“Mudfucker, sonuvaprick!”
Denarrion Goldencoat snarled at the chair slowly emerging out of oak and tried not to break the tools he held in his hands. His frustration made him particularly clumsy today and he didn’t need to add to it by breaking his favorite equipment.
A fucking blind date. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Essentially an arranged marriage. Well, not yet, but close enough.
The breathing lessened some of his fury and he returned to the chair. When he damn near snapped one of the back support rods, he set the tools aside with exaggerated gentleness and took a step back. Destroying the chair would only piss him off more, no matter how cathartic the destruction might be.
He retreated to the work sink to wash his hands and the water soothed some of his angst. He dried his hands and pulled his glasses off to rub his eyes. He didn’t really need them, but he’d been told they made him look educated and scholarly. They certainly brought him plenty of women. The ladies couldn’t seem to resist the geeky charm of a bespectacled man with a Brooklyn accent, even out here in Redfield.
The neatly trimmed mustache and goatee doesn’t hurt either. He snorted, laughing at himself as he grabbed a broom to sweep up the chips of wood he carved that morning.
Denarrion enjoyed his fair share of women. At just over a thousand years old, he’d cultivated the skill for attracting a willing partner whenever the urge came. And still managed to have no love-children out there.
And thank the Mother for that.
He had no interest in a family or marriage. His parents’ relationship illustrated everything wrong with having a long-term mate, and he had no desire to follow their example.
Which is why this blind date is such a stupid idea.
Denarrion loved carving furniture, skiing in some of the gnarliest resorts around the world, shark diving, and jazz music. His interests didn’t include blind dates with dragon widows so he could make little dragons with her. Or living forever in a loveless marriage like Mom and Walter. Ever since his father destroyed the last demon in a near fatal assault as Chicago burned around them—ever hear of the Great Chicago Fire?—his parents had been uncomfortable roommates.
Fuck that! I’m not gonna mate with someone just because it’s my duty.
Sawdust wafted around him in lazy plumes, making him sneeze as he stared out the window. His father insisted it was time he found a mate. Yeah, so I can bring more dragons into the world to defend against the Underworld demons. Waltarrion Goldencoat used to be a highly respected and decorated warrior of the dragon race.
Heavy on the used to part.
Walter’s highest priority had always been protection of the planet and he reminded his son of this, sometimes monthly. According to him, finding a mate and making more dragons equated the utmost importance. But the rigid beliefs on mating for the good of the species turned Denarrion’s stomach.
Too bad he’d learned why he shouldn’t defy his father the hard way. So, he avoided Waltarrion instead.
I’m not running, I’ve a found a peaceful solution.
Denarrion shook his head, ignoring the stink of the lie even when he hadn’t uttered it aloud. He pushed away from the sink and took his time cleaning up the floor, allowing the scents of the wood to cool some of his anxiety. Working with wood and creating something beautiful from it gave him his greatest satisfaction. He’d structured his life around that kind of pleasure.
But that’s all over now, isn’t it? He swept up and dumped the sawdust into the large compost bin before going back for more. What if this Widow from Colorado doesn’t like furniture? What if she’s just as rigid as Walter?
Given his father’s approval, there was a better than even chance the Widow from Colorado agreed with Walter’s views on how dragons needed to behave. Denarrion didn’t mind staying in his camouflaged shape. He enjoyed the pleasures to be had in human form, but he resented being told how he should or shouldn’t act as a dragon amongst humans. No woman, no matter how beautiful or sexually attractive would influence him.
He’d just finished packing up his tools when his cell phone rang with the distinctive “buh-buh, buh-buuuuh…buh-buh-buh-buuuuh” of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Charlorrion’s ringtone.
The Widow from Colorado must’ve arrived.
