The Lost Dragon_Bad Alpha Dads
Page 5
Outside, the night air had darkened and chilled even more—although it was about to get much more toasty. He kept his grip on Wingate and they stumbled forward, across the porch and then to the back of the cabin. Way back. Out of Daphne’s hearing range. Hopefully, Tansy would keep her distracted from his fiery interrogation.
Drake let go of Wingate and shoved him several feet away. “Start talking. I want the names of every person involved.”
“And if I don’t?” Wingate rubbed his sore arm and stuck out his chin.
Damn. The kid had balls of steel.
“You won’t shoot me,” he asserted confidently. “Daphne won’t like that.”
Drake tucked his gun in his belt. “Who said anything about shooting?”
“Whatcha gonna do? You wanna fight me?” The dude held up his fists. “I’m game. Backup will be arriving any second now. And then you’ll really be sorry.”
Either Wingate was telling the truth, or he was one hell of a cocky bastard. Something’s not right. Tansy’s warning flitted through his mind. All the more reason to get cracking. Drake drew a deep breath and willed his body to metamorphize. Heat rose within him as his metabolism fired up. First came an uncomfortable burning that flushed his entire body, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of expansion and then a popping loose of tension that brought a rush of release. Black and crimson scales replaced flesh, hands and feet merged to talons, and wings sprouted from his elongated spine.
Smoke blew from his nostrils as he faced down Wingate. Little jerk wasn’t so cocky now. Horror and fear slackened the features on the man’s face and he stumbled backward.
“Their names,” Drake repeated, his voice as deep and dark as a cavern. The ground trembled with its vibration.
At the continued silence, Drake exhaled a string of fire. Its tail passed within a foot of Wingate’s head and he fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position. Sparks licked the treetops and then fell like rain around Wingate’s still form.
Perhaps he’d overdone it a wee bit. The man might be so full of terror that he couldn’t speak even if he’d wanted to. Drake shifted back to human form, his stomach dropping as if he’d plunged down a roller coaster. He strode to Wingate and kicked his thigh, turning him on his back.
“What the fuck, man?” Wingate gasped.
“Ah, so you can speak. Who else is in on this?”
“N-nobody.” Wingate crab-walked backward. “Just let me go. All right? I promise I’ll never touch Daphne again.”
His lips curled in disdain. “Not good enough. Ready for a little more fire power?”
“No, please. Please. I-I’ll tell you.”
Twerp wasn’t so cocky without his gun. Figured. The roar of a car engine grew even closer. Wingate cocked his head toward the sound. His time had run out. He needed those names before his staff arrived. “Give it up, Wingate.” He leaned over the kidnapper and blew a large cloud of smoke from his mouth.
Wingate coughed and sputtered. “Don’t hurt me, man. I’ll tell you. It’s Nathan Albright and Charles Stanley.”
Everything within him stilled. He couldn’t have been more surprised if acid had been thrown in his face. “Charlie?”
Headlight beams swathed the ebony landscape and gravel crunched beneath tires. The enemy had arrived.
Chapter Seven
“Who are you?” Daphne stared Tansy down while edging her way to the door, keeping her back to the wall.
Tansy could hardly blame the girl for the mistrust after what she’d been through today.
“A friend of your Dad’s.”
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“We were friends a long time ago. He hired me to find you. I have certain . . . skills.”
“Yeah?” Daphne cocked her head to the side, regarding her skeptically. “Like what?”
“Finding missing people,” Tansy hedged. “I’ve helped police with numerous cases over the years.”
“Are you like a detective?”
“Not at all.” Goddess forbid. Unless you categorized her as a psychic detective that operated in the metaphysical realm. A reluctant tugging curled the edges of her mouth. Most of the cops she’d worked with came to her as a last resort, and even when she helped solve a case, they attributed it to luck or something “strange” that they didn’t want to analyze too closely.
“Then what are you?”
