His Dragon Protector Page 17

  Vince strode through the ballroom doors looking naked without his axe, and Seth smacked my arm even though I saw him and the small group of other Redcaps that flowed into the room around him. “They came.” He grinned up at me. “I didn’t think they would.”

  “Me either.”

  “They don’t have Evan.” Seth stared for a second and then his expression slipped into a scowl.

  “I wouldn’t have expected them to.”

  Vince headed directly for us. I wasn’t shocked, since this was supposed to be a party for the new babies and our mating, but I didn’t like the way that Vince was staring at Seth like he was about to yell at him. I handed Brant to Seth and stepped directly in front of him, as insulting as that was to Vince.

  “How goes life, Vince?” Carlisle cut in. Dressed in a gray suit, he came up fast on our left, clearly having seen Vince and deciding he didn’t like the look on his face either.

  “Where is he?” Vince said, nearly yelling.

  “Who?” I asked. Seth slid a few steps to my right to glare around me, and Vince turned toward him.

  “Evan. We think he got some wild ideas hairing around in his head after talking to this one.” He pointed directly into Seth’s face, and I balled my hand into a fist. “Thirty years we’ve kept to ourselves to protect him and then we wake up today and he’s just gone. Vanished like a fig fart in the wind. Have you seen him?”

  Seth quickly shook his head. “Nope, can’t say that I have, but can you blame a guy? He’s been cooped up in one place that long? He’s gotta be like a rat in a tin shithouse. I’d’ve jetted, too.”

  “You are not helping,” I mumbled.

  “Well, what? It’s the truth.” Seth rolled his eyes. “You didn’t expect him to stay there forever, did you?”

  Ace and Tennyson strolled over to join Bishop, but it couldn’t have been more obvious that they were arriving because of the way Vince’s voice had carried over the rest of the party. Bishop didn’t take his eyes away from Vince, and Ace shifted around to try to get behind him, but one of the other Redcaps shook his head and Ace laughed, like it was all in good fun—except I had no doubt he’d hurt Vince if he needed to. Bishop glanced my way and if I didn’t know better, I would say he looked guilty. What had he been up to?

  “This is a happy occasion.” Carlisle broke the tension by offering his hand to Vince. With a glare, Vince shook his hand. There was some straining, but by the end of the machismo test, they were both laughing. “If Evan is missing, we’ll help you look for him. Was there evidence that he was stolen away?”

  “Well, no,” Vince said and looked skyward. “In fact, it seemed like he packed a bag and left.”

  Carlisle nodded, and Vince’s face grew red. “We need to find my nephew.”

  “And we will,” Carlisle said, “but first, why don’t you eat something?”

  Vince allowed himself to be led away, and the Redcaps with him drifted along in his wake, almost like they weren’t sure what to do at a party that didn’t allow shifting and weapons.

  “Oh my god, that guy,” Seth muttered furiously, staring daggers after Vince.

  “Stop that.”

  “Nah,” he said, and I had to laugh. Bishop hadn’t moved and Ace and Tennyson were talking quietly to each other. I left Seth muttering under his breath.

  Stepping up beside Bishop, I asked him softly, “Do you know where Evan is?”

  Bishop shook his head, but a small smile curled his lips. “No. It’s good to see he has a backbone, isn’t it?”

  Bishop resisted when I urged him a few steps to the side. I’d have never chanced my question in a quiet room, but Brant began a crying fit to beat all, and Seth made his way to the corner of the room where we had a few bags of baby things while Brant continued to give his lungs a good workout.

  “So, where do you have him stashed?”

  “He’s a man, not guns. He’s around.” Bishop shrugged and his smile grew wider.

  Bishop and I weren’t the closest of friends, but I felt for him. I’d seen some of what he’d gone through over the years and the way he was always an outsider in our clan in some ways, being without true family of his own.

  “I’m a doctor, so I’m asking this… not in a… uh… he’s all right? Yes? Wherever he is, he went of his own free will?”

  Bishop sighed and ran a hand over the top of his head. The look he sent me had me removing my hand from where I’d rested it on his arm.