Had she brought her brats with her? Mother of All, he hoped she wasn’t all about having more children to “further the great dragon race among humans.” He didn’t care what his parents said about the wonderful gift of children. He wanted nothing to do with little kids when he was supposed to be thinking about mating. With sex involved, his mind definitely wasn’t on children. How did one keep a hard-on when thinking about diapers and cleaning up baby vomit?
“Hey, Charlie. What’s goin’ on?”
“Hey, Denny. You got a minute to talk?”
“Sure. What’s up?” Denarrion sat down on the carved bench inside the door.
“Lissandra Charforest is here. We thought we’d invite you over for brunch.”
He scowled, but tried to keep his voice light. “Thanks, but I already had breakfast this morning and I got a lot to do today.”
Charlorrion snorted. “Come on, Denny. I know you. You haven’t had a decent meal in three weeks, and Torri’s making her Italian sausage quiche.”
Denarrion’s mouth watered, but he shook his head. “Really, thanks, but no. I gotta get these chairs out of here before the shop starts harassing me about ’em.” He sold furniture at a local shop in downtown Redfield, fetching good prices to keep him solvent. And out of my parents’ place.
An exasperated sigh gusted into his hear from the other end of the phone. “Seriously? You’re gonna hand me that excuse? I’m pretty sure you’re just avoiding Ms. Charforest.”
“Hey, we’re not scheduled to get together until tonight. It’s not my fault she got in early.” He paused as he narrowed his eyes. “Is she hot?”
“You’re a real dick, you know that?” He could hear Charlorrion’s scowl. “It’s a wonder you’re still single.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Whatever, jackass. If you want to know what she looks like, you’ll have to come over to see her. Like tomorrow. If you say yes and are a no-show, Torri will string you up by your entrails.”
Denarrion laughed. He could imagine Torriandra following through with her threat, despite her delicate looks. “Yeah, yeah, promises, promises. All right, I’ll be there tomorrow. I should have most of my work done.”
“You better. Or I’m gonna introduce her to one of my firefighter buddies. You know Hollis Lupinsky. He’s a werewolf and loves playing with fire.”
Despite his less than enthusiastic interest in the Widow from Colorado, Denarrion scowled. “Good luck with that. I hear she’s all about having more baby dragons. Can’t do that with a werewolf.”
“How would you know what she wants? You haven’t even met her. You have no idea what her kinks or preferences are.” Charlorrion gave a theatrical sigh. “I guess you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Have a good one.”
“Charlie—”
But the line had gone dead. He stared at the phone in his hand, debating if he should head over to Charlorrion’s place right now, or make the self-righteous bastard wait a bit. But his curiosity ate at him. What were the Widow-from-Colorado’s kinks?
He let his gaze rest on the half-finished chair. There’s no way I’m gonna get this done now. Sighing, he shoved the phone in his pocket, grabbed his keys, and left the workshop, locking the door behind him.
His life was perfect. When he needed sex, he got it from any number of sources. Human diseases couldn’t touch him, so selection of partners became easy. What the hell did he need to mate and get married for? He liked his simple life and his solitude. No woman in creation could change that.
****
Lissandra woke to the scent of something savory cooking and warm sunshine streaming in the windows of her room. Despite her daughters’ messages the night before, she’d slept soundly and woke with a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in years. Today’s the day. She’d meet Denarrion Goldencoat and see if they were compatible.
Hopefully more than that.
She rose and headed for the shower, shaking her head. She never expected to love anyone after Mikelorrion’s death, and she wasn’t sure she could. But she wanted to find a friend and companion to share the long centuries with her. She’d mourned her husband and wanted another chance at happiness. Maybe not delirious-head-over-heels bliss, but comfort and support for sure.
She hoped Denarrion would be that kind of guy.
She dressed in jean capris and a V-necked t-shirt with a smiley face on it along with the words, “Crazy is relative.” Definitely relative. She hadn’t decided if coming this far to have blind date was adventurous or insane, but she didn’t mind finding out.
