The Lightning Dragon's Mate (Hideaway Cove Book 3) Read online

  What is it about this place? Not that she could see it through all this fog. Hideaway Cove. Even the name made it sound like they wanted to be left the hell alone.

  “Sir, if they don’t want to talk to me—”

  She froze. Breath locked in her lungs, hands locked on the wheel, eyes locked on the fog-wreathed road ahead, like she was a rabbit who’d stepped straight into the fox’s jaws. Don’t ask questions! She’d had five years to learn that.

  Maybe if he fires me, I can just stay here… in the fog…

  Mr. Montfort let out a hiss that she scrambled to classify. Annoyed? Amused? Distracted? Her heart hammered in her throat.

  “Sure they will. You’ve got one of those faces. Kind of pathetic. You make people feel good about themselves, and that makes them talk.”

  One of those faces. Felicity stared at herself in the rear-vision mirror.

  Her face was… her face. So familiar it was hard to think about what it was actually like. Hair: black, straight, shoulder-length bob. Skin, not as great as all the products she used on it promised. Her dad’s Asian eyes and permanently surprised-looking eyebrows and her mom’s small square jaw. Nothing special, she’d always thought, but…

  Kind of pathetic.

  She ducked away from the mirror, blinking.

  Beeping noises were coming through the phone. Montfort was jabbing out a message at someone else, not bothering to remember she was still on the line. Well-trained by years as his PA, Felicity didn’t even grimace. The words What sort of asshole doesn’t mute his phone’s keyboard noises? did not so much as appear in her mind.

  She concentrated on the road. The whole ten feet of it she could see in front of her. There were hints of landscape either side of her—she’d glimpsed trees earlier, and according to the GPS on her phone the ocean should be close enough to see if she’d been able to see anything. The whole world narrowed down to the headlights pressing against the fog ahead of her, and the beep beep beep of Montfort texting coming through the car speakers.

  “I know you know better than to waste my time, Lily.” His voice made her jump. She resettled her hands on the wheel, licking suddenly dry lips.

  Waste his time?

  “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

  “Everyone’s replaceable. Remember that.”

  “I’ll remember, sir, I—”

  Something was looming out of the fog ahead. Something large and flat and oblong.

  A sign. When she got close enough to read it, she held back a sigh of relief.

  Hideaway Cove.

  “You know, sir, you always have perfect timing, and this is no different. I’m right on the edge of town.”

  “Finally, some good news.” The slightest pause. “I’m impressed. You didn’t have any trouble finding the place?”

  Other than the fog? “None whatsoever,” she replied promptly. “It’s very—”

  She took in the wall of white outside the car.

  “—picturesque.” That was a good hold-all word. If the town did turn out to be as quaint and adorable as the other old fishing towns along this coast, then she was covered. If it turned out to be a burned-out ghost town, she could claim she was being ironic. Mr. Montfort appreciated irony.

  Sometimes.

  “I hope I don’t need to remind you to keep this little trip to yourself. If Blackburn discovers what I’m planning here…” His voice went tight and vicious, almost a snarl.

  Corin Blackburn was Mr. Montfort’s—Felicity hesitated to use the word ‘nemesis,’ but only because she was worried that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. He was also her best friend Maya’s boss.

  Maya. Her eyes stung. She hadn’t told Maya about this trip. Six months ago, she couldn’t have imagined keeping something like that from her. They both basically survived their jobs by swapping notes on what their bosses were planning and ensuring the two men never crossed paths.

  Then Maya had her baby, and Felicity had done her best to help, but it was like a wall had formed between them. Their visits and messages had dropped from daily to every-other-day, to once a week, to rain checks, to nothing.

  The truth was, there wasn’t anyone else she would have told about this trip. Her parents only cared that she had a good job; they didn’t care what it was or where it took her. Stomach tight, she forced herself to pay attention to the voice hissing through the car.

  “—perfect opportunity. While he’s hiding his face, I’ll prove that Montfort Industries are stronger than ever.”

  And with that, he hung up.

  Suddenly needing fresh air, she rolled down the window. Tendrils of fog curled in, touching her face with cold, damp fingers.

  The air smelled of salt. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. Something about it calmed her, which was strange, because all day the smell of salt whenever she got out of the car had only reminded her that she was out on this wild goose chase and not safely back in the air-conditioned office, where she understood all the plays Mr. Montfort made and how to counter them.

  Now, though…

  She opened her eyes and gasped.

  Lights.

  She blinked. No, she wasn’t imagining them. A cluster of golden lights, soft and fuzzy in the fog, but still definitely there. How had she missed them before?

  The lights were all below her—she must be on the edge of a hill or cliff, looking down on the town. There was too much fog to tell for sure, but she thought she could make out one longer curve of lights, like a main road, with smaller roads coming off it up the hill towards her.

  Like half a sun surrounded by sunrays. She let the fanciful thought sit in her head for a moment, then shook it away. The important thing was that lights meant there was an actual town down there. No more driving blind through the night.

  One week. That was how long she was meant to stay in Hideaway Cove and find out whatever it was Mr. Montfort wanted to know about it.

