Dragon Next Door: Forgotten Dragons Book 1

by Bolryder, Terry

  “Fate,” she said softly, walking over and extending a hand to him to seal their bargain. “I like that. I’m in.”

  He shook her hand, marveling at how soft and small it felt in his. To his surprise, he felt her jerk him forward, using his hand to pull him in close. Then she leaned up on her tiptoes, and her lips lightly grazed his.

  His eyes closed for a minute in shock and pure bliss, waves of something he hadn’t even imagined flooding him at the innocent touch.

  Her free hand moved to his chest, and her lips claimed his more freely.

  Maybe not so innocent.

  He let himself fall into the kiss, feeling her warmth, her softness, inviting him and caressing him in ways he’d never felt.

  When she pulled back, it felt as if she had taken his soul with her.

  She touched her lips with a little smile. “That’s how I seal a deal with such a hottie. Plus, I never thanked you for all the times you saved my life.”

  He had no words, so he just watched her as she headed for the vault exit, skipping lightly.

  She looked over her shoulder. “Now, if you’ll show me to my room, I need to call my job and my roommate. I have some Astray pieces to find!”

  Chapter 7

  The next day as Kelsie rode the bus next to Tristan, she had to try hard not to laugh.

  She knew he didn’t like to be noticed, but this was a little too much.

  Last night after leaving a message for Janet, she’d eaten a quick dinner and then headed to bed in the most luxurious bedroom of her life. This morning, she’d been glad she usually had a change of clothes in her backpack when she was out scouting.

  Today, she wore one of her old blue college sweatshirts, jeans, and gray Converse.

  Tristan was wearing… well…

  She leaned in next to him, nudging him because he was sitting so stiffly, so tall. “Is all that disguise really necessary?”

  He tugged on the ridiculous fake beard he was wearing, hiding more of his face with it. On his head, a floppy hat obscured his hair, and his eyes were, as usual, covered with dark sunglasses. “Yes. I always go out like this.”

  She covered her mouth with one hand, trying not to giggle. “Why?”

  “I can’t be seen.”

  “Are you some elusive billionaire? I mean, you and Xander seem pretty isolated where you live, and you said you never bring people home. Does that have to do with why you’re hiding?”

  Tristan frowned. “I just don’t want draw attention.”

  “Well, to be honest,” she said, unhooking the beard and pulling it down off his ears. “This draws more attention than it diverts, I think.”

  He tried to take it back, but she held it out of reach.

  “Look, you can keep the rest on, but the beard has to go. Everyone is going to notice it.”

  “Right.” He tried to reach for it again. “And what do you think they notice? A guy with a fake beard. Nothing else.”

  She rested her hand, and the beard, on her lap for a moment thoughtfully. “Why are you so anxious, Tristan?”

  “I’m not anxious,” he said sharply.

  “Yes, you are,” she said. “But you have no reason to be. You’re a handsome, normal guy.”

  He lowered his sunglasses so the bright blue shone at her. “I’m not normal.”

  “What, are you some government experiment in sexiness?”

  He flushed. “No.”

  She shoved the beard in her backpack, zipping it up so he couldn’t reach it. “Trust me. You’re better without this. Xander would agree.”

  “That’s not a good thing.”

  She laughed “Sometimes it is. Seriously, Tristan, it’s okay. You don’t need all these disguises. What do you think is going to happen?”

  He sighed. “Look. I can’t really explain it, but it’s important that I’m not conspicuous. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “But if you don’t want to be conspicuous, at least the beard belongs in the backpack.”

  “Fine, but people are going to look at me.”

  And then he looked to the side, and his handsome profile was so adorably ruffled that she couldn’t resist reaching up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  He turned to her, looking flustered, and she just smiled.

  “People will look at us,” he said nervously.

  She glanced around the bus where everyone was on their phones and minding their own business. “People don’t care as much as you think they do. But if they are looking, give them something to see.”

