by Sadie Sears
“Good, thank you. I’m going to do everything in my power for your son, but right now, I need you to go to the waiting room.” More, I needed her out of the room, away from her son so we could work.
I needed to check the boy because I barely believed my eyes. I'd heard about this kind of thing but never saw it in person. There was a faint blue glow around the boy and his pupils were responsive to light, but his pulse was slow and weak. It had all the signs.
I tugged Justin away from the bed to the corner. “Does he look blue to you?”
Justin nodded. “You see it, too? I think it’s wizard magic.” He leaned in closer. “I read an article about wizards draining humans of their energy.”
I knew they’d come and gone freely once upon a time, but the laws against wizardry were now so strict for the safety of the shifters that lived in the state, wizards were almost magic-impotent.
Before I could ask why or what they did with the pilfered energy, Dr. Holt slipped into the cubicle, his voice booming through the small space. “You’re out of line, Nurse Lampert. Last time I checked, your credentials were in nursing. Stay in your lane and leave the diagnosing to the doctors.”
Justin turned to look at the hospital’s chief of staff. “Yes, sir. I apologize.”
Justin never made excuses when he was reprimanded. I admired him for that. He also didn’t waste time arguing that I’d asked his opinion. He would’ve been right, but it wasted precious time this boy didn’t have.
Holt had white hair and angry eyes even on a good day, and his lips disappeared when he frowned. But he was normally a good boss. Kinder than his son, anyway.
“And if you did all of your research, you would know there haven’t been any active wizards in Spruce in decades.” Dr. Holt took the tablet and flipped through the boy’s chart. “Gretta, have you heard of any recent wizard activity in the area?”
“Um, no sir.” But that blue aura around the boy certainly wasn’t a phenomenon I’d ever seen without some kind of radioactivity at play. Absent an environmental tragedy in the boy’s backyard, I didn’t have any other suggestions.
“I asked his opinion, sir,” I said as respectfully as I could.
Dr. Holt eyed both of us before he nodded, and then turned and left the cubicle. Justin watched him go, then turned back to me. “I appreciate you trying to have my back, but don’t.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
Justin stopped moving. “Gretta. You need to get in good with Holt. Don’t worry about how he speaks to me. You say on his good side or, if not that, off his radar.” He turned back to the boy. “Now. Do you honestly not think this is something supernatural?” He motioned to the unconscious child then sliced his hand through the blue aura. It didn’t so much as dent or crackle, and he didn’t jerk away.
"No, and even if it were, we have to treat him with human medicine. We need to get a CBC and a CMP. Let's see what his blood says." I adjusted the machine controlling the boy's IV drip and then entered the notes and orders for the bloodwork into the tablet.
Justin glanced at me. “So, how did your date with Sam go?”
I clamped a groan behind my closed lips and held my breath. Maybe if I didn’t answer or react, he’d forget he asked. But no such luck.
He cleared his throat. Not the kind of thing he was going to let go.
I checked him with a side-eye. He was staring.
Fine. “Bill saw us, and he did not buy that someone like Sam would be interested in me. He accused me of hiring Sam to pretend to be my boyfriend, which is true. Then Sam nearly punched Bill. In short, it was a fail. Gave Bill a good laugh though. Needless to say, I won’t be going out with Sam again. Or anybody else.”
When he opened his mouth, I pointed at him. "No one. You got me? I do not require a man. I don't want a man. I'm blissful. See? Happy." I gave him my best cheese face.
“You look ridiculous.”
I continued smiling.
“Stop. You’re creepy.”
When I pressed a few more buttons on the machine then turned back to him, face almost pained by how long I’d held this expression, he rolled his eyes. “I hope your face gets stuck that way.” He ran a cloth over the boy’s head, tenderly. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t kill you to enjoy a few minutes of Sam’s time. He’s hot. And you’re hot. I’ve always said all the pretty should mate up. The world would be a better place and you could use a little romance in your life.”
