Dragon Ugly (Dragon New Year) (4 page)

Pop music pumped through speakers that had been attached to tall poles. Brent almost stopped when he saw a dessert waffle cart offering half-off orders. His stomach grumbled despite the meal he’d had an hour ago. Fletch seemed to be out of it. He kept yawning and his gait was slowing down. Several times, Brent had had to look back and stop, waiting for his friend to catch up.

“Come on, we have to get some stuff before work. Do you need more food?” He hoped Fletch would say yes, as he eyed the waffle truck. The line around it was getting shorter. Brent started to edge toward it.

“Go to the waffles. They’re calling you. I need to sit down. If they have coffee, get me some? I don’t know why I’m so tired.” Fletch moved away, toward an empty bench.

Brent knew exactly why Fletch was so exhausted. They were all running on fumes. They had gone into work early to help set up new tables to accommodate all the reservations they were getting. They were always either getting called in early, or asked to stay late these days—sometimes both. Then there was the effort of trying to memorize all the changes in the menu—from the gluten-free options, to the vegetarian specials, to the special paranormal diets they had started to accommodate. On top of everything, tensions were building between rival factions—the packs, prides vampire covens, witches and wizards—all of whom came to the Dragon’s Lair.

It was exhausting playing all the different roles: waiter, bouncer, referee, and mediator. Brent could feel another headache growing in his skull. Stress began to build up inside of him. He tried to shake it off, but all the emotions sloshing around in the crowds were starting to wear away his mental shields. His dragon was getting antsy, seeing threats everywhere. He’d promised Tor that they’d go out and get groceries, and he had to stop by the shoe store to pick up some new sneakers to help his aching foot. Then there was doing his laundry, and he had to get everything done before work started again.

His stomach grumbled and in his mind he saw his dragon blink at him, a question in its eyes. Ah yes, there was also the issue of his mate, wherever she was. He didn’t want to think about that just yet. He stepped up to the booth and placed his order, then slid to the side as the next customer approached the window. As he waited, he looked around and spotted a store that boasted aromatherapy products. He was a bit low on incense, and wondered if he had time to slip in and check out their selection.

Once the food was ready, Brent grabbed the bags and headed to Fletch. All of a sudden, a tingle raced along his spine like an icy finger. He stopped dead in his tracks as his face became flushed. The dragon let out a roar and steam billowed out of Brent’s nostrils and open mouth. Fletch came rushing up to him and grabbed his arms. “Brent, you okay?”

Brent blinked. He felt stuck to where he was, holding up the line for the waffle truck. He ordered his body to move but it didn’t obey. His dragon roared again. Fletch took hold of his arm and dragged him over to the bench. Taking the food from him, Fletch forced Brent to sit down. “Brent, answer me,” he demanded.

It took a moment for Brent to find his voice. The dragon was pushing, shoving, crashing against the barrier that separated it from the outside world. Pain rocked through his arms and legs, ricocheting around his chest and stomach, as if he was going through a shift. Scales rippled under his skin. He fought to keep the change from coming, but the dragon wouldn’t be denied. It continued to claw its way out, sending threads of fire along his muscles. His chest hurt. Each breath was labored. Shards of pain spiked through his lungs with each pull of air. He could hear a crowd in the distance.

“Please, stop this
,
”
he begged his dragon.

“So close
,
”
the dragon responded.

“Not here
,
not now,”
Brent insisted.
“Later…not the time.”

The dragon just blinked.

Ripples of pain danced along Brent’s shoulders and back, as if his wings wanted to break out. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Please, not this way. We can’t meet her this way, please. Not here
.
”

Again the dragon blinked. Thankfully, the pain began to fold back inside Brent until it became a dull ache in his arms and legs, and all around his torso.
“Thank you
,
”
he whispered.

“Find her
,
”
the dragon commanded, before disappearing into darkness.

“Brent?” Fletch crouched down in front of him, worry in his brown eyes.

“I’m…okay,” Brent managed to rasp out.

“You sure?” Fletch accepted a napkin and some ice from one of the people from the waffle truck.

