Chapter Twenty-Two – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

DAKOTA

I’m not sure what to be more afraid of – the dangerous black eyes of the dragon-man sitting in front of me, or the noise outside that tells me the nomad has returned. I knew it was just a matter of time.

Murr surges to his feet.

I jump to mine, too. “No! Don’t attack!”

I appreciate his protectiveness, but I’ve learned through experience that the best confrontation is no confrontation at all. Someone could get hurt. Our home could get destroyed. He could be coming back to apologize.

The latter seems unlikely, but I don’t want to take chances. Plus, what’s to stop Murr from losing his mind and attacking us afterward?

I put a hand on his chest and shake my head. “Don’t change. Don’t attack. Just…let’s not do anything.”

“Mom?” Rabbit’s voice is nervous, and my daughter comes racing over, her sleeping bag still wrapped around her. She’s wearing her fuzzy bunny slippers she loves so much, and her black cat trails after her. “I think I heard something outside–”

“I know,” I say quickly, putting on a smile. “Go hide and I’ll check it out. It’ll be fine. Take your weapon just in case.”

She looks at Murr, uncertain. “His eyes went dark…”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’ll keep him under control.”

I hope.

Rabbit nods and drops her sleeping bag, then rushes in to hug me. I hold her close and press a quick kiss to the top of her head – she’s still shorter than me, thank goodness – and then she scoops up her cat and goes racing off to the bathroom at the back of the store, our designated ‘panic room’. I’m tempted to follow her, just to hover and make sure that she’s safe, but I need to keep an eye on Murr.

I keep my hand on Murr’s chest, watching his coal-black eyes and hoping that they’ll swirl back to a better mood color. They turn black when he’s agitated, and it’s terrifying to see. “Calm down,” I say, voice even. “Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was deer. We don’t know–”

There’s another metallic crash, and then the front door shakes.

My heart leaps into my throat.

Murk growls and surges forward, and I grab him again before he can go. “No,” I whisper. I’ve seen what happens when dragons lose their shit. Entire cities burn down. I have to think of a way to get him to stay calm, and stay with me. “I’ll kiss you if you stay here,” I blurt out. “Dakota kiss Murr.”

His eyes swirl orange, his gaze going to my face.

“Come on,” I say, and take his hand in mine, pulling him to the back of the store. I want to see what these intruders are up to. If someone’s just looking for a few books to snag, they’re welcome to them. If it’s that horrible nomad, maybe he’ll think we’re gone if he comes in and sees no one.

We can’t attack until we know what we’re dealing with.

I’m relieved that Murr lets me pull him along, and I race through the big, book-strewn store to a small back broom closet. It’s down the hall from the bathroom, but I don’t want to be in the same room as Rabbit, because if someone heads in this direction, I’ll sacrifice myself and jump out to keep her safe and hidden. But until then, I’m going to hide.

Pushing aside mops and a big wheeled bucket, I squeeze into the cleaning room with Murr at my side, and then I shut the door enough that there’s only a tiny crack of light being let in. I want to spy on them before they know I’m nearby.

Murr pushes toward the door, trying to nudge me out of the way.

I stand between him and the doorway, my back to him. I grab his hand and link it with mine, lacing our fingers together. I rest our hands on my stomach, like we’re a couple at prom, just because it’ll keep him close and I’ll know if he tries to leave or change forms. One crisis at a time, I remind myself, and focus on that tiny sliver of light coming through the doorway.

Murr’s body presses up against mine, and then I feel him sniffing my hair. I’m suddenly acutely aware that I’ve shoved a big naked man into a tiny closet with me.

And I’m holding his hand.

And he’s made it clear I’d kiss him.

I rub my thumb over his hand, my breathing speeding up. He rubs his mouth against my hair, and his warmth is flooding the small space with heat. His arm tightens around me, as if he’s pulling me closer. “Dakotah,” he murmurs in that strange, tricky way of his, like words are so hard and yet he’s trying just for me. “Dakotah.”

“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”

I turn my head, and then his nose is against my temple. He’s big. I mean, I knew he was big, but being pressed up against a very large man is different than just acknowledging that he’s tall. It’s not just his height, it’s the way he takes up space, too. Murr’s big presence threatens to swallow up the entire room and me with it.

How long has it been since I was close to a man that was interested in me?

Why does this make me feel so vulnerable and yet protected? Safe?

There’s another crash from inside, and someone swears.

I freeze, because…that doesn’t sound like the man that was here yesterday. It sounds like…a woman.

“Now you’ve done it, Aggie,” says a raspy voice. “You’re making enough noise to raise the dead. Why not just get a trumpet and blow it and let everyone know we’re here?”

“Oh, you hush up, Dottie.” A second voice, more wobbly and faint, joins in. “I can’t help it if there’s junk all over the damned floor.”

“It’s an apocalypse, you old bat. Of course there’s going to be junk on the floor.” The sound of another pile of books crashing to the ground makes me wince. There’s a pause, and then the first voice says, “Okay, that one’s on me.”

“Quit bitching and help me find some crosswords.”

A crash, like a pile of books have fallen to the floor. Then, a pause. “You like sudoku?”

“Do I look like I enjoy math? Does anyone enjoy math?”

I don’t know whether to laugh or be alarmed at the argument happening a short distance away.

We’re being robbed by…old ladies?