Dragon's Heat (City Dragons Book 1)

by Lisa Oliver

  Jon froze as the two men looked his way. He was edging along the wall, doing his best to remain undetected. Dirk was pounding on the door, his rage evident in the thumps and yells coming through the thickened steel.

  “So, I can’t kill you yet,” Dirk’s father leveled the gun at him again. “But I can make you wish you were dead unless you plan on letting my nephew know how to get back into the system.”

  “I can’t do that.” Jon shook his head. “No one can get into that system but me. If you try, it’ll set off a virus and kill the system completely. That means all the accounts will be frozen and no one will be able to touch any of the money in them until they’ve cracked the virus. And that will take months.”

  “We don’t have months,” Byron whispered while Jeremy looked at him with ill-disguised contempt. “We have to find a way to pay that dowry back before the Ahlbergs go public with our humiliation.”

  They have the dowry already? Then what…?

  “I wouldn’t have had to resort to any of this if you had kept control of your dragon.” The older man turned to his son. “Ahlberg paid that money in return for one of my sons bonding with that damn daughter of his. Now she’s disappeared, Ahlberg is calling for my head.”

  “You knew she was pregnant?” Jon couldn’t help himself. His dog was a curious creature.

  “Of course, I knew,” Dirk’s father swung around to him again. “Why else would a family like theirs consider merging with us? They’ve got bigger hoards than you can dream of. You’ve ruined more than Celine’s future, boy.”

  “What will happen to the baby?” Jon felt a pang for the unborn child. “You won’t be able to hide it’s a half-breed.”

  “Children die at birth. Shit happens. Celine and her husband will go into mourning and after a suitable time, will start breeding pure dragons the way life intended. We’ll all be rich. We’ll be able to milk Ahlberg for everything he’s got. He’s willing to give up everything to protect the reputation of his precious daughter. I intend to make sure he does.”

  Jon was horrified and even Jeremy looked sick. Byron was staring at his father as though he’d grown two heads. Jon could still hear Dirk ranting and raving on the other side of the door. But it wasn’t Dirk he needed right now. It was his dragon. Slipping his hand under his shirt, he felt the stickiness of his own blood. I need your strength, he sent out, praying Dirk’s dragon got his message as he stroked over the scale embedded in his flesh.

  You have it. The gentle growl running through his brain sent tingles throughout his body. Without thinking about it, Jon’s body initiated his shift; bigger, stronger and angrier than he’d ever been. Looking down at Dirk’s father, all he could see was a mess of a man who’d let his greed overcome any shred of common sense and decency he might have had. The same man who was now pointing the gun at his much larger form, frantically pulling the trigger.

  It didn’t make any difference. Yes, Jon felt the impact as the bullets hit him, but he wasn’t stopping. Any man who could condone the death of an innocent child was a waste of air. Knocking Jeremy aside, as the man foolishly tried to grab his throat, Jon snarled just once, the whiff of urine hitting the air as he tore out Dirk’s father’s throat. He had no idea how the killing would impact his relationship with his mate; he worried about the older dragon spirit and prayed he’d find peace. But nothing and nobody would stop Jon from doing what he needed to do. In his quest to keep his reputation and enhanced by his greed, Mr. Hollingsworth Senior signed his death warrant.

  “Father,” Byron rushed to the prone body, crying as his knees hit the floor. “Father, why?”

  Spying Jeremy trying to sidle towards the door, Jon sat on his haunches and watched. “Dirk will never look at you with anything but hate in his eyes again,” Jeremy promised as he opened the door.

  That was a risk I had to take. Blood oozing from his many wounds, Jon didn’t dare shift. He slowly sunk his belly onto the ground and waited for the inevitable.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dirk burst into his apartment, his hair wild, his fists bruised from his assault on the door. The stench of blood hit him immediately and a lump formed in his throat as his eyes took in the mangled body of his father, blood pooling on the stark white tiles where his head used to be.

  “He did it,” Jeremy yelled, pointing at Jon who was still in his shifted form. His dark coat looked slick in parts. Dirk had heard the gunshots and could put two and two together.