“Yeah. Just an urge to shift. Been too long.” Brent sat up and winced, as his bones cracked and his muscles popped. The shifter’s ability to heal was activated, and soothing warmth flooded his body. But it didn’t erase the memory of what had just happened. Humiliation colored his cheeks and sank through his chest as his ears burned. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to shifting right there in public.

“Shifting here? You do know how dangerous that is, right? It’s not even the full moon. You scared the shit out of me and everyone around here.” Fletch sank down next to him, concern filling his brown eyes. “I thought for sure that you were gonna cause a mass shifting right here. Hell, my dragon wanted to shift right along with you.” Fletch laid a hand on Brent’s shoulder. “Do you need a break? We’ve been working a lot, pushing ourselves the last few days. You want some time off? I’ll cover for you.”

Brent gave him a wan smile. “I appreciate it. I do, but I just have to have a talk with my dragon is all. Let’s eat and get going before Tor thinks we bailed on him.” He ignored the concerned look that Fletch gave him. “I’m fine, really. Eat, before I take yours and make you go stand in line.”

Brent tried to look for the trigger as he ate. When he’d been hanging out near the waffle truck, he had felt nothing. It wasn’t until he had started thinking about the aromatherapy store nearby that he’d felt that tingle again. He swiveled around in his seat to look at the store once more and felt the dragon slither under his skin, scales brushing smoothly under Brent’s flesh. Did she work there? Was she in there right now? Brent’s curiosity was aroused. He was tempted to step into the store and look around. He memorized the name of it: Scentify. Then he finished up his meal, stood and stretched. His muscles felt tense and stiff. A bit of walking around was just what the doctor ordered.

“Come on, Fletch, we’ve wasted enough time as it is. Tor will be chomping at the bit to get things put away and done before we go in for work.”

Fletch nodded. “But if you feel anything, even a quick thought of shifting, just go back to the car and relax until it passes, OK?”

Brent promised himself that it wouldn’t happen again. “Yes, I promise,
dad
. Let’s go. I’ve got a bunch of laundry that’s
this close
to getting up and walking themselves over to the washing machine.”

Fletch gave him a small smile and chuckled.

They managed to get the grocery shopping done quickly, and loaded everything into the car, but Brent’s feet were screaming at him. He wanted to take off his shoes and give feet some air, but Fletch was pushing them to get it over with so he could get home and take a nap, so they headed to the shoe store at a quick clip.

Chapter Four

Carissa was pretty sure she was going to go crazy. The phones hadn’t stopped ringing and there was no end of customers coming into the shop and buying things, filling out comment cards, making suggestions and swearing that they’d tell all their friends about Scentify.

Jez and Anna were overjoyed; Cari was just trying to process it all. They had had enough stock to last them half way through the week, but she’d had to call their suppliers to get more delivered.

“I think we should celebrate,” Jez declared as she danced around Cari’s office. “Tonight I think we should go to the Dragon’s Lair and live it up. Who knows when we’ll be able to get another chance to celebrate such an event? Our shop is full! Full!”

“Yeah, and I think we should leave the shop, go out to eat, then come back and open up again. What’s everyone in the mood for?” Anna asked.

“I’m not too hungry, but I think I’ll check out some of the sales. I saw that Red’s was having a half-off sale.” Carissa grinned.

Jez shook her head. “You and your shoes. Okay, Anna and I will go eat and pick you up something. You indulge your inner shopaholic.”

They locked up, and Carissa walked over to Red’s Shoes, ignoring all the sale signs and trying to block out the clashing music from the overhead speakers and the shops. She opened the door and sighed in relief as she started to walk down the aisles. From a display of purses, the scent of leather wafted up her nostrils to tease her. Carissa could practically feel the smooth, caress of buttery soft suede against her palms. Her fingertips yearned to feel the thread pattern on leather.