Tansy sighed, worried her answer would frighten Daphne even more, although her sister Ruby had taken it all in stride. “I’m a witch with a certain talent for locating lost objects and people.”
Daphne flattened out even more against the wall and glanced out the door.
“I’m perfectly harmless,” she assured the girl.
Headlights strobed through the cabin. Icy pricks of dread scurried like a nest of spiders down Tansy’s back and arms.
Daphne cried out and tugged at her shorn locks. “They're here for me. We’re trapped.”
“Your dad called security for backup. It must be them. Get behind me.” Drake had placed responsibility for his daughter’s life in her hands. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him down.
As the black sedan roared its way right to the cabin door and screeched to an abrupt halt, dread intensified to fear. It’s just Drake’s people. Still, she drew the gun as a precaution.
Daphne’s gaze whipped from the gun to Tansy’s face. “What are you doing? I thought you said—”
“Can’t be too safe,” she cautioned, stepping in front of the girl.
Charles Stanley, and another man she recognized from earlier this morning, exited the sedan. The set of Charles’ face was grim, his eyes fierce. An evil miasma emanated from the man’s soul, this time Tansy was sure of it. It clawed at her throat, thick as smoke. All pretense and control had vanished from the man’s aura, stripped raw to reveal his true character.
“Charlie!” Daphne broke into a smile and skirted around Tansy.
“No. Stop!” She tried to clutch Daphne’s arm, but Daphne was too fast. Already, the girl was halfway across the porch, eager to run to a familiar face.
Go deep within and find wisdom. The years of witchcraft training—of learning to slightly manipulate time and space, of standing courageous and accessing her own power—Tansy called on everything she’d studied and practiced. Time slowed to a series of still frames, a slow drip of sensations.
One. Charles’ accomplice leveled a gun straight at Tansy’s chest, his trigger finger drawing back.
Two. A wolfish grin split Charles’ face as he opened his arms for Daphne.
Three. From the back of the cabin, an anguished rumble of noise erupted. Drake somehow knew of this latest danger. Kill or be killed. Tansy dropped to her knees and fired off a round at the gunman.
Four, five, six. A loud pop. Acrid smoke. Hot metal seared the palm of her right hand and she dropped the gun.
Charles’ accomplice fell to the ground. Underlying the smoke scent, a coppery note emerged—blood. But whose? Hers, his or both? Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Tansy scrambled to her feet, throwing herself between the startled, gawking Daphne and Charles’ outstretched arm which latched onto Daphne’s oversized T-shirt and pulled.
She wedged between him and his prize. “Bitch,” he hissed in her ear. Cloth ripped, loud as the gun pops moments earlier.
Daphne backed away from them, clutching what was left of the torn shirt. Charles grabbed Tansy’s arm, hard enough that she feared her bone would snap. From the side of the cabin, a wall of fire roared. Orange light illuminated the abandoned campground.
“What the fuck?” Charles snarled. Yet his grasp on her arm never loosened as he lunged again for Daphne.
Drake’s daughter stared at the fire, as though transfixed.
“Run, Daphne!” Tansy screamed.
To her immense relief, Daphne took off in the opposite direction of the fire. Drake would find her. Poor kid was in for the scare of her life though if Drake didn’t shift back to human form before he caug
ht up with her.
Charles jerked her toward the sedan’s open door. It had been careless of her to drop the gun. Desperately, Tansy tried to pull away and reach for the gun laying a mere four feet away. The still form of the accomplice, strewn in front of the sedan, didn’t move. Blood seeped through his polo shirt, staining the Drake Evers Enterprises logo. Had she killed the man? The question skittered in and then out of her mind. She’d worry about that particular atrocity later.
Tansy tried to twist out of Charles’ iron grasp and kicked at his shins, but he acted impervious to her assault. As a last resort, she slumped her weight against him and dug her heels in the dirt.
