Hunted by the Dragon (Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Book 4)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Modern human culture turned out to be nothing like the Draig had predicted. Humans didn’t even know that shifters or dragons were real. The castles had transformed into clusters of towers and buildings. Humans had evolved into a society ruled by science and something called the Internet. Sean hated the Internet.

  Luckily, his natural abilities as a shifter gave him unique skills. The dragon-shift could help him to defend himself from a fatal attack—not that he should shift in front of humans—and a heightened sense of smell and sight helped him track fugitives. In such ways, he was superior to humans, a hunter tracking prey.

  Unless he was tired, apparently. How else was this criminal getting the jump on him?

  Sean stuck the key into the ignition and pretended he didn’t hear the words. He watched through his rear-view mirror as a dark figure in baggy clothes crouched along the convertible’s side. The fast hunched walk and directness in which the person moved made their intent unmistakable. Sean didn’t turn around as he slowly grabbed the door handle and waited. Talons extended from his fingertips, the dragon inside him eager to strike. He scanned the area in the rear-view mirror, determining the guy worked alone.

  The would-be robber came up too fast for Sean to get out of the car so he waited. Hard metal pressed against the back of his skull. Unfortunately for the thief, he was trying to carjack the wrong man’s vehicle at the wrong time. It was three o’clock in the morning. Completely exhausted and in need of a bed, Sean wasn’t about to let some jerk-off steal his ride home.

  Sean forced down the natural impulse to shift fully. He needed to keep the dragon hidden. Earth people thought he was a myth, and it was better if he kept it that way. He retracted his talons and instead reached for the handgun concealed between the driver’s seat and the center console.

  “I said, get out of the car!” The brusque voice grew louder than before, and the gun barrel slipped against his head.

  Sean didn’t hesitate. He whipped around to face his attacker, bumping open the door with his thigh while swiping at the gun hand. A surprised feminine cry preceded the light sound of something hitting the leather of his seat. The fact the criminal turned out to be a woman didn’t stop him. It had been a hard lesson that Earth women were not the delicate creatures his people believed them to be. The dragon-shifter females of the past generations were strong, but humans were supposed to be fragile because of their inability to shift. However, there was nothing fragile about many of the Bostonian women he’d met.

  Pointing his gun at her, he growled, “And I say get on the ground. Now.”

  She didn’t obey. He glanced into the car for her weapon, but instead found a tube of lipstick on the front seat. The unmistakable metal case gleamed. She’d tried to rob him with female face paint?

  Decorative wrought iron streetlights illuminated the brick-lined road to cast shadows over her features. The woman’s blue eyes stared at him from beneath the shade of the black sweatshirt’s hood. Her gaze went first to his gun and then back to his face. A wisp of blonde bangs fell long against her pale cheek.

  “Jules?” The air left his lungs, and he couldn’t breathe. It had been two years, and she’d been more of a brunette, but he knew her face. In fact, he’d never forgotten it. How could he? She was the reason he couldn’t go home.

  At the sound of his voice, she blinked in surprise, her eyes darting up to his. Vulnerability passed over her features, quickly hidden behind a hard mask. When she spoke, the low flat tone gave nothing away, “Sean.”

  Sean aimed his gun to the side, unable to keep the weapon drawn. The distant formality in her voice surprised him, almost as much as the hold-up. “What are you doing here? What happened to you? You came to see me when I was recovering, and I thought there was something between us but you never returned. Two years later you come to rob me of my car?”

  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know it was you or your car.” Her voice sounded the same though her Massachusetts accent seemed lighter. Jules glanced back in agitation. There was no happy reunion in her tone, no surprise or remorse. “You sound different than I remember.” She glanced over his clothes. “You look different too.”

  When he’d arrived, Sean had spoken an antiquated version of Earth English. The loose fitted pants and tunic shirt of his people made him look like some kind of cult member. Even his gestures and mannerisms set him apart as strange. “I was new to Southie.”