  She glanced down at the lights again and warmth coasted over her skin. She shivered, from the strangeness rather than any cold. The strange warmth was like sitting in sunlight. Bright and glowing and… welcoming.

  She blinked.

  And something leaped up from the dashboard and bit her.

  “Ow!” Felicity yelped and pulled her hands off the wheel. She stared at them. An electric shock?

  The engine rumbled and she grabbed the wheel again, wincing against the strange, cold bite of static against her palm while her other hand scrambled to turn the engine off. The brake pedal jumped under her foot and the wheel spun itself around as though someone else was hauling on it. Another shock coursed through her, brittle-edged and sharp and cold.

  She lifted her head just as the car began to hurtle towards the edge of the road—and a sheer drop to the town lights below.

  3

  Apollo

  There was no time to think. Only react. Apollo shot from the sky like an arrow, flaring his wings a microsecond before he hit the ground. Fog exploded away with the force of his landing. He reached out with one massive foreclaw and grabbed the back of the car.

  His dragon was almost insensible with gold-lust. As though all the instincts it should have been reacting to for the last decade were hitting it at once. Pure want hissed through his head.

  Treasure. His treasure. Take it! Save it!

  He dragged the car back towards the road. It fought back: the driver must have had the accelerator flat on the floor. What were they thinking?

  The fog was rolling back in, smudging the edges of his wings and dulling the golden fire of his scales. He should have hidden himself in it. Instead, high on finally feeling like he wasn’t broken in some way, he lowered his head to stare at whoever was trying so hard to take a vertical shortcut into town.

  Black eyes in a pale face stared back at him from the rear-view mirror, and lightning crashed through his veins.

  He froze. The woman froze, too, shock cascading across her features. Then the car lurched forward, and her mout
h formed the words, “Help me!”

  The car was still fighting him. But it was fighting her, as well. He pulled magic from the spinning core of his power and sent it into the car to kill the engine.

  Something stopped it.

  Another magic, magic already crackling through the car, already controlling it. Magic that sparked electric-sharp as his own power.

  Apollo’s lightning magic skittered over the car, unable to find purchase. He pushed harder.

  I have to save her! His dragon’s snarl was an echo beneath the urgency in his own mind: Mine!

  The resistance disappeared. His magic broke through. The car was his. Its engine died at once, and one wheel popped as he pulled it securely back onto the road.

  Apollo ran his magic through and through the car’s systems, searching for the strange mirror-magic that had pushed it away, and found nothing.

  The driver’s door swung open.

  The woman he’d seen in the rear-view mirror tumbled out. Apollo backed away, hiding in the thick fog. But his dragon stayed intently focused on the woman, its golden gaze piercing the blanketing white.

  She was of medium height, with shoulder-length straight black hair. Her light sweater and jeans caressed narrow shoulders curving down to generous hips and powerful thighs. Her hair swung as she turned her head this way and that.

  Searching for him.

  Apollo’s heart was thundering in his massive dragon chest. Sparks crackled at the tips of each of his wings and claws and he hunched down, concentrated on keeping them—himself—hidden.

  Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t a shifter.

  He hadn’t heard a single word of telepathic speech as her car dragged her towards the edge. Not even the wordless pulse of emotion that shifters could communicate when they were too young or too frightened to form words.

  She wasn’t a shifter. She was human, she had seen him—

  She had asked for his help.

  Treasure, his dragon breathed. Sparks rippled along his spine.

  Apollo didn’t spare even a glance for the car where, presumably, the treasure was stashed. Frankly, it wasn’t his priority right now. He had to find out who this woman was, find out whether she had seen him in dragon form. He thought their eyes had met in the rear-view mirror. Could he have imagined it? If she somehow hadn’t seen him, he would have to come up with some explanation for the three deep, claw-shaped gouges in the car’s trunk. If she hadn’t—he should shift back, shouldn’t he?

  She was still staring into the fog-filled darkness, desperation staining her face.

  He wanted to comfort her. Tell her she was safe. Without him even thinking about it, his dragon curled its long tail in a protective circle around her, far enough away that she couldn’t see it through the fog but close enough that it—that she—

  Treasure. This time, his dragon’s voice was more like a sigh.

  Forget the treasure. Whatever was in the car wasn’t important. And maybe that made him a bad dragon. Maybe it meant whatever instinct had brought him up here was a fluke, but he didn’t care. This woman was—she was—

  Treasure.

  The word rang like a bell in Apollo’s head. A warning bell come far too late.

  She stepped forward, her dark eyes searching the fog. Her mouth shaped a silent word he couldn’t make out.

  Go back, he urged her silently. He could tell himself the same thing. Change back. Change into his human form, try to prevent the utter disaster he was headed for.

  Instead, he stood like a statue. And when the woman took another step forward, and another, he stayed frozen until it was far too late.

  Their eyes met for the second time.

  She saw him. Her dark eyes widened; her lips parted in surprise. All the color that had been left in her face drained away.

  If Apollo had been human, his face would have gone pale, too.

