Dragon's Passion (The Dragon Realm #4) Read online

  And then Idris was rising from the table too. “Look, Ma. We have to go.”

  He’d decided that he wasn’t dealing with this shit right now. The urgency of Isla’s danger had been shaken off for a second, just with the shock of seeing Donovan. But it was back now. And he didn’t want to prolong their stay in Chestershire for another second.

  “What?” Felice asked, her eyebrows flying up her forehead. “Why?”

  Idris laid a hand over Isla’s shoulders. “I can’t explain it all right now. But Isla and I are in danger. And so are you. We have to get the hell out of here. Right now. You can come or not,” he said to Donovan. “I don’t care as long as we leave right now.”

  “Fine, that’s fine,” Donovan said, pacing over to Felice. “That’s perfect, actually. Let’s just take him right there. We can all go now.”

  Something tipped in Idris at the sight of this man holding his mother’s shoulders, speaking to her so urgently, so intimately.

  “Are you nuts, Donovan? He’ll think he’s lost his mind. And didn’t you say this whole thing has to be a choice? He has to agree to go.”

  Donovan ripped his hands through his hair in a gesture that Idris automatically recognized as one of his own. “Fine, then it has to be O. It’s the only way he’s gonna accept all this.”

  The word ‘O’ rang in Idris’s head. Echoed down through him. What were they talking about? It was ringing in his head like a bell. Something from his childhood. When he was young. Not more than five years old. What was that? O.

  And he remembered all at once. He’d had an imaginary friend named O. It was a little boy. A little white blonde kid. The memory was grainy. But Idris used to play with him. He’d lived under Idris’s bed or something? They’d play in the night after Idris was supposed to be asleep.

  God, he hadn’t thought about this in years.

  Idris shook his head. Reminded himself of his priorities. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but we’re leaving in five minutes. Ma, pack a bag if you have to.”

  Then his mother shocked the shit out of him by leaning down and pulling up an already-packed backpack. “One step ahead of you. We had plans to come find you in the morning to leave anyways.”

  She tossed the bag over her shoulder. Idris felt like he was in a dream.

  “Okay, kids,” Felice said, looking over at everyone. “Looks like we all have a fair amount of explaining to do. So, I’m driving. We’re going into the mountains to a friend’s house where there’s somebody who can explain all of our side to you, Idris. In the meantime, you’re going to explain all of this.” She gestured at Isla’s haphazard outfit.

  “Sounds good,” Isla said, immediately starting to follow Felice out of the room.

  Idris grabbed her hand. “You’re okay with this?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Idris, I don’t care if we’re headed to Oz right now as long as it gets me the fuck out of Chestershire.”

  He watched her follow his mother out of the kitchen and down the hall. With a small flip of his stomach, he realized he was alone with the man. Donovan. His father.

  “Let’s go,” Donovan said. “Before your mother leaves without us.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Isla sat in the back seat of Felice's ancient hatchback and watched the mountain whizz past as they climbed the switchbacks. They'd been driving for twenty or so minutes at this point and she couldn't even begin to say what she felt.

  Blurry? Fearful? Out of place?

  Well, that one rang true. Through and through. She looked down at her attire, her shaking hands, the bruises she could feel on her neck. God. Ivan had found her. But he wasn't there now. He was... somewhere else. And she was racing off into the mountains with three strangers who had all just listened to her story. It was the second time she’d told it that night. And only the second time she’d ever told it at all. It was a horrifying story. But somehow these three all seemed to have bigger problems.

  Strange night.

  Made all the more strange by Idris's persistent grip on her hand. He hadn't let go since they'd gotten in the car. And the only reason Isla let it go on was that she got the feeling he was holding on to her as much as she was holding on to him. For dear life. She'd felt his world tip in that kitchen, and though she didn't know the story, she'd known instinctively that he and his father didn't know each other. That Idris was completely stunned to see him.

  And now they were traveling into the mountains to try and find some other guy who could explain everything to them?