Romance? I couldn't help a small chuckle. "Nothing about it was romantic, and I'm not interested in anything like that." Except for the way he'd looked at me. That could've been considered maybe on the low end of the tingle scale if we turned the scale backward. "Besides, when would I have time? There are only so many hours in the day, and between Lila and work, I can't waste time on something so trivial."
"It's trivial because you haven't had someone look deep into your eyes, take your face in his hands, and thank you for being the best part of his day. You haven't come home to a glass of wine and a plate of pasta he slaved over. And you haven't woken up in the middle of the night to find this gem of a guy just staring at you, waiting for you to wake up because he just wants to see your eyes and hear your voice."
Here was a man who could paint a picture. But he was right. I’d never had those things. Girls like me didn’t inspire such romantic notions.
“Holy crap, Justin.” I fanned myself with my hand. “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.” But hadn’t we all?
“And you don’t give it enough. Or give yourself enough credit.” He had a way of making me feel lovely even when I looked like a dishrag. “You should take a little bit of Sam for yourself. That’s all I’m saying.”
In fairness, I hadn't told him how much my touch had almost repelled Sam. How he'd become only a little less stiff than a two-by-four when I slipped my arm through his.
“Do a little bit of Sam?” Even if I could find the time around Lila and working to get the research position, Sam would have to be willing. And no way could I do just a little bit of Sam. Not when I hadn’t stopped thinking about what the experience of doing all of him would be like.
The child's pulse and blood pressure had both stabilized and one of the nurses came in to take his blood. While I waited on the lab results, I admitted the boy to third-floor pediatrics with instructions to monitor him closely and page me if anything changed.
“Good work, Gretta.”
Dr. Holt peered over my shoulder as I entered my notes into the tablet. When I turned to face him, he backed up a step. His white hair matched his neatly trimmed beard, giving him a stately look. Justin left the cubicle, and after what happened earlier, I didn’t blame him. But now I was alone to face Dr. Holt's interrogation.
“About the patient earlier. I apologize if you thought I was butting in on your assessment of the patient.” He turned his version of a winning smile on me.
“It’s fine, Dr. Holt. I always welcome your opinion.” Although having him so near did nothing for my nerves. “I didn’t mean to contradict you, either. But I had asked for Nurse Lampert’s opinion. I didn’t want to make him take flak for me.”
He studied me. “That’s honorable of you.”
I ducked my head. “Just trying to be a good person.”
His smile widened, and he took a step closer. “I saw you passed the Magical Burn Treatment class Dr. Scott taught last week. That isn’t an easy course.”
He was checking up on me? At least I’d passed, but I still frowned. “How did you know I took the class?”
“I keep tabs on my brightest doctors. Which is why I’m surprised…”
Something changed in his eyes, and my heart raced as my worst fears bubbled to the surface. Bill had already told his father we’d broken up. Oh, God. He’d probably told him I’d dumped him and was forcing him to get his stuff out of my house, and then probably even told him I hired someone to pretend to be my boyfriend. And it hadn’t taken long at all. Not that it wasn’t all true, but
I sure as hell didn’t need him telling my boss.
I swallowed and then tried for a smile. "Surprised? In what way, Dr. Holt?"
“I expected to see your application for the research position. I was certain you would apply.”
“Oh, right.” Not about Bill. Thank God. “I’ve been putting the finishing touches on it before I submitted the paperwork.”
“Good, well, get that application to me as soon as possible. And you don’t have to be so formal, Gretta. I’m almost your father-in-law. You should call me Paul.” He patted my back and headed down the corridor.
I fell back against the hospital bed and let my breath whoosh out. So, Bill hadn't told his dad. Which probably meant he still didn't grasp that we'd broken up. This also meant I was either going to end up needing another date with Sam or I was going to have to figure out how to deal with Bill myself.
