ROMANCE: Lion Protector (Paranormal Shifter BBW Military Romance) (Shapeshifter Alpha Male Short Stories Book 2) (150 page)

Chapter 15

Miles

              As the meeting seemed to be ending, aside from those staying to talk about Pan Humanity, I decided to return to my desk. I had a lot of work to do and a lot on my mind.

              “So, it was Tyler,” Chase said, startling me.

              “I didn’t realize you left, too,” I said.

              He cleared his throat and folded his arms. He wanted an answer to his question. I looked around and no one was close by.

              “Yes, but it was one time, Friday night. Then he dropped the bomb on me today that not only is he leaving to start Pan Humanity, but he also wants me to leave a job I just started, and enjoy, to join him,” I said.

              It was good to have someone to talk to.

              “Well, you said yes, right?” Chase asked.

              “No, I told him I would think about it,” I said weakly.

              “What’s to think about? A rich top like him wants to whisk you away to romance, a promotion and raise, and a company that has more possibility than your current employer. Gasp, I’m appalled,” he said, feigning disgust.

              “It’s just really sudden, and what makes you so sure I wasn’t top?” I asked, unsure how I felt about being assumed to be bottom.

              I had done both, once.

              “Miles,” Chase said.

              I nodded and focused back on the bigger issues.

              “Did you know he was gay?” I asked Chase.

              “I told you, we can read these things. I don’t think many people here know. He is definitely discreet. I do know that most think he doesn’t even date. Sure, you can look at him and tell he gets laid when he wants to, but if he is actually making some sort of plans with you he really means whatever he is saying. He has had the same assistant since he was able to have an assistant. He also seems to value relationships, because he and the Schmidts have been close for years,” he said.

              “And, he thinks he may love you, but that you both need to take things slow for now,” another voice said, entering the room.

              “Tyler,” I said.

              “Sorry about springing so much on you the past few days. It’s all true, though. You have an effect on people that I want to carry to the new company. You also have an effect on me that I would like to continue as well,” he said, joining our conversation.

              Chase excused himself to his office, but left the door open so he could hear.

              “Well, I think I could come around to the job, but I’m still sorting out how I feel. I’m still processing. Do I come out now? There is so much slang, I already don’t know half of what Chase says to me,” I said.

              My nervous side was showing, and Tyler was staring at me again.

              “Some things you just know, others you learn. I know that I have been living a quiet personal life and focusing on work. Now I know that I want to build something more that bridges the gap with someone important,” he said, stepping closer to me.

              “What if things don’t work out?” I asked.

              “Then I’m sure you can always get hired here again,” he said.

              “I mean you and me,” I said.

              “Oh, well, love is a lot like sex. Your heart will guide itself to pleasure,” he said.

              He stepped forward and kissed me without looking around to see who was there. I felt my heart beat a little faster and kissed him back deeply.

              “Well, I’ll have to speak with HR about interviewing for a new assistant again,” Chase said.

Dragon’s Desire

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Chapter 1: Matthew

              The museum was the pinnacle of the area. It held the town’s greatest treasures and it was where anyone could go to spend a rainy afternoon. The small city prided itself on keeping this historical landmark clean and tidy at all times, spending a considerable amount of money renovating it year after year.

              It was one of my favorite places to go. I remembered going there as a kid. Walking into the museum, thoughts of a medieval castle rushed through my head, with its long hallways and unfathomably high ceilings. As a boy, I cherished the days when we had school field trips to the ancient museum.

              An odd memory of breaking something at age seven stood out in my mind. It was my birthday, and my mom brought me there to spend the day with her. I dragged her everywhere, all over the place as my eyes swept along all the exhibits. The seemingly magical place made me want to stay there forever. In my daze I managed to walk right into a bust of Julius Caesar, knocking it down, shattering it into smithereens.

              To this day, I have no idea how my mother saved me from getting into trouble, but we managed to walk out of the museum without getting banned for life. She was an amazing woman.

              I probably would have worked at the museum if she was still alive. She had died not too long ago. Murdered. She left no clues as to what happened to her, a cold case opened and closed within a month. But it was this event that pushed me into my current career as a forensics detective. A darn good one at that.

              Some people found it weird that I messed around with dead bodies and fingerprints, but it somehow helped me stay sane. My work had helped many police detectives catch criminals and sociopaths, and that was all that mattered. As long as my work helped to save people, I was content.

              But now, sitting here on my couch with a TV dinner, a feeling of helplessness overcame me. The TV was turned onto the local news station and my eyes were glued to the screen. I watched in horror as my beloved museum burned to the ground. There were flames spewing out of the windows and smoke billowing all around it.

