Hunted by the Dragon (Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Book 4) Page 6

  Hector swiped a thumb across her mouth. Stewie chuckled.

  “I said, do you understand?” Hector yelled.

  Jules jolted at the harsh sound before nodding once. Playing it stupid would not help her get out of there. She’d have to wait and watch and pray for a way to escape. “Yeah, Hector, I understand you perfectly.”

  Chapter 11

  The idea of Jules and the trucker burned into Sean’s mind, filling him with jealousy. How could she think of another man after they’d been together? Every fiber of his being knew she belonged with him. And, yet, he’d watched as she walked to the restrooms, giving one last lingering smile at the man she was with. The trucker made what appeared to be a text message on his cellular, threw cash down on the table, glanced around like a boy about to receive his first real sword and followed Jules. Sean waited for the man to come back. He didn’t. Seconds ticked on, each plucking at his soul like a razorblade. Is this how she paid for her rides?

  He tried to act inconspicuous by wandering through the store section, but his eyes kept straying toward the restrooms. A blockade had been set up so a janitor could mop the floors. Sean fingered a candy bar, tapping it against the palm of his hand in agitation. He tried to listen down the hall for Jules, but an unseen worker ran some kind of machine that made a loud grinding noise. Tracking her would be so much easier if he were on his home planet. His hand twitched, and he realized he was crushing the candy.

  “Sir, can I help you?” A young cashier looked at him. Her hands thrust into the pockets of her black uniform apron. She tilted her head to the side, the long length of her brunette ponytail swinging to and fro.

  “Does the janitor normally clean this time of day?” He asked, tossing the warped candy bar back onto the shelf.

  “I don’t think so. He comes in during the early morning hours unless some kid puked in the bathrooms again,” she answered with a shrug. “Why? You need to go? Just head on back. You won’t get in trouble. That caution sign isn’t a law or anything. No one cares if you walk on the wet floor.”

  “What about the rooms you rent to truckers? Who does that?” Sean fought the sick feeling in his stomach.

  “Oh, you want a room? I do that up here at the register, but you have to be a trucker. Are you a trucker?” She had a small bounce in her step as she disappeared behind the sales counter to grab a ledger.

  “Yes.” Sean nodded.

  “Great,” her bubbly voice answered. “Fifty bucks will get you a room for the rest of the afternoon and evening and a shower. Plus, you get ten percent off any beverage purchase.”

  “What rooms are taken, um,” Sean glanced at her nametag, “Sharon.”

  “Uh,” Sharon looked confused, even as she looked at her ledger. “Just room three and six. Actually, six will be open in an hour. Some lady trucker checked in late last night and has a wake-up call scheduled. Why? You superstitious and need a certain room number?”

  “Give me room one,” Sean said, digging out his wallet. He threw a fifty on the table. The cashier never asked for an ID or proof he drove a semi, just slid a paper over for him to sign.

  Sharon glanced down at the paper, handed over a key with the number “one” written on the side with permanent marker, smiled and said, “Thanks, Mr. Smith.”

  Chapter 12

  Jules had no idea how much time passed between Hector’s talking, the lifeless eyes of the trucker’s corpse staring at her, the leer of Hector’s goons, and the frantic beat of her heart resounding in her ears. Each measured second stretched, pulsing with fear and adrenaline. Her knee throbbed, and she knew she couldn’t run very fast. She wouldn’t have to make it far. If she could just escape the room, she might make it to the restaurant, to public, to safety.

  The side of her head pulsated from where she’d been struck, payback from having hit Hector as she ran out of the restroom. Her stiff neck was a present from Truckerman’s rough handling. The nausea could be blamed on any of her captors.

  The fact no one heard or saw her abduction didn’t surprise her. People were unaware by nature and without a loud gunshot to jolt them from their comfortable lives they wouldn’t pay any attention to some behind-the-wet-floor-sign struggle beyond their small universes. The noise would be drowned out in a sea of conversation, clanking silverware, deafening arcade machines and truck stop staff busily at work. She’d seen it happen plenty of times. Once, she’d gotten into a fight with a prostitute in an alley behind a bar. Even with all the crashing and irate screams, no one from the passing sidewalk came to investigate. The bitch had shoved her into a pile of fluorescent light bulbs leaning against a dumpster. It took hours to wash the glassy powder out of her hair.