  Isla doubted there was much to explain. No matter how much Felice seemed to believe that Donovan had had a good reason for disappearing whenever he had. In Isla's experience, people didn't really need a reason to skip out on their families. All they needed was a way to do it, a minor temptation, an opportunity. But this wasn't her life, her family, her place to say anything like that. All this was, was a ride. A ride away from the danger she'd just been in.

  She involuntarily gave Idris's warm hand a little squeeze as she relived the moment he'd thrown her over his shoulder, raced out of the club, and away from his whole life, just to keep her safe.

  She felt his eyes on the side of her face and she couldn't help but turn to him. Those eyes. What was it? Something that made her feel safe. They were so unusual, the brightest green she'd ever seen. Almost celery. But deeper.

  She looked away as Felice pulled into the driveway of a little house.

  It was almost 3 am at that point, but the lights blazed.

  There was a bicycle in the lawn, a baseball glove strewn on the front steps, and cloth diapers hung on a line.

  Felice and Donovan led the way into the house while Idris and Isla walked behind, their hands clasped tightly together. Why did she feel like they were about to go down the rabbit hole?

  They walked through the clean, plain little house to the living room where there were two men and two women. One man, built like a tank with short brown hair, stood, his arms crossed over his chest. The other man laid sprawled on the floor, his messy blonde hair sticking up from having pulled his hand through it. The two women, one with black hair and one with red, sat next to one another on the couch. They all wore pajamas, as if they'd just woken up.

  The blond man on the floor jumped up with the fluid motion of an athlete, wincing just the tiniest bit. He favored one side over the other.

  But there was no pain on his face. Just joy. A huge, pulsing joy. Isla could almost feel it against her skin, like he had tossed it across the room.

  Idris, on the other hand, had frozen. It was like standing next to an iceberg.

  Felice moved to the blonde man as if she couldn't stop herself. She fixed his hair in a motherly way. The man smiled down at her, something alive and affectionate in his eyes.

  "O, honey, we need you to show Idris. It's too much to explain with words," Felice said.

  Meanwhile, Idris stared back and forth between this man, O, and his mother like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

  "Show me what?" Idris's voice was low and powerful and had everyone in the room shifting, as if to accommodate for his very presence.

  "Trust me, dude, it'll be better if I just show you," O said, starting to cross the room with his hand out.

  Idris automatically shifted to put Isla behind him. Something surged in Isla's chest. A tight racing feeling that she had to swallow against to make it subside.

  O cocked his head to one side, his hand still extended. "I can show your girl at the same time, if you want?"

  Isla opened her mouth to explain that she wasn't his girl, but clapped it back closed. Who cared about shit like that at a time like this? When apparently both Idris’s and Isla's lives were shifting to pieces like Pangaea.

  Idris looked from Isla back to this guy O. "You mean you want us to literally take your hand?"

  O cracked his neck to one side and turned back to the redhead sitting on the couch. "Jesus, this is like pulling teeth."

  He turned bac
k. "Yes, just touch my hand and I swear, pretty much every question you have is about to get answered."

  Isla looked up at Idris and saw that he was not going to move. He'd gone all iceberg again. Only his eyes moved. And they were on his mother's face. She said nothing. But she did stare right back at him.

  Isla huffed out a breath. "Alright. Let's get this show on the road."

  She lifted her hand that was twisted together with Idris's and placed them right into the center of O's outstretched palm.

  And that's when the world as she knew it ceased to exist.

