On the Accidental Wings of Dragons

  12

  The three-story townhouse was lovely. Carissa considered the quiet home from where they perched across the street. Why Michael hadn’t just flown up to his house had confused her, but watching it now, there was definitely something that bothered her about it, too.

  Michael’s head swung back and forth as he scanned his road. “Come on.” He turned away from the house.

  Carissa looked at it for a moment longer before following her companion across his neighbor’s roof and down over the backyard.

  Flying low over the ground, he dodged between trees and toys until he was several houses down.

  Carissa glanced back the way they had come. It would have been so much easier just to cross the street. Holding her tongue, she followed him across the street between two cars. She had to flap hard to make it through before the second one hit her. What the hell was he thinking?

  With a loud crunch of breaking branches, Michael crashed into a bush on his side of the street.

  Following him in, Carissa pulled up short as he paused, looking around. “What are you doing?” she hissed at him.

  He just shook his head and tucked his wings in. Scurrying along the fence line, Michael took off towards the back of the yard.

  Carissa let out an exasperated sigh and followed. They crawled under bushes and squeezed through fences until they reached the back of the blue house Michael had claimed was his.

  Crouching as low as he could, Michael scanned the backyard before shooting across the open grass to a small flap in the back door.

  Carissa chased after him.

  A couple of good knocks with his shoulder popped the old cat flap open, and he squeezed inside.

  Carissa tucked in her wings and followed the end of his tufty tail. The sight that met her stopped her in her tracks. What had once been a well-maintained kitchen was now in shambles. The drawers were pulled out, and junk was dumped everywhere.

  Michael slinked his way through the mess and stopped just inside the door, listening.

  Carissa followed him carefully. Now she understood why he had been so cautious about approaching his home.

  Michael took off down the hall, leaving Carissa standing in the doorway. She stared into his living room, shocked by the sight of it.

  The kitchen had been bad, but the living room was worse. Someone had taken a blade to just about everything the man owned. Cushion foam was torn up and tossed everywhere. Books had been massacred. Even the painting above the mantel had been shredded. Either Michael had had a major fit before he left, or someone had been looking for something.

  “All’s clear,” Michael said as he came back down the hall, pulling the belt of his bathrobe tight.

  Apparently, he wasn’t having an issue shifting between forms any more.

  He dropped a second terrycloth robe over Carissa as he turned back down the hallway.

  Taking the hint, Carissa shifted and pulled the large robe on before chasing after him. The rest of his house was just as bad as the living room. “What happened?” Carissa asked as she looked over the shredded mattress that had been on his bed.

  Michael bent into the closet and started pulling out what had been clean clothing. “Eternity.” He sighed. “They probably came in looking for some clue as to where I was.” He wrinkled his nose at the claw marks rending the front of his shirt before tossing it towards an overturned wastebasket. “Although, I’ve never known them to get this destructive. They must have been really upset.”

  Carissa’s eyes finally identified the cause of the destruction. She had assumed the cuts were from a knife, but closer inspection showed multiple jagged lines. Someone had shifted to dragon form and torn through his place.

  Michael picked up another shirt—this one was whole—and handed it to her.

  “And you’re okay with this?” Carissa asked as she rubbed the shirt between her fingers.

  “No. I’m not okay with it,” Michael growled, and then he let out a sigh. “But, I understand it. If they thought I was killing dragons…” He let the subject drop as he went back to searching for clothing.

  “How are we going to find your file in this mess?” Carissa pulled off the bathrobe and slipped into Michael’s shirt. It hung low enough that it was almost decent.

  “We’re not.” Michael handed her a pair of jeans. There was a tear down the front of the leg, but it looked more artful than damaged.

  A belt followed, and she pulled on the oversized pants and secured them in place.

  “The file was never here.” Michael found another set of clothing that wasn’t too bad off and quickly changed into them. “I mailed it to a friend of mine.”

  Carissa looked around at the mess. “Then what are we doing here?” She was sure his home had been lovely before someone had ransacked it.

