The Witch & the Dragon: A Shifter Protector Romance, page 1
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Contents
Prologue – Tiran
Chapter One – Chloe
Chapter Two – Tiran
Chapter Three – Chloe
Chapter Four – Tiran
Chapter Five – Chloe
Chapter Six – Tiran
Chapter Seven - Chloe
Chapter Eight – Tiran
The Witch and the Dragon
(A Shifter Protector Romance)
Dreadmor Dark Academy
Book 2
By: Lisa Daniels
Prologue – Tiran
Tiran Umber never liked his uncle. Well, the first one, Uncle Max Umber, was okay. He was a professor at the academy Tiran was attending. The second uncle, Randal Umber, however, and all the relatives who shuffled in behind him, his personal lackeys, were no better. Now, Randall sneered faintly as he faced him.
“How are your parents these days, Tiran?” Randall asked. He lifted a glass of wine, and the chatter around several of the tables quieted as people leaned in to listen to what Tiran said. Whenever it came to these high-end gatherings, people hoped for a scene or some sort of scandal.
Max Umber took hold of his own wine goblet.
“Why do you even bother talking to him, Randall? You only try to rile him up.”
“None of your business,” Randall told Max as he continued to keep his eyes on Tiran. “I heard they’re going away on a trip in a few days. Business is booming, as they say. Are you going with them?”
“Depends,” Tiran said. “Are you?” In his head, he remembered the last time he saw his parents interact with Randall. His father ended up cautioning Tiran, telling him to stay calm and not let the man goad him because he was just looking for an excuse to cause conflict, all under the thin veneer of respect and politeness that these little circles demanded, a sense of decorum while everyone secretly wished for more drama.
Tiran’s father said Randall was trouble but that they were working on a way to cleanly excise him from the family once and for all.
However, that appeared difficult to do since Randall and his father had been business partners for years until Randall started to run the business into the ground.
Randall sneered. “It seems your father is less and less willing to do business with me these days. Can’t think why.”
“Maybe,” Tiran said, feeling his irritation rise to the surface, “it might have something to do with your embezzlement of funds from the business.”
“I did no such thing,” Randall said, sneering. “I put the funds to good use.”
“Paying insanely high prices for products that could be bought for a lot less? I call that misuse of funds.”
“Quality products,” Randall replied coolly. “I’ve said it over and over. It’s not my fault that everyone assumes the worst of me.” He sipped his wine, avoiding Max’s eyes. “You were one of the biggest accusers, as I recall.”
Max glared at him. “I’m sure you’re an upstanding member of society. I look forward to interacting with you again…later.” He gripped Tiran’s shoulder and gently steered him away from Randall, who made no move to continue the conversation.
“You need to be wary of him, Tiran,” Max warned his nephew. “He sees you as weak and vulnerable.”
Tiran hissed. “I hate him. Dad said he was embezzling funds and causing people to quit; he’s been turning members of the family against us and trying to make out that he’s the good guy in all this when he’s clearly not.”
“He’s a slimy dragon, that’s for sure.” Max steered him into a corner. “Just be careful with that one. As I’m sure your father said, try to minimize your interactions with him. He has the sympathy of many, and your father’s side of the chessboard is still a little light, so keep your head down and focus on your studies. If you wish to take over the business someday, that’s up to you – but if you do, you should be more prepared than you are right now. Stay calm. That’s all we can ask for in the end.”
Tiran nodded, but still, a sinking, dark sensation swam through him at the thought of his parents being tied to such a person as Randall for any longer. A part of him didn’t see why they couldn’t just take flight, start anew, and build things up again in a place where they had everything to gain.
It would be better than watching his uncle Randall make the rounds, speaking to people, smiling in an almost serpentine way, with no warmth behind those eyes.
At least he’d be heading back to Dreadmor Academy tomorrow. Away from all these family politics, drama, and shifting alliances and whoever provided the most expensive wine at the gathering.
Maybe he’d be the first one to take flight from everyone in the end.
Chapter One – Chloe
A pale stretch of pondweed covered most of the water. Chloe, along with the other students, inched closer under the watchful eye of their professor.
“Steady now, students,” Professor Umber said. “Don’t disturb the plants too much. That’s it…” He held up his hand just as something churned in the murky green depths. “There, we have movement. Minimal talking, please.”
Chloe gulped and grabbed the arm of Harrow, who simply observed the whole thing with a detached air. “Does nothing scare you, Harrow?” Chloe hissed quietly, not wanting to draw the professor’s ire.
“Why should it? Clearly, the teacher is not going to do something that will get his students killed.” Harrow’s cool expression and demeanor didn’t transfer to the other students.
“I… appreciate the sentiment, Miss Harrow,” Professor Umber replied tartly. “Now, please be quiet. I won’t tell you again.”