  Southie was what those in the densely populated area of South Boston called home, a blue-collar, Irish-Catholic neighborhood located south of Fort Point Channel and flanking Dorchester Bay. It was also where the portal from his home world had dropped him off, and where Sean now lived hidden amongst the locals. He made it his business to walk every inch of his new neighborhood to learn his surroundings. Every stone, every blade of grass, every neon light was emblazoned into his mind. He even visited where the portal had appeared, hoping his people would come back. They had not.

  Southie streets and alleys had welcomed him in the darkness as he tried to forget the life he’d left behind. He found himself restless, partly empty, always looking around, not knowing what he searched for. It wasn’t hard to disappear in Boston. The city’s population allowed him to fade into the crowds.

  “You look like a Flaherty,” she said.

  “That is what I am called. Sean Flaherty.” The light Boston Irish burr of his Earth family had thickened Sean’s accent, softening his “r” to an “h”, since they had been the ones to teach him how to blend in with the locals.

  “Put the gun down, Sean Flaherty. You won’t shoot me.” Jules was right. He wouldn’t hurt her. Every fiber of his being screamed to protect her.

  “What’s going on? If you’re in trouble, I can help you.” Sean had imagined seeing her again, but never like this. She had changed little in appearance, aside from the hard expression. She was still thin, still aggressive in stance and still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He couldn’t help but wonder what the years had done to turn her from a sweet, nervous woman coming to thank him for saving her life into this hard-faced criminal trying to jack him of his car.

  “Still trying to save the world? You’re a little out of your superhero jurisdiction.” She gave a small laugh and pointed north. “Boston’s twenty minutes that way.”

  “I’m not a superhero.” He studied her attractive face, unable to believe he was finally seeing her again. He’d hoped this moment would happen. “I have seen the action movies you speak of, but Brian says those men are not real.”

  “Your humor is a little odd, isn’t it? That’s not an insult. I don’t mind. Craziest thing, that night when you came to help me I would have sworn you were a comic book hero.” She studied his face. “But it was dark and raining, and I had suffered a blow to my head.”

  “I don’t understand. You are not crazy.”

  “I thought you were some kind of dinosaur man or dragon man. I saw you coming from the darkness to defend my honor. When Brian showed, you stepped in front of a gun to save him.” She made a small noise. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this. I don’t have time.”

  “Jules, tell me what is happening—”

  Jules struck with lightning speed, spinning to knee him in the gut. Sean buckled in surprise, dropping his gun. He suppressed the urge to shift, knowing he could subdue her within seconds if he wanted. She drew her elbow down hard on his shoulder. He fell to his knees, pain shooting through his stomach and neck. She shoved past him into the driver’s seat and had the car into reverse before he could even stand.

  “By the way, I still appreciate what you did for me in that alley. Sorry about the car.” Tires screeched as she took off.

  Disbelief filled him. Sean pushed up from the brick street only to sit on the curb. Jules was back in his life, and she’d hit him? Emotions overwhelmed him as they had the night he’d come to Earth. Her voice stirred something primal deep inside his soul. Thoughts of her clouded his mind, and he stared after
the taillights to watch the only woman he would ever love steal his car.

  “I do not know what the gods were thinking when they brought me to you, Jules Dalton.”

  Chapter 3

  Jules Dalton gasped for breath as Sean’s figure disappeared from the rear-view mirror. Her memory of him had not done him justice. Muscles rippled over his arms and beneath his white t-shirt. His shoulders were broader than she remembered and his hair shorter. Brown waves framed his eyes, reaching his temples. They had only known each other briefly, but it had been enough to burn him into her memory. He’d saved her life and had almost lost his because of it.

  There was no time to explain what was happening, and she definitely didn’t want him getting involved. She owed a great deal to the Flahertys, a family of Irish cops from Boston, but mostly she owed Sean. Duncan, the Flaherty patriarch, had told her Sean was some kind of relative—maybe a nephew?—when he’d come to her in the hospital to take her statement. She’d been a little out of it at the time, so painkillers and shock hazed the details of the conversation. Although, she did remember trying to convince Duncan and Brian that she’d seen a dinosaur-man.