  “Getting dressed.” Michael found two socks and pulled them on. “I’m not sure what Terrance would do if we showed up at his house as dragons.” He shrugged as he fished a boot out from under what was left of his bed. “He’s a bit of a nutcase.”

  Carissa gave him a pointed look. “And you thought to send him a file on dragon disappearances?” she questioned.

  Michael shrugged again and collected the second boot from behind a desk. This one looked slightly chewed. “He might believe in the second shooter on the grassy knoll, but he’s one of the best statisticians I’ve ever met.” Michael struggled into the boots before standing up and scanning the room again. “Anyway, I’ve known him for a long time. If Eternity’s put a price on my head, then he’s the one person I can trust to not turn me in.”

  Looking at the mess they’d left, Carissa was sure that Eternity had put a bounty out for Michael.

  “Here.” Michael handed her a pair of leather moccasins tied together. They’d been hanging over what was left of the ceiling fan.

  Taking them, Carissa worked the leather thongs apart and pulled them on. “How are we going to get there?” she asked as she stood up in the oversized shoes.

  Michael held out a ratty-looking, leather jacket. “In style.” He smiled and led the way out.

  ***

  Thank goodness he hadn’t told his boss about the arrangement he had with his neighbor. Michael smiled as he opened up the gate in his side fence and let Carissa into the little shed in Mrs. Giuffria’s backyard. Thin light filtered in through the dirty window, shining over a multitude of gardening supplies. The grandmotherly woman had donated a small section of her storage area in payment for his help tilling her garden in the springtime. Two days of backbreaking work was turning out to be well worth it.

  “We’re going on that?” Carissa gasped as he pulled back the brown tarp covering a Harley Roadster. He had spent a long time fixing the old bike up.

  “Yup.” Pulling a tight-fitting riding jacket out of a locker, he slipped it on over his shirt. “Fastest thing I have.” He handed her a helmet before pulling another out. “Besides, the full-face shields will help hide our identities from the guys watching the house.”

  Carissa stared at him stunned. “What?”

  “You didn’t see the van sitting just down the street?” Michael set his helmet on the bike and took hers. Carefully, he gathered up her hair. He loved how it tangled around his fingers. She was so warm under his hands. All he had to do was… He pushed away the voice egging him on and tucked the golden curls up on her head so he could put her helmet on her. Now was not the time for what he wanted to do. “They probably had someone watching my back fence, too, but they might not expect us to come out of my neighbor’s yard. It should give us time to get away.” Turning from Carissa, Michael popped his helmet on and opened up the door.

  Rolling the bike out onto the concrete pad, Michael shut the shed up before climbing on the bike.

  “Wait.” Carissa grabbed his arm before he could start the thing up. “I’ve never been on one of these.”

  “And I’ve never flown,” Michael teased through his open face shield. “Now climb on.” He nodded to the seat behin
d him. “At least I don’t have to toss you off a ten-story building for this.” He smiled at her.

  Carissa considered him for a moment before shutting her helmet and climbing up on the seat behind him.

  “Just hold on.” Michael tucked Carissa’s arms around his middle. “Everything will be fine.”

  Flicking his helmet closed, Michael fired up the old Harley. God, it felt good to be back on his bike. This was a thrill he knew. Kicking it into gear, he took off, making Carissa grab onto him tighter. A rumble of pleasure shivered up from his chest. Even through his protective gear, she felt wonderful.

  Michael shook his head slightly and forced his concentration back to the bike and the road ahead of him. A flash in his mirror drew his attention just in time to see a dark SUV pull out to follow them. Reaching down, Michael tightened Carissa’s hold on him before twisting the accelerator and dropping the bike down a gear. The SUV kicked it up, too, and raced after Michael as he shot out into traffic.

  So, someone did know about his bike. Well, he knew a few tricks they didn’t.