She stared at herself in the mirror, noting a few silver hairs and the lines around her eyes. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a real adventure. She thought having dragonets would be enough. But now that Kress and Luce had matured beyond toddlerhood, Lissandra was ready for more.
Checking the mirror one last time, she nodded sharply and descended the stairs into the kitchen. Torri stood at the counter making toast while fending off her husband, Charlorrion. He teased her with little kisses and touches, and Lissandra’s throat closed. She missed those little intimate exchanges between mates, the special moments when children or guests didn’t intrude.
Which is what you’re doing.
She hesitated at the doorway, wondering if she should return to her room when Charlorrion looked up.
“Morning, Lissandra.” He stepped away from his wife and leaned against the counter with a smirk. “Sleep well?”
“Yeah, actually, I did.” She narrowed her eyes in mock-suspicion. “Did you pump something into the air of my room?”
Charlorrion looked startled and Torri snagged a mug hanging from a hook below the cupboards before she filled it with coffee.
She offered a warm smile. “Glad you slept well. Would you like some coffee?”
“Uh, yeah, coffee would be great.” Lissandra sank into a chair at the table, wondering at Charlorrion’s new silence.
Torri handed her the mug of steaming black gold. “So, what are your plans for the day? Charlorrion starts his shift at the fire station this afternoon, and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. And I have to help set up for the Memorial Day Craft Festival this weekend.”
“Oh, uhm, I guess I was planning to get together with Denarrion, but other than that, I hadn’t thought.” She sipped her coffee as Torri pulled a quiche out of the oven. “Oh, and if you have Skype, I’d like to call my kids and see how they are.”
“Oh, sure. I can set that up on the computer right now.” Charlorrion ducked out of the kitchen
Lissandra raised her eyebrows. “Did you pump something into my room last night?”
Torri had the grace to blush. “Not exactly. I said some mantras to the Goddess to bring you peace and calm, and She often grants my prayers. You weren’t drugged or anything.”
“Wow.”
Lissandra ignored the stab of jealousy. The Goddess hadn’t answered her in a long time. That could be because I’ve hid from Her, too. Yeah, Mikelorrion’s death had driven her to hide from a lot of things, including her calling as a Warrior Seer. No, I’m done with that. Seeking out the evil energy of demons and destroying them had tainted her spirit until she could barely care for her children. She took a deep breath. That’s behind me now.
“I’m sorry. Your energy seemed erratic so I thought it would help. I should’ve asked.” Torri gave her an apologetic smile. “Let me get you some quiche.”
Lissandra grimaced. “You know, if my energy is too all over the place, I can always stay at a hotel in town. I don’t want to mess up your sanctuary.”
“Nonsense.” Torri waved her objections away as she served the quiche. “We’re honored to have such a warrior in our home.”
Lissandra paused. “Warrior?”
“Oh, yes.” Torri tilted her head. “We’ve heard about your history in seeking out demons and sending them back to the Underworld. Your exploits are well known in this house.”
“Oh. Good.” She wished her people would forget about her past. The events of her youth and hunting demons were some of her worst memories, and led to horrific nightmares if she dwelled on them. “Thank you for the compliments, but that’s in my past. I’m not that dragon anymore.”
“Ah, it’s like getting on a bicycle after many years, yes?” Torri dipped her head with a smile. “It’ll come back when it’s time.”
What if I don’t want to go back to it?
Lissandra nodded and tucked into her breakfast to avoid answering. Charlorrion returned to the kitchen, but his lips tightened and his brows lowered as he settled into the chair beside her.
“You’re all set to meet with Denarrion today, yes? And after, I thought we could all get together for dinner.” Torri laid a plate of quiche and toast in front of Charlorrion.
“Yes, that sounds good.” The savory quiche turned to dust in her mouth with the thought of encountering Denarrion Goldencoat so soon. He’s the whole reason I came to Redfield. True, but something felt off, like she hadn’t gotten the full story. We’re going to start a courtship, right?
