How to Date a Dragon (12 page)

Read How to Date a Dragon Online

Authors: Ashlyn Chase

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Fiction

She kissed him again but this time used her tongue. She tasted a little beer and detected some salt, probably from the pretzels, but he didn’t reek. “You’ll pass.”

“Thanks.” He handed her back her phone. “I’ll call you when I can. It all depends on what’s going on.”

“The chief didn’t tell you why they need you?”

“Looks like there’ve been a lot of small fires and some false alarms. I have a bad feeling it’s only a matter of time before we see a big one.”

A shudder rippled through Bliss. “Be careful.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “Always.”

It didn’t help her shake the worry. How he did what he did amazed her. She still had panicky dreams of fire and choking on smoke.

Chapter 9

Zina muttered to herself as she studied a map of Boston. “Stupid human. When I get rid of her, Drake and I can save the species.” She glanced at the bed in her hotel room. “Hell, if it weren’t for her, we’d be making baby dragons right now.”
Ah, agony…

The western dragons were given only a month-long mating window every five years, and it was already two weeks into the month. Maybe
others
had all the time in the world, but if Zina didn’t get pregnant now, it would be a long wait for the next chance.
No
wonder
there
are
so
few
of
us.

The more she obsessed over how unfair it all was, the angrier she got. Scoping out the city had kept her busy for a little while, but now she was anxious to set her plan in motion. Over the past forty-eight hours, Zina had penciled in X’s on the best targets in the area, then erased each and filled in the space with a red marker after she’d set a fire there.

Her goal was to stretch the fire department’s resources so thin that they wouldn’t be able to respond when she eventually went after her final target. The bar where the stupid human worked. She’d watched her for the last two days and determined the bitch lived in one of the apartments over the bar.
Perfect.
Zina had shouted with glee when she’d realized she’d be eliminating her competition’s job and home at the same time. With any luck, she’d snuff out the human’s interfering life.

Zina knew when the bar closed and planned to break in from the back at midnight. Then she’d open all the bottles of alcohol and pour them over anything and everything flammable. The fact that she breathed fire was the perfect cover for arson. She didn’t leave any evidence behind—not so much as a matchstick for investigators to find.

“Drake will never know it was me who killed his girlfriend,” she congratulated herself in the mirror. “And I know exactly what to do after the bitch is dead. I’ll swoop in and comfort him in his hour of need. I’ll show him I understand him the way only another dragon can. If that doesn’t work, I’ll use voodoo.”

She whirled away from the mirror and ran her fingers down her long, bumpy dreadlocks. “Go ahead, girlie. Enjoy him while you can. It’s just a matter of time before he understands and forgives my jealous outburst and comes back to me forever.”

This plan had to be orchestrated very carefully. Nothing could be left to chance, so Zina went back to poring over her maps and choosing her timing precisely.

***

Drake dragged his tired body off to shower and prayed nothing else took him away from his bed for the rest of the night. His pillow beckoned him, and he wanted to lay down his head and kiss it. He hadn’t called Bliss yet, but he was too tired to hold a phone, never mind try to listen and talk coherently. She’d understand.

How the hell had there been so many fires recently? Most were in the middle of the friggin’ night. Some had happened almost simultaneously in the north or west end, and across the river in Charlestown.
All
in
my
district. It can’t be a coincidence.
But how did Zina know in which district he worked? He hadn’t told her.

She
must
have
followed
me.
That in itself was unsettling.
Or, crap… maybe she grabbed my cell phone while I was passed out on the sidewalk.

So far, none of the fires had the usual earmarks of arson. No accelerant. Nothing to make a spark. And since that fire a couple days ago, no one had seen a suspicious person hanging around and watching.
It’s as if she’s deliberately trying to confuse me.

If Drake hadn’t been so tired, he would have spent more time going over the facts, trying to figure out if Zina had something to do with this anomaly and why. He suspected she did.

Maybe
if
I
had
found
a
way
to
let
her
down
gently…
He mentally shook himself. Guilt wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, it was better to know what she was capable of sooner rather than later.