  “Who shot at my mate?” He growled, grabbing Jeremy by the throat and slamming his body into the wall.

  “Well, Uncle,” Jeremy said, trying to kick out, but he was no match for Dirk’s weight. “But he had to, to defend himself. That animal just shifted….”

  “Give it up, Jeremy,” Byron said wearily as he peeled himself off the floor. “Father shot Jon the moment he walked in the door. That’s why Jon locked Dirk out. You know it, Dirk knows it, and fuck it all, I’d have done the same thing to father if I’d known he was going to kill an innocent child.”

  “The child’s a half-breed, collateral damage. Dirk, you can’t condone your so-called mate’s killing of your own father.”

  “I am saddened it came to that,” Dirk said quietly, his anger draining away as Jon whimpered. “But if I’d known he was aware of Celine’s pregnancy and planned to do away with the child, then I’d have killed him, too. No money, nothing is worth justifying the death of an innocent. Dragons have far more honor than that.”

  “And that’s why Uncle was going to give me the company after he’d taken care of you,” Jeremy spat. “You’re weak and you’ve no respect for our traditions.”

  “You’re a fool if you ever believed that, Jeremy,” Byron said. “He used to laugh at how foolish you were. Seducing a wolf, doing all that you could to get into Father’s good graces, and all the while he was playing you as much as he was anyone else.”

  “You knew about all of this and you didn’t tell me?” Dirk stared at his brother in disbelief.

  “Not everything.” Byron’s face was pale. “I didn’t know about Celine’s baby until you told me. I didn’t know he planned to blackmail old Ahlberg until the bloke had lost all his money. Although, thinking about it now, it makes sense. Father’s had a bee in his bonnet about Ahlberg since they competed for the same mate. Mother told me she wasn’t his first choice of bond mate. I’d better call her and let her know what’s happened. Can I use the phone in your office?” Byron tilted his head down the hall and Dirk nodded.

  Checking his mate was still paying attention and hadn’t lost consciousness, Dirk turned his attention to Jeremy. “It’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch, isn’t it? You happily jumped into Merv’s bed, knowing your cousin was in love with him. You went behind my back and stole from my company; acting like a parasite, all the while playing the part of a regular family member. As if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. I don’t know how you can sleep at nights.”

  “Uncle made me do it,” Jeremy flicked a glance at the body on the floor. “He said he never wanted you to run the company; that I was better suited for it. He asked me for help; the European branch was going broke. You had so much and I knew you’d never notice. I was just trying to help my uncle keep his place among the clans.”

  Jon growled low and mean, although his head didn’t leave the floor. But Dirk didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what that meant. “Even now, you’re lying to save your own ass,” he said with disgust as he dropped Jeremy to the floor. “You have one hour to get out of my territory. You will not go back to the company; you won’t set foot on any of my properties and that includes the family homes in Europe. I am banishing you for five years. In five years, if you come before me and show remorse and prove to me you’ve changed, then I’ll take you back in the clan. Until then, my dragon will protect your dragon spirit and you will make your way in life as a human until such time as you return.”

  “You can’t. My father won’t allow it.” Jeremy gasped as
he rubbed the redness on this throat.

  “Your father will do as I say or I’ll banish your whole family. With my father dead, I now run the clan on both sides of the world. Is that what you want to do to your two sisters, your mother? Have them all banished because of your greed and need for power?”

  “No.” Jeremy struggled to his feet, tilting his chin as he looked Dirk in the eye. “I’ll go, but don’t expect me to come crawling back in five years’ time. Your father was only doing what was right and until you realize that, you’ll be a lousy clan leader.”

  “Just get out before I change my mind.” Dirk wanted a long hot shower. His skin felt dirty as though tarred with the evil streak that ran through his family. But his own needs had to wait. Crossing the floor swiftly, he sank to his knees beside his mate’s massive head. “Show me where it hurts,” he said softly, stroking between Jon’s ears.

  Jon whined but didn’t move. Running his fingers through Jon’s fur, Dirk’s hands came away covered in blood. “This is why you haven’t shifted? Too many bullets?”

