Book Read Free

Dragon Mate's Secret (Guardian Dragons 0f Prospect Falls Book 2)

Page 2

by Serena Meadows


  “So, for now, we continue with the patrols and hope that Professor Miller can figure out what the demons are up to before the next attack,” Vincent said.

  “That’s all we can do for now,” Michael said.

  ***Amy***

  Amy looked up from the computer screen, grinning at the man behind the counter refilling her coffee cup. “Looks like breakfast is on you this morning,” she said, looking at the empty plates.

  “Lady, I’ve seen a man twice your size have trouble putting away all that food,” he said. “But a deal is a deal.”

  “It was wonderful,” she said, “and I’d be insulted if you didn’t let me pay for it, but maybe you could answer a question for me.”

  “Sure, if I can,” he said.

  She pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of Molly. “Have you seen this woman? She would have been traveling through here on her way to the city.”

  The man studied the picture, then shook his head. “Don’t think so; would have remembered a looker like that one. Is she your sister? You two kinda look alike.”

  Amy wasn’t sure she saw the resemblance but took the compliment as it was meant. “Thank you, but no, we’re only friends,” she said. “She moved away from New York a few months ago and we lost touch. I’m trying to find her.”

  The man studied her for a second, then said, “Seems like a lot of trouble to go to; maybe she just didn’t want to be friends. I mean, it happens.”

  “Not without a word,” Amy said, shaking her head. “I know it sounds crazy, but I keep feeling like she’s in trouble.”

  “What’s all this?” the man asked, looking at her computer screen.

  “Before Molly left, she activated her location sharing with me, and this is the last place that registered on her phone,” she said, pointing to the map. “I’m not sure what she was doing way out there in the middle of nowhere, but that’s where I’m going.”

  “I’ve heard some strange things about Prospect Falls. People tend to avoid it, drive right through,” the man said. “You be careful.”

  Amy packed up her belongings and left some money on the counter, the man’s warning echoing in her head. She filled up on gas, got snacks and drinks, then got back on the road, the blue sky above her stretching as far as she could see. According to the map, she had miles of empty land to cross before she even came to the little valley where she’d find Prospect Falls, and hopefully, Molly.

  As she drove, all the possibilities of what could have happened to her friend crowded her brain, the worst making her cringe and wonder if she was making a mistake. But no one had been willing to listen to her except the very pricey private detective who wanted to charge her thousands of dollars to do what she was doing now. So, she held onto the feeling that Molly needed her and let the miles roll by, planning her first move when she got to Prospect Falls.

  The sun was just beginning to set when she drove into the town, but she fell in love with the little community as soon as she turned onto Main Street and saw the medieval-themed buildings. If it hadn’t been for the cars lined up along the street, she would have sworn that she’d stepped back in time, but the lights gleaming in the windows and the traffic on the street shattered the illusion.

  When she spotted an old-fashioned sign that said lodging in big letters, she couldn’t resist turning into the long driveway that led through a tunnel of trees. She emerged into a clearing with a row of little castles lined up in a circle around a huge pond. Her body tingling with excitement, she stopped in front of the office, hoping that there would be one available.

  A bell above the door chimed when she walked in and a young woman came out from an apartment behind the high counter. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I was hoping you have a vacancy for the night,” she said, looking around at the modern furnishings, a little disappointed.

  “This time of year, the place is pretty empty,” the woman said. “Don’t get many tourists around here.”

  Amy knew that the woman was fishing. “That surprises me, given this is such a nice little town,” she said.

  The woman studied her for a second, then handed her a white card. “Fill this out, and then we’ll see about finding you a cabin,” she said, then disappeared through the doorway, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  When she finally stepped through the doors of cabin number five after dodging a few more questions from Miranda, the woman who owned the cabins, she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. The cabin was all that she’d imagined it would be, designed to invoke the feeling of being in medieval England; she felt like a little girl again.

  Throwing herself down on the huge canopied bed, she stared at the sheer fabric, feeling like a princess in a fairytale, then jumped back to her feet and explored the rest of the cabin. After unpacking, she put on her walking shoes and headed for Main Street, ready to explore what little there was of the town and find someplace to eat dinner. The cabin had a little kitchen, and she’d have to stock it with some essentials the next day, but for tonight, she just wanted to enjoy the unexpected charm of Prospect Falls.

  Molly wasn’t far from her mind as she strolled up and down the street, looking into store windows, and she wondered if her friend had purposely made the detour to town instead of getting lost like she’d first assumed. It was certainly a charming place, but one that she felt sure that Molly would have mentioned, especially since it added a lot of time to the drive.

  Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that she was at the end of the street until she looked up and saw that the sidewalk ended in a dirt path. It seemed strange to have suddenly reached the end of town, but beyond the huge house she was standing in front of, there was nothing else. Then she saw the old wooden sign swinging from the porch; it seemed to glow in the late afternoon sunlight and before she knew what she was doing, she’d pushed open the gate and climbed the stairs.

