Dragon Heat (Dragons of Perralt Book 2) Read online

  He had quickly scanned the crowd, looking for anything that might threaten this young lady and her coin. Every part of him came alive, buzzing with energy. He must protect her and the coin. There was no other reason to live than that.

  With the blink of an eye and a casual glance, his life had changed. His life had meaning. Retrieving that coin just might convince his family that he was actually worth something. That just maybe he could match his older brother.

  Stepping away from the wall, he began to follow the woman. A task he found exceedingly enjoyable.

  He’d spent the last three days learning everything there was to know about her. The fact that she had avoided the fate of most young girls on these streets was to be admired. The fact that he found her intriguing was perfectly understandable. The woman was strong, intelligent, beautiful, and had a medallion.

  He would have continued following her. Would have waited until he knew more before approaching her. But, the four men in the alley had forced his hand.

  The thought bothered him. They were after the coin, as well. He knew it in his heart. Who? Why? Was it another beast? Or, merely a random act to retrieve something? Did they have any idea of the power associated with the coin?

  A thousand thoughts flew through his mind. Well, at least now he could match his older brother Drake’s accomplishments. A fact that pleased him to his very core.

  Taking the girl’s arm, he gently led her towards the fountain in the center square. A warm spark jumped between them when he touched her. A fact that wasn’t lost on her, he thought when he saw the shock in her eyes.

  She didn’t resist but accompanied him with a slight frown on her face. She must be wondering about his intentions. Her history had taught her not to trust men like him. A fact that he was going to have to work to overcome

  When they reached the fountain, she pulled her arm from his grasp and took a step backwards. Placing both hands on her hips, she asked, “What do you want?”

  He laughed. “A simple thank you would be nice. I did save you in the alley.”

  She scowled up at him. “I didn’t ask you to. I had it all under control.”

  “My mistake,” he said, fighting to hold off smirking too much.

  “What do you want?” she demanded again.

  “You have something I want,” he said. His insides tensed up. This was the critical point. He could not afford to make a mistake, or she’d run faster than a wounded doe.

  “We’ve already established that I’m not for sale.”

  He laughed again and said, “Oh, Laila. You and I both know, if I wanted that. I wouldn’t have to pay for it.”

  Her eyes flashed with fire. “You arrogant jerk. If you think that I …”

  He quickly held up both hands trying to stop the onrush of vitriol and pure anger.

  “Laila,” he said. “You have a coin in your belt. I would like to see it if I may. That is all.”

  She halted in her tirade and frowned up at him. He could read the thoughts racing through her mind. Who was this man and why did he want her coin? Could she trust him?

  “I assure you, I will not take it. I am forbidden from taking it, in fact. I just need to see it to confirm that it is real.”

  She shook her head. “It isn’t real,” she hissed. “I’ve checked. No one has ever seen such a coin before.”

  “Oh, Laila, if it is what I think it is, nothing is more valuable. At least to me.”

  Again, she hesitated. That frown of hers letting him know she didn’t trust him. Could never really trust him. Still, she refused to act.

  Sighing, he said, “If I had wanted to steal the coin, I could have simply let those men take it, then taken it from them. I assure you, I can be trusted.”

  “Yeah, right,” she mumbled under her breath. But, she glanced around the square to see if anyone was watching. Then, quickly removed the coin from her belt.

  Holding it up she let him look at it.

  A shock of recognition passed through him. The two-headed Dragon, right size. It was legitimate. Just like its two sisters at home. One of the five. He lifted his eyes up to the heavens and gave a silent thank you to whoever had led him to it.

  Swallowing hard, he accepted the fact that this invaluable object was owned by a gutter snipe in a city on the fringes of the world. And, he’d happened upon it purely because he had decided to shop for a fresh apple three days earlier.

  Surely, the magic of his family had led him to it.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, he nodded that she should return the coin to her belt.

  She quickly did as instructed, then looked back at him, as if to ask if he’d always been this insane.

  “Miss Laila Mason, today is your lucky day,” he said. “In more ways than one.”

  She continued to watch him with wary eyes. Ready for any sudden movement towards the coin or herself. Like a hare caught in a trap, she was ready to bolt at the first sign of aggression on his part.

  “Where did you get it?” he asked with a gentle voice.

  Her frown deepened. “It was my father’s,” she said. “It was the only thing I could retrieve when the landlord threw me out of our house.”

  “And, where did he get it?”

  She glanced back to her belt. A tear threatened to form. But then decided better, and melted away.

  “He always had it,” she said. “It had always belonged to his family. They came from the mountains, long ago. He used to say that having the coin made us unique, different.”

  Flint nodded in understanding. The story was as he expected.

  “Why didn’t you sell it? A young girl, alone. I am sure there are many times you might have needed what it could have brought you.”

  “It was my father’s,” she said, as if that answered all questions. “Besides,” she continued, “it was my emergency relief. As long as I had the coin, I wasn’t so desperate I had to sell myself on a street corner.”

  He studied the girl before him. Her deep brown eyes said it all. She had been alone. The coin was her lifeline. Her connection to her family.

