I Dream of Dragons (Boston Dragons) (15 page)

“’Tis the unexpected that makes life interesting.” He brushed her hair away from her face with such a gentle touch that she wanted to sigh.

He bent over her and initiated his slow, drugging kiss all over again. She slipped her arms around his neck and let him sweep her away from all the tension of the past forty-eight hours.

Life was interesting, all right. And becoming more interesting by the minute.

* * *

Conlan Arish entered the Belfast home he shared with his two brothers. “Aiden! Eagan! Where are you? I have big news about our bastard cousins.”

Eagan appeared first. “What bastard cousins? Did our da have a mistress we don’t know about?”

Conlan blew out a frustrated breath. “No, idjit. I just meant it as a feckin’ insult. I’m talkin’ about Rory, Shannon, and Chloe Arish. Our thievin’ cousins.”

“What about them?” Aiden asked as he strode in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“They’ve left the castle open and unguarded, and no one seems to know where they went.”

The brothers glanced at one another. Eagan scratched his head. “How do you know this?”

“I just came from the pub. Everyone is talkin’ about a castle on a cliff in Ballyhoo that just appeared out of nowhere.”

“And you think it’s
our
castle?”

“Who said this?” Eagan demanded. “Was it a reputable source?”

“Is a man of the cloth reputable enough for you? A certain Father Joseph is up here visitin’ our Father Benedict.”

“I suppose he has no reason to lie,” Eagan said. “So…a castle built into the cliffs appeared in Ballyhoo. Is that right?”

“That must mean the leprechauns are no longer hidin’ it.” Aiden crossed his arms. “I wonder what happened.”

Conlan shrugged. “Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps the Arish cousins insulted the wee shites.”

Aiden smirked. “Aye. They could do that by breathin’ wrong.”

Conlan shook his head. “Feckin’ leprechauns. So touchy. Last I heard, the lot of our cousins moved into a caretaker’s cottage. Some nonsense about not wantin’ to use their wings to get into the castle. Thought they’d cause a panic or somethin’.”

“I was so young when we left the south of Ireland that I don’t even remember what the castle looked like, never mind where it was,” Aiden said.

“Aye.” Conlan scratched his head. “I was the oldest and barely have any memory of it. Our ma was so afraid we’d be killed for the sins of our father that she whisked us out of there the very minute she became a widow.”

Aiden grinned. “If our birthplace is exposed and unguarded, we can finally go to see it.” His grin grew wicked. “And by ‘see it,’ I mean pillage it.”

Conlan laughed. “I’ve never participated in a good ol’-fashioned pillagin’. Accordin’ to our dear, departed nurse, the keep was full of treasure.”

“How would she know?” Eagan asked.

Conlan just shrugged. “Servants always seem to know everythin’ that goes on.”

Aiden pounded his fist on his own palm. “Now that the castle is exposed and unguarded, we should go and take what’s ours.”

Eagan frowned. “I wonder if our cousins just moved to another house and are still livin’ nearby.”

“If so, we can take ’em. There’s only Rory to worry about. The two females wouldn’t stand a chance against the three of us,” Aiden said.

“Ah, don’t underestimate the lasses. Even as a child Chloe was a scrapper. They must be full-grown women by now—and dragons to boot. After all, it’s been a few hundred years since we’ve laid eyes on ’em,” Conlan cautioned his siblings.

“I’ve always wondered why our da didn’t defeat his brother,” Eagan scratched his head. “He was bigger and stronger.”

“And younger,” Conlan added.

“I suspect our uncle must have cheated to win. But with no evidence and no witnesses left alive, we may never know,” Aiden said through gritted teeth.

Eagan smiled. “Perhaps there will be a clue in the castle.”

“Perhaps the leprechauns know!” Aiden said.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Conlan said.

Aiden nodded. “It seems we need to take a trip to Ballyhoo.”

Eagan’s eyes widened. “And leave the safety of Ulster?”

Conlan snorted. “In case you didn’t notice, Ulster hasn’t always been safe.”

“It’s safe enough for us,” Eagan insisted.

“Fine. You stay here then,” Aiden said. “One of us should probably stay behind anyway—just in case the story is a ruse, and they plan to take this home and our whiskey-makin’ business from us too.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Conlan said. “Aiden and I should set off as soon as possible. Tourists and greedy locals might be carryin’ off our family heirlooms as we speak.”