  “Yes, and yes, and I’ll be motherfucked if he’s ever going back to Vince. Seth’s right. He wasn’t happy there.” His voice slipped low and sounded far more dragon-like than it should in a ballroom. Nervously, I patted his arm.

  “I’ll just trust your judgment on that, but a word to the wise—the china belonged to Carlisle’s grandmother, and he’ll be mad if any of it gets broken. So… avoidance in this situation is key.”

  Bishop roared with laughter and we made our way together toward a buffet table, one far away from Carlisle and Vince.

  19

  Seth

  Thunder cracked outside and Brant snuffled in his sleep at the boom. I laughed, tickling his little chin. I loved my imp more than I could stand most of the time. My pestering made Brant’s adorable little brows furrow, and I snickered. I kept at it and finally, I knew I’d taken things too far when there were tiny crackles and pops and he rippled in my arms. One second I was holding a baby, the next I had a sleeping little dragon with destroyed clothing wrapped around him.

  “Aw, shoot.”

  “You were tickling him again,” Mason accused with a chuckle. He looked so fuckin’ good tonight in a black suit that I wanted to climb that dragon like a tree and then some. We were in the front room of Carlisle’s fancy-schmancy house getting ready to go upstairs to one of the guest rooms, even though Mason had his big old house nearby, newly equipped with the best in home security, or so he claimed.

  “Well, yeah.” I shrugged.

  “He doesn’t like it.” Mason came over to stroke one of Brant’s pretty, shiny little claws. They had a bluish gleam to them.

  “But he’s so cute when he makes that face.”

  Mason sighed and began to help me untangled the clothing from around Brant, letting the tattered cloth drop to the floor. “He’s going to pee on you one of these times, or worse.”

  “Oh, well, worth it,” I chuckled.

  There was a knock on the front door and Mason stopped helping me to go answer it. “Someone must have forgotten something,” he said absently. “It’s been a while, though, since everyone left. I wonder what?”

  He opened the door and groaned. “Look at you. Are you okay? Come in out of the rain, come in.”

  “Is the party over?” Evan’s soft voice lilted into the room and my heart jerked. I turned toward it. “I was trying to get here before it was over, but after Vince left. I knew they wouldn’t let me come, but I wanted to anyway.”

  Evan came toward me and went in for a hug. He was dressed… well, the way he probably always does, like some renaissance goober or an elf or some crap, but it worked for him. His long blond hair was soaked and hung around his face. Anyone else, I might have shoved off, I wasn’t a hugger, but Evan was such a sweet guy that I let him. I even gave him an extra squeeze back.

  “The baby is so cute! I didn’t think he’d be a dragon!” Evan tickled one of Brant’s little feet and I grinned.

  “That’s what I keep sayin’,” I mumbled, and Evan laughed.

  “Did I hear the door?” Haiden called as he came down the stairs. He had Charlotte with him, and Evan nearly stroked out when he arrived at the bottom of the staircase and there were two babies around—a baby baby, and a dragon. It was cute the way he bounced his attention between Charlotte, who was admittedly adorable too, and Brant. Haiden gave him a hug and then there was a baby exchange even though Evan was dripping water onto the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” Haiden asked. He shoved his glasses up his nose and frowned back at the front d
oor.

  “I wanted to come to the party, but I guess I missed it,” Evan said. “That’s okay. This is the best part, though.”

  “Oh, you did not miss the party. Come on,” Haiden said with one of his patented shy smiles. I wish I knew how he managed those because every time he used one on Carlisle, the big goof folded faster than origami.

  We strolled through the ungodly huge house into the equally overdone kitchen together, Evan holding Charlotte, but casting eyes toward Brant. I laughed and passed him over, so that Evan had both babies, but Mason must not have liked that because he took Charlotte while I rolled my eyes at Haiden and we shared a laugh.

  “What’s all this?”

  The kitchen was a mess of leftover food—stacked bowls of chips and pretzels, cases of cakes and cupcakes, and Haiden was already on his way to the fridge.

  “The party,” Haiden said over his shoulder. “Basically, all a party is, is bad-for-you food and good company.”

