by Julia Mills
Dropping to his knees, Kayne smiled brightly, bowed his head and with a touch of the brogue of their ancestors in his voice, apologized, “Please excuse my uncouth friend. It was yer beauty what knocked the wits from his ‘ead.”
Chance couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the demi-god continued to woo the wretched little gnomes. “Ye are both a vision to me eyes. Me name is Kayne and the one wit’ no manners tis Chance.” Lifting his head a bit higher while pouring even more charm into his voice, the golden dragon continued as he let go of their weapons and held out his hands. “It would fill mah heart wit’ joy if’n I could know yer names, beautiful ladies.”
Blushing like schoolgirls, the gnomes giggled, “E’re ye not the son of Lugh?”
“Aye, but tis you both who outshine the sun.”
Shaking with so much excitement that the silver bells on the fringe of their vests and the tips of their shoes jingled, the gnomes both curtsied. It was the dark-haired one who spoke first, tittering, “Me name tis Candy.”
Not willing to be outdone, the red-headed one jumped to, stepping ahead of her cohort and trilling, “And I’m Ginger.”
“Tis my honor,” Kayne nearly gushed making Chance mentally groan, “Seriously? What is up with the Prince Charming act?”
“Boy, you’ve still got a lot to learn. Gnomes, especially females, are one of the creatures you need to keep happy. Not only are they as strong as we are, but when you piss them off, and they use their magic, it’s damn near impossible to reverse. So, if you don’t want to be turned into a gecko or worse yet a slug, I suggest you slap a smile on your face and apologize for being rude.”
Once again rolling his eyes, but only because he was sure the demi-god was right, because well…he was always right, Chance begrudgingly did as he was told. Kneeling next to Kayne, the emerald dragon painted on a smile, bowed his head and acquiesced, “I am so very sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please forgive my rudeness. There’s simply no excuse for the way I acted.”
Glancing up at the gnomes through his lashes, he watched as the two creatures, smaller than any being he’d ever encountered, whispered back and forth. Waiting patiently, his shin still throbbing from where the one called Ginger had kicked him, Chance finally breathed a sigh of relief when Candy announced, “We fergive ye’. But you’ll not be talkin’ to our Belle until ye bring us a basket of hazelnuts and a quart of spiced rum.”
The words were barely out of her tiny mouth before the Ginger grabbed Candy, stepped back, and promptly slammed the door in his face. Jumping to his feet as the sound of locks clicking into place filled the alley, Chance raised his fist ready to pound the damn door down until it fell from the hinges when Kayne once again grabbed a fistful of the back of his T-shirt and tugged.
Spinning around so quickly the scenery was just a blur, Change glared as Kayne gave an exasperated sigh, “Why is it that you young’uns think everything can be handled with brute force? What ever happened to finesse, charm, good old-fashioned savoir-faire?”
Ignoring the demi-god while trying to push past his broad shoulders, Chance was shocked as Kayne’s palm landed square on his chest slamming his back hit the brick wall behind him. Shaking his head as his hand effortlessly held Chance in place, the demi-god shook his head, “Calm down and think, dumbass. Please for the love of the Ancients, use your brain.”
Glaring at Kayne, ready to call forth his dragon and blast the demi-god, Chance growled, “Get out of my way.”
“Nope,” Kayne grimaced. “Not gonna happen. Today’s the day you learn how to deal with gnomes…and how to get a handle on that temper of yours.” Moving his hand from Chance’s chest to his arm, the demi-god pulled the emerald dragon away from the door and down the alley.
Trying to dig the heels of his boots into the asphalt, Chance found himself floating an inch or two above the pavement. Attempting to fight magic with magic, the younger Guardsman was almost knocked unconscious as his own enchanted blast rebounded off Kayne’s.
“What the hell? Let me go,” Chance demanded. “This is a definite foul. Not cool using your father’s magic.”
“Oh yeah, trust me, it’s fair and no way am I putting you down until we’ve sorted a few things out,” Kayne scoffed. “I let you go back to that shop without the gifts the gnomes asked for, and I’ll have to call dad to save both our butts.” Turning the opposite way from the one they’d used to get into the alley, the demi-god continued, “Now shut up while I make our great escape. The quicker we get the hazelnuts and rum, the quicker you get to see you mate.”
