Scorch: M/M Gay Shifter Mpreg Romance (Dragon's Destiny: Fated Mates Book 2) (16 page)

“
H
e’s not cranky
, he’s
spirited
,” Ty said, laughing as he wrangled the world’s smallest force of nature, also known as my son, Zach.

“That’s one word for it,” Ben answered, trying not to laugh as he patted Michael’s back. Our calmer son watched his brother’s antics with wide eyes. To my delight, they’d turned into the exact shade as my mate’s. He was sucking placidly on a fist while he rested his head against Ben’s shoulder, his relaxed pose proving that nothing fazed our Michael—not even a houseful of noisy people.

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin before,” Sarah was saying to Wes as she bounced her own son, little Max, on her hip. “It’s kind of fun to have snow for Christmas for once.”

“Snow!” Holly said, running up to her mother wearing a hot cocoa mustache. “Build a snowman?”

“
Another
one?” Wes asked her, scooping her up and tickling her until she laughed. “I think it’s too dark for that, sweetie. And it’s Christmas Eve! We need to get you and Elise to bed so Santa can come.”

“Not bed! Presents!”

“No, honey,” Sarah said, laughing. “Not until tomorrow.”

Her lip thrust out and started to quiver. “Daddy
said
…”

Luke walked in from the living room, looking sheepish. “I thought… they could each open one tonight, Sarah?”

She looked stern for a moment, then broke down and squealed. “If
they
get to open one, then I want to, too!”

We all ended up in the living room, and as the kids tore into their presents I looked around in satisfaction. Our home was filled with the people that I loved. I’d been surprised that they’d all been willing to come, but Christmas had turned out to be the perfect time to get everyone together.

Ty had recently found out that he was going to be deployed to Germany. He would have to leave in a few weeks, and would be gone for at least a year.

Ben was also heading to Europe. It had been almost three months since Ivan had fled back across the Atlantic, but just like my mating bond, the bond I shared with my brother didn’t seem to be affected by distance. I could tell that he was still there, but as much as he blocked me, I could still sense an ongoing interest in my affairs that made me nervous. Anik had contacted an old friend on our behalf, a dragon named Marquis who was even older than he was, and who held territory in the Netherlands. Marquis had agreed to allow Ben into his territory, and Ben was planning on staying there to keep a closer eye on Ivan—indefinitely.

I’d been shocked that he was willing to do that for us, but he’d just shrugged and smiled. “Life is long,” he’d said, blowing off my concerns that he might be stuck over there for years. “And who knows, maybe there will be something there for me that I haven’t been able to find here.”

I thought about how I’d been so drawn to the West Coast over the last year, only to find my Devin there, and wondered if maybe there
was
something waiting for him in another dragon’s territory. There was still so much about our dragon senses that was a mystery to me.

But I did believe in fate.

I looked over at mine. He was fucking beautiful, and at the moment he was laughing with Sarah as he held up the scarf she’d knit for him. It was… interesting.

“I really
do
love it, Sare,” he insisted. “It’s… creative?”

She smacked his shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Okay well, it was my first attempt. Second, if you count the disaster I made for Luke. But we won’t mention that.”

“Well, I’m honored that you, um, thought of me next,” he said, gamely wrapping the monstrosity around his neck. Good thing he didn’t get cold, I thought, biting back my own smile.

Seeing him so happy warmed me more than my dragon’s fire ever would, and as I looked around the room at the circle of friends and family who had come together to celebrate with us, my heart suddenly felt too big.

“I have a present for you, too, baby,” I said to Dev, standing up abruptly and grabbing a little box off the mantle. I’d been saving it for Christmas day, but suddenly I didn’t want to wait.

“I’ve already opened one,” he said, holding up one end of the yarn-disaster to prove it.

“
One
present, uncle Maks,” Elise told me seriously, patting my knee. “Daddy said
not two
.”

“Well,
I
haven’t opened one yet,” I told her. “And really, this is more a present for me than for Devin.”

She looked up at me skeptically, then finally nodded in approval.

I handed the shiny package to my mate, clamping down hard on our bond as I had been doing for weeks to try to keep it a surprise.

“Okay,” Devin said, pulling the paper off and blushing at the attention. “What is… oh. That’s pretty.”

He pulled the little diamond-studded golden egg out of the satin box that it had been cradled in, turning it this way and that and looking a little confused.

“Where did you find that, Maks?” Anik asked, smiling from across the room. “It really does look like one of ours.”

“Ours?” Dev asked, looking up curiously.

“There was a time when our hatchlings really did come from eggs, before we’d been joined with humankind. But that was a long time ago.”