  His admiration for her only grew. What her life must have been like. Yet, she had remained free and independent. Yes, she had to steal and scrape to survive. But, she had remained free.

  He dipped his head, acknowledging that he understood.

  “What might I do to obtain the coin?” he asked, holding his breath while he awaited her answer.

  “Sell it?” she said. “I told you, it was my father’s.”

  “No,” Flint replied. “I cannot buy it. I must do something for you. Something unbelievably fantastic. What are your dreams? If you could achieve anything, live anywhere. What would it be?”

  She looked up at him as if he were talking in a foreign language. “You mean like a magic wish?”

  Flint smiled and shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I can’t click my fingers and make your dreams appear. Believe me, I would if I could. But, it must be something that I might do for you.”

  She continued to stare, doubting. Unable to fathom what he was saying.

  “What is your secret dream?” he asked.

  Laila’s eyes grew clouded as she became lost in a make believe world. At last, she focused over his shoulder at the far castle on the hill.

  “A prince, in a castle,” she said, then quickly covered her mouth, as if unable to believe she had said that out loud.

  “Ha!” Flint snorted before he could stop himself.

  Her eyes quickly turned from question disbelief to full on fiery anger.

  He glanced down at her clothes, and then at her dirty face, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Laila, you’ve got about as much chance of marrying a prince as the sun setting in the east,” he said.

  Her brow narrowed as her hands returned to her hips. The fierce look of determination made him want to smile.

  “Well, that’s my price,” she said. “The day I marry a prince is the day you get this coin. Otherwise, good day.”

&n
bsp; Turning, she began to stomp off. Flint quickly caught up to her and turned her to face him.

  Her face had flushed, and a tear had formed for real this time. He had hurt her. He hadn’t intended to. Who would have known this tough young woman had a tender heart? His stomach clenched up into a tight ball.

  “I’m sorry, Laila,” he said. “I didn’t mean that you weren’t worthy of a prince. Personally, I think you are worthy of an Emperor. Only, dressed as you are now, where you are from. These things will not attract a prince. Let alone cause one to offer marriage. You don’t know the things you need to know to capture a prince. Hell, it’s not like there are a lot to choose from. The competition is rather steep.”

  “Then, teach me,” she said as she swiped at her eyes to wipe away a tear. “It doesn’t even have to be a prince. Just someone who is rich enough so I don’t have to worry about where tomorrow’s meal is coming from. Someone who loves me as much as I love them.”

  Flint shook his head. “No, you demanded a prince, and a prince is what you shall have. Those were your terms, and I must abide. But, if we are going to do this, then you must listen to me. You must learn all that you will need to know. Understood?”

  She nodded her head as she sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her sleeve.

  “The first thing,” he said, removing a fine silk cloth from inside his jacket, “is that sleeves and runny noses are not a match.”

  Handing her the cloth, he watched as she blew her nose, then tried to hand the cloth back to him. He shook his head. “No, you keep it. You may need it in the future.”

  She looked up at him, then down at the cloth in her hands, as if trying to understand.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her arm.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, as she glanced at where his hand held her arm. A strange look passed behind her eyes. A look that sent warning signals to his soul.

  “To my home,” he said, “a future princess cannot live in a hovel behind the baker’s. You will live with me.”

  She tore her arm from his grasp, and within an eye blink, her dagger was out and pointed at his heart.

  “You won’t be the first person I cut up,” she said with an angry glint in her eyes.

  “Oh, Laila,” he laughed. “If we were ever to make love. Believe me, you would be a most willing partner.”

  Her eyes narrowed with pure hate.

  “Second of all,” he continued, “if you ever pull a knife on me again, you should be prepared to use it. Or, I will put you across my knee.”

  Seeing that his message had registered, he turned and started for home. She hesitated, then began to follow. He could hear her mumbling under breath. Something about arrogant and bastards.

  Chapter Three

  Laila’s stomach tightened into a compact ball. Where was he taking her and why?

  Her fingers ached to rub her coin. A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind as she tried to work out what exactly was going on. The man had promised to have her marry a prince.

  Why did he want the coin? What made it so important that he was going to grant her dreams?

  Impossible. Girls like her from Fifth Point did not marry princes. They did not live in fancy castles and command a dozen servants. No. It was impossible.

  Yet.

  She glanced at the man next to her. His handsome profile pulled at her. That golden mane of his made her want to run her fingers through it until he purred with pleasure. He was bigger, stronger, and quicker than any man she knew. Deep down, though, she knew his gentle grace hid a beast. Not an evil, scary beast. A strong, powerful animal that could force his will on anything he came across.

  The thought made her insides grow warm and soft. What was it about this man that reminded her she was a woman? What was it about him that made her think of starry nights and soft beds?

  Biting her lip, she kept quiet. She had learned long ago that the direct approach rarely led to the truth. Better to bide her time and see what was what. Besides, she still had her dagger.

  As they turned a corner, she froze, her feet sliding to a quick stop.

  “I can’t go in there,” she hissed.