  She reached around his neck and drew him down, and though he let out a mumble of disapproval, his lips melded over hers, instantly heating her to her toes.

  She’d never felt like this when she kissed someone. Last night in the gallery had shocked her as well, how erotic it had been.

  Somehow, she just couldn’t resist him.

  He gently grabbed her shoulder, pushing her back to break the kiss. To her surprise, he brushed her curls back, a somewhat tender look in his eyes as he did so.

  Was there something going on between them? Why did it feel like there was?

  “We shouldn’t,” he said carefully.

  “Why?”

  He looked like he didn’t even know. His gaze dipped to her lips, and he sighed. Then the bus dinged as it pulled to a stop. He looked up, almost in relief. “We’re here.”

  “Right,” she said, trying to compose herself. How could just one kiss, one touch, totally obliterate all sense of reason for her?

  He was helping her. He was doing her a favor, and she was going to help photograph his art in return.

  As much as she liked kissing him, wanted to know more about his mysterious life, she needed to keep her head straight.

  This was just a temporary arrangement, nothing more. She’d do well to remember that.

  * * *

  “Yeah, this is a bit sketchy,” Kelsie said, folding her arms and looking at the rectangular rise of old warehouses and factories around them.

  “Understand now why I wasn’t going to let you go alone?” Tristan led the way, keeping a watchful eye out while she followed him toward the end of the block.

  Her kiss still burned on his lips, made him want to press his fingers there, as if to somehow remind himself it wasn’t a dream.

  He took another glance at her over his shoulder, thankful she didn’t seem to be watching, interested instead in getting a better look at the dilapidated building across the street with mostly broken windows.

  Tristan could feel his body get tense around her, eager to get closer.

  “I didn’t know anyone even lived past the bridge on the southwest end of this area,” she exclaimed, brown eyes locking onto his.

  Tristan looked away immediately. “Most don’t. If they do, it’s not someone you want to meet.”

  Her arm brushed his, wrapping around it as they reached the corner and made a left, and Tristan tried to not walk too stiffly.

  “Well, then I’m glad you’re taking me here. Though, you’re still going to tell me how it is you really know where Astray’s art is. Maybe it’s all the moonlighting as a superhero?” she said playfully.

  “Ha, I’m the Fort Knox of secrets,” Tristan replied. “Besides, I already told you he works in my neighborhood.”

  “Well, prepare to be burgled, Mr. Fort Knox, because I’m coming for whatever it is you aren’t telling me.”

  He laughed, realizing he was doing that around Kelsie more than he had in his whole life before that. “All right.”

  Silence settled over them as they walked the rest of the way, only the sound of cars on adjacent streets and, somewhere far off, a helicopter’s blades whirring to disrupt the stillness.

  Halfway down the block, a service entrance for one of the buildings on their right opened up next to them. Two heavy chain link gates, reinforced with sheet metal and lined with barbed wire, opened away from them. The gate itself was forcibly tethered to pipes or other mou
nts on the walls of the building, chained to them so the entrance could remain open.

  But by the look of the dilapidated building, the small road hadn’t seen access in quite a while. And the gate, stuck in a perpetually open state, hugged the brick walls on either side.

  “Spooky,” Kelsie said with a pretend shiver. Her tensed fingers around his bicep told Tristan it wasn’t all pretend, though.

  “Quite. Which is our enigmatic artist’s M.O., don’t you agree?”

  “True,” she said thoughtfully. Tristan took a step forward, and Kelsie stayed on the sidewalk.

  He approached the left half of the fence, noting there were two chains threaded through the links to secure it to the wall. The chains were starting to corrode, and Tristan took a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking.

  “Is it here?” Kelsie asked, starting to sound excited. It was infectious.

  “I guess we’ll find out,” he said, tugging at one chain. Without much effort, it fell free.

  The other, though, was stubborn. And while Kelsie was on the other side, checking out the other half of the fence, he subtly tore one of the links on the chain, snapping it between his fingers so she wouldn’t see, then pulling the chain off as if it had been broken all along.