He knew what she wanted. His seed. But if he got her pregnant, it would be too late. A pregnant female had to be protected by her mate. To desert the one extending the species would be unconscionable.

Drake didn’t know anything about the Caribbean dragons. Hell, he didn’t even know there
were
any before meeting Zina, but her Jamaican accent and Rasta name pretty much proved her origins.

How could Zina be pulling this off, if she happened to be the culprit? She either had help, or she was risking being seen in flight. Both were uncomfortable thoughts.

If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have obsessed longer. As it was, he had to get some sleep, so he made himself put thoughts of arson aside and think of something more pleasant. Perhaps if he thought of Bliss, he’d dream about her. A nice erotic dream where he’d feel her soft skin, taste her sweet mouth, and make love to her with the tenderness she deserved…

As those thoughts ran through his head, he realized
he
was the one who wanted to make love… not just have sex.

I
love
her.

The revelation should have made him uncomfortable. That meant he was giving up on his dream of having children, on his promise to his mother, on his species, but the thought didn’t trouble him. Instead, he drifted off to sleep with a smile.

***

Mother Nature paced with her hands clasped behind her back, her mood in stark contrast to the beautiful spring day outside her glass bubble. As if the other gods and goddesses could sense her frame of mind, they gave her a wide berth.

Finally, she halted, threw her hands in the air, and yelled, “What the fuck is going on out there?”

Apollo, probably realizing he was one of the few gods she could almost stomach, approached her cautiously.

“Gaia. Would you like me to summon Mr. Balog for you?”

She snorted. “Balog. What good would he be?”

“Perhaps he’s heard some rumblings among the paranormals in the Boston Uncommon bar? After all, he lives on the third floor of the building and keeps an eye on the patrons for you.”

“You mean my little spy might come in handy?”

Apollo shrugged. “It’s worth a try. After all, these fires are occurring in multiple locations, almost simultaneously. They seem beyond a human arsonist’s capability. We know they generally work alone.”

She blew out a deep breath. “I suppose so. I can’t stand the thought of my beloved city being ravaged by these fires—and if I find out it’s a
paranormal
doing it…” She shook her fist. “I’ll… I’ll—Gaaaah!” A cold wind rushed through the room, causing the gods to pull their togas tighter.

Apollo slapped his hands over his ears, expecting thunder. The other gods wisely decided to stay out of it and carried on with their poker game.

“Fine. Fetch Balog. Let’s see if the little weasel knows anything.”

“As you wish, Goddess.”

“Wait! Bring me that dragon who frequents the bar too—in his human form.”

“But I thought you took away his fire-breathing ability.”

“I did. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss it. Perhaps he’s working with someone else. Didn’t we find out he was related to that asshole who started the Chicago fire over a century ago?”

“Yes. But—”

“But nothing… Bring him to me!”

***

“So, Bliss…” Angie began as she placed the washed and rinsed dishes in the drainer.

Bliss looked away from the pouring rain out the window and wiped dry one of the mugs they’d had their coffee in that morning. “Yes?”

“We know each other well enough now to ask personal questions, don’t we?”

Bliss leaned away and eyed her roommate. “How personal are we talkin’?”

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to know what brand of tampons you use or anything…”

“Since you can just look in the bathroom vanity, that would be a waste of a personal question.”

Angie chuckled. “Yeah. And believe me, I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. What I really want to ask you has more to do with work.”

“Okay. Have at it.”

“You seem to be a really good cocktail waitress. Since you get to live and work with wonderful me, why are you slaving so hard to get your other business off the ground? You seem to spend every free moment on the computer.”

Bliss worried her lip and thought about how to word it for a moment. It wasn’t as if she hated waitressing. In some instances it could be a lot of fun. But working in a bar for the rest of her life wasn’t her idea of fulfillment. How could she say that to Angie without hurting her feelings?

“Well, it’s like this… I used to work at a job I hated. The pay was okay, but my boss was mean and the work was boring. Yet, I continued to work there simply to make the rent. And I should let you know that rent is absolutely essential. If I lived with my parents for one more flippin’ day, I’d have wound up in an asylum.”

