Baby for the Dragon (No Such Thing as Dragons Book 5)

by Lauren Lively

  As soon as I pulled up, I saw my aunt sitting on her front porch, lemonade in hand. It could have been fifteen years ago, it was such a familiar scene. When she saw me, she stood up and walked, slowly, over to my car.

  “Don't get up on account of me,” I said, rushing over to her.

  She looked fragile and I could see that she wasn't walking very well. I cringed as I watched her, afraid she might fall trying to get over to me.

  “It's been years since I've seen you, Rose, don't you tell me to stay put,” she said, her face lighting up. “Now, get over here.”

  She looked older – much older – than the last time I'd seen her. What hurt my heart though was knowing that the reason she looked so much older had very little to do with her actual age. It was mostly, the cancer eating away at her body.

  “Sassy as always,” I joked. “I guess not much has changed.”

  “I've gotten older and weaker, but my mind is still intact,” she said and then winked at me. “For the most part, anyway.”

  She pulled me in for a hug, and in that moment, everything was peaceful. Everything was right in the world again. Paula was like a mother to me. Had been ever since my own mom had died when I was a little girl. And hugging her was like hugging a parent, it made me feel like everything would be okay again. Even though I knew that to be a lie. But it was a lie I was willing to believe in that moment.

  “Glad to hear it, Paula,” I said. “I'm so glad to be back here.”

  “You must be tired from the trip,” she said, ushering me toward the house. “Let's get you settled in so you can rest up for a while before dinner. They say that naps do wonders for the soul.”

  I had to admit, a nap sounded absolutely delightful.

  We walked into Paula's rustic cabin and the smell of pine took me straight back to my childhood. I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet scent, remembering some of the best days of my life had been spent there in that very cabin. I'd never been unhappy there and when I was with Paula, I remember being happy. I remember feeling a lot more – alive. Things were far simpler. And she had a way of making things just make sense. Helped me to see things from a different perspective – one that usually gave me a ton of clarity. Clarity I often needed. She didn't ever coddle me. Paula always gave it to me straight. But she just knew how to do that with that spoonful of sugar that made everything go down much easier.

  Why, oh why, had it taken me so long to get myself back there?

  “Your room is the same one you used to stay in,” she said. “Decorated just the way you liked it. Though, we might need to update it a bit now that you're a grown, adult woman and all.”

  I smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. In other words, the room was decorated just how I left it – with my Jonas Brothers posters still on the wall, stuck there with scotch tape, and my favorite blanket – a thick rainbow-colored comforter with a big unicorn on it – tossed over the twin sized bed.

  “I figure we'll get you a bigger bed and more updated furnishings. Make the room a little more suitable for you,” she said. “I would have taken care of it myself, I just didn't know what you wanted.”

  “It's okay, Paula,” I said. “I don't know what I want these days either. Don't you worry about it, I'll just go and find some things that appeal to me.”

  She gave me a small smile. Paula was doing me an incredible favor by letting me stay with her to begin with. The last thing I wanted was to put her out any more than I already was. Plus, I knew she had no way to go shopping for things to update the room. Not in her condition.

  “It's perfect,” I said with a smile. “Takes me back in time, actually. Reminds me of a simpler, happier time.”

  I walked over and picked up the piggy bank on my dresser and smiled. I shook it and found that it still had a few pennies rattling around inside of it. Left there by a child who'd planned to come back to claim her prize – someday.

  “God – how long has it been?” I asked.

  “Too long,” she said with a sigh. “Come on, let's catch up. You can unpack the car later.”

  I didn't argue with her. I was tired and part of me wanted that nap, but the bigger part of me wanted to spend some time with Paula more than anything. I'd have plenty of time to sleep – I only had so much time to catch up with my aunt.

  I followed Paula out of the bedroom and into her kitchen, the rich aroma of fresh brewed coffee saturating the air – yet another familiar and fond memory. No matter what time of day or night, my aunt was always drinking coffee. She'd been the first person to let me drink the stuff. Which was why I held her partially responsible for my coffee addiction to that very day.

  She poured two cups and put one in front of me, preparing it just the way I liked it, too. A little cream, a little sugar, but mostly black. The same way Paula drank hers. I didn't even think about it until that moment, but as I stared down at my cup, looking into the dark brew, I realized how many of my habits and preferences had been shaped by the woman sitting across from me. Though, it made sense, given the fact that I'd lost my own mother so young and had kind of clung to Paula like a life preserver in the stormy sea of my life.

  “I hear you had a rough time back in the city,” she said, taking a sip from her cup. “I'm sorry to hear about your ex.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I said. “Never saw that coming.”

  “You never do,” she said. “Why do you think I've been single ever since your uncle passed?”

  “Well, Raymond was a good man,” I said, speaking of my uncle. “A very good man. Men like that are hard to find these days.”

  “You can say that again,” she said with a sigh. “Speaking of which. I know you're single now, but don't get any ideas about the local men here. Or at least, be very careful around them. Especially, the big, tall, good-looking ones? All bad. Not a single good one in the lot. Trust me on that.”

