Midlife Magic Dragon (Midlife Shifters Book 7)

by J. L. Wilder

“Who the hell is it?” he snarled back, his rage barely at bay.

  “I’m a representative of the Blackshroud clan. Someone would like to speak to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want speak to a goddamn person right now. Fuck off.”

  Silence fell, and for a moment, Scorn wondered if he’s successfully sent the man packing.

  “It’s about the woman you’re looking after. Maddie Cooper.”

  That got Scorn’s attention. He flew toward the door, yanking it open. On the other side was a man in a neat, dark suit, his blond hair parted, his hands clasped behind his back. He appeared to be in his twenties, though Scorn could tell by his scent he was a dragon—a low-level gamma. And that meant he was likely an assistant to a more powerful dragon.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ryder. Come with—”

  “What the fuck do you know about Maddie?” he snarled, grabbing the man by his collar and lifting him off his feet.

  But the man didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

  “Please put me down, Mr. Ryder. My employer wouldn’t be happy at all to know you’re treating me like this.”

  “And who the fuck is your employer?”

  “Chapman Spear.”

  Scorn’s eyes flashed wide for a moment. Then he set the man down, who responded by fixing his tie.

  “All I’m at liberty to say is that Ms. Cooper is fine. You don’t need to worry about her for the time being.”

  “I’ll tell you who the fuck I need to worry about. Now, if you want to keep your head attached to your fucking body, you’d better tell me more.”

  The man’s eyebrows flicked up in surprise. Then a small smile formed on his lips. “Mr. Spear told me you might be difficult. And he said that if you want to know anything, to not threaten me and instead come to his apartment. Now, would you like to come with me?”

  The rage in Scorn grew by the second, and he had to fight off the urge to smash this man’s head into the wall as if his skull might open and start spilling answers. But he was in control enough to understand that kind of behavior wouldn’t do him any favors.

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “And Mr. Spear said you’d see reason. Come.”

  The man turned and headed down the hallway. Minutes later, Scorn was in the extended back cab of a sleek, black luxury automobile, the man driving scorn through the city.

  “There’s alcohol back there if you’re so inclined. But Mr. Spear asked me to ask you not to overindulge.”

  “Whatever.”

  Scorn opened the small fridge and took out a beer—some fancy microbrew he’d never heard of. He cracked it open and took a swig, watching out the window as they approached the towers of one of the ritzier parts of the city.

  The man pulled the car in front of a luxury tower and parked.

  “Please,” he said. “Your escort will be waiting for you in the lobby.”

  “Escort? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell do I need a damn escort for?”

  The man said nothing in response, and Scorn sighed, knowing gammas followed their orders, and that was all—not much of a chance he’d get answers from him.

  The driver stepped out and opened the door, Scorn stepping out and taking his beer with him. He entered the lobby of the building, the place striking him like some kind of futuristic cathedral. And sure enough, a pair of powerful-looking men in suits, gorillas, from the scent of them, were there to greet him.

  Scorn tossed back the rest of his beer, one of the guards extending his hand as Scorn approached to take the bottle.

  “What, you guys double as recycling machines?” he asked.

  “Come with us, please. Mr. Spear is eager to see you.”

  And Scorn was eager—eager for answers. He hated the whole “hired goon” treatment but figured whatever would get him closer to Maddie was a necessary evil. The two guards led him to a private elevator, one of them taking out a keycard that opened it. They stepped inside and were soon on their way up, the back of the elevator turning to glass and allowing a sweeping view of the city as they rose.

  The doors opened with a chime, revealing a stunning penthouse apartment, one so big it made Scorn’s cabin in the woods feel like a closet. The walls were marble, the floor the same, and the tall windows looked out over the city. And in front of them stood Chapman Spear himself.

  He glanced over his shoulder, meeting eyes with Scorn for a moment.

  “There’s the man himself. Come in.”

  Chapman Spear was one of the oldest, most powerful dragons in the Blackshroud clan, and the CEO of New Haven Logging, which he’d turned over the course of several decades from a local construction supply company to an international resource distribution network—one worth billions.

  He was tall and lean, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, his Oxfords polished so well, Scorn could see their shine from across the apartment. His hair was silver, his face trim and handsome, and he carried himself with the poise and power that only a billionaire could have.

  Scorn stepped into the apartment, his footsteps echoing through the vast space.

  “Well, if it isn’t the forest hermit himself,” said Chapman. “I hear you’ve got a taste for booze now. Help yourself to whatever you want. But keep your head clear enough to talk.”

  Scorn caught sight of the bar and marched over to it, grabbing the most expensive scotch he spotted. Then he popped the bottle open and dropped onto the couch.

  “Where’s Maddie?” he asked, his voice a growl. “Enough with the drivers and the guards and the bullshit. Tell me where she is—now.”

  Chapman turned and chuckled. “You’ve always been an alpha, Scorn. Even when Red stripped you of your title, cast you off into the woods. You’ve always been the sort of man who doesn’t give a damn who he’s talking to. Maybe this time you should.”