“I’ll go pack. What weapons should we take?” Aiden asked.

“We have our fire. Let’s travel light and leave room in our baggage. If the story be true, we’ll reclaim as many of our ancestral treasures as we can fit in our bags and then go back for the rest.”

“That would be grand,” Eagan agreed.

“Perhaps we can take back the castle that was lost in the wars so long ago,” Aiden added.

Eagan nodded. “Our da would be proud.”

Conlan stroked his chin. “We’ll devise a surprise attack on the way. If our Ballyhoo cousins are still there, they won’t know what hit ’em.”

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday!”

Amber broke the hot kiss. “Damn it! Not now…”

Rory leaned away from her, looking concerned. “Did I go too far? I didn’t think my hands were wanderin’, but they coulda had a mind o’ their own. If so, I apologize.”

“No, no.” She struggled to sit up. “It wasn’t that. I-I need some privacy. Can you give me a few minutes?”

He levered himself off her mattress. “Of course. I’ll be right—well, you know where I’ll be.” He chuckled and left the bedroom, closing the door on his way out.

Amber muttered, “Talk about bad timing… This had better be a genuine air emergency.”

Without any further delay she disappeared into the ether.

A quick look at the scene had Amber’s heart in her throat. Both the pilot and copilot appeared to be unconscious.

“Oh no! A flight attendant is trying to land the plane,” Amber muttered. “That was always my worst fear.”

She stayed out of sight in the ether, but leaned forward behind the frightened woman’s shoulder. “You can do this,” she said. “Tell the answering tower you’re untrained and need detailed instructions to land safely.”

The flight attendant searched the panel. “What the hell do I use to talk to them?” she muttered. “I don’t think they heard me before.”

“Try again.”

The woman reached out a shaky finger and flipped the toggle button on. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday!” she shouted.

What could only be an air traffic controller answered immediately. “Flight 451, what is your emergency?”

“Oh, thank God,” she cried. “I’m a flight attendant with no pilot training. I need help landing the plane.”

“Why are you… What the hell happened to the pilot and copilot?”

“Both unconscious. Please, I need detailed instructions.”

“Okay, 451, I see you coming in fast and low. Can you see the runway?”

She squinted. “Yes. Barely.”

“Pull up on the steering column. You need to gain altitude and then we’ll talk about landing.”

“Okay,” she said in a shaky voice.

She had a death grip on the steering column and just stared at it.

Amber said, “Tilt the top toward you.”

The plane made a sharp ascent.

“You okay, 451?” the controller asked.

“Yes. I guess I pulled up a little abruptly.”

“That’s okay. You can level off now.”

She did what he said, and this time moved the wheel more slowly.

“Good job,” the controller said. “Now I need you to
gradually
turn the plane just a little while keeping her level. You don’t want to turn the wheel like a car.
Gently
pull one side of the wheel toward you. I want you to get the feeling of turning. Think you can do that?”

Amber was relieved that the air traffic controller was calm and reassuring—plus he knew how to land a plane!

“Okay. Here goes,” the flight attendant said.

The plane gradually headed toward the left.

“Good job, 451. Now turn back just as gradually and aim for the runway. I may have you circle if you’re not lined up. Do you understand?”

Her voice broke as she answered, “Yes. But what if another plane comes in for a landing?” Tears were forming in her eyes, and Amber knew the flight attendant’s composure was just about to give out.

“Already rerouted. We’ve cleared your path. You’re doing fine, 451,” the controller said.

“You need to stay calm,” Amber whispered in her ear. “Take a deep breath.”

The flight attendant sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Now, I want you to locate the landing gear. It’s the black switch on the left. Don’t push it yet. I just want you to know where it is.”

“I see it,” she said.

“Good. Now, I need you to circle by turning gradually like you did before. Are you ready to circle?”

“I’m still a ways out.”

“I know. But I want you to have plenty of room on approach. Okay?”

“Trust him,” Amber said.

“Okay,” the flight attendant said, and made a gradual left turn until she had made a complete circle.