  I laughed. “Trust me, after Jason, I'm not interested in dating again,” I said. “Not for a long while at least.”

  “Good,” Paula said. “Because as tempting as it might be, these local men are nothing but trouble.”

  “Aren't they all?” I said with a laugh.

  “I'd like to think not all men are terrible,” Paula said. “I had a good one, once. Maybe you can find one too. They're definitely out there, sweetheart. You just have to open your heart and be patient.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But I'm really pessimistic about it all. I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust another man again. What Jason did to me was bad. Really, really bad, Paula. He ruined my whole life, pretty much. He destroyed my career, everything. All gone. All because I wanted to leave him.”

  Paula reached across and took my hand in her tiny, frail ones, giving me a soft smile and a gentle squeeze.

  “I heard about all that, and I never believed it for a second, Rose,” she said with absolute conviction in her voice. “You're a good woman and you were a damn good teacher. I don't care what Jason said, you would never do – what he suggested you did. Never in a million years. And anybody who knows the first thing about you knows that.”

  “Thank you, Paula,” I said with a heavy sigh, the bad memories surfacing in my mind. “I finally cleared my name, but there was no way I could go back to the district ever again. My name was dragged through the mud, parents hated me. I'm not sure I can ever teach again. Even though I was proven innocent, that kind of thing stays with you. No matter what. There are some people who will never believe me. Never believe that I'm actually innocent.”

  She patted my hand before getting up to refill her cup, wheezing a little bit as she stood up.

  “It'll all work out, Rose,” she said. “And in the meantime, I appreciate you staying here with me. God knows, I hate to ask for help, but I need it.”

  “No, thank you for having me, aunt Paula,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

  I knew she hated asking for help – and knew she did need it -- and I was more than happy to help her. She w
as the one person in my entire family who'd never abused my kindness, or who'd never taken me for granted. And for that, I was thankful. More than thankful, really.

  So, to see her in such poor shape, to see her declining, and to know she was dying, tore me up inside. I might not be able to go back in time and make up for all the years with her I'd missed, but at the very least, I could be with her now.

  And while I was there, I could give myself a fresh start. Considering everything I'd been through in the last few months, I needed that. I needed that more than I'd ever needed anything in my entire life.

  Chapter Two

  Asher

  The sheriff pushed a photo of man across the table, a look of expectation on his face.

  “Look familiar to you?” he asked.

  I didn't even look at the photo. Didn't need to. I already knew who he was.

  “Should he look familiar to me?” I asked.

  Sheriff Dean Richards stared back at me, and I could see the hate in his eyes. But I knew my eyes looked exactly the same staring back at him. We never did get along very well, not even back in school. And now that he was in a position of power, well, he thought he could lord that over me. Thought he could intimidate me. Right. Like a shiny tin badge and a gun could intimidate me. Dean was a moron. Always had been, always would be. And for some reason, he'd always had a hard on for me.

  “His name is Leonard Peters,” Dean said. “He's a long-haul trucker from Eureka, California and was last seen in Black Salmon Falls. His truck was found in town, but he's nowhere to be found.”

  “Interesting story, but I'm a little confused here,” I said, arms folded over my chest. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Sheriff Richards scowled at me from across the table. Even though we were the same age, you wouldn't have guessed it. The stress of the job had apparently done a number on him. Premature balding, a beer belly and two ex-wives who hated his very existence. Given all that, it was probably no wonder he hated me so much – I was living the life he thought he should have had. The very thought of it made me chuckle.

  “What's so funny, Asher?” he asked me.

  “Nothing,” I said, leaning forward across the table. “I was just thinking about how you were a miserable twat in high school and that not much has changed. About the only difference is that you have less hair.”

  Dean slammed his fist down on the table with a growl, doing his best to intimidate me – but it wouldn't work. It only made me laugh at him.

  “Listen, I know what you are,” he growled. “And I know what you do. I know what all of you do. I'm the law in this town, not you. Me.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about, sheriff. Was this guy a criminal or something? Did he do something wrong? Or is he just a missing person? And if so, what do you want from me? As you said, you're the law in this town.”

  “He's a rapist, actually,” Dean said. “With multiple alleged victims, up and down the coast. By all accounts, he was a bad, evil man. But that doesn't give you and your guys the right to kill him.”

  I let out a low whistle. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up there a minute, Dean. Who said anything about killing anybody?” I asked. “Are you actually accusing me and my family of being murderers? Personally, I wouldn't spend a whole lot of time or money on finding a serial rapist, but that's just me.”

  “You're not the law here, Asher. I am.”

  “Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I'm well aware of that. So, now that we have that all cleared up, are you done with your little power trip? Can I go now? Because, correct me if I'm wrong – and given that I'm not the law, I could be mistaken – but I don't believe you have anything to hold me on.”

  “No, not right now I don't. But trust me, Asher – the Feds would be really interested in hearing all about the curiously high number of people who go missing in Black Salmon Falls. It's really strange how many people go missing for such a small town, isn't it? But I know the Feds would be interested. Although, personally speaking, I'd hate to get them involved.”

