Her Hidden Dragon

by Suzanne Roslyn

  “Whoa there boy, you’ll empty the fridge and I’ll have Emily after me again for going to the market.” Bogdan flipped back his dirty blond hair. Not as dark or nearly as sexy as Ashlyn Sullivan. He’d almost pushed the voluminous dragoness from his mind for a moment. His stomach grumbled in protest, he started to make himself a triple decker sandwich. “Naomi is still with Garth?”

  Naomi and Garth had come to stay at Giresun Manor to help oversee the island and watch over the baby that now hatched and was being held in Emily’s arms. Garth had been injured in a fight with one of their own, Olaus, an elder dragon of the manor.

  “She’s dead, man.”

  Sigurd almost dropped the mustard. “Dead? What happened? I’m gone a few days and all hell breaks loose?”

  Bogdan leaned back against the kitchen counter. “She attacked Emily and tried to take little Aurelia.”

  “But for Blake to kill her?” Sigurd didn’t feel so famished anymore.

  “Nah, dude. Garth landed the blow. Now we’re not so sure Olaus is to blame for the egg snatching thing.”

  “That’s rough.” Sigurd didn’t wish harm to Naomi. She hadn’t been bad to him. Neither had she been the cozy, friendly sort of housekeeper, but she’d been Garth’s mate and one of the dragon bloods. He looked down at the half-made tier of his sandwich.

  “What’s rough is hearing little Amelia squall at night. If I didn’t need to stay here to help secure this place, I’d run off to Rainsburg with the fury, Jacques and hang for a bit.”

  “He’s right enough there. This Margaret is a piece of work. Got her mitts into a bit of everything. I’m headed back to the hatchery to keep an eye out while Emily’s father has a visit. Perhaps you can bring him back when he’s ready, then?”

  Bogdan stroked the bit of dark fuzz growing on his chin. “Aye. Are there dragon eggs there, too, we need to protect?”

  “There’s a whole lot of them, more wild bird variety than dragon that I saw.”

  “Unless the Moldvan bitch has gotten her hands on them already.”

  “Not if I’ve anything to do about it. Dr. Kovak left his other daughter there, but even so, I plan on going back to ensure the hatchery stays secure in his absence.”

  “Ah.” Bogdan pushed off from the counter. “You’re after Emily’s sister?”

  “She’s not like other girls,” Sigurd said.

  “Not fawning over you, is she?” Bogdan wiggled his brows.

  “She’s not human.”

  Bogdan’s eye brows rose.

  “She’s one of us. Only she’s hot and she doesn’t know it.” Sigurd took a knife and cut his sandwich in half.

  “And you think she’s the one?”

  “Obvious, is it?”

  “Aye. You’ve the look of a dragon who has found his mate. First Blake, and Edmund’s took to hiding with a lass, and now you. Will I be the only bloody bachelor left among us?”

  “You can always go hang with our new furry friend at the flat in Rainsburg.” Sigurd picked up a piece of his sandwich and Bogdan snatched the other half.

  “Hey!”

  “Appetizer. I suspect you’ll need a full course to refuel before your flight back.” Bogdan bit down and chewed. A moment later he made a face. “What did you put in this?”

  “A shake or two of roasted hot pepper.” Sigurd tried not to laugh. “Can’t take the heat?”

  “It isn’t me I’m worried about. Be careful you don’t get yourself burnt.” Bogdan took another bite of the sandwich, turned and left Sigurd in the kitchen.

  Thinking of heading back to the redhead at the hatchery suddenly kicked started his appetite once again.

  Chapter Four

  With her foster father gone, Ashlyn took it upon herself to fill in where he’d left off. Determined to show him she could do more than feed the birds and give tours of the aviary, she had waited for this opportunity for over a decade.

  She sat at his desk, a neat surface with a dusty computer and an even more ancient looking rotary phone. She dusted them both off, flipped through the files on the corner of the desk, and sighed. Dr. Kovak left instructions for her and Quintin to take over his charting and for the rotation of the eggs. She turned on the computer, heard its ancient buzz of booting up and found it did her no good. Her foster father had placed a password on his files.