  What she did know is that Sean exuded a certain protectiveness, one she had almost mistaken for love when she’d gone to thank him. He’d been on a bed in the Flaherty home, bandaged around his stomach, and still he insisted on trying to stand when she entered the room. Bed sheets twisted around his hips. Concerned eyes met hers. He was her superhero. She owed him everything. The rush of feelings she’d had for him had poured over her like the ocean, the waves crashing on her head. Luckily, Duncan had set her straight before she made a complete ass of herself. Apparently, it was common for victims of crimes to form attachments to their rescuers. It happened to cops all the time.

  Still, Sean had been a hard one to get over. Even now the rush came back, and she found herself gasping for breath. He saved her life, and she owed it to him to make it a meaningful life.

  As if stealing a car wasn’t enough of a rush, now she had to contend with memories best left buried. The combination made her emotions a jumbled mess. After all this time, he still made her heart beat faster just by looking at her with those piercing green eyes. If someone had asked her last week if she was over him, she’d have said, “yes,” without question. But seeing him tonight, his muscular physique and devilishly handsome face, she knew in reality that wasn’t the case. There had to be a reason why she hadn’t looked at another man since him. Her subconscious mind still believed she was in love with Sean.

  Stealing a souped-up muscle car wasn’t the smartest move for someone who wanted to lie low, but what it lacked in subtlety it more than made up for in speed—should the need arise. Plus, she hadn’t expected the car’s owner to be Sean, but rather a sniveling rich boy who’d cry and lay on the ground as she made a getaway. She could only hope that Sean wouldn’t report her to his family, but would instead come after the car himself. By then, she’d be long gone, but not involving the authorities would make her escape all the easier. With what she was running from, the police couldn’t protect her, not even the entire Flaherty clan of cops. There was also no guarantee that the police would want to protect her. The line between good and bad often became blurred, and she didn’t know whom to trust.

  “Stop over-thinking, Jules. No one saw you.”

  Though, in a way, she almost preferred a police chase to seeing Sean again. Jules took another deep breath, and continued to mumble to herself.

  “They don’t know you were there. They don’t know you have evidence. You’re safe. The video is safe.”

  She glanced at the rearview mirror but Sean was no longer in sight.

  “Sean’s fine. He can take care of himself.”

  She shifted gears, easing down the street.

  “You just need to play it safe and be one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand percent sure before you make a move.”

  The conversation with herself wasn’t helping ease the fear knotted in her stomach.

  Vehicles sped by her, but she kept her speed only a mile over the limit. The windshield prevented the breeze from hitting her directly, but with the top down she was able to take in the much-needed fresh air. Music blared from inside a passing truck, the hard rock melody pumping steadily over the hum of her stolen car’s engine.

  Suddenly, a ring sounded from inside her sweatshirt. Jules jolted in alarm before realizing it was her phone. She pulled it from the front pocket and flipped it open to look at the caller ID.

  “Unknown.”

  Her hand shook. She pushed the talk button and lifted the phone to her ear. She didn’t speak, only listened to the dead air. Jules slowed the car for a red light. Finally, a voice purred, “Jules Dalton. You missed your shift, princesa.”

  The smooth Spanish accent of the woman’s voice practically oozed from the phone. Juanita Velázquez was the oldest sibling of five. Jules speculated Juanita’s callousness came from a lifetime of trying to show up her bad boy brothers. Born in America, her parents had emigrated from Spain and were, for lack of a better word, crime bosses in Boston’s East Side until their death. In the years since, three of Juanita’s brothers had been killed—two to gunshots and one in a mysterious fire. Rumor had it that Juanita was behind the murders. Anyone who looked into Juanita’s eyes would believe her capable. It was as if a piece of her soul had been carved out and thrown away. Her remaining sibling, baby brother Hector, obeyed her like an abused child trying to please his mommy.