Eight students hovered at the pond’s edge, part of a mandatory trip to become acquainted with Dreadmor Academy’s supernatural wildlife. Since the trip was required, Dreadmor couldn’t be held liable if any students were to foolishly get themselves killed by said wildlife. People might be a little upset otherwise.
Out of curiosity, Chloe checked her cellphone for “Dreadmor casualty rates” and found the number to be a lot lower than she’d expected. At least… in the last thirty years.
Harrow leaned over and looked at her phone, one eyebrow crooked. “Huh, I expected the number to be higher. My mom’s been saying that maybe I should have picked Lostwithiel or Tahun instead – very safe schools by comparison.”
Archon Academy only accepted those with werewolf lineage, whether the person could transform fully or happened to have some great-grandmother who had inherited the bloodline from her second cousin.
Professor Umber glared at her, his blue eyes now murderous, and Harrow trailed off into silence. The pond waters stirred, and what looked like a trailing, writhing mass broke the surface. The students let out a collective gasp. Several staggered back as the pondweed slid off a distorted, twisted humanoid form with pale green eyes, a sunken, emaciated face, long, curling fingers, and a naked body, but without any discerning parts to denote it as male or female. The creature’s oddly pale eyes darted from student to student, and the spidery fingers twitched.
“This,” Professor Umber said, “is a Jenny Greenteeth. Also known as a Wicked Jenny or Ginny Greenteeth. She’s a river hag. Folklore will tell you she’s a wicked, evil thing that’ll drown anyone you care about, such as a child playing nearby or an old woman or man minding their own business. Anyone can be ensnared by those wicked fingers and drowned.”
The more Professor Umber described the river hag, the more ill Chloe felt. Her own powers now started tingling – not the oracle part – that was never reliable – but the strange gut instinct sensation that gave her a personal premonition of danger. Sometimes. This… thing was dangerous indeed. As if sensing Chloe’s own trepidation, the river hag now slid those cold eyes toward her.
The professor continued. “Jenny Greenteeths are highly territorial. They don’t like noise. If you are quiet, and if you bring them an offering that they like, they will be content to leave you alone and not drown you. Remember this in case you ever find yourself in the waters.”
Professor Umber took out something from his pocket, something that glittered, a type of quartz that caught the light and reflected it into beautiful fractal patterns.
At this, Jenny Greenteeth grinned, showing jagged teeth, and extended one long arm and palm toward Professor Umber. He deposited the quartz in her palm, and her fingers curled over it. “Thanks again for allowing this,” the professor said.
Jenny Greenteeth cackled. “As long as you bring me such pretties and teach them respect, you are always welcome.”
Chloe gasped at the rasping words. She hadn’t expected the hag to speak.
“You,” Greenteeth said, pointing at Chloe. “Interesting magic you have. If you ever find yourself deep in the swamp, you should visit the dryad.” A tongue flicked out as if tasting the air. “Yes… she will be most happy for your company.”
She said nothing else about the dryad, though Professor Umber glanced at Chloe, a mild knot of concern on his face.
Jenny G reenteeth allowed the students to study her a bit longer and even answered some of their questions before she appeared to lose patience and bubble back into the waters.
“Easy now, back away,” Professor Umber said, gesturing for the students to retreat back to the path. “This river hag is one we use to help educate students. She’s willing enough, but the moment her patience runs out, it is best for us to… skedaddle. She has quite the collection of rocks now – and I would hate for us to give that collection to any of the other hags.”
“She didn’t seem that dangerous,” one of the students said. “Kind of dumb if all it takes is some rock to be safe.”
“She’s dangerous,” Chloe said, shivering. “I could feel it.”
“About that,” Harrow said, “she totally called you out, saying you have ‘interesting’ magic. Like, hello, your magic’s practically the same as mine. Why not call me out? It’s not like I saved the world or anything.”
Chloe grinned. Harrow was referring to their stint at the summer camp – something neither of them was supposed to talk about. Professor Umber knew this as well, and he stepped forward to rest a hand on Harrow’s shoulder.
“You’re quite talkative about things today, aren’t you? Perhaps you’d care to talk more during detention in my classroom after school.”
Harrow groaned. “Come on, I wasn’t being obvious…”
“You were risking people by talking when I specifically asked you to be quiet. You are lucky that nothing untoward happened.”
Once the professor stepped away, Chloe said, “Fourth detention for you. Are you aiming for some sort of school record?”
Harrow scowled. “Yeah, you get a trophy for them. At least the professor is hot.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend…?”
“I can’t notice other people are hot?”
Chloe nudged Harrow hard since Professor Umber’s chest puffed, and he looked on the verge of breathing fire at them. She didn’t know if dragon shifters could breathe fire, but it was probably best not to test the professor’s limits.
Out of a sense of duty to her friend, Chloe accompanied Harrow all the way to Umber’s office, stopping outside. Harrow knocked after muttering something about dictator teachers, but the person who opened the door wasn’t Professor Umber.