“Good job, 451.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now I’m going to have you do the same thing, while tilting the steering wheel down
slightly.
”

“Oh, God,” she muttered. Tears started to roll down her cheeks, but with Amber’s encouragement she did what was asked of her, every step of the way.

“I wish the pilots would wake up and take over,” she muttered.

Amber wished they would too. They were alive, but unless she missed her guess, they had been drugged. This flight was never meant to land safely.

After another few minutes of detailed guidance, the plane was lined up with the runway and the landing gear was down.

“You’re coming in hot,” the controller said. “That means you need to pull back on the steering column.”

“But I’m—Oh, never mind.” She yanked back on the steering column as hard as she could and the engines stalled. The plane dropped and even though she had been over grass a few moments before, amazingly, she hit the runway. The flight attendant held on for dear life as the plane bounced hard enough for her feet to leave the floor. She saw fire engines at the ready. Lots of them.

She gulped and held on to the steering wheel with white knuckles. The plane bounced a few more times. The airport seemed to be rushing toward her as fast as the fire engines.

“Now turn in a circle again,” the air traffic controller said.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to come all this way and smash into your lovely tower,” she quipped.

He chuckled. “Yeah, let’s not do that.”

The wing took a beating as they circled on the tarmac, but eventually, the damn thing stopped. The flight attendant dropped to her knees and burst into tears.

“You did it!” both the controller and Amber exclaimed.

“With a lot of help from you,” the flight attendant managed to say between sobs.

“Hey, are you busy later?” the air traffic controller asked.

The flight attendant stopped sniffling and laughed. “I just plan to have a well-deserved nervous breakdown. Why?”

“I’d like to take you out for a drink—to celebrate.”

She grinned. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Amber felt like she was eavesdropping at this point and remembered a certain sexy scene in her own bedroom. As soon as she got there, Euterpe was waiting.

“Now can you see why we need you so badly?” she asked. “As the muse of air travel you can help save hundreds of lives in situations like that. I might be able to play a sad melody on my lyre, but it would just be music to die by.”

* * *

Chad the ghost had watched as Amber and Rory made out, and then he saw her push him away and ask for privacy. He was cursing Amber for being a “good girl” and ruining his entertainment when she disappeared!

He had been betting that she was
something
paranormal, just because this building attracted them like bears to beehives, but he had been thinking
witch
or
shapeshifter.
You know…something
normal.

This chick was like nothing he’d seen before.

Who up and disappears? Vampires can run so fast they seem to disappear, but she wasn’t nocturnal, and she hadn’t fed on anyone—yet. Besides, the bedroom door and window were closed. So where the hell did she go?

He was about to give up and report the mystery to Morgaine when Amber’s friend appeared, and seconds later, Amber reappeared. The friend may have been the one with supernatural powers, but Amber seemed pretty relaxed about it.

Then her friend called her the muse of air travel! What the…?

Apparently Amber possessed her own supernatural powers. That made more sense than having a human in the building. But a muse of
air travel
? He had to eavesdrop a little longer.

“She had plenty of help from the air traffic controller. I think she could have handled it without me,” Amber said.

Her friend laughed. “I doubt it. You may not have landed the plane, but you kept her calm and focused.”

“So did he.”

“Yeah, yeah. He did a nice job too.”

“I was wondering… Should I take some flight training classes?” Then Amber coughed. “When I can leave the apartment, that is.”

“You can sit in on classes if you want. I wouldn’t recommend enrolling, knowing you could be called out at any time.”

“Could I audit the class from the ether and be free to answer a Mayday call?”

“Yup.”

“What if Rory gets suspicious and starts searching for me? If he looks under the bed and in the closet, he’ll know I’m not here.”

“And that’s a problem because…”

“Because if I’m not here and he is, he wins the apartment. He’ll do a jig and toss my stuff out on the sidewalk.”

Euterpe chuckled. “I think he might have a different reaction to your absence.”

Amber’s brows knit. “What? Do you think he’d miss me?”

Her friend just winked and disappeared.

Hmmm
… That gave Chad pause. He wondered how, when, and in what way to report this juicy tidbit to the tenants—most importantly how to provide himself with the best entertainment value. He used to run off potential renters when they looked at his old apartment, and it was fun. But that got boring after a few decades, and now Gwyneth lived there with his blessing. Hey, at least he got to see a beautiful redhead naked in the shower.

