I breathed in deeply. “But we dragons aren’t killers as legends say? We don’t hoard gold?”
“Nope. If humans knew of us, they’d declare war.” Brody kissed my neck. “With today’s technology, they could wipe us out. But we’ve always, down through history, wanted to live alongside humans without conflict. We prefer peace, aren’t driven by greed as humans are. We’re powerful, so we don’t crave power. We’re family oriented, only want kids, a decent life.”
I pondered what he’d said. Did I want power? Not really. Sure, I could take it, force humans to do what I wanted them to do. Frighten them into subservience. That notion didn’t interest me, however. Kids, family, well, that notion did appeal to my soul. A strong mate, the love of my life, my babies with him.I wanted kids with my husband. He didn’t want any, forbade me to get pregnant.
“Kids,” I breathed. “I’d always wanted them.”
Brody’s arm tightened around my waist. “Me, too.”
“Are we fated to be together, Brody?”
“I believe it.”
“Maybe I do, too.”
The sound of my front door opening had me lunging from his arms, the couch, reaching for the gun stashed away in the coffee table’s drawer. Spinning, I aimed at the figure who stepped into my sights, ready and willing to pull the trigger.
Chapter Sixteen
Brody
Detective Skinner raised his hands in anI surrendergesture, shock creasing his face. “Don’t shoot! I’m here to talk to you.”
Lindsey lowered the gun with a whoosh of exhaled breath. “What’s the matter with you, man? Don’t you knock?”
“I did,” Skinner replied, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “There wasn’t an answer, and I worried something was wrong. Shit, girl, you scared the bejesus outta me.”
“You don’t just walk into houses, man,” I complained. “No probable cause.”
His brow rose. “And worrying Rivers might have blown your heads off isn’t probable cause? Christ, I think I shit my britches.”
“I’d invite you to sit,” Lindsey said, her tone ironic, “except I don’t need you messing up my furniture.”
Skinner crossed the room and sat. “I don’t suppose I might be offered a cup of coffee?”
“Just make yourself at home,” Lindsey snapped, then dropped the gun back in the table’s drawer.
She stalked into the kitchen, grumbling under her breath while Skinner and I frowned at one another.
“You didn’t come by for coffee,” I remarked, sitting up and resting my foot on the coffee table. “What’s up?”
“Your pal,” he said. “We found a known associate of his. The dude is dead. For at least a few days.”
“Okay. A drug deal gone sour?”
Skinner shook his head. “We don’t think so. His head was bashed in, but why was he so far out of the city? And at a location where the house had fallen apart?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“I was hoping you might offer a little insight there.” He glanced past me toward Lindsey, who stood at the kitchen’s entrance. “Tell me what you’re not telling me.”
Half-turning, I met Lindsey’s gaze. She nodded, a subtle dip of her chin.
“Look, Lindsey shouldn’t get into trouble for saving my life,” I said, turning back. “Austin and a pal, Greg, came to my house after the fires. Cut me with a switchblade. Lindsey stepped in with her gun, got them to back off.”
Skinner breathed in deeply. “You didn’t shoot them, Lindsey?”
“Fired a round into the floor. I would have if I had to.”
