Dragon Intrigues

by Isadora Montrose

  “We can’t send anyone into the Old Forest until daybreak,” Uncle Wally said. “Too dangerous. But equally if our firebug is in there, it’s perilous for him.” This was true. The Old Ones asked no questions and took no prisoners. “However, even as we speak, the Air Patrol is doing flybys. They report the mist around the Old Forest is extra thick tonight, which is a good indication that our suspect is in there.”

  Mr. Drake squared his shoulders and attempted to regain control. “Bottom line is Blythe’s off the Ferris project. SPAR will find out who our subject is and deploy field workers to take him out of circulation.”

  “I know all about your keepers and diggers, Drake,” returned Uncle Wally. “There better be no extra-judicial executions on my island.” He thumped the table with his fist. “And what about Blythe’s reputation? I wasn’t the only one who got an eye-opener this evening. That Fred Bell could gossip for the Pacific Northwest. There’s no stuffing that little exhibition behind the blinds.”

  “I’ve already spoken to Neil about his behavior.” Mr. Drake’s voice and eyes were cold. Under one eye, a muscle jumped. “He knows what is expected of him.”

  Neil’s jaw tightened. His back teeth were certainly taking a beating. Duncan reached into the inside pocket of his hand-tailored sports coat and brought out a small black velvet bag. He spilled the contents onto one palm and stirred them with a long finger. Rainbow light flashed from a small heap of jewels set in gold.

  “Cool,” murmured Blythe. “I think this is where we get paid off, Uncle Wally.”

  For the first time that night, genuine laughter mellowed Duncan Drake’s feral eyes. “Sass is an excellent thing in a woman.” He chuckled. “But it’s indispensable in a wife.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Neil~

  His heart sank. Blythe looked like she was hanging on to her temper by a thread. She was so not going to respond well to Great-Grandfather’s bludgeoning. She needed careful wooing, and a good night’s sleep. Not necessarily in that order. But he supposed that having already experienced mercy from the head of the family, he was going to have to work with his new orders.

  Great-Grandfather had arrived hard on Babcock’s heels, having seen both the fire and Neil’s aerial fire-fighting from the Big House. He had acknowledged that the fire and attack on Blythe constituted an emergency and that saving the forest was laudable. But naturally he felt that Neil should have neutralized Ferris before he could detonate his bomb, and that after shifting, he should have kept his passions under control.

  In fact, Duncan Drake had ripped him a new one. There was not much Neil could do beyond standing at attention and answering all accusations with, “No excuse, sir.”

  It was unexpected when Great-Grandfather sighed and leaned back in his armchair. “In hindsight,” he said, “It was perhaps unwise for me to forbid you to shift for an extended period, and also expect you to learn to control your talent.”

  Neil had swallowed the insult, as he had swallowed all Great-Grandfather’s insults. Among the Drakes, not having total control of your dragon shifting was considered immature and unmanly. The ultimate character flaw. He set his jaw and forbore to mention that he had been barely twenty when Great-Grandfather had grounded him.

  “The damage is done. But the Drakes are not going to have to explain to the town council why you’ve seduced that girl. You get a ring on her finger before the sun rises. Understood?”

  Which was a dream come true. His brain swam with a heady vision of Blythe in his bed. Blythe sitting across from him at the dinner table. Blythe round with his dragonling. Then reality raised its head. “I’m willing,” he said steadily, “but I can’t speak for the bunny.”

  And now here was Great-Grandfather waving his personal hoard around as if some flashy jewelry would make a woman like Blythe marry anyone. Duncan pulled out a ring with a ruby bigger than Blythe’s thumbnail. The ruby was a sun surrounded by a constellation of diamonds, the pride of the old man’s hoard.

  “This was my grandmother’s,” he informed Neil unnecessarily.

  “It’s magnificent,” he assured the old man. “But a trifle unwieldy for a dainty finger.” He glanced at Blythe. She had stopped chewing and was glowering at them both. “Eat up,” he coaxed.

  That little chin firmed and her eyes shot sparks. But she spared them her opinion of dragons who thought she was for sale.