  Evan laughed and gawked around until he found some fancy cupcakes with dragons on them and candies that I’d thought were a little over the top, but Evan couldn’t stop staring at them. I took Brant from him. He carefully opened the plastic container to get at the goods, like he wasn’t used to it.

  “Go ahead. Here…” I snagged him a can of Coke from an open box and slid it his direction. He stared at the can as if it was a snake that might bite him. I popped the tab for him, and he jumped when it hissed.

  “It’s a sweet drink.”

  Evan eyed me up but tasted it. He let out an excited sound and gulped half the can in one go.

  “Go easy on it,” Mason said, “because—”

  Evan wrinkled his nose, set the can on the counter and proceeded to sneeze and burped at the same time. He gazed at the can and pursed his lips.

  “Yeah, that’s why you gotta take it slow there, pal,” I said, and we all laughed.

  Carlisle came into the kitchen and I was cringing well before he came to a dead stop when he laid eyes on Evan. Everyone went quiet at the same time and we all stared at Carlisle, who groaned.

  “He has to go home. Now.”

  “But I just got here,” Evan said, and if it sounded too whiny, well, he deserved to be irritated after the way he was treated.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m duty bound to return you to Vince’s care, especially after he asked me for help finding you.” Carlisle rubbed the back of his neck and I could already see that he wanted to cave. He might talk a big talk, but I didn’t think he liked the way that Evan had been treated, either.

  “Vince’s care? He’s an adult,” I said.

  “You don’t understand,” Carlisle fired back.

  “What don’t I understand? You’re making all sorts of decisions for people with brains in their heads, as far as I can see.” My voice sort of just exploded without me giving it permission and both babies started crying, which tugged at something in my gut and made me cuddle Brant. He didn’t cry as a dragon, so much as make this loud keening sound that made me want to destroy anything that was near him whenever he did it. I had an armful of squirming little dragon.

  “Mason, explain it to him,” Carlisle said over the ruckus.

  I crossed my eyes and turned toward Mason, who only laughed and backed away because he wasn’t a total idiot. “Oh, no. Nope. Nuh uh.”

  “Carlisle, why don’t you explain to him why you have to drag his friend back to an isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere, like he’s stuck in some sort of demented fairy tale?” Haiden shocked us all when he piped up. “I’d like to hear that one myself.”

  Clapping carried to us and we turned to see Larkin, wearing an old band T-shirt and shorts, like maybe we’d dragged him out of bed. His blond hair stuck up everywhere.

  “Bravo. Maybe they’ll listen to you two. I’m appalled on Evan’s behalf.”

  Evan laughed and mumbled a quiet “thanks” that I could barely hear.

  Mabel came into the kitchen in a robe and fluffy pink slippers. I wasn’t sure how many of Carlisle’s cousins were staying the night, but she was one of my favorites. She was curvy and roundish, and always cheery. She walked over and took one of the extra cupcakes and popped herself beside Evan on a stool at the counter.

  Bishop prowled into the room after her, and Evan, who had his finger covered in icing, stuck it in his mouth and nearly fell right off his stool.

  “Enough, I’m taking him home tonight, and that’s final,” Carlisle said, though he glanced around like he was searching for anyone, anywhere, who might back him up.

  “I’ll take him,” Bishop said without missing a beat, and everyone turned to look at him. He was a rock, under all those stares, a goddamned wonder. I would’ve caved, myself.

  Mason snorted. “Oh, yeah. Vince would love that.”

  Evan stared at Bishop the way he had the cupcakes, and I rocked Brant who was still making a racket.

  “Enough. I’m taking him home,” Carlisle said again.

  “I think that Evan should decide who takes him where and does what with him, but that’s just me,” I said, nice and loud, so no one could miss it.

  “If I must be returned home,” Evan said quietly, “I wouldn’t mind Bishop escorting me.”

  “That’s not happening. We’ll figure this out in the morning. Come along,” Carlisle said to Evan. “We’ll get you a room to stay the night in. Let’s go.” Carlisle glared at all of us, daring us to say another word. I thought about it, but Mason shook his head at me and tilted his head toward Bishop, who seemed antsier than a sinner in church.