“Good glory, Charlorrion. You look like you’ve eaten too much cabbage. What has brought on such a sour visage?” Torri poked her husband with a flirtatious smile.
“Denarrion.”
Lissandra stilled as Torri frowned. “What about him?”
“He’s, uh, a little busy with work today. He said he’ll be by tomorrow.”
Torri lifted her chin and stared her husband down. “What about tonight? Did he not say he’d meet with Lissandra tonight?”
Charlorrion hunched his shoulders in the face of his wife’s anger. “Yeah, I thought that was the deal, but he said he’s too busy.”
Relief and disappointment hit Lissandra simultaneously. On the one hand, she was glad she could have a little more time to get used to the idea of a dragon courtship. On the other hand, what kind of a guy couldn’t uphold his end of the deal to meet?
“You call him back right now, Charlorrion Ravenwing.” Torri brandished her finger in his face. “You tell him Lissandra Charforest might not be the high and mighty Goldencoat warriors, but her name is spoken with honor and reverence in other circles, and he’d do well to treat her with the respect she deserves. Call him, Charlorrion.”
“It’s okay, Torriandra.” Lissandra finished her coffee and took her plate to the sink. “Really. Blind dates aren’t easy to get your mind around in the best of times. It’s fine if I don’t see him until tomorrow. That’ll give me time to get to know Redfield.” She gave them a smile. “I think I’ll take a walk.” She held up her phone. “I’ll have my phone if anything changes.”
“Are you sure? Charlorrion can call Denarrion back.” Torri scowled.
“No, no, it’s all right. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.” She headed for the mud room to put on her shoes.
“I might call him anyway, but as long as you’re exploring, try the hiking trails overlooking the reservoir.” Charlorrion followed her. “It’s beautiful up there with all the wildflowers and new growth.”
She nodded as she opened the door. “I’ll check them out. Thanks.”
“I’m really sorry about Denarrion. He’s usually more friendly.”
She shrugged with a rueful smile. “It’s okay. Since this blind date wasn’t his idea, I can understand his reluctance. I’ll see you all later.”
She closed the door on his distressed expression, trying to shove her misgivings aside. I’d be hesitant, too, if someone arranged a blind date without my say-so. She took a deep breath and let the tension flow out of her.
The morning sounds enclosed her in simple joy. Bees and crickets competed with the rattle of the deciduous trees in the wind. The sun already topped the trees and the heat rolled through the open spaces, but the shadows beneath the trunks held the cool air.
Best stick to the shaded areas.
She set off down the street of old houses straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She’d arrived in Redfield in time for Memorial Day Weekend, and the residents had decorated with buntings and flags. Her internet research of the town had listed the festivities starting the next afternoon. The annual Memorial Day Craft Festival promised live music and outdoor movies.
Maybe I can catch a movie this weekend. Her steps faltered a little as she recalled the times she’d gone with her husband. It won’t be the same without Mike.
No, it wouldn’t, but it had been three decades since he’d died. While it was a drop in the bucket in the life of a dragon, she was ready for a new chapter. She didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life. She wanted more than just friends to see her through the tough times. And back me up with the kids.
The houses gave way to forest and a game trail pierced underbrush to her left. She followed it, winding northward into the woods along a steep stream valley. The shade of the trees enveloped her and she breathed a sigh of relief. The humid heat of the east coast took her breath away.
Give me a Rocky Mountain summer any day.
The trail rose gently along the embankment of the stream and she enjoyed the sounds of the birds chattering away in the canopy. The stream sparkled in the dappled light, chuckling to itself as it tumbled happily over the rocks in its bed. Lissandra eased her strides to keep the heat from clobbering her energy reserves. Though accustomed to hiking around 9,000 feet of elevation, she didn’t want to become dehydrated on a minor incline.
Nothing like a badass Warrior Seer keeling over on a little hill. Yeah, that wouldn’t do much for her reputation.