  This wasn’t the market, this wasn’t the town. This was as far away from Fifth Point as a person could go in her world.

  Tall brick walls stood as a bulwark against people like her.

  He wanted to enter the protected enclave. Patrolled by guardsmen who would love nothing more than throwing her in jail before shipping her off to the mines.

  “Why?” he asked with a curious frown.

  Laila shook her head and started to back away.

  “Girl,” he said, “you are with me, there is nothing to fear. I assure you.”

  She looked up into those warm hazel eyes of his. The ones that looked like they had seen the beginning of time. As if there was nothing under the sun they hadn’t dealt with before.

  Her shoulders twitched, and her palms grew wet with worry. But, she could not look away.

  “They don’t let people like me into places like that,” she said, as her cheeks turned warm. She knew she was blushing with shame.

  Flint smiled down at her. “As I said, do not worry. Besides. Where else are we going to find a prince?”

  Her insides turned over. He was serious. The man actually planned on marrying her off to a prince. For some reason, the thought bothered her. It should have filled her with joy and happiness. Instead, she felt a sad weight settle on her.

  He took her arm and started to guide her to the guarded gates. The two soldiers only gave him a cursory glance. Examining her from head to foot. She could feel their eyes resting on her, though. Like eagles waiting for a rabbit to move. She well knew their thoughts. What was this gentleman doing with this gutter snipe?

  She swallowed hard and lifted her head. To hell with them. She was with Flint. If he said it would work, then she would trust him. Besides, what could they do to her? The mines probably weren’t that much worse than where she already lived.

  They passed through the gate as if they were stepping through the kitchen door. No issues, no problems. She wondered why she had ever worried. Apparently, Flint belonged. But, what was even more important, who he was with, belonged.

  That was saying quite a bit. A warm feeling flowed through her. She pulled her arm from his grasp and continued walking. Head up, with a firm step. She belonged here, she was trying to say.

  Her eyes scanned the neighborhood, and her stomach sank. The houses were beautiful. Big, ornate, solid wooden doors. Glass in the windows and plants in little boxes outside each one of them.

  The colors and cleanliness were a shock to her system. People actually lived in these picturesque homes. Only a few people walked on the broad avenue. Each of them dressed as if they belonged here. The women wore fancy day dresses that looked like they would cost a person half a lifetime of wages. The men in tight fitting jackets.

  Not a few blocks away, children were fighting over scraps. Women had to sell their bodies to live. Men stole, and killed to survive.

  But here, no sense of evil touched this place.

  Laila noticed several of the women shoot Flint looks of interest. The same looks the women of the market place had sent. Interest, want, even availability. It was enough to make her grind her teeth. What was it about this man that had women on the verge of falling on the floor ready to spread their legs at a mere smirk?

  A little boy ran past them, laughing, giggling with pure joy. A servant in gray chased after him also laughing, obviously enjoying the game. Her heart lurched. When was the last time she had seen a little boy run for the pure pleasure of it? Usually, they were being chased by older boys or worse.

  She had heard about the protected enclave ever since she was a little girl. The power, the majesty. The unbelievable wealth.

  It was true, she realized. Every one of the stories were true.

  She had grown up on tales about what happened to people who didn’t belong and tried
to enter this place. How they were shipped off to the mines and never heard from again. Now, here she was, walking down the cobblestone street with a giant Golden Man.

  Her life truly had changed. She wondered briefly what would happen in the future. What new and terrifying thing would occur next?

  “Here we are,” Flint said, indicating a house made of white stone. Four windows on the bottom floor. Just like the house next to it. It too had flower boxes and an oaken door.

  She wondered who took care of the flowers. Surely, not Flint. The thought made her smile. Imagining him planting flowers seemed ridiculous for some reason.

  She glanced at him. “You live here?” she asked, her voice rising with disbelief.

  “For now,” he answered, as he stepped up to the door and into the house. Turning, he held the door open and raised an eyebrow in question.

  He wanted her to step into the house. Not go around to the back door. But through the front, where everyone could see. She looked over her shoulder to see who was watching. Maybe if she timed it right, no one would notice.

  The thought of people laughing at her for entering such a home through the front door sent a chill throughout her body.

  Gathering her courage, she stepped into the house, refusing to look at him less she catch any hint of mocking laughter.

  She hadn’t gone two steps when she halted in place. Unable to move further.

  The smells of her childhood rushed into her. The smell of wood wax her mother used on the families only table. The sweet aroma of stew with bay leaves, and rosemary.

  Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t care.

  The inside of the house was even more beautiful. Polished furniture. Pictures on the wall. An actual rug that covered almost the entire floor.

  Laila gasped and quickly hopped to the side to stand on the hardwood less she dirty the exquisite floor covering.

  Several doors off the entranceway indicated more rooms. A long staircase to the side led to the upper floors.

  Laila glanced at Flint, standing there, examining her. She knew that he was watching to see how she would react. Her insides turned over, she would not give the man the pleasure of laughing at her. She could do this. She could at least pretend to do this.