  Mason slid up beside me and whispered in my ear, “How do you think Evan got here?”

  All I could do was snicker as we followed everyone else out of the room. I hadn’t counted on Evan being such a wild card. I only hoped he was able to get around Carlisle somehow, and if I could think of a way to help, I would.

  20

  Seth

  Two Months Later

  “Booger, you get back here. Right now!” Winded, I ran up the stairs after my baby boy and saw his tail disappear around the pillar for the railing. We were in the house in Charleston, which I hated, because it was too fucking big, in my opinion, and gave Brant too many places to disappear. Every time I couldn’t find him, I had twelve heart attacks.

  “Would you please, for the love of everything, stop calling our child Booger?” Mason asked, his eyes flashing with exasperation as he bounded up the stairs beside me. He’d just arrived home from the clinic and he had his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows like he was getting ready to rumble, and with our kid, that wasn’t that far outside of the facts. His dark hair was already everywhere from running around, rather than in the slick hairdo he’d left the house with this morning.

  “Then he needs to stop acting like one.” I clutched my side with one hand and pointed toward the direction my sweet little angel dragon had disappeared racing along the hall toward the open door at the end. Our bedroom. I growled. I was sure I had all the doors closed earlier.

  “He’s a baby,” Mason said. I stopped long enough to kick him and he laughed.

  “No. Babies don’t run.” I skidded into the bedroom and fell flat on my ass. In the corner, there was a huge wooden thing—full of clothes—and my heart danced on the back of my tongue as I saw Brant claw his way up to the top, leaving gouges in what was no doubt an expensive antique as he pushed himself higher using his claws. “He’s a dragon right now, and he’s on top of the damned closet thingy, and I can’t get him. What if he gets hurt?”

  Mason chuckled, the asshole not looking enough out of breath for my tastes. “It’s an armoire.”

  “I don’t care what the hell it’s called, he’s up there.”

  Mason rolled his eyes, and I was a little satisfied to see some of my bad habits sticking to Mr. Goody Two-Shoes. “If Brant got himself up there, sweetheart, he’s not going to get hurt.” He tried to wrap me up in his arms to calm me down, which I was having none of. I shoved him off and ran my hands
through my hair while I watched my baby teeter on the high ledge well out of my reach. I got myself up and sped over to… well, be there to catch him if I needed to. He flicked his pretty little wings, but I knew he couldn’t fly with them.

  “Mason, I am not fucking equipped to deal with this. I can deal with dirty diapers, and I can deal with midnight feedings, and I can deal with the Wi-Fi going out once in a while, but my baby on top of that closet thingy? No. And what if he gets outside like this? What if someone sees him or hurts him?” My eyes got burny and leaky and I wanted to die as I swiped at them, mostly from the embarrassment of getting this worked up. I wanted to be all blasé about death-defying stunts from my baby the way that Mason was, but— “I don’t give a rat’s ass if he is a dragon, he’s my little boy, and if he gets hurt—”

  “Shh,” Mason said and hugged me, but the fucker was still laughing, so I kicked him again, and this time I connected square. He grunted, but he didn’t stop snickering.

  “I’ll get him down.”

  “You do that.”

  He grabbed a chair from the corner of the room, one of those big old unwieldy turn-of-the-century things that littered the house, and went to get up on top of the armwhatsit, and then Brant was sailing from the top, tiny little wings spread, heading directly toward the floor. I gasped and, heart in my throat, I dove to catch him. I wrapped his warm, wiggly body up in my arms and then promptly collapsed to the floor, cuddling him close. I squenched my eyes shut and sighed.

  “Booger,” I said, “You gotta stop giving me all these heart attacks, babe. Don’t you love your Daddy? Don’t you want him to see your first birthday?”

  He made his happy dragon noise in my ear, which sounded a lot like a baby laughing to me right now.

  “He’s fine.” I opened my eyes to Mason staring down at me, his feet on either side of my head. “I think even if he’d have hit the floor, he would be fine.”

  “Shut it.” Brant tried to squirm away, even dug his tiny, sharp little claws into my shirt to get leverage, but I held him tight.