  She tried all different combinations of names and dates, about to give up when her sleeve caught on the edge of a folder pushed under a desktop calendar. Pulling out the folder, she squinted at the label with her name on it. A rim of dark yellow tinted the edges where one corner had been exposed to the light for a long time. She opened the file, stared at the contents, and her stomach twisted.

  She read and re-read the pages. No! This couldn’t be! She glared at the photographs of her parents and her as a baby. And at the government issued certificate that couldn’t be correct. There under the classification it stated DRAGON breed REGAL COPPER.

  Ha. Ha. Her foster father had to know she would snoop and placed it there as a joke. Only her heart pounded. She almost crumpled it. Would have, except for the official Turkish seal. She ran her hand over the embossment. She’d seen this seal a dozen times before. She couldn't’ deny its authenticity.

  Someone had made a mistake. Or a very cruel joke.

  The Sullivan’s couldn’t have been another set of foster parents. They couldn’t. They were her parents. That was a human baby in the arms of human parents, but in the pages to follow she scanned the analysis of the egg once the dragon species hatched. She shook her head, tried to clear the terrible thought. She was Ashlyn Candance Sullivan. Wasn’t she? Could she be?

  No. Yes…

  “Hey, baby. Miss me?”

  Ashlyn almost jumped out of her chair at the sound of Sigurd’s voice. Flustered she slapped the file closed. She kept her hand on it, looked at him, and blinked. He leaned against the office door jam. “You all right, baby?”

  Creases formed on his forehead and his lips turned down. He took two long strides and came around the desk beside her. “Geez. I know I have an effect on women, but they don’t usually go all ghostly on me.”

  Ashlyn took a deep breath. Suddenly feeling light headed, she closed her eyes and leaned over the desk. “This is all a bad dream.”

  She didn’t dare open her eyes. She never expected the lark to return. She wanted him to go away. She would have to make the file disappear. None of this ever happened. She didn’t see a thing. She wouldn’t get all worked up over it. There was a logical explanation. She was, after all, the daughter of a bird scientist.

  “That bad of day, huh?” Sigurd pushed her hair away from her face. “Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes, looked at him. “I’m a dragon.” She didn’t know why, it came out without warning.

  “Did you think you were a bird?” Sigurd asked, then chuckled.

  She straightened, she should have known better than to make a lark of a man-dragon like him understand. “I am a dragon,” she said, slowly, waiting for it to sink in for him.

  “So am I.” He shrugged. “You show me your true colors, baby, I’ll show you mine.” He wiggled his brows at her.

  She pressed her hand against his chest to shove him away, but his chest felt solid to her touch. Under the thin layer of his t-shirt she pressed her fingertips into his pecs. “I’ve already seen the colors of the likes of you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” He pulled her up against him, clasped a hand over her hip to hold her close. He leaned down, his cheek pressed against hers. “I’m part Winchester and part Blue, but I imagine you’ll turn more red than yellow when I mount you.” He blew cool breath against her ear.

  She gasped, tried to pull back, but he held her there. Trailing light kisses down her exposed neck, he licked her, and she shivered with anticipation. “You’re crazy if you think I’d ever fall into bed with the likes of you.”

  He pulled back, those blue-gray eyes of his narrowed. Then as if the moment passed in the bl
ink of an eye, he had that silly grin of his on his face again. “I almost forgot, this is a hatchery, is it? Then it will be a nest to your liking then?”

  “No. No. And no!” Ashlyn shoved him away. He didn’t budge. She scoped up the file and put some distance between them, fast. She’s smelled the change in him. The heady waft of testosterone, sweat, and his dragon. She’d always been able to identify dragons before her sister or foster family recognized them.

  She glanced down at the file. Had she always been able to tell what they were because she was one herself? Absurd. This is all crazy.

  “No? No bed? No nest? What is the third ‘no’ for if you don’t mind me asking?” He crossed his arms and stared at her. She risked a glance at him. She didn’t like the spark his tongue caused to flare inside her.

  Dragons are dangerous. She tilted her chin up. Held the file against her chest. “No to all of this. To you.”