  Snapping fingers drew her wandering mind back to the present. This situation was much, much worse. A cold chill worked over her, despite the hot room. The contents of her messenger bag were strewn around the bed from Stewie rummaging through her belongings. They’d searched her for a wire, leaving her shirt torn and her bra exposed. The fact amused her—like she intended to set them up with her elaborate plan of running away and going into hiding.

  Jules swung her knees to the side, pressing them tightly together beneath the skirt. The sensation of their hands on her, touching and searching, was much like what she imagined swarming roaches would feel like on her flesh. Stewie’s widening grin as he stared at her torn shirt irritated her, and she wished to scratch the expression from his ugly face.

  “Who did you tell?” Hector asked, standing beside her.

  “Oh, good, the interrogation part.” Jules gave a derisive laugh. She would never give him the satisfaction of crying and pleading. Tears didn’t sway men like Hector, but rather they were empowered by them. “I thought I was going to have to listen to you talk all day.”

  “You know, Jules.” Hector laughed, pointing his finger at her. “I like you.”

  “Well, I’m not looking for a relationship right now,” she quipped, “but thanks for thinking of me.”

  His laughter grew. He turned to his men. “She is a very funny lady.”

  “You want me to tell her a few jokes, boss?” Jose asked, menacingly.

  “No.” Hector gently touched her face. “I want to take her back to the city. Vamos a ver como la señora le gusta ser una prostituta?”

  The men laughed. Stewie’s leer only deepened.

  “Besa mi culo. I will never be your whore,” Jules swore, moving to stand. Glaring at him, she hissed, “Sacate a la chingada.”

  “You,” he pointed at her, hesitating as if surprised she understood what he had been saying, “tell me to go to hell? I own hell, maldita puta. I am the devil. When I get done pumping your veins full of heroína, you’ll do whatever I tell you, whoever I tell you.”

  She opened her mouth to retort, but a loud crash interrupted her. The lock on the door busted, and the wood splintered. Jules automatically lifted her arms to protect her face. By the time the debris quit hitting her legs, and she’d lowered her arms, Stewie lay on the floor, and a blurry image swung at Jose. Jules didn’t think, just acted. She leaped toward a surprised Hector, ramming her shoulder into his chest to knock him over. Her knee bumped his legs, and she cried out as the pain caused her to stumble awkwardly. A steady hand caught her from behind. She turned to her rescuer, only to come face to face with an otherworldly creature. Dark brown skin covered his face with a hard shell. The forehead, nose, and brow formed a protective ridge over his yellow, reptilian eyes. He was part man, part dragon, and there was something familiar about him. Before she could speak, he flung her toward the door to safety.

  As her back hit against the frame, she gasped for breath. The two men on the floor bled at the temples and didn’t move. The dragon creature had Hector pressed against the wall by his throat. Only, it wasn’t a creature. It was Sean. She recognized him by the stance of his body, and the breadth of his shoulders. He drew his fist back. Hector smirked as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Nice mask,” Hector mocked. “Is
that supposed to scare me, lizard boy?”

  “Sean,” Jules whispered, confused. She felt her head to see if she’d bumped it. Was this a full-blown delusion? Or had she indeed seen the dragon man come to her rescue? “Sean?”

  Wait, no. Hector saw it, too. Only he assumed it was a mask.

  Sean’s weight shifted. Talons grew from the tips of his fingers. She couldn’t let him stab Hector. Even if the scumbag deserved it, she wouldn’t let Sean commit murder over her. “Sean, you can’t.”

  Sean’s hand tensed, and his knuckles turned white.