  Wind swirled around them both, making the fog billow up and hiding him again. He shifted, pulling on his human form so quickly he stumbled as his center of gravity changed. Pants. Where were his pants? He was sure he’d brought them with him. They had been right there, in his claws. He needed to get dressed, and make sure the woman was safe and unhurt, and tell her—tell her—

  His dragon had been wrong.

  This woman wasn’t smuggling treasure into Hideaway Cove.

  She was treasure.

  The most precious treasure he would ever find. His treasure. His mate.

  And he had no hoard worthy of her.

  4

  Felicity

  Every nerve in Felicity’s body was screaming at her.

  She barely registered the scrape of gravel beneath her feet, or the clinging cold of the fog as she breathed it in. Light-headed wasn’t a strong enough word. Her whole body felt strangely buoyant, ghostly, as though it wasn’t really real.

  As though none of this was real.

  She stared up into the wall of fog where, a moment ago, she thought she had seen—

  A dragon.

  Impossible.

  She ran her hands over her face. Her skin was clammy. That was a sign of shock, wasn’t it? The moment this weird light-bodied feeling faded, she would start shivering uncontrollably. Or was she already shivering? God, she’d almost died. Her car had gone crazy and tried to drive her off the side of a cliff, and then something had stopped it, and then—

  And then she had gone crazy.

  “I’m going to count to ten,” she whispered to herself, “and when I get to ten, this is all going to make sense.”

  Eyes closed, she made it all the way to seven before her brain started to fizz with self-doubt.

  Surely I couldn’t have seen—

  No, I definitely didn’t, but if I did—

  Why would my brain make something like that up?

  And the car—that made no sense, either, and if that made no sense, then what if—

  “Ten,” she gasped, and opened her eyes.

  The first thing she saw was a naked man.

  He was tall and athletic, with long blond hair and pale eyes, and that was as much detail as she registered before her brain cut out completely.

  She blinked. He was still there. Still naked.

  A naked man… was not what she thought she had seen.

  “Excuse me,” the naked man said, and backed into the fog.

  She blinked again.

  A polite, naked man was so far outside even the crazy she thought she had seen, that it made what she thought she had seen seem almost believable.

  She took a shaking breath and stepped forward. Fog tugged at her hair, her throat, her lips as she opened her mouth. “Hello?”

  No one replied.

  A yawning emptiness opened inside her. Nothingness pressed in on all sides—that same strange feeling of there being nothing in the fog except more nothing, of being so close to the edge of the world that she had found it still under construction. Her hands started to shake. Once they started, they didn’t stop.

  “It’s all right. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  Someone touched her arm, and the touch was so warm that she leaned into it automatically and found herself staring up into pale golden eyes. It was him. The naked man.

  Her eyes drifted downwards, past a tanned, muscular chest to washboard abs… and jeans. Plain, ordinary, faded blue jeans.

  “You put pants on,” she said, and slammed her hand over her mouth. “Oh god. I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—I mean, I thought—”

  “I suspect it’s best not to think at all in situations like this.” The man’s voice was a light tenor. It wrapped around her like sunlight woven into a blanket. “Although, most people who know me would advise against taking my advice, so…”

  He trailed off. She tore her eyes upwards and found him staring at her. His eyes were strange—a pale yellow-gold that she had only seen in cats’ eyes before, not people’s.

  “Hello,” he said in his sunlight voice. “My name’s Apollo. I would say I d
on’t usually babble like this, but that would be a lie.”

  “Felicity.” Her own voice was shaky. Her brain was still re-treading the last few minutes, trying to find sense in them.

  She groaned and shook her head. Apollo’s eyes sharpened with concern.

  “Are you hurt?” He moved his hand to her elbow, helping her hold herself steady just as she realized she needed it.

  “No, I—the car—”

  “I saw. What happened?”

  “I…” She bit her lower lip. What could she tell him? That it felt like something took control of the car, like it was possessed or something? That it bit her? That she thought a dragon had dropped out of the sky and rescued her? “I don’t know. I must have lost control in the fog.”

  He made an urgent, concerned sound. “You should probably sit down.”

  He turned her around, heading back towards the car. Felicity jerked away. “No—not back there.”

  The rest of her was floaty and shivery, but the memory of the car getting away from her control was like a shard of ice straight through her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself. “And there was—I thought I saw—”

  “What did you see?”

  His voice was just a touch too casual.

  Wait a minute.

  She turned slowly towards Apollo, taking a step back to get a good look at him.

  His skin was tanned to a golden sheen. A deep V cut from the low-slung waistband of his jeans to narrow hips. He was pure athleticism, slender but powerful, washboard abs leading up to cut-glass pecs. But it was his shoulders that undid her. A swimmer’s shoulders, she thought dazedly, broad and strong. A sudden desire to lick his collarbone hit her so hard her head swam. And not just his collarbone. His neck, up to the sensitive skin beneath his ear… his earlobe, almost hidden behind a fall of long, golden-blond hair…

  Her eyes lingered on the strong angle of his jawline, the surprising softness of his lips and the dusting of golden stubble around them.

  Her gaze lingered, because she was putting off a realization that would rock the foundations of everything she thought she knew about the world.