The trail flattened out and left the trees ahead, and a distinct hum rattled in her ears. She frowned and shook her head, pausing just inside the tree line.
The land opened up to a fire burn scar on either side of the stream valley. She’d encountered hundreds of burn scars over the years, often caused by lightning strikes and wild fires. But something about this one didn’t feel right, as if the fire had unsettled the land and it had never recovered.
What in hellwinds happened here?
She scanned the land for life, but only some sickly-looking shrubs struggled out of the scorched earth. Where were the fireweed, thistles, and Indian Paintbrush? Maybe the fire scar isn’t that old. But it was spring and there were no new shoots or grasses. Even the birds seemed to avoid the open space. The stream disappeared there, sinking into the earth as if to hide itself from unclean eyes.
The urge to use her Sight rose in her chest with insistent warning. Something was very wrong and she’d only be able to fix it if she could See. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to fall back into her Goddess-given gift.
The immediacy of the wrongness hit her the moment she stared at the burn scar. Everything flickered a drab gray-green, as if covered in mold. The edges of the shrubs and grasses appeared fuzzy and she almost stepped out to touch them. But a warning screamed through her head and she held still.
A thick silence pressed on her as if cotton had been stuffed in her ears. Sticky heat and sickness filled her nose and she panted to bring in fresh air. What is going on? Panic built in her chest as the scents of rot and decay suffused her nostrils. She gagged and clutched her throat as she struggled to breathe.
The hum rose in pitch, reminding her of screams from damned souls left in the care of demons. A vision of creatures being burned alive by something blackened and monstrous filled her sight and she clenched her fists to beat it away. Snarling evil turned her way, daring her to step into its stronghold. Evil laughter echoed in the screams.
Dear Mother of all, help me fight this tainted place!
Inhaling despite the cloying decay, Lissandra closed her eyes and reached for the element of fire, buried deep within her soul. Her inner flames roared, burning through her awareness, and cleansing her nose of the rotting stench. The evil laughter cut off, only to be replaced with a high-pitched scream of frustration. She fanned her inner flames, burning away the last vestiges of the encroaching decay.
The pressure abruptly released her, making her stagger backwards into the shade. Lissandra braced her hands on her thighs as she gulped great breaths of clean air.
Holy Mother of all. That was demon trace.
She recognized the stench, both real and psychic anywhere. A demon had been here and torched the place with its evil, denying the land’s recovery. It’s been here a while. She stood up, but kept her eyes closed as she allowed her breathing to come back to normal.
If the burn scar had been caused by a demon, why hadn’t the Ravenwings mentioned it to her? Uh, maybe because you’ve given up being a Warrior Seer? Maybe, but any dragon visiting would need to know about the danger. While dragons could withstand a demon’s influence, even they could be killed if caught unaware. She’d have to speak to them about it.
Lissandra opened her eyes and scanned the fire scar with her Sight. The moldy appearance was gone, though the land still appeared blackened and dead. But here and there, she caught the sparkle of iridescent light pushing up through the dirt. The lines of energy pulsing through the land slowly cleared of the black taint infecting their muted colors.
She allowed her vision to return to normal and everything appeared calm. The usual forest sounds intruded and the wind rustled the leaves overhead. After a moment, she caught the furtive movement of a bird flitting across the open space.
Much better. She patted a nearby trunk and continued along the trail skirting the open land. It wasn’t lost on her that people had avoided the scar. With demon taint, I’d avoid it, too. It had been decades since she’d last used her gift, and she was a little rusty, but she still recognized the signs. She’d have to talk to Charlorrion about it and see if a local Morukai Shaman could help with the healing she’d initiated.
Misgivings flickered through her as her feet carried her toward a break in the woods. What if I’ve been brought here for more than just a blind date? She stopped under the cool trees and considered the thought. Solenarra wouldn’t be that underhanded to get me back into the trade of demon killing, would she?