I’d treated Sam like dirt. Been ugly. Hateful even. And now I was going to have to apologize. Which in my book of likes and dislikes ranked only slightly higher than coddling patients who created their own illnesses through bad behavior. The least I could do was take him for a cup of coffee and both apologize and lay down the law that he couldn’t beat Bill up even if the man was an insufferable ass.
I replayed all the earlier events. When I got to the part where Sam grabbed Bill’s shirt and threatened him on my behalf, I might have experienced a tingle. A trickle of delight. No man had ever done that before. Of course, it could’ve been an act. Something he thought I expected. Chances were he hadn’t meant any of it. That was probably the most likely scenario.
So, whether he was a thug, a gentleman, or a brilliant thespian—I needed him.
4
Samuel
I stood in front of the bar for several minutes, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Gretta. While I would’ve enjoyed repeatedly pounding a fist into her ex’s face, I wouldn’t have done it. Not only because I’d promised her, but because I likely would’ve done some damage to the human. Didn’t matter though, because as soon as we walked out, she’d disappeared.
Probably for the best. I didn’t know if my being a dragon was a touchy area for her. No one knew better than I did how much worse it was telling someone I could, at will, sprout wings, breathe fire, and fly. Then there was the whole destined mate part of the conversation that would inevitably come up. Another doozy with the potential to send her running with her arms over her head, screaming up the mountain. Probably best she’d gone ghost.
I calmed as I sat on a bench at the park across the street from the bar. Usually, the sights and sounds of nature calmed me, helped me find my center. And when nature didn’t work, I could fly it out. But I’d already tried flying. Nature wasn’t doing it. All I could see was her face. Her eyes. That smile.
She’d dropped everything to go into work. Even her dedication was a turn-on.
She’ll never accept me.
My dragon thrashed his tail. He didn’t have a lack of confidence. He only knew he wanted her. Needed to be with her. He raged and snarled, pushed me to turn him loose.
I took deep breaths, filled my lungs with the fresh night air to smother the fire in my belly, and suppress my need to tear that asshole apart. My urge to protect Gretta didn't mean I was free to wreak havoc on unsuspecting, albeit deserving, pricks.
I took a walk through the park. There had to be a way to clear my head, a way to stop seeing her face every time I closed my eyes, to quit hearing her voice on the breeze. If this was what being destined was like, I wanted it to stop. But I also never wanted it to end.
Meandering, I circled back to Main Street and paused in front of Fresca’s—the eccentric little storefront restaurant Cameron had told me about, with artisan loaves of bread in the window and European cheeses on the menu. I tried to focus on the restaurant, the sights and smells, but the urge to go after Bill pulsed through me.
As if the universe knew I wasn’t gonna make it through this without a little help, Mitias, a dragon elder and the reason we’d chosen Spruce as our basecamp, came out of Fresca’s carrying two brown takeout bags.
“Samuel! Good to see you. How are you settling in?” Mitias smiled broadly, a sight for sore eyes.
Even in human years of 75 instead of his dragon years of 560, no one would ever guess he’d spent decades as a career military man before he settled here three years ago. Now, he sported the retired fisherman look, which was appropriate for a water dragon. He’d traded in his fatigues for khaki pants and a multi-pocketed vest that hung loosely from his frame and hid his well-muscled body.
“Are you finding everything you need and getting acquainted with our little town?”
Finding things I didn't even know I needed. "Yeah." Weary wasn't the impression I wanted Mitias to think I had of the place he called home, but he frowned. He'd picked up my inner turmoil.
“How about we take a walk?” It wasn’t really a question, and I didn’t protest because I needed advice and guidance.
"How's your first assignment for the agency?" The tone of Mitias's voice betrayed his casual inquiry as we strolled down the tree-lined street, and I glanced at him.
"Cam told you about Gretta?" Of course he had. Cam told Mitias about everything.
“I met with him and some of the others. They filled me in.” When I didn’t speak right away, he chuckled. “You realize this is good news, Samuel.”