  Chapter Three

  ***Michael***

  Michael pulled into his mother’s driveway looking forward to a home-cooked meal but dreading the conversation they’d have to have about Mary Beth. He wasn’t ready to start the long process of finding a mate and wasn’t about to let his mother push him into it, especially right now. They had demons to worry about, and he had plenty of time; if Mary Beth was still available when he was ready, then he would give her some consideration. Until then, he was happy being single.

  He was rehearsing what he’d say to his mother when he opened the door, but the words escaped his mind when he walked into the kitchen and found her snuggled up next to Arthur at the kitchen table. His mouth hanging open, he stared at them, the feeling he’d had at the airport surfacing again, but this time he didn’t shrug it off.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy,” he said, feeling childish.

  His mother and Arthur jumped apart like they’d been caught doing something wrong. “Oh, Michael, I didn’t hear you come in,” his mother said, getting quickly to her feet. “Dinner is ready; just give me a few minutes to dish it up.”

  Arthur got to his feet. “Let me help,” he said.

  “Nonsense, you’re a guest,” his mother said, shooting Michael a dirty look.

  “She’s right, Arthur; sit down,” Michael said. “I’ll help her.”

  Once they’d all heaped their plates and satisfied the worst of their hunger, Arthur said, “Margaret, you are quite the cook; this is delicious.”

  Michael couldn’t disagree with him, and the food had helped to cure some of his bad humor, but he still didn’t like the way Arthur was looking at his mother. “So, Arthur, have you come to any conclusions about our demons?” he asked.

  “I’ve spoken with both Gabriel and Vincent,” Arthur began, setting down his fork. “From what I’m hearing, your demons are changing, evolving, I guess you could say.”

  “We figured that much out,” Michael said, trying to be patient. “What we need to know is why and how to stop it.”

  “Yes, of course,” the
professor said, holding up his hand. “But there is a more important question: who or what is causing them to evolve? Demon’s don’t have that capacity on their own, so something is making them stronger, fueling them, so to speak.”

  “What kind of something?” Michael asked, his stomach sinking.

  Arthur shrugged. “That I can’t tell you yet. It could be a witch, although we’ve lived in harmony with them for decades, or another shifter with a source of magic,” he said. “Either way, we’re dealing with black magic is my guess, and that’s not something to take lightly.”

  Michael wanted to curse but ground his teeth together instead. “There’s one name that comes to mind,” he said.

  Arthur nodded. “Sebastian Wright.”

  His mother gasped. “That can’t be true; he’s on the council,” she said. “Why would he be involved?”

  “Mother, everyone knows that Sebastian’s family has wanted this land since Adam’s got the grant,” he said. “It’s a perfect plan: stir up the demons, make them stronger and smarter, then Adam can’t control them, and he gets removed as guardian, so Sebastian moves in.”

  “I’m afraid that’s what I was thinking,” Arthur said.

  “So, what can we do to stop him? We don’t have any proof,” Michael said. “The council will never listen to just speculation.”

  “I need to see one of the demons, get close enough to get inside it,” Arthur said.

  “Arthur, you can’t do that,” his mother protested, putting her hand on his arm. “It will kill you.”

  He shook his head. “That’s my special talent, Margaret: I can read demons,” he said. “That’s why I do what I do.”

  She looked like she didn’t believe him but sat back in her chair. “So, you’re going to go demon hunting?” she asked.

  “That’s what it sounds like,” Michael said, sharing some of his mother’s concern. “Arthur, you do know how dangerous these things are, right?”

  “Son, I’ve faced demons much worse than what you have here,” he said. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  Michael sighed. He’d been so happy to be home, but it looked like he was leaving again. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning, then; I need to take care of a few things tonight,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at the hotel around eight, and we can have breakfast downtown before we leave.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll make breakfast here for you both,” his mother interjected. “When I picked Arthur up this afternoon, we moved all his things over here.”

  “Here?” he asked, trying not to come up out of his chair. “Do you know what people are going to say?”

  Her eyes filled with a look of defiance. “I don’t care; it’s silly to make Arthur stay at the hotel when I have all this room,” she said. “He’s in the bedroom on the first floor.”

  Michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out; then he realized that his mother was a grown woman capable of making her own choices. “It’s your reputation,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  His mother started to follow him to the door, then sank back down in her chair, and he felt a little guilty, but he was reeling from the discovery that his mother wasn’t just his mother, but a woman. The shock of seeing the attraction between the professor and his mother, the way they leaned into each other, the casual touches, made him wonder how he’d missed that side of her before.

  She’d never acted that way with his father, so it was a bit shocking to see her fawning over Arthur the way she was, and he wondered just how far things had gone between them. That thought made him queasy, so he pushed it away; he’d take Arthur away tomorrow and hopefully when they got back, whatever was brewing between them would have cooled.

  ***Amy***

  Amy stood looking at the doorknob, wondering what the house must have been like when it was new and full of life. When she reached out and took hold of it, a little tingle of electricity shot up her arm and she quickly let go, then reached out once more, hand shaking, and grabbed it again. This time, nothing happened, so she opened the door, the tinny sound of bells announcing her presence.

