“Are you going on a mission?” she asks.
“No, it's a local gig. Security for some company. Why?”
She nibbles her bottom lip. “I'm worried about Tabitha. She hasn't answered her phone. It’s not unusual, but I thought she’d call on Christmas, and we still haven’t heard from her.”
“She was traveling alone, right?” I could kick myself. We should have put a tracker on her car.
“She’s a free spirit. She does sometimes go off the grid for periods, but I just have a funny feeling about it this time.”
Adele's fear hits my senses with an icy blast. “Okay, beautiful. I'll get the guys looking for her stat.” I pull out my phone and tap a message to Channing right away. As I text, I tell Adele, “We’ll see if we can ping her phone and location first. Once we find her, we’ll drop a visit to make sure she’s okay.”
Message sent, I tuck my phone back into my pocket. “We'll find her,” I promise, soothing a hand down her back until her fear dissipates in a cloud of lavender.
“Thank you.” She leans in and waggles her brows. “Now show me what exactly you want for lunch. Whatever you're craving, I’m sure I can oblige.”
Tabitha
I'm in a dark echoing space filled with a warm and smoky scent.
My foot skids on something like gravel. Smooth and clinking. I reach out to steady myself and touch a wall of heated stone.
There's a glow up ahead. I inch along the wall, sliding my hand over the heated wall tiles. I’m in a cloud of a smoky scent, spiced like incense. I’m wearing the blouse and skirt that no longer exists outside this dream–the outfit Gabriel cut off.
My footing slips on the piles of stones. The gravel underfoot is round and clinking like…coins. With one hand still against the wall, I reach down and touch the coins. I sift a few between my fingers, sniffing their metallic scent. My next handful contains a few smooth baubles, smooth like polished stones. Precious gems?
The wall...moves. The glow floods the space, illuminating the gold and jewels glittering at my feet.
I'm face to face with a scaled head. Dark eyes as big as my head glitter like cut diamonds. Smoke curls from the creature’s nostrils. The gray plumes eddy around me.
I would fall, but the scaled body of the dragon is coiled behind me, propping me up.
But I'm not scared. This is, after all, a dream.
“What is this place?” I don’t speak aloud because in a dream there is no speaking out loud. Communication is silent, my words leaving my head as soon as I think them.
Mine. Treasure. The dragon speaks mind to mind. I understand perfectly.
I stoop and collect another gold coin. This one is huge and heavy, ancient.
Yours, the dragon tells me. Mate.
Of course. It all makes sense. I’m comfortable and satisfied, resting with the dragon in its dark lair.
The smoky, spicy scent is intenser now. It's like the concentrated scent that emanates from Gabriel's skin. It's not cologne like I first thought it was. But if we could bottle it, we’d make a fortune. Pure, liquid desire.
The dragon lifts its head, turns it, and blows fire. Flames light the room, and when the dragon lowers its head again, a huge hanging lamp overhead remains lit. Shadows dance across the dragon and the cavernous space. Mountains of coins are piled around us, some several stories high. Each mound is studded with multicolored jewels. Emeralds and rubies blink red and green, like Christmas lights on a gold coin tree.
The dragon’s scales are red and gold, the color of flickering flames. A scaled foot planted beside me has a glimmering gold cuff banding it.
Oh no. I point to the dragon’s claw. He has you cuffed, too. I lift my wrist to show the dragon my cuffs, but in my dream my wrists are bare. I’m free.
The dragon’s rumble shakes the mountains of treasure. A few coins tumble down, threatening an avalanche.
Easy. I waver as the cave shudders with a dragon-made earthquake. Smoke curls around my ankles. The beast blows out a breath that blasts my skirt back.
I'm sorry, buddy. I reach out and touch the scaled head. Reptiles are cold-blooded and dragons are too, but the scales are warm to my touch. The dragon has hidden fires stoked in its belly.
It's okay, dragon friend. We're in this together now.
The dragon blinks. And then…
I'm sitting on a windowsill in the tower, my legs dangling over the castle wall. I’m not afraid of falling.
I’m no longer wearing the peasant skirt–the one that Gabriel sliced up before he tortured me with orgasms. I'm in a soft pair of joggers that billow a little bit like harem pants.
I lower myself onto a waiting ledge. I don’t need to look; I know it'll be there for me. I’m on a stone parapet, a ledge between an inner and outer wall of the castle. The parapet continues along a rampart in a long, gentle decline all the way to the ground. In ancient times, the parapet was a place where soldiers could drop things on the heads of the enemy in a siege. For me, it’s an escape route.