  He flicked through the jewels on his great-grandfather’s palm. Found the treasure he sought. A pearl nestled in a ring of yellow diamonds and emeralds. The setting made it look like a glittering buttercup. He plucked it out. “I think this is more suitable.”

  Walter buried his face in his handkerchief as if he was suppressing a sneeze. Neil was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh.

  Great-Grandfather nodded solemnly. “That’ll do fine. It’s a sentimental favorite,” he assured Blythe. “Belonged to my great-aunt Evelina.”

  Blythe rolled her eyes. Neil had to do this right or she’d bolt. He rose and glided toward her. Her chair was turned to face him before she could protest. He went down on one knee without thinking. His bad knee. It twinged but didn’t topple him. He took her hand.

  “Will you do me the honor to wear my ring?” He slid it onto her finger. He sealed it there with a word of power. Instantly the band shrank to fit her finger. Judging by the size of the ring, he was pretty sure Evelina Drake had been another heroically proportioned dragoness.

  Blythe held her hand up so that the brilliants flashed and sparkled. It looked just right on her finger. Pretty but large enough to tell poachers she was off the market.

  The ring was old, but dragons took care of their personal hoards, he was sure that those stones had been recently polished. He just hoped that he would be able to find his own stash. It had been in his pants pocket and was probably scattered to kingdom come.

  She smiled sadly. “I think it’s a bit soon.”

  “It’ll stop the talk,” Wally put in.

  Great-Grandfather rose to his feet. “Yes, it will. And, now, as pleasant as this little chat has been, I’m an old man and it’s time I got to bed.” He smiled at Blythe. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” And then he was gone. Just another aspect of his talent.

  “I’m not worried about the talk,” said Blythe.

  Neil covered her left hand with his own. He didn’t want her to discover that she could not remove the ring, until after Babcock had left. “I am,” he said. “The good folks of Mystic Bay will be baying for my blood by the time they’ve had their coffee with a side of gossip. I’ll bet by now, someone’s called your folks.”

  “They’re on a cruise,” Blythe said weakly.

  “Uh-huh.” Wally looked unconvinced. “If I know my sister, she bought herself an international package so she could call her only child.”

  Blythe brightened. “Then it’s unfortunate that my cell phone’s out in the meadow with my clothes,” she responded demurely.

  There was a knock at the side door. Deputy Wolfmann came in. The werewolf carried bright pink and black clothing in one hand, and a cell phone and earbuds in the other. The cell phone was ringing.

  “The fire department wants us to hold off searching the house until the ashes are cold. We’ve done a preliminary search of the grounds, Sheriff. The phone was ringing, so it led us to your things, Blythe,” he added. He set the clothing on the table and held out the phone.

  Blythe glanced at the screen. “It’s Mom,” she announced in the voice of doom. She grabbed her clothes and retreated to the hallway.

  Walter stood up. “Blythe will stay with us tonight,” he said.

  “You have small children. I don’t think your wife will thank you if that arsonist decides to torch your place,” Neil said. “Blythe will be just as safe here with me. I’ll take good care of her.” It was a pledge.

  CHAPTER 7

  Blythe~

  Mom was frantic. “Is it true you set Granny’s kitchen on fire and burned down her whole house?”

 
; “No.”

  “Three separate people told me the house is gone,” Sonia Warren said.

  “There was a fire,” Blythe admitted. “And it began in the kitchen. But I wasn’t home, and I didn’t leave the stove on or anything. And we don’t know the extent of the damage yet.”

  “I’ll bet it was a short in the electrical system. Knob and tube is dangerous. I told your grandmother she should have the wiring upgraded,” fretted Sonia.

  “Probably not a short. We don’t know the cause for sure yet. Uncle Wally says there will be a full investigation.” No point mentioning bombs or arson. Mom and Dad would just worry.

  Mom snorted, sounding uncannily like her brother. “Your uncle is a fine lawman, but fire investigation is an altogether different job.”

  “He knows that, Mom. The state is sending a team of professionals tomorrow. They should be on the first ferry from Friday Harbor.”

