Chestnuts Roasting Over Dragonfire: A Shifting Destinies Holiday Novella

by Cecilia Lane

  Oh-ho-ho, well that was a kink. Bearden had a teeny, tiny beef with the fae population on account of one crazy motherfluffer throwing the town’s existence into the worldwide spotlight. Izzy never put much stock in a continued grudge. If a human’s dollar was a welcome currency, surely any problems caused by the fae would eventually be set aside in the name of business.

  Dragons, however, had a little more of a feud. Not much could take down a dragon. Other dragons, sure. Getting a killing blow before one unfurled their wings would do the trick, but once the scales and fire came out to play? Not to fae, though. Their magic was capable of downing the flying lizards.

  Izzy would love to see an example. That very moment, in fact, if he didn’t learn some dang manners.

  “One, rude. Do you go sniffing out everyone and announcing their deepest secrets?” Gina wrinkled her nose. “Two, Great-grandma Georgette was only half, which makes me like, nothing. There’s no working the elements here, mister. I can’t even light a candle, so take your prejudices elsewhere, thank you very much.”

  Muriel’s eyes bugged out a little more with her every word. “Gina,” she said in a choked voice, “did you get into the booking system again?”

  Gina swung her attention back to Muriel and had the good sense to look sheepishly at her feet. “I… well… you see—”

  “I told you last year when this happened! No more bookings without my help!”

  Gina twisted her hands together. “I know,” she whined, “but you were so busy, and every line just kept ringing. Plus, that online system is still mixing up the inventory, so I thought I’d help with just a few calls?”

  “Enough,” Zane growled. “Just give me a different room.”

  “I’m afraid we’re completely booked, Mr. Darkwood,” Muriel said in a soothing voice.

  “Then the number of the closest place that’s available.”

  Izzy arched an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. “Boy, you really don’t have any idea about this place, do you?” At his blank look, she rolled her eyes upward in exasperation. “It’s the week of the Winter Wonderland Bash. Snow, food, sleigh rides, snowman building competitions, and this little thing called Christmas?” She threw a hand out to the tree and the train still chugging along underneath. “You’re not going to find a room anywhere.”

  “Fine.” He slung his bag over his shoulder with a muttered, “That ought to be enough of an excuse to get out of this wretched trip.”

  Izzy cocked her head. Something in his words and scent pulled her up short. Clearly, his life was up in the air if he was in town during the holiday extravaganza. Alone.

  Like her.

  Her cougar added another hiss and slash to her insides, but what was she supposed to do? Poor planning on his part wasn’t going to rip up her recovery plans. Her aunt, her room. End of story.

  Zane turned and strode for the door.

  Izzy’s cougar yowled with every step and a familiar ache settled in her chest. She pressed her lips together and tried to turn away, but her victory was a hard pill to swallow. Impossible, even, when it caught in her throat.

  “Are you going to kill me?” she blurted to his retreating back.

  Zane twisted around, confusion pinching his eyebrows together. “What?”

  “Are you going to kill me? Smother me in my sleep? Be an overall sleazeball and sniff my dirty undies?” Izzy’s cheeks heated as some very uncreepy images popped into her head. And while Zane was the perfect specimen for a trip to reboundtown, she was dumb to even think of it. Stupid, even. Completely and totally idiotic, no matter how bright those eyes would look between her thighs. “If you stay. With me. Are you going to be on your best behavior?”

  The furrow of his brows deepened. “My wings are yours,” he started slowly, silver churning in his icy blue eyes, “my claws are yours, my fire is yours. I will do you no harm.”

  Goosebumps lifted up and down her arms at the solemn words. They felt big and important, as if they sank straight through her skin and branded themselves on her bones. Even without his clear, honest scent or the din of truth in his voice, she’d have believed him.

  “Izzy?” Muriel asked softly.

  The word broke whatever spell locked her in place. Izzy shook her head and cleared her throat. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” she told her aunt, then turned her attention back to the dragon she couldn’t let disappear into the snow. “There’s only one bed,” she told him, “but you can have the couch.”