  “You better listen to her, Sean,” Hector taunted, clearly not seeing the razor blades growing from Sean’s fingers. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  Sean growled. Like a striking snake, his hand shot forward. The talons retracted seconds before he struck the side of Hector’s head just behind his temple. The man crumpled, the smirk still lingering on his features.

  Relief filled her as Sean rushed across the room, maneuvering over three unconscious men and a corpse. The dragon mask molded into human flesh as he came for her. Within seconds, all traces of his alter ego had disappeared.

  “Sean,” Jules tried to reason what she was seeing.

  “Did you touch anything?” he asked. “Brian taught me about prints.”

  Jules glanced around, unable to remember. She lifted her hands toward the bed. “Yes?”

  “Where?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled again, staring at his face.

  “Jules, sweetheart, did they touch you?” His eyes went to her torn shirt. “Did they—?”

  “You…” She lifted her shaky hand to point at his face.

  “Jules, try to concentrate. Did they harm you?” His finger brushed over the side of her face where Hector had struck her.

  The sting of her bruise woke her from her daze. “No, no, they just tried to scare me.”

  “We need to leave.”

  Jules nodded in understanding. She rushed to the bed, shoving her belongings into the messenger bag.

  “We have to wipe for prints.” Sean reached into his pocket to search for something to clean up her fingerprints.

  “There isn’t time.” She tugged on his arm. “The door’s busted. We can’t chance them waking up. More of Hector’s men could be on their way. We have to go now. Hector will undoubtedly take care of the evidence if the authorities don’t find him passed out next to a dead body.”

  Sean looked like he wanted to argue, but let her pull him out of the room. The hall was empty, and Jules thanked her lucky stars for small favors.

  “Here.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Put this on.”

  She did, slipping her arms through the sleeves as they walked. His warmth and scent surrounded her and made her feel safe. Tugging the front together, she hid her bloodstained shirt. Jules glanced behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed. She grabbed the wet floor sign and pulled it a few feet back to block the hallway leading to the rooms, making sure to pick it up with the leather coat between her skin and the plastic. It wouldn’t do to get her prints on anything else. With any luck, the room would be so dirty from guests they wouldn’t be able to find her.

  Sean stopped her before they reached the store area, making her look at him. Serious eyes moved over her features as he pulled his fingers through her hair, straightening the locks. She flinched as he bumped the bruise on her face and leaned back to look at his fingers. They appeared human.

  “I can explain later, but for now, I need you to know that I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. Jules hesitated and then nodded. She was more frightened of Hector than of Sean’s whatever-it-was. Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he led her down the hall to the restaurant section.

  “Keep your head by my chest.” He pulled her against him. Her hair fell over her cheeks, hiding the side of her face. The warmth of him spread through her. He laughed and his voice became louder than before, as he said for the benefit of anyone listening, “I already told you, sweetheart, we won’t be in New York for a few more days, but I promise you, you can do your shopping then.”

  She glanced up at him with a wry look, arched a brow, but said nothing. He walked her outside, keeping their pace slow, but not too slow. She couldn’t help the relief she felt as she took a deep breath of fresh air. Jules hated to admit how scared she’d been and how glad she was that Sean came to her rescue.

  “So, shopping?” she asked.

  “It is a lady thing to do, right?” he answered. “I was trying to act casual. You have blood on your face and ripped clothing.”

  The thought of Truckerman’s blood on her skin caused her to stiffen. “Where are we going?”

  “Where I should have made you go three days ago,” he answered, walking faster. “Hell, where I should have made you go two years ago. I’m taking you home with me.”

  Chapter 13

  “What were you thinking, Jules?” Sean had kept his curiosity at bay as they journeyed down the interstate in the old pickup truck, navigating through the heavy traffic around Baltimore. They’d passed over the Patapsco River and along parts of the Chesapeake Bay, able to see the gorgeous views of the water from the road before turning inland. She’d cleaned her face with a bottle of water and put on one of his extra t-shirts. It would be nearly seven hours before they arrived in Boston. “I know you saw me change.”