She itched to try things on, to touch the fabric and just lose herself for a good few hours trying to figure out which bag would go with which outfit. Instead she made a beeline for the shelves of shoes. If she came back with a pocketbook rather than shoes, Jez would yell at her for not telling her that the purses were on sale too. She relaxed even further, all her cares and worries drifting away as she selected a few shoes to try on.

But the joy was short-lived as her wolf began to pace and whine. She didn’t understand this behavior. Maybe a snack would calm it down, but she couldn’t leave just yet without getting a few things. She gathered up her choices and headed toward the checkout, only to crash into something hard and tall. Her body shook with the impact. She looked up and up and up to find a pair of concerned sky-blue eyes staring at her.

Carissa blinked. A sense of dizziness assaulted her, and she felt like she needed to sit down and gain her bearings. The air around her became thin as she struggled to breathe. Her heart seemed to speed up and then slow down and then race again. Her body temperature began to rise and blood slid downward, filling her groin. She shifted from one foot to another as she felt her pussy lips thicken and her clit swell. Sweat beaded on her brow and upper lip. Carissa began to worry about her health as her knees turned to jelly and her limbs weakened. All of her thoughts disappeared as she began to drown in those azure pools.

“Are you okay?” The rich tone of his voice had a slight rasp to it.

Carissa’s gaze slid down to his mouth and settled there. The bottom lip was fuller than the top in a perpetual pout. Straight, bright white teeth were visible, with a hint of the tip of his pink tongue between them. He was saying something, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Her wolf’s whining had become so loud it was difficult to hear anything but that noise.

“Quiet
,
”
she ordered, and the wolf’s noises diminished. Carissa took that moment to get her bearings. She brushed her bangs to the side, doing her best to appear nonchalant.

“Are you okay?” the man repeated. He blinked down at her and she found herself smiling up at him.

“Of course. Why would anything be wrong?” The words left her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Flames filled her face, and she felt sure her cheeks looked like rosy apples. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m fine.” She looked away, praying for her face to cool down, but her gaze skittered back to the man, and then away again.

She fought with herself, willing herself not to look, afraid she’d stare and embarrass herself more. She needed to go, and now. She made to move around the man, but her feet didn’t budge. She looked down at her shoes, ordering them to start walking, but they didn’t respond. His body-heat beat against hers, adding to the temperature in the store. Carissa dared to look up at him once more.

Her gaze snagged on his long, straight nose. The nostrils flared, as if taking in her scent. She licked her lips as she lowered her gaze and took in the thickness of his neck. His skin was golden perfection, totally unblemished, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. She wanted to lick a path up the side of his neck. Would he taste salty, with the tang of sweat?

A breeze from the door opening wafted his scent toward her. She had expected him to smell like sunshine and dirt, but he didn’t. She leaned her head forward and inhaled deeply. The man’s scent had a soft blush to it, more watery than earthy, but there was a hint of spice in his cologne. That one sniff wasn’t enough.

She edged forward and leaned toward him this time for a good whiff. Carissa strained her calves as her body bent towards him. What the hell was she doing? She tried to stop herself but her body refused to listen. She rose on tip-toes and got close to his collarbone. She stared at his smooth, velvety skin, and felt a sudden urge to play the tip of her tongue along that shallow indentation.

She fought to move back. Her wolf nudged her forward from within.
“You bitch!”
she scolded.

“You want him too
,
”
the canine responded, and refused to let her move away.

Carissa didn’t want to admit it, but there was a desire—a need—to cuddle close to this man and cover herself with his scent.

The man didn’t even move away; he seemed to edge closer as well, until the tip of her nose was only a hair’s breadth away from his shirt. She took in another breath, pulling the scent into her nostrils, and memorizing it.
“God, he smells so good.”

Her wolf gave a happy yip, agreeing with her. She wanted to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, press against him and absorb his warmth. A soft growl rumbled up his throat, a similar sound answered within her. It caused a cascade of need to crash through her body. Her nipples tightened to thick peaks and her stomach muscles contracted. Her vaginal walls clenched as liquid desire dampened her panties. Shocked, she tried to stumble back, but again was frozen in place by her damned wolf and her treacherous body.