  “How generous of you,” he snorted.

  “Hey,” she shot back, “don’t make me regret this.”

  He raised his hands to ward her off and canted his head. His eyes, bright blue once again, never left her face. “Thank you.” He took a step closer and held out his hand. “Zane Darkwood. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

  Izzy huffed a laugh. So maybe he wasn’t as broody as she first assumed. “Izzy Howell. Nice to meet you.”

  She took his hand and nearly shivered as warmth spread quickly through her frame.

  Well, duh, Izzy. He’s a dragon. They’re only made of fire.

  Strangely, her cougar stopped yowling.

  Chapter 4

  Zane glowered at the building in front of him. Not too big, not too small, certainly nothing extravagant about the signage. The name itself felt like a slap in the face. The Roost. As if the bar in the middle of Bearden was anything close to a proper dragon clan home.

  He scanned the mountain peaks rising above the town, but no other dragons jumped into the air or spiraled downward to their lairs. Strange. He’d have thought with so many coming and going from the town, there would be at least some extra security.

  Then again, maybe creatures capable of breathing fire from the sky fucked with the bottom line.

  Zane adjusted his grip on the package that forced him to the absurd little town in the first place. He didn’t want to spend the holidays with strangers. Hell, he didn’t want to spend holidays with his own damn clan!

  There was no lying to Hollis, though, and the clan leader would be sure to sniff out him taking the first chance to wing it out of town.

  Clear skies, he wished that woman hadn’t offered to share the suite.

  Fire bathed him from the inside. Lies, his dragon seemed to hiss. Pure, outright lies.

  Zane was of half a mind to track down an ancient line of dragon hunters to slay his inner beast.

  Was she hot? Fucking gorgeous. He didn’t need to stoop to look her in the eyes, and those curves were made for holding and stroking. She smelled wild. Like blackberries and heather teasing him over a fresh breeze. Mouthy as hell, too. He liked when a woman didn’t give two shits about his inner animal.

  But appreciation was as far as things went. They were unwilling roommates until he finished out his vacation orders, then it was back on the hunt for Erik. He didn’t have time for distractions in his line of work.

  Even if they reminded him of that scent he’d caught on his way into town.

  His boots crunched in the slush left behind after the most recent shoveling as he crossed the parking lot. The door swung open before he could even reach for the handle, letting a burst of sound into the relative quiet of the outside. Zane glanced at the sky. Not even evening time, but the revelers were out early.

  He waited for the couple stepping outside to pass, then brushed into the packed and noisy bar. Shifter and human patrons pushed up to the bar, sat around high-top tables, or crowded into the back to shoot some pool. Some crooning Christmas carol crackled over ancient speakers, but that didn’t stop the dancers rocking together on the small dance floor.

  Tall, dark, and scowly, the man behind the bar swiveled his head with a flare of his nostrils. Narrowed eyes zeroed in on Zane, somewhat expectant, somewhat avoidant.

  “Darkwood,” Gideon said as a flat greeting.

  “Bloodwing,” Zane answered, squeezing his way up to the shining wood bar top.

  “Waited long enough to show yourself.”

&
nbsp; “I didn’t know you cared so much for traditions,” Zane shot back.

  Gideon paused in rubbing a rag against the bar and snorted. “Enough not to want others in my territory. Is that mine?”

  Zane passed the package to its owner without a word.

  “How long are you here for?” Gideon asked after a pause.

  “Through Christmas. I’m supposed to take in all the offerings of your little enclave.”

  “Hm,” the other dragon grunted. “Better not let me catch you causing trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.” Zane spread his hands wide with his promise. “But if it’s fine by you, I’d like a beer now.”

  Another grunt was his only answer before Gideon wandered away, pulling empty glasses to his side of the bar and taking fresh orders as he went. Zane gave him a grateful nod when he returned a short time later with his drink.

  He’d just started his second when the door opened again and dragged his attention to the entrance. There was no choice in the matter. The thread of blackberries and heather that clung to his clothes after stepping into her room—their room—bloomed into a full gust of air. His dragon surged to the surface, greedy beast desperate to drag her scent into their lungs.