              The news reporter was trying to explain what had happened, but being horrified by the image, it was impossible to process his words. The place I thought would stand forever on Main Street was slowly being destroyed in front of my very eyes. It all made me want to scream, but I couldn’t find my voice. It was trapped somewhere deep inside of me.

              Watching the left wing of the museum crumble, something inside of me snapped, unable to stand to witness the fiery destruction any longer. I quickly got up, looking around for my coat, but it was nowhere to be found. While contemplating going outside in the cold without a jacket, something caught my eye.

              I got close to the TV, seeing a shape in the upper left corner. It was blurry, but it looked like something big, something red. Was it the fire? It was impossible to discern, but as the camera focused on the roof of the museum, now caving in on itself, my eyes locked on to the red object in the corner of the screen.

              It began to move and I followed it closely, wondering what it was. The camera man refocused, and my eyes widened as something resembling a dragon stuck out in my vision. Not letting it go from sight, it seemed to be breathing down a fiery storm onto the already doomed structure. I kept watching as it swooped down low, destroying another part of the museum with its large tail.

              My brain wouldn’t accept these images, forcing me to quickly rub my eyes in disbelief. Dragons couldn’t be real. They were creatures of myth and fantasy. Sleep deprivation must’ve gotten the best of me. Why else would I see dragons floating above the museum? It was ridiculous.

              Sitting in front of the TV, I tried finding the dragon again, but it was gone. It must have been my imagination. Grabbing the remote, I turned up the volume, finally paying attention to the newscaster’s words.

              “The Berkley Museum is on fire. I repeat, the Berkley Museum is on fire. Firefighters are doing everything they can to contain the flames, but it is quickly spreading and becoming uncontrollable. The fire chief says he has never experienced such a fire in his thirty years of service. He is doing everything he can to save our precious museum, but at this point we advise citizens to stay out of the streets since the smoke is quickly building up.”

              Hearing his words made me numb. The fire was becoming uncontrollable. Soon there would be no museum left. The thought made me want to cry as I kept watching the live footage.

              In a rush of anger, I quickly turned off the TV, throwing the remote against the wall, causing the batteries to fly out of their compartment. The desire to go outside had been destroyed, and all I wanted to do now was curl up in bed. With dreary steps I made my way into the bathroom and got ready for bed, letting my body go through its usual motions as my mind kept thinking about what could have caused the sudden fire.

              The museum was inspected and checked thoroughly every year by the fire department. Making my way to bed, the idea of foul play came to mind. Had someone caused the fire?

              Thinking about such a scenario, I crawled under my covers, cuddling into my warm blankets. My eyes anchored to the ceiling as thoughts about the dragon from earlier emerged in my head. Was insanity weaving its subtle net around me? Did no one else see the giant winged lizard soaring high above?

              While falling asleep, my mind reeled back to my favorite piece in the museum: a large fifteen by fifteen foot medieval painting of a dragon hoarding its stash of treasure. The artist was unknown but it was a beautiful piece nevertheless, with stunning crimsons and contours. I remember sitting there for hours at a time, staring up at the dragon’s almost human eyes. Lying in bed, I wondered if my favorite painting was burning in the flames, or if the dragon was still looking over his domain with his beautiful eyes.

Chapter 2: Simon

              Ugh, why was the sun always so damn bright in the morning? Groaning, I rolled over, trying to hide under the covers, but the shining light continued to creep through the window and attack me. Getting out of bed was the last thing on my mind. My head was pounding with an awful headache, and all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day. Was that too much to ask for?

              Soon enough, however, the sun quickly won the battle between us, forcing me to get out of bed in order to close the blinds. The reflection in the mirror was a total mess, provoking a loud grumble on my side. What the hell went on last night?

              Trying to remember caused my mind to go blank. There was nothing unusual about yesterday evening: coming home from work, grabbing a beer with dinner and enjoying it on the couch. It couldn’t have possibly gotten me drunk. Yet, somehow the rest of night was a mystery. The search for clues around my room came up short. Shrugging it off, I went into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

              Brewing a decent cup of coffee was a relatively lengthy process, allowing me enough time to get into the bathroom and prepare for work. With my detective uniform on, I washed my face, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes, but the lack of sleep remained obvious on my face, suggesting an all-nighter on my part. Trying to remember last night only caused the splitting pain of my headache to return.

              A sigh of relief escaped my lungs as I looked at the time and realized there was still an hour left before work, allowing me to actually sit down and have breakfast. After I put some bread in the toaster,I turned on my small TV, with the intention of watching the news. That, however, was interrupted by my phone ringing.

