Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The doorbell alert had me cursing. Not again.
Bloody thing rang more often than I liked.
I’d thought of removing it, but it did prove useful when deliveries arrived.
Unfortunately, though, tourists couldn’t read signs.
No trespassing. Property under renovation.
Perhaps I should have one made that said Fuck off.
Since I knew from experience that if I didn’t reply, people sometimes took it as an invitation to trespass, I always responded, this time telling the woman at my door to go away.
Twice, since she proved stubbornly insistent.
As if I cared to know her reason for wanting inside.
I’d actually happened to read the emails Professor Davina Campbell sent, rambling on about how she’d been researching for her book on lost treasures.
She had a theory that one of them, the famous Loch Arkaig treasure, also known as the Jacobite Gold, ended up in my castle.
It hadn’t, or I would have sniffed it out.
Gold exuded the most enticing scent. It should be noted that even if the lost treasure had been present, I still wouldn’t have let her in because the discovery of something momentous inside the castle would lead to nosy officials, countless paperwork, the involvement of lawyers as they tried to rescind my deal, and, most egregious of all, an intrusion on my private life.
So, no, I wouldn’t allow her entry, and she ended up wandering up the path to the mausoleum, despite my warning of the approaching storm. I’d done my due diligence. If she got caught in the deluge or stuck on the island, her problem, not mine.
Not trusting her—or anybody for that matter—I stood at an open window and spied as she headed along the beaten track, watching to make sure she didn’t have a plan to try and sneak in. It had happened before. Tourists had no respect for historical monuments or private property.
I returned to work, AKA the sanding of the woodwork on the main floor, in an attempt to restore its original beauty.
I spent a good hour going at it before heading outside for a break and a breath of fresh air.
Air that turned out tainted with the hint of something rancid—rot, blood, death. A smell I knew.
Fucking Red Cap.
A quick jog around the castle didn’t reveal the creature, only the faintest hint of the lingering stench.
Where did you go?
Red Caps didn’t usually hunt during the day, and the fact that this one did demanded investigating.
Last thing I needed was for a tourist to be murdered on the isle.
Since I couldn’t cover much ground on foot, I opted for an aerial search.
I started with a sweep over the castle grounds first, seeking signs of movement or anything out of place.
Nothing. Despite the daily ferry disgorging its annoying load of tourists, the woman had been the only one to come wandering by.
Speaking of whom, she’d yet to turn back, despite the gathering dark clouds. Idiot. No way would she make it to the dock before the storm hit. While I personally didn’t care if she got soaked, I didn’t want or need her getting injured or lost on my property. People nowadays were so quick to sue.
Veering toward the mausoleum, hiding my presence in the clouds, I soon caught up.
She didn’t notice me shadowing her. Why would she?
She never once looked up, and even if she did, she wouldn’t see a thing.
I’d mastered the art of camouflage, very important in these modern times with their advanced spying abilities.
To my surprise, despite the professor’s arrival at the ancient temple structure, she chose to head for the cliff.
Don’t tell me she planned to jump because I’d made her despondent with my refusal.
Humans could be so emotional when you used the word no, especially the current generation.
Too much sparing of the rod, if you asked me.
As I waited to see what she’d do, movement caught my eye. A figure, with a disjointed lope, headed for the woman. The Red Cap; the source of the putrid smell.
Pretty brazen for it to trespass on my property given how I’d cleared them all out when I first moved in.
But more mind boggling than the fact that I somehow missed one?
The woman saw it coming but didn’t run. At times I wondered how humanity managed to thrive, given how so many lacked a sense of self-preservation.
Guess her book wouldn’t get written, after all, because I didn’t plan to get involved.
A stranger wasn’t worth the hassle of exposure.
At the same time, though, I’d never been the type who could stand aside while the innocent were attacked. A dead tourist, especially a professor from a prestigious university, would draw attention. Journalists, the morbidly curious, authorities, all of which would ruin my peace.
Not to mention, I hated Red Caps.
It grabbed the woman, and finally she acted, the kick of her foot causing it to buckle and release her.
Run. Run fast and hard and don’t look back.
She might have done so if she’d not stumbled. Her arms windmilled, but she couldn’t regain her balance and fell off the edge of the cliff.
Without a thought, I dove.
I plunged down, the powerful stroke of my wings moving me faster than any living bird, or drone, for that matter. I swooped under the plummeting female, back drafting my wings to keep me in place so she landed on my back.
As expected, she slid over my smooth scales, but her slowed descent made it easy for me to scoop her with a clawed paw. Gently, I should add. No point in saving her from smashing into pulp, only to crush or pierce her by accident. During this, she made not a sound. Not a single peep.
Odd. Most humans would be in hysterics by now. Maybe she’d lost consciousness.
I winged upward, rising to the edge of the cliff to see the Red Cap gone, disappeared back to whatever smelly den it crawled out of, a lair I would find because it needed to be handled.
Apparently, this remaining Red Cap needed a lesson and a reminder about what happened if you fucked with a dragon.
But that would have to wait until after I dealt with the woman.
I flew back to my castle and landed at the rear, out of sight of anyone who might happen to pass by.
Her wide-eyed expression met my firm gaze, and I pushed a thought at her.
“You will forget what has just happened. As far as you recall, the owner of the castle refused you entry. You tried hiking to the mausoleum but never reached it, as you decided it best you return to the ferry before the storm hit.”
Rather than start walking in the direction of the dock as I’d commanded, her head tilted and she pursed her lips, all the while staring intently at me. No hint of fear in her gaze, or obedience, for that matter. Had she not heard me?
I tried again. “Leave and forget—"
“You’re a dragon.”
“Gee, you don’t say.” A thought I projected along with rolled eyes.
She frowned. “Is that you talking in my head?”
I sighed and spoke aloud, “So you can hear me?” I’d begun to wonder since she didn’t immediately comply.
“Quite clearly. You want me to leave.”
“Yes.”
“And forget you exist.”
“Also yes.”
“What of the Red Cap?”
“If you want to remember it, by all means, go ahead. It’s your nightmare.”
Her lips pursed. “Red Caps and dragons aren’t real.”
“No, they aren’t,” I agreed. “Now run along before you miss the ferry.” The sky had darkened, and the rain smelled imminent.
“Your voice…” she mused aloud. “It sounds familiar.”
Uh-oh.
“You’ve spoken with many dragons?” I mocked with a harsh note to mask my usual tone.
“Don’t be silly. You’re my first.” She paused before adding. “You’re Alistair Graham, the owner of the castle.”
Bloody hell. I should have let her fall.