  “Oh yeah? The Feds, huh?” I asked, the tone of my voice one of amusement. “And I'm sure the Feds would really give a damn about a bunch of missing drifters, rapists and child molesters.”

  I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and shook my head. As far as threats went, that one was pretty weak. He had absolutely zero evidence that tied me and my guys to any disappearances, let alone murders.

  “We are going to nail you and your guys, Asher. It's only a matter of time,” he said in a tone that was supposed to sound confident of his statement – which actually sounded like anything but confidence.

  With one last menacing glare at me, Dean took the picture of the man back and placed it in the file folder. A moment later, he stood up to walk out. But I stopped him before he hit the door.

  “I wouldn't count on it, Sheriff,” I said nonchalantly. “And you better be careful out there. As you know, the woods are pretty thick outside of town and apparently, people go missing all the damn time around here. It's dangerous.”

  Richards stopped, turned to me and sneered. “Are you threatening an officer of the law, Asher?”

  I shrugged. “Not at all, Sheriff. No reason to threaten you. No need for this to get all hostile,” I said. “I was just saying. Making an observation, that's all. But if I were you, I'd be careful about which side you're on – defending the rapists and pedophiles won't make you particularly popular around these parts.”

  ~ooo000ooo~

  “Asher!” a voice called out to me as I exited the police station.

  I knew that voice well and I cringed inwardly – even though I suppose I should have been happy to hear the voice of my betrothed.

  “Asher!” she called. “What was that all about? Are you okay?”

  I turned to face her, and she didn't look happy to see me. At least not there, at the police station. She grabbed my arm, digging her perfectly manicured nails into my skin to stop me from walking away from her.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, running a hand through my hair.

  “I heard you were called into the Sheriff's office,” she said. “And given that I'm your future wife, I thought I should find out what's going on. Does this have anything to do with that man that went missing the other day? I heard some people mentioning it, but I wasn't sure what it was all about. Was it about that guy?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” She shot me a look of death.

  “Yeah, fine, they wanted to know if I knew anything,” I said.

  “And do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I shrugged.

  “Answer me, Asher.”

  “No, I don't. Why would I?” I snapped. “Listen, I just spent the last few hours getting harassed by our wonderfully uptight, angry sheriff – I don't need to hear it from you too.”

  Mariana looked hurt, but I knew it was just an act. She wasn't nearly as sensitive as all that and me snapping at her a little wasn’t likely to hurt her feelings. No one in her position would survive if she was a weak, emotional little thing. Which she was little – petite and thin with long brown hair and bigger than average hazel eyes – but I knew better than to let her looks deceive me.

  I knew what she was deep down. I knew her better than anyone, besides her own parents perhaps. What she was, was a master at playing a role. At manipulation. About using people's underestimation of her as a weapon she could then turn around and kill them with. Mariana was a lot of things, but weak, emotional, and easily hurt were not among them.

  She grabbed hold of my arm again and tried to get me to stop, but I yanked free from her grasp.

  “Asher, please – can we go somewhere and talk?”

  I sighed and looked off into the distance. All she wanted was a conversation. I owed her at least that much – I knew I did. Not by my choice, but she was to be my wife. I needed to talk to her, to let her into my world. My thoughts. I may not have picked her, but I was going to have to
learn to accept her for who she was. But that was hard, considering who she was.

  “If you're in trouble with the law, it's going to have an impact not just on your clan, but mine as well,” she said. “Since we're supposed to be married and our clans tied together, what you do impacts me, just as what I do impacts you. And I need to know how to proceed.”

  Again, she was right. Didn't mean I trusted her or her clan, but she was right. Our clans had been bitter rivals for as long as I could remember. But technically, we were supposed to be united together with our marriage. And given that fact, deep down, I knew that I should trust her. I should probably also learn to love her – but that was something that would either come in time or it wouldn't. I couldn't control the way I felt about her, even if we were married.

  “Fine, let's talk,” I said.

  She took my hand in hers and led the way. I wasn't sure where she was taking me, but we ended up at her car – a candy apple red BMW bought for her by her daddy, of course.

  “Climb inside,” she said, looking up at me with her big, doe eyes. “We can talk in here.”

  Mariana often used her looks to get what she wanted out of life. Being beautiful and part of one of the most powerful clans in the world came with a lot of privileges. And she used that to her advantage every chance she got.

  I climbed into the passenger seat, half expecting her to sit in the driver's seat.

  Wrong.

  She climbed into the passenger seat along with me, straddling me in the car.

  “I thought we were going to talk?” I said.

  “We are,” she said, grinding her tiny little body against me. “But I thought maybe we'd screw first, talk later. You just got out of prison and all and I figured you could use a woman's touch.”

  “Dirty little mouth on you,” I growled.

  She knew I loved it when she talked that way and was a little aggressive. It was to my detriment, but she knew exactly how to drive me crazy.