“Do I have a choice?” Chance growled.
“Nope. Not even one,” Kayne chuckled.
“Then lead on, asshole.”
“That’s Mr. Asshole to you.”
Chapter Three
“What do you mean my dragon was at the back door?” Belle plopped into the overstuffed red plaid chair in her office with a huff.
“Donnae play dumb wit’ us lil girl,” Ginger and Candy snorted in unison, the knowing looks on their faces making the Christmas Fairy groan as she let her head fall back and her eyes slide shut.
“Ye cannae pull the wool over me eyes. I knows a true mate when me sees one,” Ginger chirped, her squeaky little voice overflowing with superiority. “That boy’s gots lust in the depths of his purdy green eyes. And…”
“And he were bound and determined to gets in here, Lassie,” Candy interrupted her sister with a harrumphed comment as she crossed her arms and gave an adamant single nod that made the bell atop her pointed hat jingle.
“Do my ears deceive me?” Lizzie chimed in as she entered the room. “Does our little fairy have a gentleman suitor?”
“Hims no gent’lman dat’s fer sure,” Ginger snorted. “Hims a bloody dragon, Saint’s preserve us. Imma hopin’ he’s one of ‘dem Guardsmen dragons.”
“A dragon? Oooooh, my Goddess,” Lizzie gasped.
The sound of a chair scraping across the finely polished wooden floors of the shop she’d inherited from her grandfather, Sir Taicligh Silvers or Tink for short, followed by a hand on her knee had Belle preparing for whatever absurdity she knew was about to fly from her best friend’s mouth.
“You know I’ve heard that dragons are some of the most sensual creatures in the world. My cousin’s, cousin’s, best friend’s, sister dated a dragon once and the stories she would tell nearly set our treehouse on fire.”
“Dear Goddess, save me,” Belle groaned as Lizzie went on to say, “And I know you remember me telling you that our Grand Priestess is mated to a dragon, right?”
Taking a deep breath, the Christmas Fairy attempted to zone out and ignore the chaos, but instead popped and squawked, “Ow! Damn!” as her best friend pinched the skin just above her knee and warned, “I’ll do worse than that if you keep snubbing me, sista.”
Shoving Lizzie’s hand out of the way and scowling as she rubbed her thigh, Belle grumped, “Yes, I remember, but I know you’re gonna tell me…”
“Well, I gonna tell you again.”
“Wow, color me surprised,” Belle sassed, rubbing her temples and listening as her bestie, the woman with a thousand stories, recanted the tale of the Elder Witch and her Dragon.”
“So, ya’ see, the Grand Priestess of all the Earthen Witches, Calysta, found her true mate after being kidnapped and tortured at the hands of an evil warlock and a demon known as Death Incarnate. Cray, huh?” She clapped her palms on the tops of her thighs for effect. “Maddox, that’s his name, is a big, old, grumpy dragon, but when he looks at the Priestess you can just see the love and devotion. I’ve never seen Calysta so happy.” Swatting Belle on the arm, the witch continued, “So, what the hell’s your problem? You’ve been bellyachin’ about finding a mate, pining for some dude to come sweep you off your feet and now that one’s literally knockin’ at the door, you’re sittin’ here like a bump on a log.” She added another swat. “Actin’ like somebody took your last gumdrop.”
Turning her head to stare at her
best friend, trying hard not to snap her fingers and pop out of the room, or better yet turn everyone into fruitcakes, Belle asked, “And what would you have me do?” Sitting up even straighter, she scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned forward until the tip of her nose was all the way inside Lizzie’s personal space and continued, “Maybe I should run down the street screaming, ‘Oh, Dragon Man, come out, come out, wherever you are. Whisk me away. Make me a wanton woman.’” Her anger strengthening with every word, the fairy jumped to her feet, flinging her arms open wide and ranted, “Or maybe I should trot right up to those big iron gates those goofy reptiles think will keep us all out and demand to see the dragon with the sexy green eyes.” Spinning around to face her friend, Belle went on with a loud growl, “Is that what you think I should do? Huh? Tell me, oh great and powerful Oz.”