  Silence greeted that statement. Blythe braced herself. Mom cleared her throat delicately. “What’s this I hear about you and that wild Drake boy playing around?”

  “Neil is a grown man, and a military hero,” Blythe reproved. “Whatever wildness he ever had is long past.”

  “Once a hellion, always a hellion,” Sonia declared disapprovingly. “Everyone knows he and his cousin got into a duel. They fought in dragon, and Randall died.”

  Blythe sighed. “I heard Randall drowned. Sad, but blaming Neil for a sailing accident seems excessive.”

  “That’s what the Drakes would have us believe. It was all hushed up.” Mom sniffed. “But everyone knows it was a full-on aerial duel.”

  “Just because you heard it at the Bean, doesn’t mean it’s true,” Blythe said. The Bean & Bran was the powerhouse of Mystic Bay’s rumor mill. Stories grew and multiplied in that little coffee shop.

  “Money changed hands,” Sonia assured her. “If your uncle had been sheriff then, of course, things would have been different. But he wasn’t. There wasn’t an autopsy or anything. So Neil got off scot-free.”

  It was a known fact that the previous sheriff had pretty much been a waste of space. Uncle Wally was incorruptible and everyone knew it. On the other hand, bringing criminal charges against a dragon for aerial fighting wasn’t something even the most diligent sheriff could pull off. How would he frame the charges? What evidence could he present to the judge?

  “If that duel ever happened,” Blythe said. Personally, she was skeptical of anything she heard at the Bean.

  “Oh, it happened, all right. And even if it didn’t, you still shouldn’t be involved with a hunter. Or did you forget that they eat rabbits?”

  “I’ve never heard of any hunter on West Haven eating their neighbors. Besides, aren’t I a little old to have to explain my personal relationships to my parents?”

  Mom ignored her protest. “Not when you are caught bare naked in bed with a dragon.”

  “We weren’t anywhere near a bedroom. We were in the kitchen.” There was no need to confirm that they had both been nude. Or that she had been a fraction of an inch from discovering the full extent of her capacity for passion. Or that her crush wasn’t cold and dead. Too much information.

  “Apparently it’s all over the island that you’ve been carrying on with a hunter in your grandmother’s house,” Sonia persisted. “So don’t try to pretend this isn’t happening.”

  “We had a moment,” admitted Blythe. “After Neil saved the house from burning down, and realized I wasn’t dead.” Quite a moment, in fact. Not that it was anyone’s business.

  “I thought you said you weren’t home?”

  “I wasn’t. I was out browsing. But Neil didn’t know that. I had to shift in order to get into his house and place the 911 call. He came in from putting out the fire and stuff just happened.”

  “Stuff!” Sonia paused. “Are you sure he didn’t set Granny’s house on fire?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Neil put the fire out.”

  “I’ve heard of fighting fire with fire, but that seems highly unlikely.” Mom cleared her throat again. “And let me tell you, that’s not what they’re saying in Mystic Bay.”

  “Oh? What are they saying?” That was the trouble in a small town. Gossip was its life blood. And truth was never as exciting as wild surmise.

  “Your Aunt Peony told me Neil set the fire because you were two-timing him with some incomer. Apparently Old Mr. Drake has promised to have him committed.”

  “That’s wrong in so many ways, Mom, I don’t know where to begin. Hyland Ferris and I weren’t involved. He’s a broker. He wanted me to invest my money with him. So even if Neil and I were involved, he wouldn’t have anything to be jealous of. And Mr. Drake came by. He saw the blaze from his house and wanted to be sure we were all safe. And as it happens, Neil Drake is some sort of frost dragon. Perfectly able to extinguish fires.”

  Sonia went back a few items. “What money? You don’t have any money. You and Molly are in hock up to your ears.”

  “True. But Ferris figured that I’d sell the house and have a big old pile. He’s not from around here. And I didn’t want to explain that I can only sell Granny’s house to the Drakes or to someone in my family.” There was no way she was going to mention SPAR. Not when Mom already had a dozen incompatible rumors upsetting her.

