Page 21 of Delinquent Dette
If Eamon had plans, it was likely to kidnap a child, and he was smart enough to evade Frikka for years. Catching the Drake would be nigh impossible… So if he couldn’t hunt him down, he’d let Eamon come to him.
Frikka lay in the back seat, scooting himself in the floorboard. He stifled a chuckle as he thought of what Cinderwould do. Astink kittywould have been a good one. Pooing under the floormat? Storm had good ideas, too, though juvenile. Also, as a dragon, Frikka was far too big to do anything in a car.
Fortunately, Frikka didn’t have to wait long. And it wasnotone of the kids. And his assumption that Tyler was safe since he’d been mated?Incorrect.
He had to think quick. The scent of pregnant Dette and his own madness made Frikka nearly invisible to him. Tyler didn’t notice either, but Frikka was someone around him a lot. He could have tuned the Dette out easily.
Dragons could fly and were fast.Airport.If he were driving off, an airport would have been the best bet. Involve humans and it limited the likelihood of having a dragon intervene physically.
The Dette didn’t plead, as was befitting Leo’s brother. He questioned everything. Putting pieces together, he realized that Eamon lay behind his discovery and asked about Powel’s Dette brothers.Taken away by the council.Of course, Eamon had his own story.
And glory of all glory, Tyler’s magic pulsed through the car. Frikka had never quite figured out mechanical and technologically complex things, but the Dette had and within miles of the estate, the car shuddered. Frikka lent his power to whatever it was Tyler tried, letting his wild magic boost the efforts of his brethren. And with a sputter, the car stopped in the shaded part of an off-country road, beneath a copse of trees.
“Oh, never you mind, precious little Dette. I won’t trade off any Drake pups,” Eamon said, his arm reaching over. Frikka readied to attack the fool, but Tyler beat him to it.
Never underestimate what a Dette will do to protect or avenge their pups.
After all, Frikka had spent hundreds of years avenging one, and lost a whole clutch because of being driven away from his sanctuary. Had he stayed in Denmark and had his second clutchwith Sten—they’d both be Nidhogg and welcomed back into the arms of society. His mind traversed to the crushed egg, the little one undeveloped, his bicolored pattern a promise of a greater future stopped in its tracks.
Frikka shook his head and forced himself up from the floor, snatching Eamon by his hair before he could hit the Dette. “Wow, good one! Now, come with me, Eamon. We need totalk.”
Frikka shook the Drake, slid from the car, and whipped around, dragging Eamon by the hair of his head. “Neat trick with the engine. I am impressed.”
Eamon gave a spit of a whisper, and Frikka didn’t falter. “Sniveling weak Dette. All these years gone mad over a single egg with that pissant of a slave Drake.”
Frikka tried to give Tyler a comforting grin, but Frikka could be a little alarming at times with his enthusiasm for violence. “Wanna fight, Eamon, or do you want to hiss and spit a little? Were you half the dragon Sten ever was, I might have given you a heat.”
It was no secret that Frikka had been courted by the Bhaldraithe and was on his father’s radar for being traded off. Having a clutch had almost ruined Frikka’s value for trade, despite being proof he was fertile. How could having a clutch make him worth less? They wanted Dettes for two things—fucking and breeding. It proved he did both…well. “Seriously? How stupid are you to think you can steal your son’s mate? Disgusting!”
Frikka shook Eamon until his teeth clacked.
“Not my son’s mate. Mine. I bought him. He escaped before I could get there!” Eamon struggled at Frikka’s grasp. “Powel owes me. He was supposed to help me get another Dette, but he let the lesser Lochs soften him! Now, he steals my rightful Dette from me! He’s a fool. Still a silver… Even after I built his fortune…”
Tyler, who for his part looked like he was fighting his dragon not to shift and eat the Drake alive, gave Frikka a golden opportunity. “Who did you buy this Dette from?”
“Fuck you. Miserable whore.” Eamon spit and Frikka wiped it from his face, taking a calming breath. He’d snapped the neck of Drakes for less.
Frikka took a deep breath, staring Eamon down as hundreds of years of crazy built up as screaming voices in his head. Frikka’s mind raced, pushing through memories of crying pups gone silent, the sound an egg made as it crushed, and the hot breath of amorous Drakes who thought Frikka was property.
“Nope, he’s gold. Made it right as he got me. He didn’t want to say anything,” Tyler said, giving Eamon a chance to swing for Frikka. The Drake had never been in a real fight before and it showed by how easily Frikka sidestepped it.
“How did you purchase this Dette? He’s had no dragon to call family until weeks ago?” Frikka kicked his feet from beneath him.
Something in Frikka’s eyes must have made Eamon afraid. “Heard a rumor that my son was chasing a Dette that he was crazy over, that Hallr stole in the end, and I thought if his scent was attractive to Powel, that he’d be attractive to me. And to my delight? There’s a missing Dette brother out there! So, I paidsomeoneto find him and to my surprise, he was going into heat, and I couldn’t act fast enough, so I had him locked up. And my asshole son got involved… He’s a foundling, so I legally held claim first!”
By the old laws, perhaps. And they couldn’t punish him because Tyler wasn’t in a clan, but he had become blooded to a clan. Stealing him with Powel’s mate mark and a belly of eggs made him in violation of so much more.
Eamon sneered, his voice a whisper. “You were meant for my brother, and you murdered him over a mutt slave Drake’s egg.”
Rage swarmed Frikka’s senses as a vision fluttered through his mind. Bhaldraithe dragons, hiding, doing back-door deeds.The king of the Bhaldraithe.A Canadian clan head for the Loch there.
Not for fucking long.He didn’t need Eamon anymore. “Smallest one, come! Get your licks in.” Frikka waved Tyler over, who declined, keeping a hand on his stomach. Probably a good call.
“No? Kicking his ass won’t hurt the eggs. Trust me. A Drake expecting a clutch is a horny beast that’ll put you through much more than kicking this man in his stones.” Drakes became possessive when their mates carried and Dettes no better, the rutting almost heat-like at times. Still…Tyler declined, but he did pull a pair of handcuffs from his wrist.
“Like I haven’t been escaping cuffs since I was old enough to read. Raised by coyotes, fucker.” Tyler slapped them on the Drake and stared at Eamon before having a change of heart. A solid kick right into his knotmaker made Frikka nearly pity the Drake.Nearly.
“Ah, handcuffs… Kinky.” Frikka reached for the cuffs, but the swoop of wings and scent of Valhalla swept by him. A Drake ready to fight. Frikka nearly got hard just thinking about it.