  She didn't have skin anymore. Or a body. She was only a rushing, whirling sensation. She was a molecule in the air of a memory. She saw Felice, much younger, falling through the air. A beast catching her in its claws, saving her. She saw the beast transforming into a man. Donovan. But young, and the spitting image of this guy O. She saw Felice and Donovan in an embrace, obviously very much in love. And then a great, red lizard clawing and fighting, trying to kill them. She watched in confusion as they escaped through a hole in the sky. Next was Felice, thick with a child. The twin sadness and relief in Felice and Donovan's eyes as she grew. And then a baby. Must be Idris. That thick swatch of dark hair, the bright green eyes. The baby crawling, in pain, scratching at his skin like there was a creature inside trying to get out. And again, Felice and Donovan's sadness as they soothed him. And then another baby. A blonde this time. She watched the two brothers roll in grass. Dirty and screaming with laughter. She watched their mother yell at them in their bunk beds for playing too late at night. She watched the younger one, holding his head and crying out, sobbing, while the older one, terrified, dragged him inside to his parents. And then she watched, in horror, as Felice, holding Idris, kissed Donovan and the little blonde baby goodbye. She watched a light flicker out in Felice's eyes. She watched heavy tears roll over Donovan's face as he dragged a hand over Idris's dark hair, kissed his boy on the cheek. And then took his blonde son through a hole in the air. And with a flash of something like a rainbow, was gone.

  The fog cleared and once again, Idris and Isla were standing in an ordinary living room. Every eye in the room was turned to them. O stood in front of them, a sweet, hopeful expression on his face.

  Felice crossed the room to lay a hand on her son's face for just a moment, but Idris stepped around her. He was looking right at O.

  "O," he said, in a gruff whisper. "Owen."

  O nodded, his hair flopping, his eyes intense and clear.

  "You were my imaginary friend," Idris said. "You weren't real. You were only in my imagination."

  "Well, no." O shook his head. "I'm super real."

  "Jesus Christ," Idris ripped his hands through his hair and paced a tight line.

  Isla looked at him, figured that if she was there, she might as well help. "Let me see if I've got this straight." She pointed to people around the room. "Long-lost brother. Long-lost father. You left because long-lost brother was what? Having headaches? I assume due at least in part to whatever the hell you just did with your hand and the vision." She took a deep breath. "Also, there was some freaky shit with like, monsters? Beautiful monsters? I'd want to say dragons but..."

  She trailed off as everyone in the room besides Idris gave her a look. A look like she'd just hit the nail on the head. "Jesus Christ," she couldn't help but echo Idris.

  "You're trying to tell me that my father is a dragon?" Idris turned to his mother, obviously the only person in the room whose opinion he actually trusted.

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Yes."

  "Well," O interrupted. "What we're really trying to tell you is that you're a dragon."

  "Tact, O," the redhead on the couch murmured. "Let's give the guy a second here."

  "Look," the black-haired woman stood up. She was curvy and pretty and seemed to be in control of the situation. "We need to take a breather here. Muscles," she seemed to be addressing the large brown-haired guy in the corner. "Could you make sure everybody has something to eat and drink if they want it?" She stood and crossed the room to Isla. "I'm Lucy. The redhead is Mel, we're both humans. That one over there is my husband, Amos. He and O and Donovan are dragon shifters. And Idris, of course, but… jeez. Okay. I'm getting ahead of myself." She swiped her hair back. "Do you want some clothes to change into? And maybe me and Mel can explain some of this?"

  Isla could have kissed Lucy. "Yes. God Jesus, yes."

  She took a step to follow Lucy down the hall but felt herself inexplicably pulled backward toward Idris. Like they were attached on a string. She turned to him, keeping her back to the group. "Do you think it’s safe?" she asked him in a low voice.

  She couldn't have known that her sweet, trusting question, her worried eyes, her scent, was the only thing tethering him to the world he'd lived in for 30 odd years. She couldn't have known. But it was. He dragged a hand over her hair.

  "I won't let anything happen to you, Isla. I swear to god."

  So twenty minutes later, Isla stepped out of the shower, and into some yoga pants and a t-shirt of Lucy's. The saint of a woman had even loaned her a sports bra. Though both women had drawn the line at underwear. Luckily, they were almost the same size, although Isla's legs were a bit longer. When she came out of the steamy bathroom, it was to see Lucy and Mel sitting on Lucy's bed, waiting for her.

  "Do you want to sleep, eat, or ask questions?" Mel asked, cocking her head to one side. She had the prettiest face, a little off-center and interesting.

  Isla braided back her damp hair. "I have a million questions. But after the night I've had, I don't think my brain can take anymore."