  “Playing hard to get, are you? Fine. I like to play, and when I win you’ll become my mate.” He challenged her. She saw him undressing her with his eyes. More, he stripped her down to her soul and a shiver ran through her. It both thrilled her and terrified her.

  She wouldn’t become like one of them. She despised dragons. But how could something so dangerous look so… “I have to go. Some of us actually have a real purpose around here.”

  She rushed out of Dr. Kovak’s office. Sigurd didn’t stop her. Didn’t say a world. He crossed his arms and watched her go.

  Chapter Five

  What was the matter with him? He’d moved too forward, too fast.

  And she’d turned him down.

  She might not have taken him seriously. She had that look in her eyes. He set out to meander back the way he’d come. A song in his head, he whistled the tune. He would come about her way soon enough.

  When Quintin came down the hall, Sigurd’s fingers paused from their involuntary twitch. He had a habit of strumming an invisible guitar to that tune he heard in his head. It would make a great chorus for Lure’s next big hit.

  Thanks to all this business of dragon egg smugglers and rogue dragon keepers, he didn’t think their merry band would have the last gig to say goodbye to their fans. It would have been their finest encore, but alas, duties of protecting their secret and ensuring their bloodline continue became a priority.

  “There you are.” Quintin held out a security badge toward him. “This will give you access to the entire facility, including the haven where the dragons’ eggs and young-lings are kept.”

  “Is that right? You have fiú running about?”

  “Not currently. A few eggs, but none due to hatch soon. You can use the haven as you wish for shifting. It stretches into the mountains and I can show you the outdoor enclosure we use for the young when they start to test their wings.” Quintin pulled his hands behind his back as he stood in front of Sigurd.

  “I get the aviary is a cover up for raising dragons, yes?”

  “Pretty much, but we no longer keep the young as long as we once did. Many of them are transported to new locations soon after they are able to hold their human form.”

  Sigurd tapped the key card in his hand. “Transported? To families you mean?”

  Quintin shrugged. “Most times. The lesser sought out breeds go to families and the others usually already arrive with contracts on them.”

  Sigurd’s blood chilled. “Contracts? I didn’t take Dr. Kovak for one to get involved with dragon trafficking.”

  “He doesn’t. Leaves a bad taste in his mouth if you know what I mean. However, in order to run this facility, the government doesn’t give him a choice.”

  “And you’re telling me this… because….”

  Quintin resumed walking past Sigurd and paused only to allow Sigurd to fall in step beside him. “I was left instructions by Dr. Kovak to give you full access and brief you on the facility history.”

  “I see. Does that also include why his daughter didn’t know she was a full-blooded dragon until today?”

  Quintin’s expression didn’t falter, as Sigurd suspected the man knew about Ashlyn’s true identity. Sigurd told him of Ashlyn’s reaction, he left out the bedding part, of course, but Quintin lifted his eyebrows, and angled his head. His eyes sharpened their focus in a canny sort of way. “Well, that’s an interesting sort of development, isn’t it then?”

  “It upset her.”

  “As does Dr. Kovak most days of the week. She needed to know. Now, more than ever. A gift from the man who cares and raises her as one of his own. It’ll protect her and send out a message, for sure.”

  “A warning?”

  Quintin grinned. “She’ll take it for one and get riled at his challenge.”

  “Moldvan.” Sigurd tried to contain his growl as anger flared his dragon at the thought of her.

  “She’ll be coming, mark my words. Best Dr. Kovak isn’t here. Although she knows better than to lay hands on him. I bet it bugs her having Emily out of reach. And this… this is just the next of it.”

  “But if Ashlyn uses the dragon inside her—”

  “She won’t.”

  “And you’re sure?” Because he wasn’t so sure himself.

  “She looks at Margaret as a savior of sorts. Saved her and brought her here after her parents died.” Quintin led him back through the corridor of the hatchery.

  “And you know all this because?”

  Quintin laughed. “You’re not the only one here protecting things.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I’ve been assigned here to ensure the security of my country’s investments of this project. Dr. Kovak is aware, and as such, I act as his assistant and I oversee the haven.”