  She stood frozen in the middle of the doorway. Her eyes brightened when they landed on him, just a flash of green before her inner animal slipped behind her human awareness once again.

  “In or out, I’m not paying to melt the snow!” Gideon called down the bar.

  Izzy startled. She pasted on a pleasant smile and took her step inside, letting the door fall closed behind her. Another blink, and she cast a look over the bar. Searching for a seat, no doubt. And coming up empty.

  Not his problem. Not his concern.

  Except she’d agreed to share her space with him. Which probably saved his scales, to be honest. Something as insignificant as no vacancies would hardly convince Hollis to sanction his return. The clan leader would simply frown, fold his arms over his chest, and ask why he didn’t pick some other annoying tourist trap to spend the holidays.

  What the woman needed such a huge room for was a mystery, but not his to solve. Or pry into. Not his problem.

  His dragon snarled deep in his head.

  Reluctant, Zane lifted his hand and waved her over. She approached slowly, unwinding her scarf as she made her way through the crowd. Once she was close enough for no one else to steal the stool, he eased off and offered her the seat.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” she said, then pointed. “You don’t need to give me that. I can stand.”

  “I’m already up, aren’t I?”

  “And who said chivalry is dead?” she snarked and hopped up on the stool. She flashed a smile at the other bartender. “Cider, please.”

  Of course she’d drink fruity things.

  While waiting, she reached into her bag and pulled out a camera. Zane got a peek inside before she closed the thing back up. Other accessories lined the pockets and tiny compartments sized just right.

  “You a professional?” he asked before he could help himself.

  Surprise tinged her scent as she glanced at him, then back down to the screen she’d turned on with the right combination of button presses. “Yeah. Stills pay the bills.”

  He snorted at her rhyme, then flicked a glance at her to make sure he hadn’t offended. The opposite, in fact. Her lips twitched with a smile and her scent tinged with amusement. “Let me guess. Weddings?”

  “Nature, actually.” She gave her lap a wry smile. “I don’t have the patience for people.”

  Zane snorted. She was speaking his language. “Doesn’t who you are make it difficult to get close to anything?”

  “The opposite, actually. I don’t know if it’s because cougars are stalking animals in the wild, but I’ve been able to get close with relative ease.” Her flashed smile took him in before she turned back to her camera. Another few clicks and presses, and a gallery of images whirled by. She rocked from side to side as she searched for something in particular, then turned to show him the screen. “Here. This is from a trip to Brazil. This little capybara family kept submerging in the water whenever anyone in the crew I was with went near, so I grabbed my camera and went around the other side. See? You can spot the others in this one.”

  On the screen, what Zane assumed was the world judgiest mother sat amid green vegetation and murky water. The three runners up sat at her side, almost hidden by the leaves. Izzy was right, if he looked closely enough, he could pick out human shapes in the distance.

  He leaned back, eyes finding hers again. There was an extra light he hadn’t seen before, probably because she’d been ready to take him to task with the bristly end of her hairbrush. Now, though, she was in her element. Those photos, the continued thread of stomping through muck and sweating buckets in the rainforest, those were her passions.

  “Do you travel a lot?” he asked when she quieted.

  Deep in his head, his dragon smugly curled his tail around himself.

  Zane hid his frown in his drink. He was curious. Anyone would be curious about the person who agreed to share their quarters. That was it.

  “Less this year, but that was because—” She cut herself off with a twist of her mouth and a pained expression that smoothed over a second later. “Scheduling issues,” she finished. “I got bogged down with some scheduling issues.”

  Not a lie, but not quite the truth, either. Complete honesty was probably too much to ask, but a part of him still stung that she kept her words measured.

  He dropped his eyes back to her pictures. The green of rainforests had turned to the white of northern winter. Birds, a family of foxes, even a couple bears he suspected didn’t spend their entire lives in fur. To his woefully uncritical eye, they seemed like good shots.

