Dragon Next Door: Forgotten Dragons Book 1

by Bolryder, Terry

  She just had a hunch.

  Chapter 4

  “Olive oil. Then flank steak. Probably need more chives if I’m going to double the recipe,” Tristan muttered to himself, working through his mental shopping list as he glided through the aisles of the small corner supermarket.

  He caught passing glances from the sparse, early afternoon crowd, but he kept moving, tossing items into his grocery basket as he retrieved the last few items and made his way to the checkout counter.

  After last night’s… issue, he’d needed to make another run for groceries.

  Tristan tapped his foot impatiently as the checkout lady scanned his items. When she looked up at him curiously, he readjusted his sunglasses, not caring if he looked sketchy as long as she didn’t get a good look at his eyes or face.

  Dragon shifters tended to be the biggest and most beautiful of the shifter world, and they weren’t exactly designed to blend in. So there was a definite method to surviving in a human city and ensuring that he and his brother didn’t starve or live on Chinese takeout alone.

  Tristan never shopped at the same place twice. He always moved through the store quickly and avoided any conversation. Then he brought the food home directly. No extra stops.

  A few of the many precautions he had learned to take in a lifetime of running.

  Tristan paid in cash, ignoring the change, and grabbed the dozen or so plastic bags in one of his hands, heading out into the sunlight. He’d walk a few blocks, hail a cab, head home, and call it a day.

  It was hard not to search for Kelsie’s face in the passersby on his left and right.

  But he knew his chance of seeing her, even a few miles away from where they’d been last night, was one in a million.

  Tristan’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he picked it up with a groan when he saw it was his brother. “Hello?”

  “Hey, bro, got the goods?” Xander’s voice was hushed, as if speaking about something illicit.

  “If by goods you mean normal food that people eat to survive, then yes, I’ve got the goods,” Tristan said irritably, still trying to keep himself from looking for Kelsie’s face.

  “God, you’re no fun sometimes,” Xander muttered.

  “Where are you right now?” Tristan asked, hoping his brother would save the excursions for the evening as they’d agreed.

  Tristan had learned a long time ago that trying to contain his twin brother was like trying to hold back a tornado. So instead, he just insisted on a few ground rules that, usually, Xander held to.

  When he felt like it at least.

  Xander yawned absurdly loud, forcing Tristan to pull back from the phone momentarily. “I’m in my prison cell, being a good boy. I’ve got this fascinating new e-book on the evolution of lawn care. You should check it out.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Tristan responded flatly. Stating that they didn’t have a lawn would only give his brother more ammunition.

  Xander, amused by the sound of his voice, continued to list off the other mundane things he’d been up to.

  Granted, after a hundred years, a lot of things started to feel mundane.

  Tristan held the phone in one hand and the bushel of bags in the other while he weaved past people, looking for a good quiet place to call the taxi service.

  As he approached a nearby construction site, he ducked under the heavy steel scaffolding that stretched high off the ground adjacent to it, thankful it was a weekend and the construction workers seemed to be off for the day.

  He froze when he heard noises. Above him.

  Meanwhile, Xander droned on, trying to bother him. “And so my Pilates went way longer than I expected, so I experimented with a little bit of bonsai after, and—”

  When Tristan looked up, ignoring his brother, his jaw fell open in shock. “Xander, I gotta go.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  A couple floors above him, a small person was clambering up the scaffolding, looking around before climbing a short ladder to the next level. The person wore blue jeans and had a distinctly blue backpack and short, brown, curly hair.

  Kelsie.

  Not believing his own eyes, Tristan moved away from the building as he stared upward, trying to catch another glimpse of the woman. But she moved quickly, rounding the corner of the front of the edifice and disappearing along the side, out of view from the rest of the pedestrians.

  He moved past them to follow her, unable to take his eyes off her every move.

  “Are you even listening?” Xander droned on. “This is important shit, Tristan.”

  “I’ll call you later,” he replied, tapping the end button and pocketing his phone.

  The small, curvy woman was a good thirty or forty feet off the ground now, high above him. He couldn’t call out to her. That could draw attention. But he couldn’t just sit here waiting for something to happen.

  As construction sites went, this one wasn’t particularly safe-looking. And without any workers here to ward her off, the whole thing set off alarms in his head.

  What the hell was she doing taking risks right after he’d just saved her?

  More importantly, why was he walking around the building to watch over her, when he should clearly just alert some sort of security person and go home?

  Tristan had no answer to either question, so he simply continued to watch carefully as the most infuriating human he’d ever met reached the top of the construction.

  * * *

  Kelsie held tight to the metal railing on the scaffolding as she peeked around another corner, heart racing with anticipation.

  Astray was notorious for doing art at construction sites. Both because they were often left abandoned on weekends, but also because his work would just disappear as unsuspecting workers there covered it up with their remodeling or painting.

  Kelsie could tell she was on the brink of some discovery. She could just feel it zinging along her skin.

  Or maybe that was her adrenaline, reminding her about how unsafe she was being.

  She’d promised Janet she’d be safe, so she was trying to be careful. Watch her step, not move too quickly.

