Magical Murder by Ann Denton

Author:Ann Denton [Denton, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998543765
Publisher: Le Rue Publishing
Published: 2018-10-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Being swept away to Bennett's place is not at all like the romantic getaway I first pictured when he said he wanted me to stay with him. First of all, flying in a dragon’s claws is an experience I do not recommend. Even though he’s cradling me like a baby, his claws are sharp. Super ouch.

Second, I realize Bennett's not taking me to his stone cottage near the caves. He's bringing me somewhere I've never been before.

Apparently, Bennett now lives in a brownstone town home better suited for the East Coast than the California sunshine. It's part of Fire Row, an old housing development for dragons. A lot of the more ancient dragons and the New Age dragons prefer the caves back in the hills. Most dragon clans, including Ben’s, talk up the 'traditional life.'

It's only the more type-A businessy dragons like Bennett that live here. Hence the unkempt lawns. I mean, really, who works and has still has time to mow? I get it. But the overgrown shrubs make the block look haunted, not welcoming, in the pre-dawn light.

“Well this is … scenic.” I comment sarcastically. I turn and look up at him. “I didn’t think you’d ever leave that cottage. I thought you liked it there.” It had never been my favorite, all his family members just dropping by without an invite, but Bennett had loved being surrounded by them. I’m surprised by the move. Makes me wonder what his new place is like.

Bennett lands on the roof, shifts, and brings me down a set of stairs. His door opens after he speaks a password in Drakon, the dragon language.

He helps, a.k.a. shoves, me inside in front of him. Apparently, I don't walk fast enough for him. Can a girl help it if a naked guy with a six pack is a distraction? I swear I didn’t look on purpose. (Not like it's anything I haven't seen before anyway.) But I'm trying to maintain some kind of professionalism here. Unlike Mr. Shovey-hands.

I roll my eyes once we’re in his living/kitchen area, pull out a kitchen chair, and stare pointedly at the wall as he walks to his room to change.

I hear a bleating and turn to see a lamb tied to a ring in the corner of the kitchen. Floor to ceiling around the lamb is stone, scorched black. I’d better not be here through dinner. That’s all I know.

I pat Lambie on the head and decide to wander to the couch instead of further befriending Bennett’s future meal.

The living room is a typical bachelor pad. Functional. Utilitarian. Black furniture. Beige walls and carpet. Boring.

The move didn’t lead to a major revelation on the decoration front. I wonder if Bennett’s having issues with his mom. He was always a momma’s boy. But … not my place. I’m here for work and safety reasons only.

I call out to Bennett, "So what’s our next move?"

He comes back in khakis and a T-shirt. "Sorry slugger," he ruffles my hair like he’s some annoying big brother.

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