Devin smiled, his hand moving to his flat stomach and his eyes finding mine. “I’m glad things changed.” Then he looked back at the little egg in his hand. “Oh… does it open?”

He found the subtle seam as he said the words, popping it open with a thumb.

I knew he was mine. My dragon had claimed him with fire, but I wanted to claim him in a more traditional way, and as his eyes widened I dropped down to one knee in front of him.

“Devin, I love you, baby. I know how much marriage means to you, and I—”

“YES!” he said, cutting me off as he tackled me. His enthusiasm knocked me on my ass, and I could hear Dane and Ty laughing behind him.

“Wait, love,” I said, for once trying to dodge his kisses. “I have… all these… words… I—”

I finally gave up trying to talk when I realized he wasn’t going to stop kissing me.

“Come on, Ty,” I heard Ben say. “Let me show you how to get these little ones to sleep.”

“Is that even possible?” the soft-hearted soldier asked, following my friend out of the room with Zach in his arms.

Anik and Mikkel were right behind them, and our other friends herded their children to bed with promises of dancing sugar plums and stockings to open in the morning.

“How do you always know everything I want?” Devin asked once we were alone.

Snow was falling outside the dark window, and Luke had flipped the lights off when he left, leaving us bathed in the multi-colored glow of the tree. It felt magical.

“You didn’t even let me ask properly,” I said, pulling him against me.

“You know I get a little impatient sometimes,” he admitted, blushing. “And as soon as I saw the ring, I heard what you were going to say.” He tapped his temple, letting me know that my attempt to block our bond had failed. “It was romantic and sweet and perfect.” And now his eyes were tearing up, and he held my face and looked into mine, letting me see into the deepest part of him.

I loved him.

“I love you, too,” he said, reading my mind. “And the answer, to everything—
always
—is yes.”

I
t smells like burnt beef
.

That’s the first thing I notice as I step out onto the crime scene, and sure, it’s not going to end up in my official report, but
fuck
. It smells like somebody left their steaks on the grill for a week.

“God damn. Smells like your dad’s been cooking burgers out here, McKenna.”

That’s one of the things I like about my partner. He’s one of the few cops I know who isn’t afraid to crack a few jokes at my dad’s expense. Probably has something to do with the fact that Russ isn’t from Boston. Not like me and everyone I know. And Russ definitely isn’t Catholic. I’ve gotten used to his swearing, but when we were first partnered up, I used to look over my shoulder every time he did it, half expecting my mom to just appear out of thin air and shove a rosary into his hands.

So far it hasn’t happened. Thank Christ for that.

Russ shuts the driver’s side door of our squad car, and shields his eyes from the morning sun. It’s a little after dawn and still cold as balls out here. It’s not so bad in the city, but out in the country, without a ton of buildings to block the wind, I can feel the cold slicing right through my jacket.

I can hear dogs barking and the puttering of a truck in the distance. As Russ and I climb a small hill, it looks like
Apocalypse Now
up here. At least a good half mile is burnt. Bare patches where grass used to be. Ash piled up in a line, in what I can only guess was once a fence. And to our right, there’s a huge burnt building. A barn that hasn’t crumbled all the way to the ground yet, but with one heavy snowfall it’ll probably get there.

Russ takes a peek as we pass, and his gloved hand clamps over his mouth.

Great. Guess I’m going to be the one taking an inventory of the evidence.

The truck I heard earlier comes into view. Two dogs are following behind the dropped tailgate, but they stop as soon as they hit the edge of the green pasture, where it turns to dead, scorched ground. Smart dogs. Which makes us the stupid ones, but what are you gonna do?

“This is probably the guy who called it in. You wanna get his statement and I’ll take a look in here?” I ask, knowing Russ is probably thinking of just how he can bribe me to switch up our usual roles. I could let him squirm, but I’ve never been good at playing bad cop. That’s more my dad’s thing.

“Have fun in there,” Russ says, though his expression is relieved and grateful. “Save me some marshmallows.”

“No promises.”

The truck door closes, and Russ goes up to meet with the owner of the barn as I pull out my flashlight and size up what’s left of it. It looks like a deathtrap, and I should probably wait for the fire guys to come back before I go in here, but there’s no telling how long that’ll take. They serve a pretty wide area, same as us. They probably had to pack it in and head to another fire as soon as they got this one under control.

So it’s all on me now, and I step over a fallen beam that was blocking what’s left of the door. All those fire safety lessons must have paid off, because I check the handle first to make sure it’s not hot. But just like everything else out here, it’s fucking freezing, and when I pull the barn door open, the latch seems like the only thing holding it all together. Some burnt wood falls out of the frame, crumbling on the ground, and I wince.