  Easy peasy.

  “Well, that’s convenient,” Kelsie said over his shoulder, making Tristan almost jump.

  “What?”

  “That both the chains were rusted open.”

  “Oh, right,” Tristan said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

  “Oh my God, Tristan, this is awesome!” Kelsie’s exclamation rang off the walls around them as the gate pushed all the way free.

  On the backside of the sheet-metal gate, which a moment ago had been flush with the warehouse brick wall, Tristan could finally see what they’d come here to find.

  A hidden painting.

  Kelsie clapped her hands together, making another sound of excitement and scrounging in her backpack for her camera immediately. A second later, the snap-snap sound of the shutter going off made a small smile tug at the corner of Tristan’s mouth.

  This picture was simpler than most of the others, an abstract piece in red and black, rising up like two flames drawn together.

  Tristan hadn’t seen this one in a while.

  “This is so cool,” Kelsie said, continuing to take more photos as she repositioned to get different angles. Once she was done, she put the camera away and just took a long look at it, letting out a sigh.

  “One more step in the right direction?” Tristan said, watching Kelsie intently.

  “Step? This is a leap! There’s no chance I would’ve found this one on my own.” Her grin was wider than he’d ever seen it, making his entire body go warm at the sight of her.

  “I’m glad it makes you happy.”

  “So what do you think it means?” Her eyes were on the gate again, looking thoughtful.

  “What?” Tristan asked.

  “The painting. Everything has a meaning to it, right?”

  “I have no clue. It’s so abstract it could mean a lot of things. An allegory on the rise and fall of late-century sentimentalism. A representation of the ennui of a disenfranchised generation, full of hopes but bereft of solutions.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then laughed. “You got me. I like when you talk all art history to me.” She eyed the painting again. “Whatever it means, I like it. It just feels… special.”

  “I’m glad you got a chance to get it on film,” he said, wanting to watch her more than the painting.

  Then a phone buzzed, interrupting the moment, and Kelsie fumbled for her backpack, producing her phone.

  “Who is it?”

  “My roommate, Janet.”

  “I thought you called her.”

  “I did, but she didn’t answer so I left a message. She knows I’m safe.” She pressed the screen as she finished, raising the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  Even without her phone being on speaker, the small alley was so quiet he could hear Janet’s voice on the other end, talking animatedly about having not seen her friend and needing to “vet” the people she was staying with.

  Fair enough, given Kelsie’s propensity to find herself in trouble.

  “Uh-huh. Yeah,” Kelsie responded. “I don’t know.” As she spoke, her beautiful brown eyes locked with Tristan’s, and he could tell that whatever question Janet was currently asking, Kelsie was getting up the gumption to ask too.

  “I need to meet these people hanging out with my Kelsie!” Janet’s voice came through loudly on the other end.

  “How about we go to a bar?” Tristan said, thinking out loud.

  Kelsie watched him with surprise.

  She covered the microphone on her phone for a second. “Wait, what?”

  “A bar, the one on Charleston Avenue. How about we meet there? Does she have a car?”

  Kelsie paused for a second, then nodded.

  “That way she can meet us in person and know you’re not staying with an ax murderer,” Tristan said.

  “I thought you didn’t go out. The whole ‘inner sanctum’ thing.” Kelsie kept her hand over her phone speaker.

  “I think I’ll make an exception. I don’t want your friend showing up on my doorstep with a baseball bat because she’s overprotective of her roommate.”

  More importantly, he didn’t want to lose Kelsie. Not when she’d only just showed up in his life out of nowhere.

  Kelsie looked like she didn’t know what to say when Janet started talking louder, wondering where Kelsie had disappeared to and whether she was alive.

  “I’m here,” Kelsie said. Then she told Janet about the bar idea. She, thankfully, said yes, and they decided on when to meet up.