Her mother had been adamant about Lissandra returning to her calling. But with Mikelorrion’s death, and the need to raise two young dragonets, she’d retired from the Order of Scales, the Warrior Seers of the dragons. She hadn’t felt the need or the inclination to return to the Order, despite Sole’s insistence.
Lissandra shook her head. She’d have to get a straight answer from the older dragon when the kids had gone to bed. Anger fired her blood, but she took a deep breath and told herself to relax. I’m supposed to be on vacation. Sort of.
The trail ended abruptly at a large granite outcrop and a vista opened up in front of her. A large reservoir filled a glacial depression between the forested hills, sparkling in the sunshine. Ah, the Salmon Creek reservoir. The scent of lake water and rich foliage baking in the eastern heat reached her nose as she sat down on rock outcrop in the shade. A red-tailed hawk, disturbed by her appearance, took wing across the shining waters to find an alternate perch on one of the small islands rising from the lake.
Lissandra sighed and tried to enjoy the natural sounds of the forest around her as the remnants of her anger ebbed. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, enjoying the gentle breeze sifting through the branches behind her. She’d take her time, enjoy this trip, and deal with Sole’s motivations later. The soft sounds and tantalizing scents of the early summer forest soothed her concerns. Her mind drifted to thoughts of the girls and her late husband again.
Oh, sa cherro, I miss you, but I know it’s time to move on. She missed his smile and devil-may-care confidence. Mikelorrion had never seemed afraid of anything. She wished she had a fraction of his assurance.
She sighed and rolled her head forward, studying the sparkling flecks of mica in the granite as she mulled over her situation. Am I really doing the best thing for me and the girls by going on a blind date with some stranger?
That was the real question. And Denarrion’s apparent disinterest wasn’t helping. She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. She wasn’t ready to give her heart to anyone, but having a male around to share the days might be okay.
Pretty callous, Lissandra, and it isn’t fair to Mr. Goldencoat Jr. She grimaced and flicked a loose piece of rock off the edge. She did want a friend, a movie-buddy. Hellwinds, even a fuck-buddy would be nice.
“At least then I’d get laid once in a while.”
A surprised gasp and the scuff of shoes against rock startled Lissandra. She whipped her head around to stare at the intruder of her thoughts, her heart pounding. She braced for action and defense.
Until she got a good look at him.
The man stood about six feet tall with short, sandy blond hair. He had a slender build, but the arms below the hems of his t-shirt carried toned muscles.
Wiry. The humorous thought trickled through her awareness and she fought a smile.
He tilted his head, his sensuous mouth quirking in a lopsided smile beneath his neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. Icy blue eyes scanned her with casual interest behind wire rimmed glasses, his gaze warming her body.
She resisted the urge to preen, but still straightened her back as she thrust out her breasts.
What is wrong with me? Lissandra tried to rein in her attraction, but her dragon self pushed to the forefront of her awareness.
He’s a dragon. A growl of appreciation slipped out.
The male hummed with untapped power as if he hadn’t completely discovered his abilities yet, but his aura’s energy glowed with the quality of maturity. At least a thousand years. His unusual beauty excited her and her breasts tingled as her nipples tightened with awareness. His smile widened and he inhaled as if appreciating the change in her scent.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t think anyone would be up here.”
Pleasure sizzled down her back at his sultry Brooklyn accent. Lissandra imagined it could be infused with either bitter sarcasm or dry humor, depending on his mood.
She gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “I followed a path up here. I never could resist the mystery of a good game trail.”
“Yeah, I totally get that.” His lips curled into a boyish smile and she damn near melted.
It’s got to be his handsome, Puckish smile. I’m a sucker for Shakespeare.
“You know what they say about curiosity.”
“It killed the cat, but won the prize?”
He laughed and stepped onto the granite outcrop with the natural grace of a hunting predator. He cocked his head, a half-smile on his lips, as his gaze ran over her body. She shivered with the impact of it.
Oh, Goddess, yes please. Now she just need Her to listen.