  “That was a lot of words,” said Scorn. “And not a single one of them answered my question. Now, are you going to tell me where she is, or am I going to have to tear through this city until I find her?”

  Chapman winced and held up his hand.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’d like to do that. But let’s not totally give in to our worst instincts, all right.”

  “I swear, if you dick me around about this...”

  “She’s safe. We have our people watching her—both of you—since you arrived back in Seattle. Too much at stake to risk you running around unsupervised.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me. You’ve been spying on me for the last day?” There was anger in Scorn’s voice—the rage returning.

  “Easy—just keeping tabs. After all, you did use the New Haven account to pay for your room. A strange call, by the way. If you’re going to use the clan’s money, you might as well get a place less disgusting than that place.”

  “I wanted to keep a low profile.”

  “I get it. But you should’ve come to us first.”

  “And why the hell would I do that? You’re part of the Blackshroud clan, and I’m an outcast.”

  “You’re only an outcast because that barbarian Red is the alpha.”

  “Oh, now you’re not a fan of Red? Since when?”

  “Since he turned what was once one of the most profitable businesses in Washington into his own personal piggy bank. Do you have any idea how cut off from the clan we are out here?”

  He waved his hand through the air, letting out a frustrated sigh.

  “But that’s not what I wanted to bring you here to discuss.”

  “And what is?”

  “Her, of course. The woman.”

  He tensed at the mere mention of Maddie.

  “What do you want with her?”

  “We need her.”

  “For what?”

  Chapman ambled over to Scorn, the slow, confident swagger of a wealthy man. When he reached the back of the couch, he leaned forward and rested his hands on the back.

  “She’s a witch, Scorn. Or had you not noticed that yet?”

  Scorn said no
thing, putting it all together. It sounded insane, but it was the only explanation for her powers.

  “But witches haven’t lived in Washington for years, over a century. Hell, I don’t even know where they live these days.”

  “Witches...changed over the years. After centuries of war with shifters, many covens died out. The once that remained moved to the cities, taking roles in human society and consolidating their power, finding new members when their powers would arise.”

  “And Maddie’s one of them,” said Scorn. “Little bit of a late bloomer, huh?”

  Chapman nodded. “It can happen. And late bloomers tend to have incredible powers.”

  Scorn sat back, processing it all.

  “So, where does that leave us? You want me to give Maddie over to Red or something? Fuck that.”

  Chapman nodded. “‘Fuck that’ is right.” He stepped around the couch and took a seat. “Scorn, you’ve had your problems. But you were easily the most capable alpha this pack has had in decades. But your feral side...it’s too powerful, too unpredictable. After what happened, it’s hard to trust you with pack leadership.”

  Scorn clenched his jaw. “Red knew it, knew that I didn’t have control of my powers. And he was there to take advantage when I fucked up.”

  “That’s right. Reds canny, cunning. He’s not the right alpha for the job, but he’s not one to underestimate either.”

  “And what does this have to do with Maddie?”

  “We can’t let him find her. If he gets a hold of a witch with developing powers, he’ll try to use her as a weapon. So, this is where you come in. You’re going to do what you’ve been doing, keep an eye on her, keep her close—make sure that no harm comes to her.”

  He raised his finger, and Scorn could sense that he was getting to a major point.

  “But don’t you touch her, Scorn. Nothing can happen between the two of you.”

  “What? What the fuck does my sex life have to do with any of this?”

  “Dragons and witches, it’s too dangerous. We need to keep Maddie under our thumb for the time being and make sure that Red or any other alpha who wants to use her as a weapon or bargaining chip doesn’t have her. You want to come back into the fold, to be a part of the Blackshroud clan again? Then this is how you’re going to do it.”

  He rose.

  “But right now, she’s missing. And your job is to find her. Whatever it takes, she can’t be allowed to leave the city. Do whatever you need to track her down and keep her safe. The future of the clan rests on that woman and her power. Understand?”

  Scorn nodded, trying to wrap his head around everything happening.

  “Now, you’ve got a witch to track down, and a city to comb through. Get to it, Scorn.”

  Scorn rose, not wanting to waste another second.

  Once back in the elevator, Seattle spread out in front of him, he focused his mind. He was ready.

  And he could sense that more than he knew was on the line.

  CHAPTER 11

  MADDIE

  Maddie rode with Katie, the city flying by as Katie drove.

  “I don’t understand,” said Katie. “Why can’t I just go back to my normal life? You’re still living like usual.”

  “Because,” said Katie, her eyes on the road. “I’ve had decades to learn how to control my powers. I’m going to guess that when your powers first emerged, it was a total accident. Right?”

  “...Yeah.”

  “And they were probably in some self-defense moment when the pressure was high and you were in total fight-or-flight mode.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And that’s precisely what we don’t want. Being a witch is all about staying hidden. We have power, sure, but it’s in the human world, on their terms—or at least, we like them to think that way.”

  She turned, taking them out of the downtown area.

  “We’re going to the coven now,” she said. “You’ll get all the answers you’re looking for there.”