  Regardless, the last thing she wanted to do was miss a golden opportunity to photograph something priceless that could be gone by the end of the week.

  Besides, if construction workers used this scaffolding, it had to be safe, right?

  Kelsie was high off the ground now, higher than she had ever meant to go. Just wooden platforms below her and a few metal bars all around.

  A few steps ahead, a little metal ladder marked her path to the last floor. If she didn’t find something, she’d crawl back down and give up for the day.

  No harm done.

  A warm afternoon wind whistled through the pipes and wood as she heaved herself up the ladder. On the top, there was no ceiling above her, just a short railing and another bridge that led onto the rooftop of the entire building. From there, she had a breathtaking view of the city.

  Not wanting to walk away from this excursion completely empty-handed, Kelsie withdrew her camera from her backpack, taking a moment to snap a few shots of endless brick buildings, little roads with cars that looked like toys, and people milling about like ants.

  No work by Astray, but the trip hadn’t been a total waste.

  She grabbed her backpack, taking one last look at the sun setting over the city, and then shoved her equipment inside so she could start her descent to street level.

  She’d be home by dark, just like she’d promised her roommate.

  Kelsie went to sling her backpack over her shoulder, but as her weight shifted, the platform she stood on tilted slightly, pitching her forward and away from the building.

  She stumbled, heart lurching in her chest as she caught herself with one hand on the railing.

  The railing, loose and apparently not fastened properly to the rest of the scaffold, creaked and heaved, stopping a few inches away from where it had been. Kelsie was able to stop herself on it, but her ba
ckpack slid off her shoulder, diving down dramatically, carrying her most valuable possession in the world.

  A camera like that took months of saving, maybe years, given what she made at the cafe.

  Amazingly, she heard a clang as one of the backpack’s straps caught a pole and bounced slightly as it hung, suspended over the murderous concrete below.

  Maybe miracles really did happen.

  She heaved a long sigh of relief, so glad her entire livelihood hadn’t disappeared in a heap of shattered plastic and glass fifty feet down. But she couldn’t just leave her camera here. It was everything, her future, her hopes.

  So she leaned forward a bit, hoping to just snatch the strap, get down from here, and call it an evening with a good book and some TV. But it was just out of her reach, just an inch or two.

  Taking another breath, Kelsie held her weight with one hand, then leaned forward a little more, so close to victory and being out of here she could taste it.

  Just as her fingers found the thick strap, grasping it tightly, there was a squeak, then a groan. As swiftly as she could, Kelsie pulled the backpack up and over her shoulder, but not before one of the aged wooden boards beneath her snapped. The floor gave out completely, throwing her off the side as her forehead made contact with the railing.

  Kelsie had only the vague impression of air whooshing past her, as everything went black.

  Chapter 5

  “She looks dead.”

  “She’s not dead. I checked her pupils. She’s just out.”

  Kelsie was awake, but only barely, and her head hurt too much to open her eyes just yet.

  “Yeah… she looks dead,” the first voice said. “I’ll let you deal with that.”

  Kelsie heard footsteps retreating, making the ground thud around her as someone left the room she was in.

  She almost didn’t want to move. Her head was so achy. But she seemed to be alive, so that was something.

  She slowly forced her eyes open, trying to push herself up, and her body groaned against the sudden motion. She was currently lying on a plush gray couch in an apartment that wasn’t at all familiar.

  At least it appeared she wasn’t dead, since she doubted the afterlife looked like a very modern, well-furnished, very spacious penthouse apartment that was as crisp as it was sterile.

  Almost like an art gallery, but with furniture and appliances instead.

  Beneath her, on the ground, was her backpack. She sat up, ignoring the aches in her body as she quickly pulled out her camera, desperate to see if it was okay.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Kelsie jolted at the sound and almost dropped her camera as she turned to a small chair in the opposite corner of the large room.

  A man sat there, leaning forward, his elbows propped on his knees, watching her from behind expensive-looking sunglasses.

  Sunglasses.

  If it was the man from the alley, would she even recognize him?

  He had short, thick blond hair in a masculine haircut that was a bit longer on top. It was tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it.

  Today, he was wearing a tightly fitted tee shirt in a light blue that matched his eyes and stone-washed jeans that hugged his thighs and showed off the incredible amount of muscle he was packing.

  Since he only wore sunglasses, she could at least make out the rest of his face. He had a perfectly straight nose, a hard, symmetrical jaw that was slightly wider than most men’s, and a slight dimple at the center of his chin.

  Plus, lips that might be beautiful and full if they weren’t currently pressed into a frown.

  If she stared hard enough at his darkened lenses, she could swear that she could still make out a hint of vivid blue.

  If it was the man from the other night, how was he there?

  She blinked, remembering how she’d hit her head on the scaffolding. Why wasn’t she dead?

  And where was she now?

  Before she could ask him any of her questions, another man strode into the room from the direction of the kitchen.

  His back turned to Kelsie before she could make out his face, but he had dark-blond hair in the same color as sunglasses guy. It was longer, though, shaggily falling around his face and brushing his nape.