I hope that’s not going to count as tampering with the crime scene, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. This looks like a controlled burn that got out of hand. Way out of hand. So few people live out here that it would’ve taken a lot of effort for somebody to come out, start this fire, and somehow keep it from burning down a twenty mile radius.

It isn’t long before I see what Russ saw. If there were separate stalls in here, there aren’t anymore. It’s just a pile of ash and debris and corpses. Mostly corpses. Suddenly I’m grateful it’s so cold out, because this whole scene doesn’t need to be helped out by the stench of rotting flesh and the loud hum of flies.

Still, I pull part of my jacket up to cover my mouth and nose. It’s a good habit to have, and something I probably got from one of the many germaphobes in my family. Not that a quarter inch of cloth is going to stop anything from burrowing into my brain, but it’s a small comfort as I step over charred carcasses.

I shine my flashlight around, looking for any signs that the fire originated here. If it was arson, this seems like the most likely place. I don’t see anything, but I don’t exactly have intensive training, either. They usually call in an expert for that.

My best guess is that if we follow the trail of burnt grass, we’ll find a compost heap or something else that was being burned on purpose.

After ten minutes of looking around, I’m pretty much ready to get the hell out of this place and tell Russ I don’t see anything that suggests foul play when I hear the door of the barn open suddenly. It scares the shit out of me and my heart pounds in my ears like a freight train rushing through my head. I don’t know what I was expecting or why I’m on edge, but I shine my light toward the door, even though the sun’s starting to throw some rays through the big gaping holes in the ruined building.

It isn’t Russ, and it isn’t anybody I recognize. The man who stands there is tall. Taller than my brother Edwin, and he’s 6’4’’. My light shines on his jacket, and I can see a little sewn-in logo for the Fairview County Police Department. Unless he just up and stole a jacket—and I can’t lie, he looks like the sort of guy who could pull it off—he works for the state.

“You must be Officer McKenna,” he says, and his voice is sort of quiet. Reserved. But I can hear every word.

“That’s what it says on my badge.”

I move some debris aside with my shoe and stay right where I am, mostly because I don’t feel like crawling back over this pit of death for somebody who hasn’t introduced himself. “You?”

“Liam Morgan. I work as an arson investigator for the state.” He flashes a smile and his teeth are a lot whiter and straighter than mine. As the sixth kid, I wasn’t exactly top priority for braces. “At least, that’s what it says on
my
badge.”

My flashlight glints off his laminated badge as he holds it up. Cheeky bastard. I haven’t worked with a lot of the guys on the science side of law enforcement before, but it’s nice to know at least one of them has the balls to give a cop shit.

Introductions made, I step over the crispy critters at my feet like a damn ballerina during a recital and stick my landing right in front of Mr. Morgan. Nice. If he notices the fact that I have all the grace of… Well, of a burnt bull, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Standing in normal people range of him I can see his features better. His black hair is a little longer than what I’m used to, and tied back in a way that shouldn’t really ever be in style, but it suits him fine. His face is made up of sharp angles; his jaw alone could probably cut glass. And his eyes aren’t really a color. They’re like an absence of color. Not black, but grey, like ash. Apparently he’s in the right profession.

“So you’re thinking there’s been some foul play?”

Morgan looks around the barn. He doesn’t seem to need a flashlight. I can see his eyes picking out little details I probably missed. But this is why I’m a uniform cop and he’s a scientist, I guess.

“It’s difficult to say for certain at this point, but it does seem suspicious. I overheard Officer Leroux talking to the land-owner, Mr. Morris. He mentioned a longstanding feud between his family and a competitor about a half mile from here.”

“So, what? Modern day cattle rustling is just burning the whole barn down with the cows in it? Seems counter-productive.”

Morgan starts making his way through the debris. He doesn’t seem nearly as affected by it as I am. He’s cool as a cucumber. Which makes sense, because I realize he’s not wearing a jacket. Just a button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up and a pair of slacks. Maybe the part of his brain that’s supposed to be a little creeped out by stuff like this is just frozen.

“Not if you just want to cripple your competitor’s business,” he says, and I have to give him that.

Standing back with my flashlight pointing uselessly at the spots he looks at, I just hope he’s wrong so I can wrap this up quick.

A
ll I can smell is
sulfur.

It hit me as soon as I stepped out of my car and onto the newly barren ground. It’s barely noticeable to humans. Just the faint hint of something rotten in the area. But as soon as I set foot on the site, it burns my nostrils and makes my eyes water.

There’s no doubt in my mind this whole place was scorched by dragon fire.