  “Wait. Go back.”

  “There’s nothing there, just some blurs,” she said.

  Still, she scrolled. Big of her to let him see the mistakes. No doubt he’d be impressed if his eyes weren’t glued to the screen.

  “Stop. That one.” Zane grabbed the camera from her hands.

  “Hey!” Izzy tried to snatch it back, but he twisted away.

  No, it couldn’t be. Luck like that didn’t exist in the world.

  And yet, Erik Halvorsen glared directly at the camera.

  “Where did you take this?” Zane demanded, pointing at the screen.

  The eyes pricked unease throughout his body. Dark as night, full of hate, those were the eyes of someone truly depraved. He didn’t have any solid attachment to Bearden or its people, but he couldn’t stand by and let Erik hunt within the enclave’s borders.

  “That?” She shook her head. She wrapped her fingers around the camera and firmly stole it back from him. “That’s nothing. I nearly got taken out by a cub on a sled—”

  “Where, Izzy?” he asked again, impatience bleeding into his voice.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, jeez, no need to snap. I took it near the reservoir.”

  “Show me.” He needed to see for himself.

  “Can I finish my drink first?”

  He was sorely tempted to reach around her, snag her pint glass, and down the fruity beer himself to hurry her along, but he kept his hands to himself. He could be patient. One had to be patient while hunting a murderous criminal.

  Impatience coursed through his every cell by the time she swallowed the last of her drink and carefully packed away her camera. He didn’t even give her time to flag down Gideon or the other bartender for her tab, and instead threw enough bills on the wood to cover both of them. He was of half a mind to let his dragon take his skin and carry her away in his claws like those lies of dragons carrying away maidens.

  He hardly kept still on the trip out of town and was out his door before she’d even parked. Deep inhales brought him nothing but cold. Cold, and the blackberries and heather scent that kept his dragon on edge.

  “How did you find this place?” Zane trudged after Izzy and cast his
eyes over the little clearing she led him into. Cubs of all ages whooped and hollered as they flashed down a large hill, then dashed to the top for a chance to sled down again. A few parents watched while others tucked small cubs into their laps to give them a chance at the fun.

  On the other side, the river he’d spied from the sky ran into the lake.

  “Oh, I used to live here. My aunt still does—she owns the inn.” She rolled her eyes to him with a barely contained grin. “So, you see, there was no way you were taking that room from me.”

  He hardly cracked a smile at the joke. Even the wash of guilt at her frown didn’t outweigh his utter focus on the fresh lead. Sight, smell, ears open, he gave every bit of his attention to the hunt.

  “Here. I think. Hard to tell with the sleds, but I think these are my footprints.” She craned her neck and looked up the tree trunk. “I’m pretty sure this is where I was.”

  Which meant Erik had been watching from further in the tree line.

  Zane stomped past her without a word. He kept his eyes on the ground and tested the air with every breath. He wasn’t mistaken. He’d seen Erik in that photo. The proof was somewhere close, he just needed to find it.

  He stalked around a particularly wide trunk, then threw his arm out to keep Izzy from stumbling into the footprints left behind.

  The stench in the air unmistakably belonged to Erik Halvorsen. Sour, stomach turning, tinged with the monster’s dark madness, the trail led toward the edge of the lake.

  Zane carefully picked his way around the footprints in the snow. Erik’s scent grew stronger, but not by much.

  He cursed under his breath when he followed the trail to the river. Mounds of ice clung to the edges of the water, but the center still flowed and killed what remained of Erik’s scent.

  He’d missed him by hours, but he was in Bearden. He just needed to figure out where.

  “Who is this person to you?”

  Zane glanced up to find Izzy picking her way toward him, keeping her steps within his own. Smart girl.

  “He’s…” Zane paused and frowned at the easy way he wanted to tell her everything. He didn’t know the town. He didn’t know the people. Izzy was just as much a mystery as the rest. One word in the wrong ear could send Erik running all over again. He couldn’t blow his shot at taking the bastard down before he hurt someone else.