Picking imaginary lint off her wool, plaid skirt, Lizzie sniffed, “You don’t have to be rude. I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah, ya’ ungrateful welp. I oughta take ye o’er me knee and give ya’ a beatin’,” Ginger snapped, with her fists on her hips and her cute little face scrunched up in an exaggerated frown.
“Ye’re gettin’ a bit too big fer ye’r britches, Lassie,” Candy barked. “Donnae ye thin’ we cannae still wallop ye but good, Belle Angelica Silvers. We been ye’r nannies since the day ye were born and we’ll not be stoppin’ now.”
Knowing she was fighting a losing battle and not wanting to deal with the tirade she knew all too well always followed Candy and Ginger’s warning, Belle sucked it up and knelt down in front of the foot-high dastardly duo. “I am so sorry. I have no excuse for my behavior. You both taught me better manners than I have been showing today.”
“Yes, we did. Thank ye for rememberin’,” the gnomes nodded.
“I’m tired and cranky and forgot how to act, not that it in any way excuses my action, bit I swear it will never happen again.”
Smiling from ear-to-ear, the little women she thought of as her moms, because her own was a serious pain in the butt and too busy to be bothered with her one and only offspring, ran forward, jumped up on her knees and hugged her as tight as they could. Once the lovefest was over, and Belle was sure she wouldn’t find herself strapped to her bed or worse, sleeping naked on the roof, the Christmas Fairy waited until Candy and Ginger had climbed back down to the floor before standing up and turning towards Lizzie.
Taking a step forward, Belle had just opened her mouth to issue yet another apology when the muffled tune of ‘Santa Clause Is Coming to Town’ came from the pocket of her skirt. Taking out her cell phone, she touched the screen and with her cheeriest tone, ‘cause Santa was one of her favorite people, answered, “Hey, Kris. What’s up?”
“Oh, thank the Heavens, I got a hold of you, Belle, my dear. You just won’t believe what’s happened. I’m afraid I’m gonna need your help, or there just won’t be a Christmas this year.”
“Hold on there, S.C., just tell me what you need, and between Lizzie, Ginger, Candy and I, we’ll make it happen.” Pulling the phone from her ear, Belle hit the picture of the microphone on the screen so everyone could hear and added, “You’re now on speakerphone. Everyone’s here. Go ahead.”
“Girls, I’ve really messed up this time. I forgot mine and Mrs. Claus’ wedding anniversary.” The usually jolly old elf sounded completely devastated as he went on, “And when I tried to cover my goof-up with a poinsettia and a box of her favorite white chocolate-peppermint bonbons, everything turned to an overflowing bucket of reindeer poop. She packed her bags, took the sleigh and my best elves, and flew out of sight, without even so much as a Merry Christmas.”
“Oh no,” Lizzie gasped. “Do you have any idea where she went?”
“I…”
Whatever Santa was about to say was completely drowned out as the back door flew open, a funnel cloud of snow blew in, and none other than Mrs. Claus herself appeared in the middle of the room. Dropping her bright red, patented-leather, monogrammed suitcase on the floor, the red-cheeked, white-haired wife of Kris Kringle grabbed the phone from Belle’s hand, hung up on her husband and announced, “We’ve got bigger problems than my cookie-brained husband. Someone nicked the sleigh, I lost the reindeer, and the elves are camped out at Flannigan’s Pub drinking ale and playing jacks.”
Chapter Four
“You met your mate, and you let her get away?”
His twin’s voice was not only accusatory but insanely condescending which did nothing to make Chance feel better. Nowell’s nitpicking was only accentuated by the fact that they were speaking through mind speak, dragon kin’s version of telepathic communication. When using their unique connection, Chance could not only hear his brother’s voice, but was also able to feel his emotions.
And right about now, he thinks I’m a big wuss…
Older by eleven minutes, and always reminding his brother of that fact, Chance growled, “I didn’t so much meet her as keep her from falling in the snow.” He paused before quickly adding, “Then she ran off, and do not get me started about those damned gnomes. I still have a bruise on my leg from where the red-headed one kicked me.”