She barely slowed his determined effort to force her into the sedan. With a final, violent yank, Charles got in the car, dragging her body alongside him. He started the engine and hit the accelerator—the passenger door still open, his hold on her arm unshaken.
“Okay, okay, you win,” Tansy cried. “You can let go of me now.”
“Shut the door.”
She considered jumping out, but he’d picked up speed and never let go of her arm. Pain radiated from her forearm in all directions, nearly unbearable. She’d do anything to relieve that pain. Tansy managed to grab the door handle and shut it.
Abruptly, Charles released his hold and she slumped against the cold metal frame, resting her head against the window and rubbing the tender flesh of her arm. She looked back toward the cabin, but it was again veiled in darkness. At least Daphne was safe. Tansy faced her tormentor.
“What do you want with me?”
“I didn’t want you, bitch. I wanted Daphne. Would have been successful too—if you hadn’t come along. You fucking ruined everything.”
“Face it, you failed. You’ll only make things worse if you don’t let me go.”
“You must be worth something.” Disdain curled his lips as he scanned her body before again directing his attention to the road.
“I’m not important to Drake Evers. Your extortion scheme is over. Let me go now, and it may go better for you with the police.”
His hands tightened on the wheel and he pulled the sedan onto the county road. “I can use you for a negotiating tool with the cops should it become necessary. Besides, there may be money in this yet. Drake will pay to get you back. Not as much he would for his daughter, but I need to get something out of this.”
“You’re wrong. I’m worth nothing to him. He hired me to find his daughter and I did. He’s under no further obligation to me.”
“Evers is nothing if not conscientious. He’ll feel duty-bound to do the right thing by you. And I did a little checking around. Apparently, the two of you were hot and heavy years ago. He’s an arrogant bastard, but it’s possible he holds some old affection for you.”
Did he? She considered his response to her kiss. Drake’s arousal was obvious, but it was only a physical reaction. And he’d been grateful for her help, as he would be to anyone who helped find Daphne. No, there was no reason to make more of it than the facts supported. But Charles had one thing correct—Drake was an honorable man. It wouldn’t sit well with him that she’d been captured trying to help his daughter. And he for damn sure would want to exact revenge on this trusted employee who’d betrayed him in the worst possible way.
Tansy straightened in her seat and again glanced out the back-door window. Opaque blackness coated the night, as if she and Charles were the last people on earth.
So, where was Drake when she needed him?
Chapter Eight
Drake roared, releasing outrage and fear. Wingate scrambled to his feet and ran blindly into the night’s darkness. He’d deal with that bastard later. Drake drew a deep breath and released a giant fireball whose flame licked vertically toward the fleeing figure, enough to at least scorch his ass. Wingate was taken care of for the moment, he wouldn’t dare return and help his accomplices. Saving his own hide trumped a high-risk gamble for money.
For two seconds, he debated approaching the kidnappers in dragon form. Best to use his human persona, he decided. Daphne had suffered enough without subjecting her to the sight of a fire-breathing dragon. Too late, he realized he should have shared his secret with his daughters the first day he’d taken custody. After all, they were his family now.
Another mere second later, a gunfire fired.
A scream tore through the noise of an approaching car engine. His daughter. It was the most horrifying sound ever.
He raced to the front of the cabin. Don’t let her be dead. Don’t let her be dead. Don’t let . . .
More screams. As he rounded the corner, he spotted Daphne running away from a black sedan. But his relief was short-lived at the sight of Charles dragging Tansy into a car. He’d save Tansy, but first he needed to round up his daughter before she got mixed up in more trouble.
He glanced at the still body sprawled on the ground. Charles had nearly run over it in his hurry to escape. With the tip of his shoe, Drake rolled the head toward him.
Nathan Albright. Another employee, still wearing his Evers Enterprises uniform. He’d bled profusely from a shot to the chest. Good for Tansy. A shame she hadn’t had time to finish off Charles as well.
Two of the kidnappers down—one to go. Drake moved on.
