Page 84 of Accidentally a Dragon Daddy

Heads turned.

My heart soared.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Elanya

Damon walked into the middle of the group of armed officers. Several of them rivaled his height, but none of them seemed as large as he did at that moment.

“Who the fuck are you?” one of the officers snapped as he was shouldered aside.

“I,” Damon said, turning an imposing stare on the speaker, “am the one you truly want.”

Anderson snapped his fingers, and half the armed men turned their weapons on Damon. I watched, silent at first. I didn’t know whether these men knew Damon was a dragon. If they did, they would be aware of how little damage the weapons could do to him.

Or could they?

Fear shot through me. Damon was in his human form, not his dragon. Could he be harmed? Was his skin as vulnerable as mine, unlike the scales, which seemed impervious to human firepower of all sizes? Just what was he risking being there?

“Explain yourself,” Anderson said, taking charge of the situation once more as he appeared in front of Damon, calm and collected.

Either he’s extremely overconfident, or he has no idea Damon is a shifter.

My gut said it was the latter.

“I committed the crime,” Damon said, reaching slowly into a back pocket under the watchful gaze of a dozen semi-automatic rifles. “Here. This is the ID badge of the murder victim. I took it because I used it to break into his workplace several nights later.”

“Her DNA was found at the scene,” Anderson said, sizing Damon up. “Why should I believe you?”

Damon leaned in closer. The cold, murderous look on his face raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

“Because,” he said without emotion, “I can tell you exactly how he died. I can tell you the order of his fingers as I snapped them. The direction I twisted his bones to shatter them. I can describe the sounds they made. The screams. Every word he babbled to me in an attempt to get me to stop. I can tell you the exact time he died.”

“Can you explain her DNA?”

“I framed her,” he said bluntly, the look of death fading from his eyes as he glanced at me with an apologetic shrug. “She was a patsy. A pretty one, but that’s all she was at the time. I charmed her out of her clothes, stole some of her hair, and left her to wake up alone, none the wiser.”

“You moved my hairbrush,” I said. “I always put it in its spot. You left it on the far side of the sink. I assumed that meant you used it for your own mane.”

Anderson was glancing back and forth between us.

“Oops,” Damon said with a wry smile and another shrug. Then his features closed off once again as he stared down at Anderson. “Shall I begin with a description? Or are you going to be the smart agent I can tell you are, and let her go while you arrest me?”

Anderson thought it over.

“Do you know this man?” he asked me.

I nodded. “Every word he said is true. Well, aside from whether he killed him and how. I wasn’t there for that.”

“Where were you in this version of the story?” Anderson asked, pulling off his sunglasses.

“At home. Alone. Being pissy I apparently wasn’t good enough in bed or hot enough to get him to stick around for round two.” I shrugged. “There were a lot of tears and ice cream. It wasn’t pretty. I was under a lot of stress, constantly running supplies into the occupied territories. I had a bit of a breakdown.”

Anderson’s pale blue-gray eyes bore into me. Searching for any hint of a lie.

“Arrest him,” he said after a minute, sliding the sunglasses back into position.

Cuffs came off my wrists. I shook them to rid my skin of the cool touch of metal, watching while fighting back a smile as they tried—and failed—to get the cuffs around Damon’s wrists. Eventually, they resorted to some heavy-duty zip-ties that seemed to get the job done.

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