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a catch,” Sonia said disparagingly. “Or any kind of an investment adviser.”

  “Which is why I got rid of him. Ferris left this afternoon.”

  “Good. But your father still wants a word with you.”

  Blythe’s heart sank. “Hey, Dad.”

  “How long this has been going on?” Glenn Warren demanded.

  “Has what been going on?”

  “You carrying on with two different men.”

  One little kiss. Well, maybe one red-hot kiss, the hottest kiss of her entire life, but still just a kiss, and she was a Jezebel. Small towns, ya had to love ‘em. “There is no carrying-on involved, Dad. Hyland Ferris is an investment counselor. He got the idea that Granny left me a fortune and he wanted me let him invest it. We certainly weren’t dating or anything.”

  Actually Hyland had had that falsehood carefully implanted by Molly as part of the sting. It was true that Granny’s house would be worth a bomb on the open market, if only the conditions of her deed didn’t forbid an open sale.

  But Blythe wasn’t going to share the details of the sting with her father. As upset as he already was, he’d be on the next plane. Their vacation had been two years in the planning. Blythe had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure they didn’t cancel when Granny passed.

  “He followed me to Mystic Bay and I decided to let him wine and dine me,” Blythe said casually. “I’ve only been on the island for six days, and Hyland only arrived three days ago. I hadn’t even seen Neil in years and I didn’t even know he was going to stay at the cottage. Besides he’s been holed up recovering from his combat injuries.” That sounded better than sulking over a bum knee. Or lusting from afar.

  “Really? Well, you can certainly try that story in town, but I’ll tell you right now, there’s not a soul in Mystic Bay who’s going to buy it. How often did we warn you to keep your distance from those dragons? Just because your granny lived next door didn’t make them safe.”

  “I’m no longer a child, Dad. And aside from a few neighborly courtesies, Neil and I have not been socializing.”

  “And yet you know all about his heroic military service.” When Dad fell back on sarcasm, it was not a good sign.

  “Granny lived right next door. She and Neil’s grandmother had coffee on each other’s porches.” The gulf between housekeeper and lady of the manor had been bridged when the Drakes gave Alma Warren their guest cottage. It had narrowed even more when she retired. “Granny heard all about Neil’s exploits, and she passed the news on to me. Right at the end, she didn’t get out much beyond those coffee visits.”

  “Humph. You want me to believe that you went from neighborly civility to boi
nking in the kitchen?” Glenn threw out angrily.

  “We were both a bit in shock,” Blythe said weakly. “And no boinking happened.”

  “You might have considered your family,” Glenn chided. “Both sides. The Babcocks have just as deep ties in Mystic Bay as the Warrens. I don’t know how you expect your mother to face her bridge club, or me to go to the dump with everyone speculating about your carrying on with a hunter.” Like all small towns, the dump was where men in Mystic Bay bonded and exchanged views, also known as deep background. As a gossip generator, it was second only to the Bean.

  There was no point in arguing with Dad in this mood. But Blythe heard herself challenge him. “Neil Drake may be a dragon, and he may have been a wild teenager, but he’s done his military service. Right now he’s a wounded veteran with a stack of medals. To say nothing of having saved my house. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

  “Hunters are not to be trusted.”

  “That’s just prejudice. I didn’t want to mention it tonight, but Neil asked me to marry him.”

  “Next thing you know you’ll be on the menu.”

  “No hunter in living memory has ever dined on their neighbors,” she said through her teeth. “And I just told you I’m engaged to be married. Do you really want to discuss the failings of my fiancé’s family?”

  She might as well have saved her breath. “There’s always a first time. To say nothing of those Haverstocks. Besides the facts don’t matter as much as what people say.”

  Owen Haverstock had been a grizzly shifter whose murderous rampage had terrorized the entire island for a decade back in the nineteenth century. Blythe pointed out this was ancient history and finished, “Then I hope you’ll be happy to learn that Mr. Drake supervised Neil’s proposal and I have a ring on my finger that looks like it came out of a pirate’s treasure chest.”

  “Pirates, dragons, not much difference if you ask me.”