Defender Dragon (Protection, Inc 2)

“Yes, of course,” Journey replied. “I did report him to the police. But no one knew his real name.”

“I don’t need to know his real name.” Lucas worked on the computer for several hours. Journey watched over his shoulder as he searched a series of police databases, occasionally asking her for more information or showing her photos. Every time, she had to regretfully shake her head.

Apologetically, Lucas said, “I’m not very skilled with computers. I didn’t use them at all until I was eighteen. I’ll give it another hour. If I can’t find him by then, I’ll ask one of the others for help. Not Hal. He didn’t grow up with computers either.”

Half an hour later, Journey spotted her ex. “That’s him!”

“Ah-ha.” Lucas pulled up another screen of information. “He’s moved on to Montana. And he hasn’t gotten away with everything; he’s in jail for credit card fraud. Let’s make certain he stays there.”

Journey watched him write a brief report tying her ex-boyfriend to multiple reports of theft in different states under different names, then email it to an FBI agent with a note that at least one of his victims would be willing to testify against him.

Lucas shut down the computer and stood up. “There. That should keep him in prison for at least the next ten years.”

Amazed, Journey exclaimed, “How did you do that? The police told me it would be impossible to track him down!”

“The Lummox police?”

“Yeah.” Realizing what he meant, she added, “Of course they didn’t find him. They don’t know how to catch anything but stray cows. I should have called the FBI— they’d have nabbed him years ago. I was so naïve!”

Lucas put his hand on her shoulder. “Nobody else thought of contacting the FBI, either. He seems to target women in small towns for exactly that reason— they report him to their local police stations, and the report never goes any farther. But he won’t get away this time.”

She thought of Duke Constantine, who had manipulated Lucas and Raluca for years. They were finally free, and he was locked away in a dungeon. “Better late than never.”

As they left the office room, she added, “Nice job with the computer. I don’t know what you mean, saying you’re not good with them.”

“Fiona taught me to use the system here. But I studied hard.”

“It paid off. Competence is very sexy.”

Lucas looked pleased as a cat with a saucer of cream. “Would you like to see the rest of what we do?”

“Absolutely!”

He showed her more offices, a private gym, and a room full of weapons and protective gear. Journey stared at the array of guns. It sank in for the first time that Lucas’s job was putting himself in harm’s way.

As if he had read her thought, he said, “I have never been wounded while working here. I promise you, I am much better at being a bodyguard than I am at using a computer.”

“I believe you. Besides, there’s the mate bond. If you ever do get in the sort of trouble where you need me, that voice will start yelling in my ear and I’ll come running.”

She expected Lucas to protest that he didn’t need protection and if he did get in trouble, she wouldn’t be able to help him anyway. Instead, he simply said, “Good. But in that case, you should take Shane up on his offer to teach you self-defense.”

Journey hesitated, recalling that chilling sense of danger. “Was he serious about that? I don’t know...”

“He was serious. If you’re not comfortable with him, any one of us could teach you. But Shane doesn’t often make such offers, and you could not learn from anyone better.” After a moment, Lucas added, “He taught me as well. He doesn’t teach like Grand Duke Vaclav, or I would not suggest it.”

“Oh.” Journey thought about it. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

It’s a whole new world, she thought. Martial arts lessons from a terrifying panther shifter bodyguard. Meeting Lucas’s friends. Living with Lucas. Being in love. She didn’t have to move around constantly to find new areas to explore and new things to learn.

He drove her back to his apartment in the sleek sports car that Destiny had left parked in the Protection, Inc. garage. She had expected his apartment to resemble his room in the palace, lavishly decorated with antique furniture, marble, and gold. Instead, it was spare and modern, even austere.

“Do you like this style or did you just not intend to stay for very long?” Journey asked.

“Both,” Lucas replied. “I may acquire a few more possessions now that I’m not expecting to be dragged away at any moment.”

“You should put up some pictures.”

“Perhaps you could help me select some,” Lucas suggested. “It’s your home too, now.”