  Another whimper came from the stoic dog. Dirk was shattered. He didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he was furious Jon took all the abuse meant for him, but on the other, the side his dragon supported, he was proud and worried and fuck, he needed to get his head in the game. Jon needed him and he wouldn’t let him down.

  “Here,” Byron appeared at his side with a bowl full of water, a sharp knife and a mass of clean rags. “We have to get the bullets out so he can heal.”

  Snatching up one of the rags, Dirk started dripping water over the closest wound on Jon’s shoulder.

  “Your mate has a really strong spirit,” Byron said, working on the other side.

  “You mean you finally accept he’s my true mate?”

  “I didn’t want to believe.” Dirk looked up from the blood in Jon’s fur to see tears in Byron’s eyes. “I’ve been raised my whole life to believe dragons bonded; that they never found their true mates because such a concept didn’t exist. Seeing you with Jon; the way he protected you even though it could have meant his death. I’ve been such a fool.” Byron was weeping openly now.

  “You met someone, didn’t you? Your mate?” Dirk turned his attention back to his mate, unwilling to embarrass Byron any further.

  “I’m not sure but I think so. Ten years ago, in a club down in Washington. I saw a young blond watching me. He was so beautiful. My cock hardened and my dragon awoke. I felt as though something was pulling me to him. With all the people around I couldn’t catch his scent. Thank the Fates or I’d have gone through the same hell you did.” Byron’s laugh was hollow. “I fled that club as though the hounds of hell were after me; father’s words about bonded marriages and how dragons never take another species as a mate ringing in my ears. I’ve never been back.”

  “Sounds like a trip to Washington’s in your immediate future. You can’t tell me you’ve been happy since you left him.” Shifting a claw, Dirk pulled a bullet from Jon’s fur, brushing his hand over the wounded area. Jon’s body trembled but he remained silent. So did Byron, but he kept working on Jon, pulling bullet after bullet out of Jon’s hide. As the pile of bullets grew, Dirk thanked his dragon with his whole heart for giving the other half of his soul the strength to hold on.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jon rolled over and angrily punched his pillow into submission. Well, one of many pillows. Dirk’s bed was a cocoon of softness. Custom made, it was so big Jon couldn’t touch both sides at the same time if he lay spread-eagled on the thing. Which he had done until he realized his stupid actions simply amplified the emptiness he felt. He was alone; had been since Dirk and Byron had rid his body of bullets and his mate had gently encouraged him to shift. There was no condemnation on Dirk’s face as Jon found himself picked up and taken into Dirk’s room, where he was placed on the bed, covered with a soft feather comforter and told to rest.

  That was hours before.

  Jon checked his phone that Dirk thoughtfully placed on the cabinet beside the bed. 3:05 am. Four hours and thirty-five minutes since he’d taken the older Hollingsworth’s life. Jon didn’t doubt Dirk had things to do. If what Jon had heard while still in his shifted form, Dirk was now ruler of a huge clan spanning two continents. His mate was probably busy in his office making calls, arrangements – what did someone do with a dead shifter’s body anyway? It’s not as though anyone paranormal called in the police to handle sudden deaths.

  But Jon couldn’t quell the tide of anxiety that had risen steadily since Dirk left him alone. Sure, Dirk removed all his bullets, washed him down, made sure he would live. By the time Jon shifted back to his human form, there wasn’t a mark on him. Just the bite scar on his neck and the gentle pulse of the dragon scale over his heart. A heart that ached as Jeremy’s last words to him played through his brain like a scratched record.

  Dirk will never look at you with anything but hate in his eyes again. If that were true, Jon wouldn’t survive. Already, his faithful dog was pining; wanting to go and comfort their mate in his time of grief. But Jon couldn’t do that; not when he knew he was the cause of Dirk’s distress.