  She looked around the small entryway and waited for someone to greet her, but the hallway remained empty. “Hello, is there anyone here?” she finally called, taking a few steps toward an open doorway.

  When she was greeted with only silence, she started to turn around and leave, but the smell of old books drew her deeper into the house. Poking her head into the first doorway, she saw that it was filled with books of every shape and size. They stuffed the floor to ceiling shelves that lined the wall, old mixed with new, and she was tempted to step inside and browse.

  But she had the unmistakable feeling that she shouldn’t be there and turned to go, thinking that she’d come back in the morning. Just as she took the first step toward the front door, a young girl came out of a room farther down the hall. When she saw Amy, she gave out a cry and fled back the way she’d come, the book she’d been holding tumbling to the floor.

  Only seconds later, an older man came scurrying into the hallway. “I’m sorry; I hope my niece didn’t scare you,” he said. “We weren’t expecting anyone.”

  Amy felt again that she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry, I thought you were open,” she stammered. “I’ll just be going.”

  “Wait, since you’re already here, I suppose it would be okay to let you look around,” the man said. “I’m Horace, and that little lady back there is my niece Beatrice.”

  “I’d be happy to come back tomorrow,” Amy said. “I’ll be in town for a couple of days.”

  “We don’t get that many tourists around here this time of year,” Horace said, leading her down the hallway.

  It was the second time someone had made that comment, and she knew that she’d have to come up with a story to explain her presence in town, and soon. When they stopped in the doorway of a room identical to the other one at the front of the house, Horace paused and looked at her, clearly not planning to let her go any further without some explanation.

  Cornered, she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “A friend of mine came through here a few months ago. She couldn’t stop raving about it, so I thought I’d see it for myself,” she said, slipping past him.

  “She came through here?” he asked. “On her way where?”

  Amy casually picked up a book and opened it. “She was moving,” she said, then to her relief, a little voice called out from the kitchen.

  “I see,” Horace said. “I’ll just leave you to browse.”

  When Horace was gone, she looked around the room, wondering how such an unusual assortment of books had found its way there. But she didn’t dwell on it long; the books began to work their magic on her, and her curiosity faded. As she browsed, visions of being curled up in front of the fireplace, a book in her hands, filled her mind. She’d always loved to read, especially tales of knights and dragons—the more romantic, the better—and she held several in her hands that she’d never seen before.

  Unsure where to find Horace now that she was ready to leave, she stood in the hallway listening for the sound of voices, rewarded by the soft sound of his niece. Thinking that she’d just knock on the door, she approached it, but then noticed another doorway she hadn’t seen before. It was cracked open a few inches, but through the crack, she got a glimpse of something shiny and couldn’t stop herself from slowly pushing the door open.

  “Oh,” she breathed, looking around the room, unable to stop herself from stepping inside.

  “I see you’ve found our treasure room,” Horace said, startling her.

  Amy knew she should feel bad for snooping but could only stand staring for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to stammer. “I saw the sword and couldn’t help myself. What is it all doing here? I mean, are you a collector?”

  Horace nodded. “I suppose you could say that. You see, I’m in charge of all the props we use during the Prospect Falls Medieval F
estival every year,” he said. “Some of this has been around as long as the town, and some of it has been collected over the years.”

  “It’s wonderful,” she said, then turned reluctantly away when she heard a voice from the room next door. “I suppose I should let you get back to what you were doing.”

  “Yes, well, I’m afraid my niece isn’t very fond of her homework,” Horace said, shaking his head. “I see you’ve found a few treasures in my mess.”

  “You have an amazing collection,” Amy said. “I’d love to come back again, with an appointment, of course.”

  Horace studied her for a second, then pulled a business card out of his pocket. “Call me and we’ll make arrangements. You can pay for everything then,” he said, then led her to the door.

  Back on the street, she turned and looked back at the bookstore, watching as the lights went out one by one. It had been a strange experience, not necessarily unpleasant, but slightly unnerving, and she suddenly wasn’t sure that she wanted to go back. Her stomach rumbling, she turned away and headed back toward the soft lights of town, craving the company of strangers.

  Chapter Four

  ***Michael***

  Michael sat, legs crossed at his ankles, staring up at the night sky, wondering what they were doing. After unpacking their supplies and making dinner, he was ready to go hunting, but Arthur didn’t show any signs of moving. Instead, he’d made himself comfortable in one of the rocking chairs and was staring at the lake, puffing on a pipe he’d pulled out of his pocket.

  “Nice night,” he said, a match flaring to life, lighting up his face for a second.

  “Yes,” Michael said, beginning to lose his patience. “A good night for hunting, which is what we’re here to do, unless I missed something.”

  Arthur puffed on his pipe a few times. “That will come,” he said, getting to his feet. “For tonight, I’d just like to get used to my surroundings, get a lay of the land so to speak.”

 

‹ Prev