“Daphne! Stop, it’s me.”
His daughter kept running, stumbling in the darkness, only to rise and run again. Poor girl must be in such a panic that she wasn’t thinking straight past the primitive instinct to flee. But her panic and youth were no match for his keen night vision and long-legged sprint.
“Daphne, wait. You’re safe now, hon.” He’d caught up to her.
She spun around at the sound of his voice, her blue eyes wide and wild—almost as if she was too terrified to recognize her own father. A ripped, man’s T-shirt hung on her skinny body at an angle, leaving one shoulder completely bare. His gaze dropped lower, down her jeans to her bare feet which were crisscrossed with bleeding cuts.
“Adam took my shoes,” she said dully. “Said he was afraid I’d run.”
“Are you okay? Did he . . . hurt you in any way?”
Tears streamed down her face and she looked at him—really looked at him as if only know recognizing who he was. “Not really. I-I thought Adam loved me. Where is he? Did you . . .”
“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking. The coward ran off. But don’t worry, you won’t ever see him again.”
She nodded and swallowed hard. “I was so stupid, Dad.”
“No, honey, no. Not stupid. Just young and too trusting.”
Drake opened his arms and she ran into his embrace, sobbing. His arms wrapped around her thin shoulder blades and skinny ribs. It seemed to him as though she were the most delicate, vulnerable child in the world. His very own child. He ran a hand through Daphne’s unevenly chopped hair, shuddering to imagine what his life would be like without his twin girls. He’d never let anyone hurt them again.
“Shh. It’s my fault, sweetie. Everything’s going to be okay now, I promise.”
“I lied to you, Dad. I’m sorry. People got hurt because of me.”
Drake placed his hands atop her small, rounded shoulders and drew back until they faced eye-level. “You listen to me. None of this is your fault. You were duped, that’s all. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I didn’t pay close enough attention.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve never told you and Ruby how much you mean to me.”
A small smile ghosted across her face. “Really, Dad?”
“Really. But before we go home, we’ve got one last thing to do.”
She cocked her head to the side, as though trying to guess his intentions.
“We’ve got to—”
“Your friend!” Daphne gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “That witch woman. Is she . . . is she dead, too?”
Fear sizzled like acid through his veins. “No, but Charlie’s got her, and we have to stop him.”
“How?” She glanced around the abandoned campground. “You got
a car around here? Aren’t you gonna call the police?”
“Police would take too long. And I have a quicker method than driving a car.” Drake ran a hand through his hair. He’d kept his secret for so long that even now it was hard to open up. What if the sight of his dragon side terrorized his own daughter? What if she completely rejected him?
“What are you going to do, Dad?”
“Look, you can hide in one of the cabins until I return with Tansy, It won’t take long.”
“No.” Daphne vehemently shook her head. “I’m going with you. What if Adam comes back and finds me? I can’t go through that again.”
“Of course.” There was no hope for it. He’d have to tell Daphne the truth. “I know this is going to sound hard to believe, but I can . . . I can fly.”
A slow smile lit her face. “I know. We think it’s pretty cool.”
Of all the answers he’d envisioned after revealing his deep, dark secret, it wasn’t this. “How could you possibly—”
“Ruby and I were out on our balcony late one night and saw this huge, black thing fly off from your bedroom balcony. We were scared and ran to your room to see if you were okay. You were gone. We were afraid something bad might have happened to you and we almost called Charlie for help.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Daphne shrugged one shoulder. “You’re so secretive. We were afraid you’d get mad if we did. So we went back to our balcony and waited to see what happened. If you weren’t home by dawn, we were going to get help.”
He gave a rueful chuckle. “Should have known I couldn’t keep that secret with two teenagers in the house.”
“We saw you fly back to the house and when we checked your room, you were back. Not hard to put that together. We’ve wanted to ask ever since, but were afraid . . . can we, are we . . . dragons too?”