  “Can’t we keep driving in silence?” She turned her eyes from where they’d been fixed alongside the road. Evening darkened the sky, casting gentle shadows over her face. When she looked at him, his chest tightened. His body knew her. Every nerve reached to bring her closer, his heart ached with the dull, broken pain only that organ could produce. But, how could someone be so familiar and such a stranger? No matter how much he needed her, he would not force himself on her, especially now that the dragon inside him had scared her. She kept her gaze focused on his face. “I know how to handle the silence.”

  Sean shook his head in denial. He wanted to reach for her and take her hand in his, but it didn’t appear like she wanted his comfort. Looking at her and not being able to hold her only intensified his loneliness.

  “I can explain.” Sean gripped the steering wheel tight. He needed to tell her.

  “You can explain how you changed forms into some supernatural lizard?” Jules gave a small, humorless laugh. “I’m just happy I’m not crazy. When you rescued me the first time, I thought I saw…something. Detective Flaherty convinced me I was insane after the blow to my head. But it seemed real, as real as the memory of my mother’s face. And so I was convinced I had brain damage. I had dreams about it. My mind was obsessed with it. I read romance novels about it. Now I know it was you. I’m not crazy. You’re a supernatural lizard.”

  “I’m a dragon-shifter from another planet. Not a supernatural lizard something.”

  “Dragon-shifter alien.”

  “I don’t know that I am an alien, not like the Reticulans are aliens. I came here through a portal from another planet on the night we first met, but my people left Earth long ago through that same portal. The night we met was our first trip back in centuries.”

  “Centuries,” she repeated.

  “We are called the Draig. Maybe you’ve heard of us?” Sean asked, his tone almost hopeful. He often wondered if any of his kind had been left behind on the planet when their elders first moved to Quirlixen. What if they were in hiding?

  “Draig? No.”

  “How about the Var? Cat-shifters? They came with us through the portals too.”

  “Cat-shifters? No.” She shook her head in slow denial and kept staring at him with a strange look on her face.

  “Are you…?” He glanced at her in worry.

  “In shock?” she finished. “Not really. I’m just listening, taking it all in. Please go on.”

  “We were not expecting humans to be so,” he paused, tapping the wheel as he drove, “so how you are.”

  “You sound like you’re from here,” she said.
“More so than when I came to visit you after my attack.”

  “Duncan taught me to blend. He said I am a quick study.”

  “Ah, yes, Detective Flaherty.”

  “The Flaherty family has been good to me. They have taken me in and shown me the ways of your kind. Had they not intervened, I would be living as a wild man in the forest.” Sean gave her a meaningful look. “When I first came to your planet, I didn’t know who to trust. I wasn’t supposed to stay, or reveal myself, or even interact if it could be avoided. My rulers made that very clear. I heard you scream and then…well, you know the rest. Duncan saw what I was, and since I saved Brian while saving you, they returned the favor. They took me in. They fed me. They taught me how to blend. Duncan secured papers to make me appear as if I belonged on this planet and let me use the family name. They shortened Seanan of the Draig to Sean Flaherty. If no one looks too closely at my background, I should remain safe. Fillan Flaherty helped me buy a place to live. Rory Flaherty taught me how to battle Earth-style without shifting with DVD movie tutorials. Brian helped me to register as a bounty hunter with the Boston Earth governing authority and to make contact with local bail bondsmen, who in turn hire me as an independent hunter. They don’t ask questions because I always bring in the bad guys.”

  “Whoa, ah, Sean, watch the road.” Jules braced her hand against the dashboard. He realized he’d been staring at her intently instead of watching where he was steering and quickly corrected the truck’s course off the interstate’s shoulder.

  “I apologize. I was raised riding ceffyls and they don’t require as much direction as your vehicles.”

  “Do ceffyls walk slow?”

  He frowned and nodded. “They keep a steady pace. Why?”

  Jules gave a tired laugh. “Because you drive slower than a grandma with night blindness.”

  “I drive at the pace set by your governing rulers.” He pointed to the dashboard and then a passing road sign to show her the speed matched.