Celtic Dragons Read online

  “He’ll tell you about that part,” Kean said. “Our fee is reasonable. We’re here to help people, not gouge them.”

  “That’s very noble.”

  Kean kept his smile to himself. If only she knew. “After you get done with Ronan, I’ll be back at the agency. I’ll pick you up and we can go to your house for me to take a look around and for you to tell me more about what’s been happening. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds perfect,” Dhara said sincerely. “I’ve honestly been going out of my mind.”

  “Well, we’re going to get to the bottom of this. Whatever the answer is, we’ll find it,” Kean promised, reaching out to touch her arm lightly.

  The kinetic energy that flowed through her and into him was so powerful that it left him momentarily speechless. Dhara was gorgeous, sensual, intelligent, and she seemed utterly sweet and unbeguiling. He couldn’t remember a time when he had been so powerfully drawn to a woman, and he knew that, despite the fact that he was taking her on as a client, he wanted to bed her as well. Ronan frowned upon mixing business with pleasure, and even though Ronan himself was a ladies’ man to the extreme, he rarely, if ever, got involved with a client. It made things difficult for Kean, but it also inspired him to want to solve her case as quickly as possible.

  If she was no longer a client, then there could hardly be any objection to him finding his way into her newly ghost-free bed and being the only thing there that kept her up at night.

  “Kean?”

  He was staring at her, his hand still on her arm, and he stepped back, clearing his throat pointedly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he told her, a reassuring professional smile replacing the look of sheer lust that might have been on his face just seconds before.

  “Thank you,” Dhara said, so sincerely that her voice settled warmly around his heart. “Thank you so much.”

  Chapter Six

  Dhara

  Ronan Connolly was every bit as accommodating and helpful as Kean had been, and Dhara found it easy enough to get things squared away with him, signing a few pieces of paper that promised she wouldn’t sue the agency if they either could not solve her case or discovered something not to her liking. She paid the down payment, but when that was all done, Kean still wasn’t back, and Ronan had to leave for a meeting.

  It was Eamon Cleary who was charged with keeping her company until Kean returned, and Dhara found that she couldn’t stop looking at him. It wasn’t the same as with Kean, whom she had instantly been attracted to. She didn’t feel that same chemistry with Eamon, and yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his completely unusual, unique appearance.

  He was definitively a handsome man—there was no doubt of that. But he was so blond and fair that it was almost shocking. His skin was as pale as the moon, and his hair was white-blond, lying in a tidy wave that fell over one ear. His eyes provided the only color on his face—the same light blue as Kean. They couldn’t be too distantly related, with eyes so remarkably similar.

  Eamon was dressed all in black, which only accentuated his paleness, but somehow, though Dhara would never have guessed it, the whole look just worked for him. She couldn’t imagine him any other way, and he seemed utterly comfortable in his own skin.

  He wasn’t particularly talkative though. They stood in the main suite of the offices, looking at each other, and while Eamon seemed perfectly at ease with the silence, it was making Dhara a bit twitchy.

  “How long have you worked here?” she asked him, trying to make conversation.

  “About seven years.”

  “Oh, that’s a long time then,” Dhara said. “I read some article recently that said that the new generation of workers rarely stay in one position for longer than five years.”

  “Huh,” Eamon said, nodding.

  They fell silent again, and Dhara bit down on her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth. “You don’t have to stand in here with me,” she said. “I have no problem waiting for Kean by myself if you’re busy.”

  “I’m not busy,” Eamon said, dragging a hand through his hair, then leaving it to fall perfectly back into place.

  He said nothing else, and Dhara began to get truly antsy as the silence grew, but then the front door opened and Kean walked in. She had to hold back her sigh of relief, her smile wide as she greeted him.

  “Hi!”

  He smiled back at her. “Hey. Did you get everything squared away?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “Ronan was great. He just left a few minutes ago for a meeting, and Eamon has been keeping me company.”

  Amusement flickered in Kean’s eyes. “Ah, Eamon’s strong suit. Companionship.”

  Eamon smirked, clearly in on the joke and in no way offended by it. Then he nodded to Dhara and turned away, walking back to his office.

  As soon as Eamon left, Dhara let out a rush of breath. “God, that was the longest few minutes!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, not in any way wanting to be rude about anyone associated with the agency that was going to help her. “Sorry.”

  Kean let out a loud laugh, gesturing for her to follow him out of the building. “Don’t apologize. Eamon knows he’s a robot walking around pretending to be normal.”

  “He’s very striking.”

  “Oh, that’s Eamon for you,” Kean agreed, leading her over to his car and opening the passenger door for her, holding her hand as she lifted herself inside. “He’s got mysterious and sexy down to a T.”