“Why didn’t you just use old Dafydd’s magic and zap her back into your arms?”
At Nowell’s mention of the Dragon King with whom Chance shared his soul, the ancient one raised his head and grumbled, “Because old Dafydd was sleeping? And I would watch the use of old as you share your soul with my twin.”
“Sorry, ol…I mean, most gracious King Dafydd.”
Chance loved when the dragon he’d been paired with even before his birth put Nowell in his place, but in this instance not even that brightened the Guardsman’s mood. Only one person could do that, and she was being guarded by rabid gnomes.
All he could think about was the spark of fire in the depths of her bright blue eyes, the one he knew was ignited by their connection. Then there was the scent of gingerbread, peppermint and pine that wound around and through him like an endless satin ribbon pulling him towards her at every turn. And would always remember the way the Christmas Fairy named Belle had fit so perfectly in his arms. He wanted to keep there forever, learning all the ways to make her smile and purr.
Taking another drink of his tea, Chance nearly spit the mouthful across the kitchen as his little brother wolf whistled right before blurting out, “God Lordy man. What the hell are you doin’ sittin’ at home when you’ve got her to look forward to?” Nowell whistled again then chuckled, “And look at that…”
“Stop right there. Not another word, or I’ll be forced to kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Nowell laughed out loud. “I’m in the frozen north, butthead. Remember? Freezing my jingle bells off while you’re sitting on your tail, pining over a woman.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t remember when you do make it home,” Chance threatened. “Oh, and by the way, you remember what dad always used to say.”
“When one twin finds his mate, the other is soon to follow,” the Nichols’ brothers recited in unison.
“So, you’re not far behind, Asshat.”
“Bite your damned tongue,” Nowell scoffed. “I’ve got no time for that mess.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. But dad was never wrong.” Trying to think of anything but his fairy, Chance decided it was time to rile up his brother just a little bit more, so, he asked, “How is it up there?”
Grinning from ear-to-ear as his brother spat, “Did you really just ask me that? The snow is over my knees and the wind colder than a squirrel’s nuts in January.”
Laughing out loud and adding insult to injury, Chance sputtered, “And not the ones he keeps in his tree, ba-da-chaaa.”
“Ha-ha, asshole,” Nowell growled “Nice rim shot…not.”
Knowing he was close to pushing things way too far, Chance was just about to say sorry and sign off when a knock on his door drew his attention instead. “Later, bro,” he called to Nowell, not waiting for an answer as he severed t
heir link and yelled, “Come on in. Door’s open.”
“Do you let everyone in, or should I feel special?” Simon, a silverback gorilla shifter, who’d been part of their Clan since his rescue from an especially nasty bunch of hunters who’d been hell-bent on genetic modification and stealing the Universe-given magic of any shifter they could get their hands on, snickered.
“You can feel special if you need to, but I caught a whiff of your scent about a minute-and-a-half before you knocked. It reminded me of…”
“If the next word out of your mouth is banana, or anything containing the word banana, I swear I’ll turn and leave without telling you about the phone call I got about ten minutes ago from a certain Christmas Fairy who just happens to go by the name of Belle Silvers.”
Jumping to his feet, the emerald dragon was across the room and had a hold of the nearly seven-foot- mountain-of-a-man’s collar in the blink of an eye. “What did she want? Was she looking for me?”
Chuckling so hard that his chest jumped up and down under Chance’s fist, Simon laughed, “Hell no, she wasn’t looking for you. How would she even know we’re friends? History has never recorded a great friendship between gorillas and dragons. I mean in the seventh century A.D….”
“I don’t need a history lesson, Professor,” the Guardsman grumped, not wanting to hear another of Simon’s longwinded dissertations. It was cool that the gorillas had like five Ph.D.’s and at least that many more graduate degrees, but Chance just wanted to know about his fairy.
“Then what did she want?” He demanded, a sudden streak of jealousy making both man and dragon edgy.
Pulling the collar of his forest-green T-shirt from Chance’s hand, Simon shrugged, “She wants a super-mondo GPS installed in her car, and since I’d helped her and her friend, Lizzie with the computer set up for their shop, she figured I could help.”