  His back was broad and muscled, clad in a thin black graphic tee that showed off huge arms, which were covered with tattoos.

  He walked straight to the man sitting in the corner and, with a flick of his wrist, snatched off the man’s sunglasses and chucked them to the side.

  The sound of something shattering didn’t bode well for the aforementioned sunglasses.

  “Dude, lose the shades,” the longer-haired man said. “She knows it’s you, and you’re indoors. You look like a creep.”

  “What the hell? You didn’t have to throw them,” the other one said, irritated.

  Kelsie’s heart leaped at his voice, which she recognized this time. It was deep. Rough. But refined and intelligent at the same time.

  Definitely the same as the other night.

  “Oh, you’re awake. Cool,” the one with tattoos said, facing her with an amused grin. Now that she was facing him, she noticed that he had bright-blue eyes like the man who had saved her.

  She blinked, realizing his face was similar as well, though his longer, shaggy blond hair gave him a rougher, less-put-together appearance.

  Were they brothers? Maybe even twins?

  Kelsie sat up, fingers clutching the couch beneath her as she ignored her headache to take in the sight before her.

  Oh God, there wasn’t one, but two of the behemoths in the room with her.

  “I’m sorry for the rude interruption,” the seated one said. “Here, this is for you.” He picked up a plate of something from the end table beside him and walked over to put it on the coffee table in front of her.

  It was a sandwich, along with a glass of water and two little white tablets. And when he extended his hand, her gaze trailed up to his tightly muscled bicep and shoulder to meet those luminous light-blue sapphires he had for eyes.

  “My name’s Tristan, by the way.”

  He was so overwhelmingly beautiful Kelsie could only barely lift her hand from her side to shake his. Her palm and fingers disappeared completely in his grasp, which was as gentle as it was firm.

  “Uh… Kelsie,” she said awkwardly.

  “I remember.” A slight smile curved his lips, showing perfect white teeth. The contact of his skin, warm and almost electric, disappeared when he let go and moved back to take a seat on a nearby chair. “Oh, and this is—”

  “Xander.” The other one interrupted with a casual wave. “Hey.”

  His inflection was entirely different, but it couldn’t hide the fact that Xander’s voice was eerily similar to Tristan’s.

  “We’re twins,” Tristan said flatly.

  Though Xander’s bad boy appearance probably drew a lot of attention, Kelsie couldn’t take her eyes off Tristan, whose eyes pinned her with a gaze so intense she felt she could melt into a puddle right there on the presumably expensive couch.

  Everything about him felt safe. Perfect.

  Trying not to check out his chest and abs in that tight blue tee shirt, Kelsie picked up her sandwich and bit into it, stifling a moan at how good it was.

  “This food isn’t drugged or anything, is it?” she asked a little too late.

  Xander laughed heartily at the question, while Tristan grimaced at the mere possibility of that being the case.

  “No, of course not,” Tristan said, a muscle ticking in his square jaw.

  “See, like I said, sunglasses equals weirdo,” Xander exclaimed.

  Either way, Kelsie didn’t much care as she bit in again. It was absolutely delicious. The fact that Tristan made a mean sandwich just made him that much hotter.

  “How did I get here exactly?” she asked between mouthfuls. Already, the food was helping with her headache.

  “Tristan brought you here,” Xander said, clapping a
huge hand on his twin’s shoulder.

  “And where is here?”

  “We can’t—”

  “South of Deerfield Road,” Xander blurted out before Tristan could stop him.

  Kelsie almost coughed up the bite she’d been chewing, and she covered up her mouth to gulp it down before talking again. “Wait, what? That’s like really south. Like mostly abandoned warehouses and dry cleaners and stuff like that, right? Pretty rough neighborhood for a place like this.”

  “Yup,” Xander replied cheerily, shaking dark-blond hair off his face. “We converted a whole building for ourselves, with reinforced walls and advanced security. It’s very incognito,” he finished, whispering conspiratorially.

  Tristan just watched Xander with an unreadable expression, then went back to looking at Kelsie intently.

  Every time those intense, glowing blue eyes met hers, a little shiver went up her back. Her fingers tingled, and little shocks seemed to travel directly to her center.

  She’d never met anyone who had that impact on her before.

  Tristan appraised her carefully. “Speaking of south side of the city, what exactly were you doing in this part of town the other night?”

  “Aha! So it was you in the alley. I knew it.” She jabbed a finger victoriously at him.

  Granted, it didn’t take a professional profiler to put two and two together, given Tristan’s unique size and build. But still, was he stalking her or something?

  “I’m not a stalker, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re just lucky. Or unlucky, I suppose, given that I’ve had to save you twice now.” His tone was sharp, but he didn’t actually seem irritated.

  “So the construction site… that happened? It wasn’t a dream.” She’d been falling. Then she was here.

  “It wasn’t a dream, but it could have ended in a nightmare.” He folded his arms and sat back in the lounger. “Also, keep eating.”

  She took another bite of the sandwich and a swig of water, feeling physically better with each second but more confused as well.

  “As for why I was there, it’s a secret,” she said carefully.