But the tenants weren’t meeting again for a couple of nights. That meant he knew a secret for a little while. Maybe it was one he could use to have a little more fun.

* * *

Rory sat on the window seat, giving his sisters the futon. Chloe removed some things from a bag.

“I hope one of these is your size,” Shannon said. “We got a variety. I think M is too small, but we got one anyway. It looks pretty close to a woman’s size.”

“Mayhaps you can wear it if I can’t.”

Shannon gasped. “You think
any
men’s size would fit me?”

Chloe rose, strolled over to him, and slapped him upside the head. Then she returned to her seat on the futon. “That’s for Shannon, since I know she wouldn’t do it herself.”

“Thank you, Chloe,” Shannon said.

“Sorry,” Rory mumbled. He took one look at the yellow polo shirt, then placed it against his chest so his sisters could see his torso showing on both sides. “I wouldn’t dare stuff meself into this. I’d pop the stitches and then no one could use it.”

“All right,” Chloe said. “We also got you an L and an XL. They looked more like you.” She pulled two more shirts out of the bag, both like the first one but in different colors.

Rory examined both. “This might do the trick.” He left the blue L and took the red XL to the bathroom. After a quick, refreshing shower, he tried on the new red shirt. It emphasized the red stripe that grew from the widow’s peak in his auburn mane.

The people of Ballyhoo had stopped questioning it long ago. So far, no one in the apartment building had mentioned it. Perhaps because they were friends with Drake, who displayed a yellow stripe, and knew it signified a dragon’s clan. Besides, more and more humans were dying their hair with unusual colors. Rory liked to think dragons had started a fad.

The shirt fit just fine. Now, if his sisters had gotten something to fit his lower half, including a pair of boxers, he’d be forever grateful.

He emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel and the new shirt.

Shannon clapped. “It looks good on you, Rory.”

“Did you happen to think of me lower half?”

“We did, but it was near impossible to guess what size you might be,” Chloe said. “There were two sets of numbers on all the jeans and slacks.”

“But we were in luck,” Shannon added. “We found a store that carried everything Irish—from souvenirs to this!” She reached into another bag and pulled out a multicolored plaid kilt.

He chuckled. “It’ll cover me while I wash out what I have on. That’s good enough for now. At some point, when I can leave the apartment, I’ll have to try on a few jeans and figure out what numbers to ask for.” Then he gave them a quick bow. “I thank you.”

Chloe folded her arms. “Amber hasn’t given up yet, I take it.”

“She has not. She’s in the bedroom, along with everythin’ she owns.”

“What? You mean she had friends move all her things in there?”

“No, she hired a company. That’s all they do apparently. Three strong men carried in every stick of furniture and box from her old apartment.”

“Tell me you didn’t help her,” Chloe demanded.

Rory remained silent. What else could he do without tellin’ her what she didn’t want to hear?

“Bollocks,” Chloe sputtered.

Shannon crossed her legs at the ankles. “Why is it you don’t chide Chloe for her unladylike language?”

He gave his little sister a sly smile. “Because Chloe is a lost cause. You, there’s still hope for.”

Shannon giggled and Chloe elbowed her in the ribs.

“Ouch!”

“You’re just provin’ me point, Chloe. Play nice.”

“How about if we don’t play a’tall?” She examined her fingernails. “And after I was nice enough to find clothes to cover your naked ugliness.”

“Naked ugliness! And how would you know about me naked state? I always turn me back to you when shiftin’.”

“All men are ugly naked. All hairy and gross with a shriveled—”

“Stop!”

* * *

Amber heard shouting and emerged from her bedroom. She gazed at the three siblings, who were frowning at each other.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothin’,” Rory said quickly.

Chloe smirked. “We were just talkin’ about me brother’s hairy—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Rory was in front of her with one big hand covering her mouth. She mumbled something inarticulate and laughed.

Rory pulled his hand away but gave his sister the hairy eyeball.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something. I can go back into my room so you can finish your argument.”

“There’s no need for that, lass,” Rory said. “Me sister’s had her fun.”

He handed a bag to Shannon. “I thank you for your shoppin’ skills.”

“So there’s no trouble in sibling paradise?” Amber asked hopefully.