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I must be falling ill, I think, not in the least excited for my grilled cheese I’d made. I
blame it on the sudden deposits of new memories.
Me sitting on the toilet while texting my family the old lies.
Me going to a barnhouse full of goats and albino gators, and handing Herb two hundred dollars to buy and have Esmeralda delivered.
Just my luck, I’d crap the night away with a ton of cash I’d stuffed in my pocket.
Dammit!
Tossing the sandwich, I slip out the back to find Lucas. Crossing the backyard, and
into the forest, the ground easy to tread due to the three of us using this route for strolls, my wolf to run or as Lucas has done—make it to the tranquil stream. I’m there now in under five minutes. The bank’s soil is damp. Water trickling in a soft hurry through rocks and small pebbles. The scent of rich dirt and foliage is potent. Inhaling as I stand, my feet sinking into the moist ground, I savor the aroma that nudges my she-wolf to come out and want to frolic in the cool water. A thick, tall canopy of trees block out the light, plunging the forest floor into a cozy dimness. I could see fine, though.
I could see that Lucas wasn’t here at all. Something sparkly to the right catches my eye.
“What the...?” Crouching, I sight a trail of gold debris. No, dust. A ton of it speckles
the dirt. Did someone have a freakin’ glitter-palooza without me? Damn them—
Wait.
Wolf nose catches something peculiar. I bring my face closer to the gold dust, knees and
hands are pressing deep into soil, I sniff.
My heart is pounding.
I set aside the nature smells, and instantly I smell Lucas’s breezy salt water scent... and
another.
I drag in a heavy inhale, and I regret I had.
“Gods!” I retch away. Putrefied sweat. Nasty BO. Sour, rotten leaves.
And dirty money.
Feeling my eyes widen, they trek the gold bread crumbs yards out, leading to an exit
towards town. Multiple sized footprints interlaced.
No more hesitations, I follow it, gathering more of my friend’s scent and its increasing
release of it—doing so required sudden movement. Like exercising.
Or struggling.
Hell...
“LUCAS!?!” I yell, spinning, and straining to hear anything.
Nothing...
Realization hit, the same time a new memory did—
Humid air and the smell of taco meat is not a good mixture. But I didn’t care. All my attention was on popping the gum in my mouth and Lucas winning this hand. He slaps it and I cheer, sticking my tongue out at the other people in the claustrophobic room. Eric, the piranha shifter, stands by the wall, cheesing like a fangirl and two gorilla faced men in suits flank a red bearded, gold toothed, green hat wearing fella sitting across the table.
He blanches at the winning cards.
He’s still stuck, frozen, cigar hanging on the edge of thin lips.
The gorillas growl but don’t do anything when I hop off Lucas’s lap and pick up an average pumpkin size pot of gold. Its weight nothing in my happy arms.
“This has been fun, Sammy baby,” I say and wink. Lucas leans across the table, to give Sammy’s immobile hand with three fingers a fist bump.
“Yep. See ya... never!” We laugh and leave the dank room.
I’m suddenly jerked back into the present. Crashing through the here and now as if I’d
been asleep. I run full speed to the cabin, whimpering as the growing possibility ebbs my stomach that Lucas was nabbed right under my nose.
My only thought—where’s the gold?
I tear up the house, screaming in frustration while doing so. This can’t be true. This can’t
be my life right now.
Gods, this is the worst Monday EVER!
Not finding it, not even one coin, I slump to the floor, head buried in my hands.
Where would someone hide gold? At least, what natural places would you put it? The bank? A security box? A dragon’s cave? Under the bed—but I already looked... wait...
A dragon’s cave?
Oh, no.
***
Do it.
No.
Do it!
Hell to the no.
Just do it to cover your bases. ALL OF THEM. Lucas could be getting gold coins shoved up his nasal canal and you’re still standing here, nervous to text a man you’ve publicly embarrassed.
True, I’d been banging my head, willing for the slow-working potion to just provide another memory, an answer, so I don’t have to seek one from Adrian himself considering what I’d done.
Groaning and five more head bangs, I leave the cabin, walking down the gravel driveway, and force my fingers to type and send him the message.
<I MAY HAVE GIVEN YOU SOMETHING EXTREMELY VALUABLE AND NEED IT BACK TO SAVE MY FRIEND’S FINGERS.
An instant reply reads:
>About time. Are you home?
<Heading out of Vida.
>I'll pick you up in fifteen.
––––––––
I don’t appear sane. Shifty, suspicious, you know? Crazy eyed.
A woman who’s internally freaking out that her best friend is being held by a two-foot cretin, and can’t call upon either of her badass friends that include a fairy hybrid, lion, and vampire to save the day because she hasn’t a clue to set things straight and now has to rely on a hot, waaay out of her league dragon for whom she’s expressed great affection for his dick in permanent marker.
Yeah.
I’m totally right as rain.
At the sidewalk, waiting, the inner turmoil overflows when said dragon’s Lamborghini slows, coming to a stop out of traffic.
“Get in, Cheeks.” He smirks. Of course, I’d get a new nickname out of my recent behavior.
“About that.” I relay a full explanation about slowly coming to the conclusion Viper Spit had taken control of my being last night. I refrain from revealing who I had woken up beside or suspect I’d done the nasty dance with no pants with that who. Skipping over that, I tell him about drinking a memory potion to regain the events of the night hours, though I still wait for gaps to be pieced. Adrian didn’t hold back snorts and chuckles and a wide ass grin when I got to finding out what I had etched on my bum.
“That stupid spit drink is to blame, I swear!”
“Well, yeah. That shit will make you do crazy things, darling.” He chuckles, giving me a knowing look. Wouldn’t be the first time I swallowed a liquid that made me do something horribly wrong. Like getting drunk in the presence of a dragon and falling unconscious face first on his dick.
For now I should just drink water.
And quit thinking about his wanker.
“Before you mooned me and my colleagues, you left the pot of gold with the ogre behind Chambers, telling him to give it to me,” Adrian softly explains and points to the backseat. There, the pot of gold doubloons sits with a seatbelt on. I’m grateful he doesn’t laugh anymore when he was talking. He’s nonchalant and cool about it. Here he is, mature and polished sitting next to Ms. Hick who should be arrested for indecent exposure. The realization saddens me, bringing the image of the unknown women to the forefront. They’ve got class and all I do is show my ass. I shake it off—I am, what I am—and continue talking.
“I strongly believe Sammy Three Fingers has Lucas all because the little creep is a sore loser.”
“Ah, yes. That isn’t news. I stay away from what he’s dealing—mostly, everyone does. I haven’t heard he’s done anything insanely gruesome. Just his enormous ego jammed pack into his teeny tiny body likes to push people around when he doesn’t get his way. I’m sure giving back the gold will ensure Lucas’s safety.” Adrian cants his gorgeous auburn head.
“Hopefully.” I groan, using the heels of palms, I rub my eyeballs. A light touch upon my thigh instantly soothes me.
“Kokoa, I’ll help you.”
My hands drop to stare at him. The snug interior seems even smaller. His features were unimaginable. Clear, alabaster skin over a sharp, square jawline. Killer cheekbones. Perfect soft lips that I had the pleasure of kissing. And my favorite—copper eyes that if you stare deep enough, his pupils briefly turn to slits—a sign his inner dragon watches too.
“I appreciate this so much,” I say breathy.
He cocks a side smile, revealing a thick fang. “Of course, darling.” He leans close and brushes those beautiful lips across my cheek. “I knew having you in my life would be interesting... Cheeks.”