  Quintin unzipped his overhauls and started to pull his arms out of the sleeves. The other man had arms like tanks, built for battle, not pushing a pencil. Sigurd rubbed the scruff on his chin. He could get along with this fellow. Surely another to guard this place and hold off the forecasted trouble would come in handy. He’d have to send a message to Bogdan when he got to a place where his blasted cell had service here in the foot of the Harghita mountains.

  As Quintin stepped out of his overhauls, it didn’t take Sigurd long to put two and two together. “The dragons. Contracts. It’s all a government conspiracy.”

  Quintin gave him a hard stare, shook his head, and said, “The Dragon-kind are this country’s biggest asset. We protect what is ours.”

  “And the others, like Ashlyn?”

  “Adopted to the highest bidder or placed within the Keepers.”

  This is what came of their punishment. It had turned on the dragons. Sure, humans paid the debt of protecting and ensuring their bloodline, but now the dragons, like the generations of the dragon riders, paid a price with their fiú.

  Lost in thought, Quintin gave him an arm jab. “It’s been a long day. Most of us head to the pub after a day like this, are you coming?”

  They walked around the building, making sure the lights turned off, the bird habitats locked and secured, and the alarms set.

  He followed Quintin down the dirt path into the village. Surprised to find a community so close surrounding the hatchery. He smelled the moisture in the air from the mountains. It weighed heavy on his lungs.

  As the sun slipped below the mountains, they passed quaint little shops and pubs and restaurants, a little hotel, flowers in pots and window boxes along houses. A bit of rubble met them on the way from a ruined abbey, and although the shops were closed, the pubs all remained open. A scattering of people strolled along the grooved paths they used for sidewalks. He blinked, his dragon’s eye turning his pupils to slits and, he tried to hide the involuntary reaction. It happened, only, when he passed another dragon.

  “This place is more than what meets the eye, huh?” Quintin ribbed him. “Come, I hear the Three Cranes has a new brew on tap this eve.”

  Some patrons hailed Quintin the minute he stepped in the door. He called out greetings, sent out a wave, and steered Sigurd in the direc
tion of the lovely redhead sitting at the bar.

  She didn’t bother to turn or look back at them.

  People claimed stools in the hub of the bar or sat at tables already into a meal. Their voices hummed over the clink of glass mugs, and yeasty scents of beer pouring from the tap filled the muggy atmosphere. None of it he noticed.

  Just her.

  His brazen dragoness, and his dragon stirred inside with wanting her.

  Chapter Six

  “Nothing like a peat fire on an evening and a fine man to go with it. And here, we have one a walking in. It doesn’t get no better than this for a Wednesday eve, does it not?” Minna leaned across the bar toward Ashlyn. She had a shock of white hair curled around a petite face and sent Ashlyn a quick flash of one blue and one green eye.

  “And how many a times has Quintin come and left alone without either us?” Ashlyn stared down at her untouched pint. Tonight’s special brew wafted with prickly pear and yeasty bitter birch. She’d drink it anyway, as she intended to come here and drink until her mind would forget of dragons and men, and especially the one who’d walked in beside Quintin.

  “Not Quint, but look, would you? Do you see who he brought with him?”

  “No one worth looking at, I assure you.”

  “Is that a fact? Not one to listen to heavy metal music then?”

  “I am.”

  “Then you’ll want an autograph as I do. Think he’d sign me boob?” Minna pulled down the low-cut collar of her blouse to expose a rounded bit of flesh. Ashlyn put her hand up alongside her face to shield her eyes. “Put it away.”

  Minna giggled, then she straightened and said, “Welcome.”

  “Good evening to you, Minna. This is Sigurd Eltvik, he’s come to help at the hatchery for a bit. A guest of Dr. Kovak.”

  Minna slapped her hand over her chest. “Oh me. Oh my. It is you!” She grabbed Ashlyn’s arm, shook it so hard, Ashlyn bumped her pint and it sloshed over her hand.

  “Why yes, it is I.” Sigurd stepped up behind Ashlyn. “Do you know me?”