’m saying some people can turn into dragons.”
Virginia did not feel that this was the time to argue semantics. “Whatever. And they sometimes...mate with people.”
The tips of Dai’s ears were turning red. “Quite often. Ah, that is, I mean, often dragons take a mate, not that they often mate with lots of—”
Virginia held up both hands to stop him, shuddering in revulsion. “Please do not tell me about the sex lives of dragons. I don’t even want to think about it.”
Dai’s mouth opened, then shut again. He looked desperately uncomfortable. “It’s not—”
“Seriously, this is the one area where I really don’t need details.” Something was nagging at Virginia. She frowned, thinking back over the night. She abruptly sat bolt upright. “Bertram!”
Dai looked taken aback. “Pardon?”
“Bertram. Bertram Russell. He’s a...sort of professional rival of mine.”
Dai glanced down at the maps and papers scattered around his feet, then at the small brushes and magnifying glasses laid out on the dining table. “You’re an archaeologist?”
Virginia liked the rather reverent way he said the word. It made a nice change from the raised eyebrows she usually got when she mentioned her profession. “Yes. I specialize in the early Saxon period, particularly tracking migrations across Europe. Anyway, earlier tonight I ran into Bertram at a building site his family owns, up on the Downs. I ended up running away because I thought he was going to attack me, but when I looked back he’d vanished. And then...”
Her stomach clenched at the memory of bone-white claws stabbing at her, and she had to pause for a moment to regain her composure. “Then the dragon appeared.”
Dai’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “He’s the shifter, then.”
He fell silent, studying her. Virginia had the uncomfortable feeling that those clear green eyes could read her like an open book. She was certain that he’d noticed the way she hadn’t mentioned just why she’d been up on the Downs in the first place. She was mentally scrabbling for an excuse for her night time hike that didn’t involve a fortune in gold, when Dai spoke again. “Dragons are incredibly possessive.”
It was Virginia’s turn to blink at the apparent non sequitur. “What do you mean?”
“A dragon always has a hoard. Gold and jewels are irresistibly attractive, especially anything unique or significant in some way. But taking even the smallest coin from a dragon’s hoard is like kidnapping one of their children. He’d stop at nothing to get it back.”
“I didn’t take anything that belongs to Bertram,’ Virginia said firmly.
It was technically true, she told herself. The nose-guard, and anything else that remained in Brithelm’s burial mound, was part of Britain’s cultural heritage. By law, it belonged to the nation, not to whoever happened to own the land it was found on.
Dai let out his breath, looking relieved. “That’s good.” Virginia felt a twinge of guilt at the way he just took her words on trust, without asking for any details. “It avoids certain...complications with draconic law.”
Implying that if she had stolen something, Dai wouldn’t have been able to stop the dragon from taking it back. It was a good thing Bertram hadn’t managed find the artifact first. Virginia felt physically ill at the thought of the artifacts that must be gathering dust in the dragon’s hoard. The nose-guard’s true value did not lie in mere gold or jewels, but in the hidden stories it contained, waiting to be unlocked by careful study. The thought of Bertram hoarding it away to privately gloat over was unbearable.
“You know
, this does explain a lot about Bertram,” she mused aloud. “Now I know why he’s such a nasty, controlling, sneering bastard. Suddenly, it makes perfect sense. It’s because he’s a dragon.”
All the relief fled from Dai’s face, chased away by dismay. “He could just be a bastard.”
Is he defending dragons? Virginia was momentarily puzzled, until she remembered something he’d said earlier. “Wait. You’re a dragon hunter.”
“It’s something I do, yes,” Dai said, cautiously. “But if you’re asking me to kill this Bertram—”
Virginia cut him off with a shake of her head. “Tempting, but not where I was going.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied him from head to toe. “You said you had to be part-dragon in order to hunt them, right?”
Every muscle in Dai’s shoulders tensed. “Yes.”
“So you’ve got dragon blood.”
Dai looked like a man staring down a firing squad. “Yes.”
“Which you’re bleeding all over my carpet.”
Dai blinked. “What?”
“You’re bleeding, Dai!” Virginia launched herself out of her chair as yet more crimson drops joined the spreading stain on the beige carpet. All other thoughts fled her mind at a sudden urgent, instinctive need to make sure he was all right. “Did you get hurt in the fire?”
“Oh, that. It’s just a scratch.” Dai rubbed at his shoulder again, then looked at the palm of his hand, which was now covered in blood. “Ah. Hm.”
“Let me see,” Virginia demanded, pulling at his arm.
Dai was so tall, he had to go down on one knee to let her get a good look at his shoulder. His T-shirt was wet with blood, clinging to the curves of his back like a second skin.
Virginia gingerly peeled the shredded fabric away, and sucked in her breath at the sight of the puncture wound in the thick muscle of his left shoulder. “Dai, I think you need to go to the hospital.”
Dai rolled his shoulder experimentally. His jaw clenched, but he shook his head. “It’s all right. I can still use it.”