“Ah. So you’re not making enough money at the bar?”

“Huh? No, that’s not it. The money is fine. I need a place to live and enough money to pay the bills while I get my portfolio back on track. The waitressing is great for that, and even though my diplomatic skills are tested from time to time, it’s not like being president of the United States.”

“But why is the card business so important?”

“Other than the fact that I love doing it? Well, there’s my sister.”

“Your sister? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yeah, she’s in India. My big sister went and fell in love with a guy from West Bengal. Now she lives there.” Bliss stifled a sigh.
How
proud
would
she
be
at
this
moment, watching her little sister take her original idea and catapult it into the spotlight?

Bliss didn’t even know if India would see the show. It hadn’t aired anywhere yet, of course. The whole thing was taped first and released soon afterward—and did the orphanage where her sister worked even have a television? Her village barely had electricity.

“So what does she have to do with the card business?”

“Oh! Yeah, I didn’t quite connect the dots for you, did I? She started the business. When she decided to move to India permanently, she offered me the gig. It was her baby and I don’t want to let her down.”

Bliss finished drying and putting away the last of the clean dishes and folded the towel. “My sister may have started it, but it’s turned out to be more than that for me. I found it’s a great way to express my snarky sense of humor and stay independent. I love being my own boss. It was such a happy day when I could give my nasty old boss a big raspberry.” She grinned, thinking about the day she quit her boring, frustrating, sometimes revolting tax job.

“Okay, I get that, but you seem so driven. How are you having any fun? I haven’t seen you with Drake in days.”

“Drake’s been crazy busy at work. Haven’t you noticed all the fire engines whizzing past and sirens blaring lately?”

“Yeah… Hey, if you need someone else to hang out with, we could do something together.”

Crap, how can I make her understand?

“I have an important deadline. I’ve got this huge finale coming up. When my building burned, all my work went up in smoke. Actually, it melted, but that’s beside the point. I still have a contract with the show, and if I don’t make good on my promise of delivery, I’ll screw up their ending, lose all credibility—and probably have to pay back the advance money they gave me to produce the designs.”

Angie shrugged. “Okay, I guess I can see what you’re up against. If I can help out in any way… take over some of the chores or anything…”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, but I’d never take advantage of a roommate that way. I need to pull my weight.”

“Well, it seems like you’re pulling a lot of weight everywhere. You’ll burn out if you don’t give yourself a break.”

“Actually, there is something you can do.”

“Really?” Angie perked up. “Name it. I’d love to help.”

“The producers are coming to check up on me in a couple weeks. A little less than two weeks, actually. They like to meet the important people in the finalist’s life. That’s usually the people they’re living with.”

Angie gasped. “Are you saying I might be on television?”

“You’ll have to sign a waiver, giving them permission to use the film with you in it.”

Angie whooped and jumped into the air. She looked like she was headed for Bliss with a headlock of a hug.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
Phew, saved by the fist.

“I’ll get it,” Angie volunteered. She was still grinning from ear to ear. “Anything I can do to help out a TV star.”

Bliss rolled her eyes.

When Angie opened the door, Drake was leaning against the door frame, looking soaked and haggard.

“Drake! We were just talking about you,” Angie said. “Come in.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You were?”

He entered slowly as if they might have been berating him.

“Yeah, I mentioned to Bliss I hadn’t seen you around much, and she said you’ve been really busy.”

He shrugged out of his raincoat. “Not my choice. It’s been crazy lately. Believe it or not, this rainstorm is a welcome relief. A good soaking like this might keep fires from starting and give us a few minutes of peace.”

Angie took his coat and hung it on the coatrack. “Thank God it’s not snow, or we’d be buried!”

Bliss came over to give Drake a kiss and noticed Angie had pulled on her own raincoat. “Are you going somewhere, Ange?”

“Oh, yeah. I have stuff to do, and then I think I’ll go in to work early. You two will have the place to yourselves.” She winked.

“Just don’t tell anyone what we were discussing, okay? I don’t want it to turn into a circus.”

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