  “Family emergency.” Jules glanced nervously around to see if she was being followed.

  “Did you think you could run? Did you think we wouldn’t find out what you’ve been up to?”

  “Sorry, chica, you must have the wrong number.” Jules forced a lightness she didn’t feel. After three days with no sleep, all she wanted to do was drive to some motel in the middle of Nowhere, USA and disappear into a bed. But, to run away forever would mean they won. She wouldn’t let that happen. She would not be a victim. Never again.

  Juanita laughed, and it was easy for Jules to picture the woman’s perfectly manicured fingers tapping her flawless chin beneath full red lips. Dark and exotic, Juanita looked more like a model than a criminal. In some ways, Jules knew that is what made her so deadly. The woman would smile prettily, even as she whipped a gun from behind her back and shot down whoever was in her way.

  “Where are you going?” Juanita asked. A horn honked behind Jules, alerting her to the changed light. “Come back to Boston. Let’s have a conversation. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. All we want is the recording.”

  Jules answered by shutting her phone and tossing it on the seat next to the silver lipstick container. Juanita’s “arrangement” would be Jules’s dead body at the bottom of the Charles River.

  She stepped on the gas, zooming down the street toward the edge of town. If she didn’t sleep soon, she’d likely crash. Already she felt her senses dulling. The fact that she could be so tired despite Juanita’s phone call spoke volumes.

  She’d have to figure out somewhere to ditch the phone, but not until she picked up a burner phone, and perhaps a gun. The lipstick tube hold-ups weren’t going to get her too far. If Sean had put up a fight, her escape would have already been over. But she understood what type of man he was well enough to know if she hit him, he wouldn’t strike back.

  With limited money at her disposal, she had to plan wisely. Thinking of cash, she glanced around the car. Maybe Sean had a stash somewhere.

  “Forgive me, dinosaur-man, but I’m going to have to steal from you again.”

  Chapter 4

  “No, don’t report it stolen.” Sean glanced around the parking lot as he cut across to a side street. Drunks milled along the brick-lined strip, filling the air with bouts of robust laughter. A fight broke out further down the block. Sean ignored it, turning his back on the brawl. It reminded him of his home world when camping and drinking inevitably turned into sport.

  He knew he could trust
the oldest Flaherty brother to help. Since Sean had saved Brian’s life, Brian treated him like a member of his family. “Just make a few calls and see if you can find out where she’s going. You can track the personal GPS you gave me for your tree worship ceremony last year. It’s in my bag in the trunk.”

  “It’s called Christmas,” Brian corrected.

  “Yes, and I think it is honorable to celebrate the sacrifice nature has made to sustain human culture.”

  “I can never tell if you are messing with me, or if we did an appalling job of explaining things.” Brian gave a small laugh.

  “What you didn’t explain I learned from the DVDs Rory gave me,” Sean answered.

  “Oh, man, now I know we did a horrible job explaining things,” Brian mumbled. “Ok, listen, Earth women don’t like to be treated like that, and a secretary’s clothes doesn’t fall off when she walks into her boss’s office.”

  “Untrue,” Sean countered. “Suzette’s clothes often fall off when she is alone with Gus in his office. I can hear them before I walk into the building to retrieve my assignments.”

  “Unit Bail Bonds Gus?” Brian laughed. “Ugh, great. Some images can never be unseen. Also, your hearing is scary. You better not be listening inside my house.”

  “I’m on Elm Street. Where now?” Sean interrupted the banter.

  “Go five blocks North. You’ll come across a diner that’s open all night. Wait there and I’ll get you the information you need as soon as I can. I’m tracking your car now.” Brian cleared his throat. “Ok, seriously, you have to tell me what happened. How did sweet little Jules steal your car? What did she say? What did you say? You didn’t go all dragon and scare her, did you?”

  “I do not understand what happened. One second she was there, the next she was gone.” Sean rubbed his stomach and tried to ignore his aching neck. Sweet wasn’t a word he’d use for her at the moment. “Just find her.”