  Both Lucy’s and Mel's eyes flicked to the forming bruises on Isla's neck but neither said anything.

  "Answer me one thing," Isla said. "Is this shit real?"

  Mel laughed. "Super fucking real."

  Isla let out a long breath. "Okay. So. Wow."

  "Sleep," Lucy said. "It'll do you good. And we're off in the morning, early."

  "To where?"

  Lucy and Mel looked at each other.

  "You want the truth or something that you'll believe?" Mel asked.

  "The truth."

  "Alright. We're going to the dragon realm."

  Isla laughed and dragged a hand over her face. "Sure. Why not?"

  A dog barked down the street and she tensed. She suddenly felt weirdly naked being this far away from Idris. "I think I’m gonna-"

  "Go find your man? Sure. You guys are staying on a pull-out couch in the playroom. Sorry the accommodations aren't more, well, accommodating, but it'll do for the night."

  The dog barked again and Isla went still as she followed Lucy down the hall. Lucy turned, saw the look in her eye. "Isla, look. Believe as much or as little of this as you want. It took me long enough to believe it even after I was staring a dragon dead in the eye.” Lucy chuckled, her eyes far away, looking into her past. She shook her head and concentrated back on Isla. “But if there’s one thing you believe in tonight, please believe you’re safe.” Her eyes pulled at Isla, imploring her to know the truth. “I don’t know exactly what you and Idris were running from tonight, but if your bruises are any indication, it’s some bad shit. But know this. We’re in the middle of nowhere up here. It’s hard to find this house even if you know where to look. And otherwise? Needle in a haystack. And even if you did get found tonight, you’re sleeping in a house with four dragon shifters. And let me just tell you, even when they’re in human form, they’re badasses who protect their women, okay?”

  Isla nodded. She wasn’t sure if she trusted what this woman was saying, or if she was just too tired to object. But she laid a quick hand on Lucy’s shoulder to show her that she’d heard her. Lucy nodded back and showed her to the playroom, where her husband, Amos, was just putting sheets on an air mattress.

  He rose and crossed the room to his wife. His eyes searched Isla’s. “You’re safe here, Isla,” he said.

  “So I’ve heard.” It wasn’t the most polite respon
se, but hell, she’d been through a lot tonight.

  He nodded. “My kids are sleeping in this house. I will literally rip apart anyone who comes in here with bad intent, okay?”

  Wow. Okay. Anger issues?

  Whatever. Worked for her. She was reaping the benefits. She flashed him an awkward thumbs up. “Sounds great.”

  Lucy laughed a little at the reaction. “Okay, sleep well. We’ll wake you up in the morning a little bit before it’s time to go.”

  And then Isla was alone. Blissfully alone. With silence and darkness and a semi-comfortable bed. She flipped off the lights and stumbled through the sea of toys toward her bed. She slid under the covers. And the dark night seemed to press in through the windows. She knew she was safe. But apparently her heart didn’t know that.

  Where was Idris? She felt like an idiot for hoping he was nearby, but there was no fighting it. She wanted him.

  Even so, she squeaked in fear when the door to the playroom swung open.

  “It’s me,” Idris said in a low voice, filling the light in the doorway with his bulk. The room fell dark as he stepped in, closed the door. She heard the soft swishing sound of his shirt coming over his head. And then the clop of his shoes being kicked off. She heard a belt hit the ground and she mentally roped her lady parts down.

  Come on. This was crazy. She was not about to jump this guy’s bones. Everything in both of their lives had just been completely turned upside down. Hell, the very RULES of the world had been turned upside down.

  But still, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t get a lady boner from listening to him undress in the dark. She braced, still as a mouse in the bed.

  He stood over her.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor if you want. But I’d rather sleep on the bed.”

  Well, shit. She’d rather he slept on the bed, too. She just didn’t want to have to say it out loud. Even after everything that had happened tonight, she still had a little pride.

  Instead of saying anything, she just scooted all the way over to one side. And then he crawled into bed and stretched out in one smooth move.