              “Hello?”

              “Detective Oskar?” A delicate female voice came through the line and I rolled my eyes.

              “You know it’s me, Stacy, no need to be so formal. What’s up?”

              “Oh…well, Sargent McQueen wants you to come in as soon as possible, sir.”             

“Okay. I’ll be there in five.” I hung up and grabbed my jacket. The toast popped out of the toaster a few minutes laterand I grabbed it with a quick reflexive catch, nearly burning my fingers.

              Soon enough I was at the police station. Walking in, my boss, Sargent McQueen, looked at me with a grave expression on his face. I knew that face well. This wasn’t good. Something had happened.

              “Detective Oskar.” With a nod in reply, he brought me into his office, closing the door. “Surely you’ve heard about last night’s fire.” I looked at him quizzically, wondering what he meant.

              “Fire?” I asked. He gave me a strange look.

              “The Berkley fire. The museum was burned to the ground. It was all over the news. Didn’t you hear about it?” McQueen looked at me, searching for an answer. This wasn’t good.

              “I went to bed rather early last night, sir,” I said, having no idea whether the statement was a lie or the truth, but in any case, my commander didn’t need to know that.

              “Regardless, you’re getting the case. The fire chief suspects arson, and I want you to figure out who did it. I want whoever did this behind bars.” The Sargent’s tone was quite serious. “But you will not be doing this alone. You will be working with forensics expert Matthew Hughes.” I raised an eyebrow, wondering I was being paired with a complete stranger. Nonetheless, I remained quiet as I was led to our forensic unit in the basement.

              While following him, my mind wandered back to the previous night. A horrible feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach. I had assumed human form about three months ago. Living as a dragon, all alone in some cave with nothing but a gold stash for company, didn’t seem that attractive anymore. Riches no longer interested me. All that mattered now were the little human things that kept me going. Like coffee…coffee was absolutely fantastic!

              Thinking about this, doubt started to creep its way into my mind. Turning into a dragon once more could’ve caused a temporary amnesia. But that would mean the destruction of the Berkley museum was my fault…

              I was quickly pulled out of my trance when my name came up into the conversation. “Detective Oskar.” Looking up quickly, my blue eyes widened in surprise.

              A man, relatively small in stature, but with delicate skin stood before me. He had a V-neck sweater on and he looked fresh out of college. My eyes roamed up and down his body with curiosity. Heat built up in my body, but I tried to ignore it as the young man held out his hand, offering it to me.

              My hand met his, offering a firm shake. The curiosity in my eyes didn’t subside, as a strange emotion grew inside of my chest. It was new and unique. No human had ever made me feel this way. I wondered what was so different about this one as I looked into his sweet, hazel eyes.

              “Matthew. But call me Matt,” he said in a small voice before offering me a warm smile. With a chuckle, my blue eyes crinkled.

              “Simon.”

              Matthew smiled a little wider this time, causing my heartbeat to thud a little faster.

Chapter 3: Matthew

              Setting foot in the police station, it was exciting to find out that the Berkley fire was assigned to me. The desire to find out what arsonist had the audacity to destroy such a historical building was slowly building up inside of me. I got down to work quickly, running all the evidence acquired through microscopes and different forensics equipment, trying to find some clue that would help me solve the case. But it was hard since everything was charred to a crisp. This had been one hell of a fire.

              But on the other hand, being paired up with Detective Oskar was a welcome change. He was really nice to work with, and I really liked him. Truth be told, he was really attractive. He has the sexiest blue eyes that my gaze has ever run into. But, of course, a guy like him probably had a girlfriend or something.

              Sighing, I went back to work with my face pressed against a microscope, trying to inspect what looked like footprints, but it was impossible to distinguish what type of shoe it might have been. The fire destroyed everything in its wake, including any evidence that could have been left behind. But I refused to give up.

              As my work went on, someone walked into the lab. Looking up, I saw Simon. With a bright smile, I jumped off my stool and walked up to him. The tall man looked down at me with a smile before offering me a cup of coffee.

              “Find anything yet?” he asked, his eyes looking at me seriously. He was wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt and as I brought him over to my lab bench his muscles flexed under his skin. Trying not to stare, my eyes examined the countless scars decorating his arms. It made me wonder where he had gotten them. There was so much mystery to my new partner.

              “Nothing big. Just a few things here and there but they are all pretty much useless,” I replied in disappointment. The desire to solve this case and catch the criminal painted a frown on my face. Simon picked up my chin, his eyes warm and compassionate.