  Kean closed the door and walked around to the other side, which saved Dhara from saying something really silly—like that Kean was far sexier than Eamon, even if there was an icy appeal to the blond man. Better to focus on the case at hand and finally get answers about whatever was terrorizing her in her own home. She wasn’t looking to flirt—she was trying to live.

  “So,” Kean said, as he started up the car and put it into reverse. “Where do you live?”

  She gave him the address and glanced over as he pulled out onto the main road. “Aren’t you going to wear your seatbelt?”

  Kean chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

  “Well, it’s just a basic safety measure,” she said, wondering why she’d voiced the question at all. It was hardly any of her business, and though she was tightly strapped into her own seat, she didn’t really have any right to ask him to do the same. Even if it was just the logical thing to do.

  “You’re right,” Kean said, reaching for his seatbelt. “It’s safer this way.”

  There was something in his tone that she couldn’t quite understand, but she didn’t press him on it, already feeling awkward for having brought it up in the first place. “I really appreciate you dropping everything to come out here and help me,” she said. “I hope that I haven’t interrupted your schedule.”

  “There are cases I’m working on,” he told her, stopping at a red light. “But nothing pressing at the moment. We get busy rushes, and then times when things are more flexible. It can change from day to day.”

  “It’s an interesting job,” Dhara said, looking out the window as they began driving again. “I never thought I would be here, needing the services of an investigator. Particularly not for something like this. It’s like being on a rollercoaster of fear and self-doubt. When I’m in the house, experiencing it, I can hardly breathe. But the moment I leave the house and walk down a street or into a store or go to work, it’s almost impossible to believe that any of it really happened. I feel, literally, like I’m going out of my mind. Am I?”

  He looked over at her. “You seem perfectly sane to me. I don’t think that’s the problem. Do you know who owned the house before you?”

  “No,” Dhara said. “I mean, I know the names of the people, but nothing much more than what’s on public record. I did try to look them up, but there was no article about their violent death and the subsequent haunting of their former home.”

  “That would be too easy,” he agreed, smiling slightly a
s he pulled on to her street. “Still, I would be interested to find out if they ever reported any issues. Do you know how long they lived there?”

  “Years, I think,” Dhara said, shaking her head. “Why would they live there years if they were experiencing the same thing? I’ve only been there a few months, and I’m already at my wit’s end. If you can’t figure this out for me, I’m going to sell the house for whatever I can get for it. And I really don’t want to do that. I sank all my money into it, wanting to make a home.”

  He pulled into her driveway and reached over to pat her hand. “I’m going to make sure that you get to keep your home,” he promised her. “There’s no case I can’t solve. At least, there hasn’t been yet.”

  His sexy voice, carrying just a hint of Boston accent that was paired with something else she didn’t recognize, reassured her, and Dhara looked into his eyes. “I think you probably will. I’m just scared of what that will mean for me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Kean

  As soon as Kean walked into Dhara’s house, he felt it. It crackled along his skin, and only years of discipline kept him from immediately transforming into a dragon with a twelve-foot wingspan right there in Dhara’s front entryway. His inner being was desperate to get out, connecting to the thick, heavy paranormal presence in the house. He hadn’t doubted Dhara’s claims to begin with, but now he knew for certain that her worst suspicions were right. He just couldn’t tell her how he was so sure without having to explain his own connection to the paranormal world, so he kept his manner laid back and his face neutral as they walked through the downstairs portion of the house, Kean running his hand over the mantle and feeling powerful sparks in his fingertips that flowed up his arm and settled low in his gut.

  The rage that burned inside of Kean wasn’t his. It was transference, the spirit or spirits present in the house pushing emotion onto him. It told Kean that Dhara had every right to be afraid of what was living in her house with her.

  “It’s a nice place,” he said, still keeping his tone noncommittal. “How old is it?”

  “It was built in 1867, not long after the Civil War,” Dhara told him. “I thought that was interesting. It was a house born out of a country reunifying.”

  Kean nodded, crouching down in front of the fireplace and poking around in the ashes. “Do you light this often?”

  “I actually haven’t yet,” she said. “I’d like to, especially while it’s been so cold. But I never have the time to go and get the wood.”

  “Don’t,” Kean said, looking up at her. “Don’t light it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t want to give any enemies a weapon to use against you,” he said. “I know that sounds dramatic, but we have to be cautious. If there’s a presence in this house that wants to act against you, you don’t want to provide it with fire.”

  Dhara’s swarthy skin went several shades paler, but she nodded, tight-lipped. “All right.”

  Standing up, Kean touched her arm gently, trying to reassure her. “It’s just a precaution.”

  It wasn’t a precaution though. The anger within Kean was growing the longer he stayed in the house, and he was now having to work to keep those transferred emotions separate from his own. The rage that existed in the house was so potent that there was no way that Kean was going to allow Dhara to stay here alone tonight. It was a miracle that nothing had happened to her yet besides a few bad scares.