A man stepped out with a face like a thundercloud. His amber eyes seemed oddly distant, staring into the distance before shoving past them without a backward glance.
“Come in,” Professor Umber said, “and don’t mind the boy there. He… he’s had some tough news.”
The “boy” in question slouched away, shoulders slumped.
What was going on? Chloe’s intuition tickled. She waved Harrow goodbye and followed the male student at a careful distance. Her magic tingled within, a sign that whatever she was doing – was good. The student walked ahead, eyes cast down, never looking back. When he turned a corner, she followed, letting her intuition tug her forward.
He went up a grand, curling set of stairs. She quietly climbed the stairs after him, and they went two floors up. He paced ahead fast, his footfalls echoing loudly in the corridor as he headed toward the balcony.
Chloe’s intuition tingled more urgently, and a jolt of adrenaline and dread hit her. She didn’t understand why she was feeling what she was feeling – but from her limited experience with her magic, she knew never to ignore the signals.
Still following silently, she picked up her pace as the male student broke into a jog. He skidded to a halt on the balcony and leaned over the marbled barrier.
Is he…?
Dread flooded her stomach, causing a wave of nausea. But for a fraction of a second, she felt something else: wind, despair, and the impetus of a rash decision.
No longer bothering to be quiet, she broke into a sprint.
Chapter Two – Tiran
What’s the point? Tiran thought. His hands gripped the barrier. What’s the damn point?
The ground seemed to shrink away from him, growing smaller and smaller, and a strange, dizzying tremor caused him to lean over more. He could visualize taking a step, climbing over the barrier, his legs dangling into nothing, the ground so far below.
They’d like that, wouldn’t they? All those parasites. Just as they crawled over the corpses of his family, they’d crawl over his.
The despair felt alien and all-consuming. After that phone call, after getting the news – it was all too much.
What’s the point?
It would all be easier if he just…
Then he heard loud footsteps approaching from behind.
“Hey! Wait! Guy on the balcony!”
Startled, he turned to see a panicked woman rushing up to him, waving her hands. “Guy on the balcony! Step away! It’s not worth it!”
What…?
“Who the hell…” Oh. One of the women he’d seen outside his uncle’s office. He’d barely noticed them. Why was she here, and why was she yelling?
“Dude!” She skidded to a halt, cheeks puffed, breathing heavily. “God, I’m so unfit. You’d never believe I used to run track in high school.” She rested her hands on her knees, hair a floppy mess in front.
“Who are you?” Tiran asked. He was too surprised, too puzzled to say anything else.
“Chloe Gardner,” she said, pushing the hair out of her eyes. “Who’re you?”
“Uh…Tiran. Tiran Umber.”
“Oh! You’re related to the professor?”
The thought of his uncle made him flush. “Yes. He’s my uncle.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Whoa. Do you hate him?”
“No.” He didn’t exactly like him either. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”
“I…” She grimaced. “I thought you were going to kill yourself.”
“What?” he asked. “Why would you think that?”
“I, uh… my magic,” she said sheepishly. “It’s intuition-based. I sensed you were about to make a really rash decision. And I… well, I didn’t want that to happen.”
A cold chill swept through him. “I wasn’t about to do anything. Go away. I want to be alone.” He walked past her, the coldness spreading, icing his thoughts.
Holy crap.
How did she…?
“Uh, wait a minute,” she said, determined not to leave him alone but rather spring into step beside him. “My intuition’s telling me you shouldn’t be left alone right now.”
“You…?” He stopped. He wanted to snap at her, tell her to screw off, go away, leave him alone, to spit words like arrows in her general direction. He almost did, too – but something in her expression – the way her brow furrowed in genuine concern – and the redness of her face from the sprint – stopped him from saying anything.
He swallowed. “You’re not kidding me? You can really sense that with your magic?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I know I must be interfering – no, wait – I should be interfering. You were going to throw yourself off that balcony.”
“I…”
“No,” she said, “don’t lie.”
Ugh.
How annoying. She refused to let it go. Even with her apologetic expression, her body language suggested she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
“Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands. “So, what if I was? Why should it matter to you?”
“Well, it doesn’t,” she admitted candidly, and again, he fumbled mentally, thrown off-kilter by her attitude. “But clearly, something’s going on with you, and I’m not comfortable ignoring what my magic’s telling me. So, assuming you have time – let’s go someplace safe. We’ll grab a drink or some food, and you can let me know what’s going on.”
Ugh!
He glared at her. What really irritated him right now was that a part of him wanted to talk to someone, to allow the power of a stranger to lead him out of his head and to explain the shit-uation.
And she knew, didn’t she? How irritating. How smug. Yet, for someone who said it didn’t matter – the way she looked at him suggested something else. Not pity, exactly, something unfathomable, but something that made him want to stay rather than turn back toward the balcony.
“What the hell kind of weird ass powers do you have? Intuition? How does that even work?”