  “But how do I know I can trust this coven?” she asked. “I’m supposed to go to some house full of witches and just assume that they want what’s best for me?”

  “That’s exactly right,” said Katie. “I know it feels like your life isn’t in your control anymore. That’s exactly how I felt when I was sixteen and I learned about all of this. We’re both the independent type, right? Don’t like it when anyone tells us what to do. And that’s what’s awesome about this—being a witch means you’re above everyone else. I’m insanely rich because I know how to control my powers. You can do the same. But first, you have to find out where you come from.”

  Maddie still wasn’t convinced. But she was ready to meet the other witches of her coven.

  They arrived at a stately building downtown. One of gray stone and columns and intricate carvings along the borders of the tall windows. Maddie spotted a plaque next to the front doors.

  “Goodwin Historical Society,” said Maddie, reading it.

  “Right. As far as anyone else knows, this is some lame historical club for bored women. The perfect cover. Come on.”

  Katie parked around back, several other luxury cars already there. Then she led Maddie to a back door, not a single lock to be found.

  “Pretty light security for a group of women who don’t want to be found out.”

  Katie chuckled. “You think there’s no security. Go ahead—try to open the door.”

  Apprehensively, Maddie stepped up to the door, which was made of gorgeous, hand-carved wood. It reminded her more of an antique than a way to keep people out. She prepared to wrap her fingers around the gold handle, but the moment her skin contacted it, a horrible, terrible fear like nothing she’d ever known took hold of her. She imagined opening the door, a horde of dragons on the other side ready to rip her to shreds. And among the dragons was Scorn, tied and bound and in the process of being tortured.

  Maddie yanked her hand away, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Kate, we can’t go in there.”

  “Why?” asked Katie with a smile. “You have some kind of premonition?”

  Maddie regarded her with a confused expression. “What? How did you know?”

  “Let me guess—you had a feeling that the most horrible thing you could imagine was on the other side of the door, just waiting for you.”

  “How did you know? Did you see it too?”

  She shook her head. “That’s the security system.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “There’s a spell on every entry point—a paranoia enchantment. The way it works is that whoever tries to come in without permission will get instilled with fear, convinced that the most horrible thing ever is in there. And what that might be is different for everyone. If you’re some gang member, you’ll imagine the cops on the other side. Or if you’re some scumbag cheating husband, it’ll be your wife and whoever you’re hooking up with. Who needs alarms or guns or whatever when you can use people’s minds against them?”

  “Clever,” said Maddie.

  “That’s what being a witch is all about. Sure, we can launch people across the room with a wave of our hands or blow up people’s heads, but that’s barbarian shit—that’s what shifters do. We’re subtler, more refined. Now, come on.”

  She placed her hand on the door, closing her eyes and mouthing words that Maddie couldn’t quite make out. Then she pulled the door open, holding it for Maddie.

  They both stepped inside, entering a vast hall that looked like something out of a museum. The walls were lined with portraits of women from various time periods, vases and other antiques placed on ornate furniture along the sides of the halls.

  “This place is gorgeous,” said Maddie. “I had no idea there was anywhere like this in the city.”

  “Wait until you see the main room. It’ll blow your mind.”

  Katie led Maddie up a flight of marble stairs, one that took them to the third floor.

  “Now,” she said, the two of them heading dow
n another hallway, passing several offices. “You need to keep quiet in this area.”

  “Why? Spell-practicing or something?”

  Katie chuckled. “Nope—this is the work floor. Tons of witches in the city use this building as their office. And we’ve got some insanely high-ranking women here—members of government, hedge-fund managers, CEOs—there’s more money coming in and out of this building that most banks.”

  As they passed the offices, Maddie glanced into the door windows and spotted women in expensive, professional clothes making phone calls and working at their computers.

  “They don’t look like witches,” said Maddie.

  “What, you expect them to be wearing pointy hats with warts on their noses?”

  “Well, maybe not. But that’s what all the stories had them as, right?”

  “And who do you think those stories were written by? People who hate us—mainly men jealous of our power. Pretty petty if you ask me, but whatever. No, witches are urbane, sophisticated. We don’t live in shacks in the woods enticing kids with candy or whatever. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  They approached a set of double doors, and Katie pushed them open. Maddie gasped at what she saw as the two of them approached the balcony.

  The main room of the Goodwin Historical Society was massive, three stories tall, with bookshelves as far as the eye could see. Dozens of women were on the floors, all reading or working or having quiet meetings with one another. And all were polished and well dressed and well put together.

  “This is amazing,” said Maddie, looking around.

  “You’re going to love it. Witches nowadays are all about the entrepreneurial spirit. After all, when half the people in power want to burn you at the stake, it tends to make you a little cynical about getting too involved with big companies and the government.”

  Maddie watched the women work in awe, amazed that such a collection of women would be in the city right under her nose.

  “You want to stay in publishing? Then this is the place to do it. You can make some serious connections here. And the best part is that we’ve all got one another’s backs. When you’re in a coven, you’re in it until the day you die—and that won’t be for a long, long time.”