  If it meant he could spend even one more minute with her, Tristan would go out.

  And this time, he’d leave the disguise behind.

  At least most of it.

  Chapter 8

  “He’s a bit odd, isn’t he?” Janet looked to the bar where Tristan was sitting next to Xander, who was trying to remove his brother’s hat, to little avail.

  “A little,” Kelsie said, fighting back a smile as she watched him. Just spending time with him was starting to be dangerous. He was gorgeous and thoughtful and lonely and—

  “Uh-oh,” Janet said. “I can see the fixer in you working now. You want to save him and—”

  “I don’t,” Kelsie insisted. “If anything, he’s the one who keeps saving me.” Her eyes softened as she watched Tristan slump back over the bar, Xander waving his floppy hat triumphantly before slamming it down on his own head and ordering another drink.

  Meanwhile, Tristan glanced around nervously as if he expected trouble to break out at any moment.

  “So… they just live in some repurposed building? And they’re twins?”

  Kelsie nodded, sipping her strawberry daiquiri. “Yes.”

  Janet rested her cheek on her hand. “And you’re just going to stay with them for a few nights? Alone?”

  “I trust him,” Kelsie said.

  “You trust too easily.” Janet looked back to the bar where Xander was trying to force Tristan to take a drink. “You know, they are kind of adorable. You don’t usually see men that big. Or muscled. Or handsome.”

  Kelsie grinned. “Want me to introduce you to Xander?”

  Janet pushed her glasses up on her nose, shaking her head officiously. “No. No, thank you. Playboys aren’t my style.”

  “I don’t know if he is a playboy,” Kelsie said. “They both seem to stay inside a lot.”

  “Are they hiding from something?”

  “I think they just like their privacy. If I was rich enough to just live off my investments, I probably would stay home a lot too,” Kelsie replied, taking another sip of her drink.

  Tristan finally wrested the drink from his brother and threw it back himself, looking triumphant. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed, and his eyes g
lowing since he’d removed his sunglasses.

  “Gosh, they have pretty eyes, though,” Janet said. “So unique.” She narrowed her green eyes. “Maybe they’re aliens.”

  Kelsie almost spat out her drink. “No, they are not.” She gave Janet a glare. “They’re nice guys. I promise.”

  “They’re coming this way,” Janet said, looking suddenly nervous. “Oh my God.”

  Janet was pretty outgoing with women. Smart, outspoken, sharp. But when it came to guys…

  “It’ll be fine. I’ll introduce you.”

  Xander was leading the way toward them. Today, he was wearing a leather jacket over a loose tee, plus worn dark jeans tucked into motorcycle boots. With his dark-blond hair pushed off his face and his dashing smile, he caught attention from every woman he passed.

  Tristan walked beside him, wearing a button-up blue plaid shirt that was rolled up at the cuffs, emphasizing huge forearms and beautiful hands. His short hair was styled up and messy, drawing attention to his cut jaw and beautiful features.

  He’d even taken off his sunglasses, which made it impossible to look at anything but his beautiful eyes.

  “So this is the roomie?” Xander asked, sticking out a broad hand to Janet. “Nice to meet you.”

  Janet just stared at his hand before gaping up at him for a moment. “What?”

  Kelsie fought back a laugh. “You two should dance.”

  Janet’s eyes went wide, and she shook her head quickly at Kelsie, almost losing her glasses. But before she could say anything, Xander’s hand encompassed hers.

  “That’s a great idea,” he said in a rough, sexy voice that even Janet couldn’t say no to.

  With a helpless look at Kelsie, who simply smiled, Janet let Xander lead her out onto the crowded floor.

  Kelsie looked over at Tristan, who’d just taken a seat next to her. “Xander doesn’t seem to have any trouble with being around people.”

  “That’s the problem,” Tristan said, watching him grumpily. “He doesn’t think about consequences, and when he does, it’s too late.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you I can’t really talk about it,” Tristan said.