by T. S. Joyce
Alison shook her head and blinked her eyes hard because he didn’t deserve this emotional reaction from her. He was a complete stranger, and not a nice one like she’d thought. His engine roared, and gravel sprayed behind her as he spun out and drove away.
Good riddance.
She would rather walk all the way back to her cabin than sit in the car another minute with Kirk Slater.
Chapter Four
Alison stopped at a massive burn mark across the lawn. It probably stretched the length of an acre, and suddenly, she regretted telling her only safety net to piss off. Even if Kirk had been a jerk, he’d sounded sincere when he’d said he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But now, she was standing right in front of the dragon’s lair, weaponless, and probably smelling like dinner.
“You smell scared,” a deep voice said from the trees.
Alison jumped and instinctively reached for a gun that wasn’t at her hip.
Damon Daye stepped out of the shadows of the woods. He wore a fine, charcoal-gray suit, and his dark hair was mussed on top. It was a youthful cut that contrasted with the first hints of silver at his temples. His dark eyes were hard as stone. He looked unassuming enough, and dashing even, but his presence pressed a weight upon her shoulders she’d only felt once before, the night she was trying to save Emerson Elliot from the clutches of the Boarlanders who had apparently not kidnapped her like her faulty intel had stated.
Damon housed the biggest and most dangerous monster of all.
Alison straightened her spine and cleared her throat. “I asked for a meeting with you two weeks ago.”
“And I denied it. Ms. Holman, you do realize this is private property, do you not? Without a warrant or probable cause to be here, I don’t have to answer any of your questions. Now, your first impression left much to be desired. I don’t enjoy seeing weapons pointed at my friends. It makes me feel…” A low, prehistoric rumble sounded from the man, and his eyes lightened to a terrifying silver color. “Angry,” he finished.
Holy shit, Damon was scary. She cleared her throat, stalling so that her voice wouldn’t tremble when she spoke. “Then why now? Why have you finally decided to meet with me after all this time?”
“Because you have a champion in your corner.”
“Who?”
“Kirk Slater.”
Well, that drew her up short. “But…he hates me.”
Damon lifted his chin and placed his hands formally behind his back. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Hate is a strong word, and not what he feels, I think. You have this meeting because he reminded me of the favor you did for some of the people I care about.”
“What favor?”
“When you delivered the news that the laws concerning shifters were changing, you went against your partner to give Emerson that note. Call Cora Keller. You knew Emerson might be able to sneak her marriage to Bash under the wire if she had the right information. And you, for whatever reason, gave us that information. I’m intrigued by you, Alison Holman. You surprised me, and I assure you, I’m not surprised easily.”
Most likely a product of his immortality. Or what was his immortality, because rumor had it, the dragon was mortal now.
“Why are you here?”
Damon’s sudden, direct question caught her off guard, so she stumbled on the answer. “Uuuh, to serve as the point of contact—”
“Between the outside world and my mountains, yes, yes, you said that when I met you the first time. Now chip away at the bullshit and tell me what is really happening.”
“I’m not entirely sure.”
Damon frowned and cocked his head. His eyes were still silver, but now his pupils were slowly elongating. “Explain.”
“My partner and I were chosen for a special task force, but we weren’t told what it was until right before we got on a plane headed for Wyoming. We learned about the last minute changes to shifter rights on our way here. My guess is they’re worried about retaliation from you and from your people.”
“My friends, not my people.”
“Saratoga has a police force, but way up here, there is no enforcement. Finn and I are now that enforcement.”
“Have you been asked to watch us? To report on our behavior?”
“No. Which is surprising because that would make more sense. My job description is to ensure you abide by the laws and to keep humans, especially human women, from making their way into your mountains.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t want any more dragons. They didn’t tell me that specifically, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“I’m not building an army, you know. I’m building a family.”
She swallowed and dropped her gaze. “It wasn’t my choice for them to start stripping rights. If there had been a vote, I would’ve voted against it.”
“You’re pro-shifter?”
“Apparently so.”
Damon became quiet and watched her for a long time before he said, “Follow me, Alison Holman.”
“You can call me Ally.” She followed behind him as he stepped gingerly over the lean taper of a burn mark on the earth.
“I did my research on you too, Ally.”
Dread dumped into her stomach. “What do you mean?”
“That’s what you do, right? You have access to personal information on anyone you suspect is doing wrong?” Touché. “I know what happened in Chicago. I know where you came from, which is why you’ve surprised me. You should’ve turned hard. You should’ve gone dark, but you gave Emerson that note. It must be a lonely life, living undercover. Never being able to trust anyone or open up. Always pretending to be someone you aren’t.” Damon shot her a significant look. “That’s how it is to be a shifter. Or it was before the government required us to register. Hiding kept us alive.”
Alison’s heart was pounding so hard against her chest, her entire torso ached. She pushed aside a clump of plants that covered the trail and sidled past them. “I don’t like to talk about Chicago.”
“The point, Ally, is that bone-deep loneliness you must have felt? I know all about that. I’ve lived a long time, and at some point, after I’d watched everyone die and everything change, I shut down.”