And that is a problem.

Humans aren’t aware of our existence yet. As far as I’m concerned, it’s best if they never learn about us. Even if they’ve accepted other types of shifters, wolves and bears aren’t the same as two-ton behemoths capable of razing whole civilizations.

So now as I investigate the barn, I have to pretend I’m seeing things I’m not. As I crouch and fuss over this and that, I have to hope my officer friend doesn’t have formal training in fire science. Because to him, this probably just looks like an accident. There’s no clear start point. No sign of accelerant of any kind. It looks like the wind shifted and a controlled fire became much less controlled during the night.

But I know better.

I could let him continue thinking this is an accident, but over the past three hundred years, I’ve made it my duty to protect humans from dragon fire. He needs to know this could happen again.

But he doesn’t need to know that stepping into this barn feels like a living memory for me.

The placement of the corpses, the way the debris falls over them—I’ve seen this before. I swear I can hear the panicked cries of the cattle, and it’s leaving me a little ill.

Worst of all, I don’t remember falling asleep last night.

I remember sitting at my desk with my laptop propped open. I remember the glare of the screen was giving me a headache. I’d had a glass of port, but nothing more than that. And yet I genuinely can’t remember dragging myself off to bed. The next thing I knew, moonlight was streaming in through my window and my boss was trying to reach me on my cell.

To tell me about this fire.

So yes, I’m uneasy. The human might not be able to sense it, but it coils through me like an endless length of rope wrapping around my insides. It’s not helped by the fact that I saw the massive trenches rent by claws outside, either. Or the fact that this place looks, smells, and sounds familiar. Like I’ve been here before.

Possibly as recent as last night.

A flash of heat rushes through my body as the slumbering beast inside of me rouses. He’s been testy lately. Quick to anger. There are times at work where I’ve had to come up with a creative excuse as to why my co-workers have sometimes heard the
click click click
of something deep inside of me striking together to make a spark.

The last time he was like this, I blacked out for a week and when I woke up, I was naked in the middle of the smoldering ruins of a town.

I’m not going to let that happen again.

“Find anything?” The cop asks.

In my rising panic, I haven’t really looked at him. I remedy that now. He’s still by the entrance, seeming eager to leave. I wish I could just tell him there’s nothing here; no need to keep this case open. But it’s best for everyone if I tell the truth. At least a partial version of it.

“A few things,” I say, running my finger over a smear of soot. “Nothing conclusive enough to show at trial just yet, but enough to keep the case open on suspicion.”

I can practically feel him tense. He’s a handsome man, from what my frantic mind can process right now. That frown now etched into his features doesn’t do him justice. I can tell he wants to say something. Maybe even to challenge me. So I do something I told myself I wouldn’t: I let the dragon take over.

It’s subtle. Very subtle. I approach him in a slow, confident way. I never break eye contact with him. I pin him in place with my gaze and he looks up at me as if he’s in a trance. Dragons have always had this kind of sway over humans. It’s just an innate understanding of the human condition and how to manipulate it. There’s nothing magical about it, unless one considers psychology magic.

For a moment as I look at him, at his green eyes that compliment his russet hair, I see a strength flickering beneath his features. A quiet defiance. It makes my dragon trill, but thankfully the sound is buried somewhere deep inside of me, and I’m able to focus just as Officer McKenna loses his.

He doesn’t break eye contact, but he does tilt his neck just so. I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it. Unfortunately my dragon takes notice, feasting on the column of flesh put on display before our eyes. I suppress a shudder as heat flares through my body. This is a fine time for my primal side to remind me I haven’t fucked anyone in ages.

“I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry,” McKenna says, partly because I put the thought there and partly because he seems uncomfortable having me this close. Though he’s not moving away.

“I’ll have my report typed up and sent to your sheriff this afternoon. Thank you for letting me take a look at the site, Officer McKenna.”

“Like I had a choice,” I hear him mutter as I leave, and my lips quirk into a smile.

McKenna is that fish that thrashes on the end of the line, fighting tirelessly against the inevitable. Thankfully for him, I’m not going to be holding the pole much longer.

Heading down the small, sloping hill, I cram myself into my car and pull my phone from the console. I thumb through my contacts until I find Owen, and tap the green call button before turning it on speaker. Setting the phone back in the console, I turn the key in the ignition as I wait for him to answer.

“You at the site they called in last night?”

He doesn’t waste any time. We’re friends—maybe even best friends—but we’ve known each other for hundreds of years. ‘Hello, how are you’ feels trivial now. And like me, Owen has a radio tuned to the police frequency. It’s how I found out about the fire, and how I suggested the chief send me here.