  Slipping in and out of traffic, Michael tried to lose his tail, but the driver stuck to him. Whoever was driving that thing was damn good. Michael cut a hard right, making Carissa squeeze him tighter. Damn, he was going to have to take her riding sometime when he could really enjoy the feel of her pressing into his back. Putting that thought out of his mind, he pulled a hard left into the local park. He could hear Carissa squeal as he hopped the curb and pointed his bike into a gap in the trees. His little Roadster wasn’t really made for trail riding, but that SUV sure wouldn’t be able to follow him.

  A few minutes of bumpy, dirt trails spilled them out on the other side of the park, free of Eternity’s radar. For now. Michael could feel Carissa’s angry rumbles against his back. Surely she couldn’t fault his choice of escape routes. Okay, so it hadn’t been the smoothest ride, but it had gotten the job done. He concentrated on keeping the bike between the ditches as the image of her anger-filled eyes floated in the back of his mind. God, she was beautiful when she was angry. With those luscious curls all rumpled up from being under that helmet. That ever-present voice joined in with his imagination, tightening his pants to an uncomfortable point. Man, when he got out of this, he was going to have to find himself a nice girlfriend. His peanut gallery cried out for the woman behind him. That would be great, but he truly doubted she would have him. She was, after all, the king’s sister.

  13

  Full night had fallen by the time Michael tucked his bike in between a rusting-out pickup and a worn farmhouse and shut it down.

  Carissa wasn’t sure how she felt about her first ride on a motorcycle. The first part had been a bit hair-raising, and she definitely hadn’t liked the shortcut through the woods, but Michael had handled both of those parts with expert skill. Her jangled nerves had finally settled after they lost Eternity and Michael sent the bike tooling down the open road. That part had been amazing. She had even relaxed into the purr of the motor and Michael’s warm back. His rich spice and the hint of dragon musk had lulled her back-brain into several very nice fantasies. Maybe, when this was all over, she might find a way to entice him into trying a few of them out.

  Reluctantly, Carissa pulled her hands out of the pockets on Michael’s coat and got off the bike. She pulled her helmet off and looked up at the old house while Michael rummaged in the bag on the side of the bike.

  Standing in the shadow of the moonlit house, Carissa couldn’t really see much, but the place looked deserted. The white paint on the clapboard siding curled away, and a shutter on one of the windows hung at a precarious angle in obvious disrepair. Why had Michael brought her here? Weren’t they going to see his friend and pick up some information?

  “Does your friend live here?” Carissa asked as Michael finished slipping a metal plate between the kickstand of the bike and the soft earth under it.

  He chuckled and set his helmet on the motorcycle. “Something like that.” Taking her headgear, he perched it on the seat. “This way.” Michael turned and led her down a narrow path to the back of the building.

  Carissa’s breath caught as Michael stepped from the shadows. The moonlight twinkled in the soft silver of his hair with the same iridescence of dragon scales. It gave him an almost ethereal look that stole her breath away. Images of moonlight playing over his toned skin danced in her head. Yummy!

  “Over here.”

  Michael’s voice cut into her thoughts, and she quickened her stalled feet to his side.

  Michael bent into the tall grass and pulled up what looked to be a door.

  Carissa glanced into the gaping hole. A set of wooden stairs led down into the black abyss. It must have been some kind of storm shelter.

  Michael pulled a penlight from his inner pocket and pointed it into the hole. The thin beam didn’t do much to dispel the darkness. “After you.” He held his hand out for her to lead the way.

  You have got to be kidding! Carissa gave him a questioning look before taking the light he held. A deep breath bolstered her courage, and she stepped from the packed earth onto the first of the rickety-looking steps. Surprisingly, they were a lot sturdier than they appeared.

  Descending into the dusty vault, Carissa looked around in what little light filtered in from the doorway. It was definitely a storm shelter. Boxes of supplies were stacked neatly along the walls. Her study of the room was cut short as Michael pulled the planks of wood serving as the door shut. She clutched onto the little Maglite as he made his way down to her side.