Mitias always had a way of seeing the glass as half full. Ordinarily, a good thing. Not so much today considering Gretta hated me. The concept of destined mates required a bit of cooperation between the parties.
“I never got to tell her.” I shook my head then sighed. “She decided we were finished working together, and she could handle the guy herself.” I didn’t mention I’d almost decimated the guy.
"She's your destined mate, your soul's other half. If she doesn't realize it, then, of course, you'll have to convince her." He made it sound so easy.
“I think we’re going to have to chalk this one up to destiny making a mistake.”
He cocked an eyebrow, and I continued because he was the kind of guy who liked support for arguments, and I had some this time. “I don’t think I have it in me to be a mate. Look what happened last time I chose someone to spend my life with.”
“That was a poor choice and not, might I add, a mate chosen by destiny.” He patted my back. “Trust your dragon instincts, Samuel, they won’t fail you. And destiny doesn’t get it wrong.”
Easy for him to say.
I stuffed my fists into my pockets. He hadn’t seen how angry she was. If she hadn’t gotten that page from work, we would’ve still been on the sidewalk, she would’ve still been angry, and…beautiful, fiery, destined for me. A dull ache spread through my chest. I wanted Gretta to accept me—all of me. And since I’d been down this road before, I knew the chances were next to nil. Humans just didn’t get dragons.
I sighed. Loud. Long. Pathetic.
Mitias ignored me. “So, the agency is up and running?”
No segue necessary for the change in subject. You just had to be quick to catch up when Mitias was part of a conversation. “Yeah. Cam has everything in place.”
“It’s only a matter of time before the townspeople realize what an asset the eight of you will be.” Mitias smiled then assessed our surroundings with his blue eyes. “Which brings me to something else I need to discuss. There are some wizards in the area trying to drain humans of their energy.”
I stopped. I hadn’t dealt with wizards or seen them in action in…a long time. Wizards and witches lived the same lifespan as humans and assimilated themselves into this world. Unless they were up to no good, they lived ordinary lives by human standards.
However, when they went bad, they used their magic in unscrupulous ways instead of for good. Those tended to be sneaky, working in the background, being wicked for their own personal reasons. Wizards could drain energy from people and shifters, and they could make people sick, physically and mentally. T
hey did this for personal gain, to increase their own power, or to increase their wealth. Like most paranormals, witches and wizards look like humans, and humans couldn't detect a wizard from one of their own.
Most shifters weren’t particularly worried about them unless they were doing harm. They generally walked among the townsfolk without notice.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, I’m working with a group of elders to locate the wizard’s power hubs and destroy them. We’ve found crystal formations in the mountains we believe the wizards use to store energy, but my intel says there are more. We just don’t know exactly where yet.” He frowned and looked into the distance as if he could visualize one of the formations. “If you hear of any suspicious behavior, let me know, but be careful. This particular group is strong, capable of anything. Even murder.”
A trio of college kids spilled out of a building across from the park, laughing and chattering, followed by a couple of teenagers on skateboards doing tricks. Mitias smiled. “These are the people we need to protect, Samuel. This is what dragons were born for, to protect. To safeguard all people against harm from others.”
“I agree. I’ll let you know if I hear anything. I’m here to help you.”
“And what about Gretta?” He shot me a glance out of the corner of his eyes.
I sighed. “I’ll figure it out.” I didn’t have much choice. The urge to see her was almost more than I could take, and I didn’t think I could stay away from her even if I tried.
“Of course you will. And you’ll see. It’s not 1915 anymore. You’ve grown, changed, and the world has changed with you. Trust destiny. She won’t let you down.” He patted my arm then smoothed his palms over my shoulders, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about destiny or Gretta. But it didn’t matter. He was right. Always.
The persistent buzz of my doorbell had me flinging back my blanket and throwing my legs over the side of the bed. In the old days, people called before they showed up. When and why did such a nice practice stop?