Alison shook her head and resisted the urge to double over the pain in her middle. “You’ve lost a lot?”
“More than you can imagine. And then this happened.” Damon stepped through a final line of trees and onto the bank near a waterfall. He gestured to a red-headed woman in the river, holding a little boy, who was clutching onto her shoulders and giggling as she spun them fast. The little boy had a crop of curly red hair, like his momma’s, but his eyes were dark like Damon’s. “That right there makes up most of my world now. Clara and I didn’t have a baby to build some line of defense, Ally. We had a child because she wanted to be a mother, and I wanted to be a father again. A good father this time.”
“Is he a dragon?”
Damon blinked slowly and leveled her with a hollow look. “Does it matter?”
“To the world, it will.”
“To me it doesn’t. To me, I care about him growing up safe. I care about him being happy. I care about my mate not staying up at nights worrying about his future or his right to choose his own mate.”
Alison leaned back against a tree and watched Clara laugh and lay smacking kisses all over the child’s face until he scrunched up his shoulders and laughed. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You may.” But I reserve the right to answer or not. That last part wasn’t said out loud, but it didn’t have to be. His tone implied enough.
“How did you do it?”
Damon angled his face to her, but his eyes stayed on his mate and child. “Do what?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How did you let them in?”
If he’d known true loneliness, he would understand her question. How did he open up his heart to something as dangerous as love?
“It took a long time, but even
tually I had to take the risk to care again or lose everything good about myself.” He arced his darkening gaze to hers. “Ally, you have one short lifetime. Choose where to take a stand before it’s too late.”
“Everyone I’ve ever cared about has gotten hurt.”
Damon inhaled deeply. “Then get better at protecting them. You have my permission to come onto my land, but your partner does not. He doesn’t care about the people here, and he stinks of anti-shifter. We have children up here. Families to protect. You will be safe, but he will push too far. For our safety and his, Finn Brackeen needs to stay off my land unless he has an actual reason to be up here. I will cooperate with you, but you’ll be escorted by Kirk.”
“Kirk? But he has better things to do than—”
“You shot one of my friends, Alison Holman.” He arched his dark eyebrows and dared her to deny it. “I know what happens in my mountains, and Kirk has decided you deserve a second chance. I trust him and his judgement, and I’m willing to give you a chance because he’s asked that of me. That gorilla hasn’t ever asked anyone for anything. Take care with him. He’s having a hard time, and the second I think you’re making it worse for him, you will be banished from these mountains, just like Finn, and no law enforcement badge will change that. Are we clear?”
Clear as mud. She didn’t understand all the riddles about Kirk. What was he having a hard time with? And why the hell would he ask a favor of the dragon for her? Damon didn’t seem to want to discuss it further, though, so she nodded once, exposed her neck, and said, “Yes. We’re clear.”
And as Damon escorted her back through the woods, it dawned on her that this meeting hadn’t clarified anything.
It had only made her more confused about her role here and these secretive people who lived in Damon’s trailer parks. And most of all, she was baffled by the mysteries surrounding Kirk.
He felt important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.
Chapter Five
Kirk got halfway down Damon’s drive when he slammed on his brakes and skidded to a stop. Why had he done that? Getting close to Ally had caused him to push her away hard. Everything in him wanted to get to know her better, but the more he learned, the more he felt like running. She felt dangerous. Not physically, but inside of him, deep in his chest. She had the power to rile him up, and that was a problem for him, as well as her.
But as much as he wanted to escape the drugged sensation she gave him, he couldn’t leave her to walk home and, sure as shit, Damon wasn’t going to get her there safely. The only reason he was meeting with her was because Kirk had asked.
And now he was sitting here going over their conversation in his mind and wondering why his emotions were swinging so wide around her.
Okay, he was pissed, but why? Sure she’d pegged him all wrong and assumed he was just some asshole chasing women, but he’d pegged her wrong, too. So wrong. An orphan, raised in a girls’ home, getting into trouble, and all those damned tattoos made more sense now. He wondered if she got them before or after spending time undercover. Narcotics? Holy fuck, she had seen things. Probably awful things, and now it dawned on him that she was confusing his senses because maybe she was broken.
Just like him.
“Fuck,” he yelled, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He should run. He should’ve never begged her a meeting with Damon or gotten involved at all. He should’ve left her alone, but she was so damned intriguing. His animal had been a beast to deal with since she’d shot him.
And what did that say about him? Every time he thought about her, or spent time around her, his inner animal drew up and pined to be closer to the woman who’d blasted a bullet into his shoulder. For fuck’s sake, he was even more messed up than he’d realized. He should go back to the Lowlanders down in Saratoga and far away from Alison Holman. Ally. She’d given him permission to use a name she liked. A name for friends, and what had he done? Got desperate, got scared, got mean. Typical Kirk. That’s exactly why Fiona hadn’t trusted him to run a family group. That’s why she had assigned him to guard Kong and ready him to head a family group instead. Kong was always the better option.