  “Oh, stuff this,” he said out loud as he swung his legs off the bed. He needed food. His stomach was turning in on itself and his damn legs trembled as he stood. “Dressed. Food. Then if Dirk hasn’t come back by then, I’ll go and stay in a hotel.” He eyed his overnight bag still full from when he left San Jose. Dirk promised him closet space, but they’d been too busy. Hobbling over to his bag, Jon pulled out his favorite black pants, teaming it with a black t-shirt and pulling on his leather jacket. The apartment was warm, but Jon felt cold. He needed food before anything else.

  “You can do this,” he muttered to himself as he made his way towards the kitchen. Leaning on the wall every few paces, it seemed like forever before he spotted the dim lights above the fancy stove. The apartment was cavernous, the kitchen straight out of a magazine, but Jon didn’t care for upmarket appliances or gadgets. He didn’t have the energy to cook. A sandwich. I’ll make a sandwich, or two.

  Finding the fixings for a simple sandwich wasn’t easy when the inside of Dirk’s fridge resembled a delicatessen. Fortunately, Jon let his nose do the walking as he sniffed package after package of weirdly named meats. Finding some roast beef that smelled fresh, he pulled that and the mustard from the fridge before hunting for the bread. By the time he was sitting at the counter, three large sandwiches in front of him, Jon was panting from the exertion.

  Munching through his late night feast, Jon strained his ears for sounds of occupation. Every now and then he caught the murmuring of conversation behind closed doors but the apartment was too big for him to catch any specific words. Looking around, Jon wondered how Dirk could live in a place so sterile, so devoid of personality. Everything in the kitchen gleamed; the chrome of the appliances a stark contrast to the harsh white floor and cupboards. Even the counter was spotless as though newly installed.

  Sweeping up a few crumbs that fell from his plate, Jon made sure the counter showed no sign he’d been there. He rinsed his plate and put it away and then checked the room thoroughly. Confident he’d left the room as he found it, Jon made his way back to the bedroom to grab his bag. Picking it up, he glanced at the rumpled covers on the bed. He sighed and dropping his bag, he straightened them out, arranging the pillows and cushions just so.

  You should talk to him. Jon jumped as Dirk’s dragon’s growl vibrated through his head.

  “Some things are impossible to forgive. I think killing my mate’s father is probably one of them,” Jon whispered. “Is he…will the dragon be okay?”

  He’s a lot happier now. The dragon’s growl softened. We all felt the loss when he died, but he’ll be reborn; he’ll have his chance of happiness again and he has three strong sons to continue his legacy.

  Jon’s eyes filled and he blinked away his tears. “I was so angry. I’m so sorry. Threatening Celine’s baby as though it was nothing…I just couldn’t…
.”

  I understand and so will Dirk, but you need to talk to him. Don’t run away.

  “What if he rejects me? I can’t blame him, but I don’t know if my heart could stand it.”

  Go to him. You won’t know until you try but running away is never the answer.

  Not exactly a ringing endorsement. But letting out a long breath, Jon gave one last look at his bag and left the room, leaving the bag behind.

  /~/~/~/~/

  “I’ve explained what happened to Father’s hoard, Mother. He lost it. Get over it. You have money of your own.” Dirk tugged on his hair as he glanced at the clock. 3:45 am. He had a loving mate in his bed, probably wondering where he was and here he was in a wrangle with his mother who didn’t care about funeral arrangements or anything else. Nope. All she wanted was assurances she’d still be able to live in the manner to which she was accustomed.

  “I will still retain my monthly income from the European branch, won’t I?” His mother’s cultured tones were persistent. “Given it was your brute of a companion who took my precious bond mate’s life, I think it only fair I get a retainer from your company too.”

  Dirk had had enough. He’d been on the phone over an hour, but instead of tears he expected over the death of a man she’d been with for centuries, all he got was demands for more money. “For the last time, I don’t know when there will be dividends from the European company again. Their books are a mess. As for me paying you because my mate did us all a huge favor? Forget it. My Jon is the furthest thing from a brute you could ever hope to meet. I pulled over twenty bullets from Jon’s body. Twenty bullets, all from the gun Father was pointing at him when he died. Fuck….” Dirk felt like crying every time he thought about it. He’d never be able to look at his hallway floor without reliving every moment.