  Michael pointed to the back of the room. “Over here.” He knocked on a flat space between two shelves. Two heavy pounds, followed by three short raps. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Michael drew Carissa in against his side and waited.

  Carissa studied the flat space, but she couldn’t see anything remarkable about it. The pop and hiss of a speaker coming to life echoed through the room.

  “How is a raven like a writing desk?” a voice boomed out from a corner behind her.

  Carissa whipped her head around to look for the source of the sound, but Michael held her in place against him.

  “Your hair wants for cutting,” he answered.

  What kind of answer was that? Carissa looked at him, confused.

  “Michael?” the voice asked. There was a note of disbelief in it.

  “In the flesh.” Michael shot the wall a toothy grin. “Can I come in? It’s cold out here, and there are wolves.” The seconds ticked by as they waited for a response. A hissing noise came from the wall.

  Carissa gasped in surprise as part of the brickwork swung open. A tall man with dark skin stood framed in the doorway.

  “God, man, it’s good to see you.” The man stepped out of the doorway and took Michael’s hand. He pulled Michael in for what might have passed as a hug. It was more a chest bump and slap on the back. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again. Did you know that there’s a BOLO out on you?”

  “I kind of figured.” Michael pulled away from his friend and turned back to Carissa. He placed his hand on her back and brought her forwards into the light.

  “Carissa, I would like you to meet Terrence Basha,” Michael said, introducing the man. “Terrence, this is Carissa Markel. She’s helping me.”

  Terrence looked at her with wide eyes. “Carissa Markel! As in the dragon king’s sister?”

  Michael nodded. “One and the same.”

  “My Lady.” Terrence took her hand and kissed it.

  Carissa could feel Michael’s hand tense on her back. “Good evening.” She smiled and pulled her hand back. It would be better if she kept her distance from Terrence. Michael was obviously still brooding. There was no telling what might set his protective instincts off.

  Terrence looked from her to Michael and back.

  Carissa could see that he had picked up on something in Michael’s posture that set him on edge.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in.” Terrence stepped back, clear
ing the doorway. “I’ve been going over that file you sent me.”

  Carissa relaxed a little as Michael’s hand softened against her back. She stepped over the edge of a metal doorframe. It was raised several inches from the floor with a rubber gasket wrapped around its curved edge, very like bulkhead doors on ships. The room that opened up in front of her was unique. Living room, office, kitchen, and bedroom all rolled into one long room.

  “Did you find anything?” Michael asked as he followed her in.

  A fallout shelter! Carissa’s eyes finally recognized the utilitarian building for what it was. The man was living in a fallout shelter! What kind of weirdo were they dealing with?

  “Lots of stuff,” Terrence answered as he pulled the door shut and sealed them in. “I think you might have a bigger problem on your hands than you thought. And, what did you do to your hair?”

  “It’s a long story.” Michael sighed and ran his hand through his white locks. “Can you show me what you’ve got?”

  “Sure.”

  Carissa stood there, forgotten, as the two men made their way to a table covered in papers. Stifling a yawn, she found a comfortable-looking, oversized beanbag and helped herself to it. The last few days had been amazingly long. She listened to the men chatter on, trying to understand, but the rise and fall of their voices eased her into sleep.

  ***

  “What is she to you?”

  Terrence’s words drew Michael’s attention away from his study of Carissa’s sleeping face. God, she was beautiful. Michael would love to wake up to that face every morning, with her soft curls tangled around her head and those luscious lips slightly parted. Desire burned in him again. For a while, he had been able to push her from his mind and concentrate on figuring out his puzzle, but now that he had his answers, it came back with a vengeance.

  “She saved me.” Michael turned back to his friend. He had already told Terrence about their escape.

  Terrence looked up at Michael’s white hair. “She did a bit more than just that.” His change in nature had been included in the story. “And, she stuck around. What are you going to do, now?”

  “What do you mean?” Michael glanced back at Carissa. He had an idea of where Terrence was going.