No, it wasn’t right for him to get jealous. Kong had never asked for that kind of treatment and, hell, if anyone was in the wrong, it was Kirk for accepting a bodyguard position. He’d kept Kong miserable for years. He fucking deserved to have an interesting, beautiful woman dangled in front of his face, only to realize she was broken. He wasn’t the kind of man who could fix anyone. He was shit mate material, and Ally would be better off without him complicating her life.
But, damn it all, “complicated” was so tempting right now.
The way she’d said “Fuck you” had given him a massive boner that was still at full mast, even though he was still pissed at himself, at fate. Of course his gorilla would choose an unattainable, messed up mate who had seen too much grit to ever really know how to love. Of course he would pick a mate two fuckin’ weeks after human-shifter pairings were declared illegal. He wanted to laugh and scream and break everything. More proof he was losing his mind.
But no matter how hard his feelings were churning, Ally still needed an escort out of these mountains. Not because he thought the crews were dangerous to her, but because he didn’t want her getting lost or stumbling onto some unknown danger in the wild woods of Damon’s mountains. Yeah, see? Add overprotective to the list of disastrous traits his gorilla had adopted since he’d seen her that first night.
He pulled a U-turn and drove back up to Damon’s half-finished mansion and came to a stop before the clearing because, dammit, he had to play this cool. He couldn’t seem like an overeager puppy with a lady like Ally. She was flighty. Her career said as much. He bet she could shut down on people the second she wanted to.
Kirk cut the engine and relaxed back against the seat, waiting to see her again.
Ten minutes later, Ally crested a mound of scorched earth, her frown directed at the ashes around her feet. He couldn’t give much of himself, but he could give her an explanation on what had happened to Damon’s lair. But then again, he had to be careful with the information he offered. She was here for a reason, and one he didn’t understand or like, and if she was here to spy on the shifters, he had to make sure she was trustworthy before he gave her anything.
She wore light-wash jeans that hugged her hips and thighs. She’d worn her uniform the first night she’d tried to save Emerson, but she seemed much more comfortable in the jeans and figure-hugging black cotton shirt she wore. Her shirt had bunched behind the gold badge that glinted from the waist of her jeans, showing a tiny patch of fair skin on her stomach. Fuck, his fingers itched to touch her there. Ally probably hadn’t had much use for a uniform before if she’d worked undercover.
She cast a worried glance behind her, then crossed her arms over her chest, as if she had caught a chill. Good instincts. Damon had that effect on people.
Kirk turned on the engine, and Ally looked up, her crystal blue eyes startled. She slowed and ran her fingers through her bleach-blond hair, pushing it back from her face. With another quick look back behind her, she made her way slowly to his car.
Kirk rolled down the window, and she leaned her elbows against the open frame, giving him one hell of a view of those tiny, perky tits under that V-neck. Black bra to match her shirt and, holy fuck, he hoped her panties matched.
“Tell me why you got me a meeting with Damon. And try to do it without staring at my boobs.”
Kirk tried and failed to drag his gaze from her chest. “Lady, if you want answers, you’ll have to put them away.”
With an irritated sigh, Ally yanked open the door and slid into the seat. “You feel heavy, and the air in here is too thick to breathe.”
Kirk rolled down his window too to try and thin out the air. “I was pissed.”
“At me?” she asked softly.
“No. At me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Her big blue gaze collided with
his. In a voice barely higher than a whisper, she admitted, “I didn’t mean to hurt you either. I shouldn’t have judged. I forget I’m not the only one with baggage sometimes, you know?”
Kirk lifted his hips, adjusted his dick, and offered her an unapologetic smile. “You’re not my type. I like curvy women with big tits and asses. Brunettes with long hair.”
Rude but not that surprising. She didn’t exactly have men beating down her door. “Kirk, do you want to know one of the big reasons I was recruited when I was so young?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m naturally rail-thin. They needed a small girl, someone who looked weak and strung-out. A girl who looked like a druggie, but without an addiction.” Sadness washed through her eyes. “The things you hate were exactly what someone else was looking for in a woman.”
“You mean what a handler was looking for, not a man who was supposed to enjoy your body.”
Ally clenched that sexy pixie jaw of hers and smelled like anger.
Shaking her head, she shoved open the door and got halfway out before he said, “Don’t run. Just listen to what I have to say. You asked me why I got you the meeting. I’ll tell you.”
Ally stood frozen, half out of his car. He thought she would still leave, but she sat on the edge of the seat and offered him a look over her shoulder instead. “I’m listening.”
“What I was trying to say is you aren’t my usual type”—he jammed his finger at his hard-on—“so this makes no damned sense to me. Suddenly, nobody is pretty to me anymore. No one unless they have short blond hair, tiny, kissable lips, big blue eyes, and the frame of a waif. Small, perky tits are apparently my thing now. And tattoos. Fuck, Ally, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to imagine where your tattoos end. I got you a meeting because you asked Damon for it that first night, and I knew he was putting you off. I got you the meeting because I can’t—” He shook his head. It was too much, too fast.
