Page 47 of The Black Dragon
The endearment and twinkle in his eye filled her with slight hope. But for this trip, a flying dragon wouldn’t suffice. She shot off a quick text to Vern, letting him know about Justin and the dragon cave. Vern could keep quiet about it. “We’ll take mycar.”
The adobe signat the neighborhood’s entrance read Mystic Shores.Justin watched as Ariel inserted a plastic card into the keypad and punched a number. The iron gates swung open, and she drovethrough.
“I have admittance here now.” She set the keycard down on her car’s console. “And soon I’ll have a job as well. One of the artists is hiring me to do online marketing for him. Social media and allthat.”
Cacti and sagebrush decorated the juniper-lineddrive as they headed for the heart of the community. Justin whistled as elegant two-story houses came into view, each with plenty of space separating itsneighbor.
“Nice digs. Guess art pays well these days. Or do they make a nice side income from growing substances that Skins like to smoke?” He turned. “Is that why they’re socreative?”
Ariel laughed. “Justin, behave. They’re actuallyquite nice and they practice powerful magick. Free-spirited, though they are fussy and controlled about whom they admit into their community. They aren’t crazy about outsiders, but they do welcome Others, evenshifters.”
“Ah yes, the lowly shifters. We can have table manners if we work at it. Not devour our prey whole. I know how to use anapkin.”
“And you make a great lighter fora bonfire,” she teasedback.
He’d see what this place had to offer, what kind of Mages lived here, but most Others feared him too much to be truly friendly. Over breakfast, he hadn’t wanted to express interest in Ariel living with him. He couldn’t offer her a future, a comfortable lifestyle shewanted.
His life was filled with too much uncertainty. What if he did something to hurther, the way he’d killed hisparents?
But damn that tiny flickering candle of hope that promised maybe they could stay together. Hope was great when you had nothing else to clingto.
Hope sucked when someone crushed it like abug.
“This place, it’s safe for you?” He didn’t want her venturing into a community where she wasn’twelcomed.
“Safe? I suppose. Magick doesn’tprotect you from all the bad things that happen in theworld.”
“Like car accidents.” How well he knewthat.
“When my mom died, it was a long time before I could let go. My father said I didn’t talk for months afterward. I don’t think it was only the car accident. It was something else. Something to do withdragons.”
Dragons. His chest felt tight. “A dragon caused the accident?Did Leo everelaborate?”
“No. A few years later, when I was adult enough to research it, I tried to find any witnesses. The official police report said the car ran into a tree. No reasonwhy.”
“What do youremember?”
Ariel’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she made a right turn. “All my memories of the accident are gone. I guess it was the shock and trauma of it.I looked through my mother’s papers to see if there was a reason why she would drive into a tree. I foundnothing.”
Ariel pulled into a long, curved driveway before an elegant two-story house with sparkling windows, a rock garden with succulents peppering the beds, and double glass doors. One wall was a mural featuring birds in flight. As she parked the truck, a thin, elderly man with irongray hair down to his shoulders came outside. He had rheumy blue eyes. Kindness shone in them. The man wiped his paint-stained hands on a cloth. Ariel smiled at theman.
“Justin, this is Vern, the artist I told you about. Vern, meet Justin. He’s adragon.”
Justin shook hands with the Mage. Vern gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Please comeinside.”
After a tour of Vern’simpressive studio, they sat in the living room with tall glasses of iced tea. Vern entertained them with stories of his days when he was an artist inCalifornia.
“Moved here three decades ago when the community changed. All thanks to the black dragon.” Vern sighed. “No one wanted to live here before that. Place was dying off, but the dragon changed everything. Made itmagick.”
Dragonswere appreciated here. Justin downed his tea. “Which black dragon wasthis?”
Vern avoided his gaze. “Oh, I don’t remember rightly. A powerful one with a goodheart.”
He gave an appreciative glance around Vern’s living room and the oil paintings of children playing, and fairies flying through woods. Hanging over the fireplace hearth was a painting of a dragon in flight. Justin immediatelyrecognizedit.
“Nice dragon,” he told theartist.
“I painted a duplicate for a dragon named Alexander,” Vern explained. “It was his ancestor, Drust. He was supposed to be a powerfulone.”