  “You look very serious,” Dhara said quietly. “Is it bad?”

  Kean stepped away from the window and looked back at her. “I just take my work very seriously,” he said. “I haven’t drawn any conclusions yet.” He hesitated for a moment then walked over to her. “Dhara, I’d like you to give me some time in the house by myself. Do you think you could do that for me? I’ll be more effective—get better answers for you.”

  She frowned, her eyes darting to the side, landing on all her possessions.

  He didn’t have to be supernatural to read her mind. “I’m not a thief.”

  “No, of course not.” She flushed, but she didn’t deny that it had been her first thought. “I don’t think you are. If …you need time alone here, that’s fine, I guess. I mean, of course it’s fine. You’re the expert.”

  Kean smiled at her, reaching out and pressing her hand. “Take my car, so that we’re even. I’ll be in your house, and you’ll be in my car. Go spend an hour or so out doing errands—whatever you want. I’ll be here when you get back, and we can talk.”

  Dhara nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. Sure.”

  Walking her toward the door, Kean handed her the keys, then tried to give her a reassuring smile. “One hour.”

  “One hour,” she agreed, slipping out the door with one more long glance over her shoulder.

  He closed it behind her and turned around, his eyes darting here and there in the entryway. Without Dhara there, watching his every move, he was free to interact with the power in the house in a more natural way. He stepped forward, closing his eyes and opening his mind. Images immediately began to flash in his mind. A woman’s face filled his thoughts, terror etched in her features, and then, behind her, a man whose expression contained such evil that it rocked Kean to his core. Lightning flashed, and then there was screaming—a blood-red film covered the scene, followed by silent darkness.

  It was disturbing, but it was nothing that Kean wasn’t used to. In dragon form or not, he had such a powerful connection to the supernatural world that it was common for him to walk into a place touched by spirits and feel the pain, anguish, and fear that existed there. On occasion, he would walk into a space that was filled with lightness and joy, but those moments were few and far between. There was so much darkness in the world, and it caused so many people pain. If he was to believe the images he saw, whoever was occupying Dhara’s house with her was in a great deal of pain. The problem with taking the images at face value, though, was that spirits were notorious liars. They lived under a law unto themselves, and they were hardly welcoming of interference, whether it be from the human or supernatural world. The spirit would show him whatever it thought might run him off—and that might or might not be the truth of what had happened in the house.

  “You can’t mess with me,” Kean said quietly, walking further into the house and letting his instincts guide him along as the presence around him grew more powerful. It led him down hallways and through the dining room and into the kitchen, almost as though it was running from him, sensing his power as much as he sensed its. It made his eyes flash and his skin itch, so desperate was he to shift out of his human constraints and live in the form that was most true to who he was—his dragon form.

  When he arrived at the base of the stairs, Kean could feel the energy of the spirits pulsing with a hot anger. He placed one foot on the carpeted staircase, and then, almost outside of his own control, he ascended to the second floor, following the emotions he was feeling all the way to the back of the house, where there was a bedroom so large and spacious that it would have rivaled the first apartment he had ever lived in on his own.

  At the far end of the room, there was a bed, and though it was so impeccably made that it could have been untouched for months, Kean sensed that this was the master bedroom that Dhara had been staying in. Immediately, he was torn between imagining her in that bed, hair spread out around her, skin soft and warm, limbs spread out invitingly, and focusing on the intense power that pulsed in the center of the room. If he stared, he could almost see the energy’s glow.

  Kean walked to the left, opening the first door he came to and finding the master bathroom. The door beside it led to a walk-in closet that was filled with tidy rows of professional garb for Dhara. There was no energy in either room, and he quickly closed the doors, turning back to face the center of the room.

  He frowned, his eyes scanning over each wall and piece of furniture. His connection to the energy was suddenly blocked. He could sense the presence around him still, but some
thing had changed, and he was now being actively shut out from any connection to the being in the house.

  Just as he started to speak out loud, the curtains behind him suddenlysnapped shut, blocking out the daylight, and the air in the room turned so frigidly cold that Kean felt as though he was standing in the middle of a blizzard. Wind whipped around him, and then, out of nowhere, he felt his transition starting to trigger.

  It wasn’t unheard of. Strong supernatural forces could inspire a protective instinct in Kean that would thrust him into his most powerful form. But Dhara’s bedroom was hardly the place for him to become a chestnut-brown dragon with brown eyes, fire-breathing abilities, a jaw that could crush bones, and a body that looked bulky but was as agile and flexible as the most elegant gymnast. It wasn’t just that she might return and catch him, but that his sudden transformation would likely break her mirror, her bed, her pretty jars on top of her dresser, and who knew what else in the room. It would shred his clothing, and worst of all, it would leave a permanent paranormal stamp on the room that would only intensify the power of whatever presence already haunted the area.

  Transitioning would be the worst thing he could do right now, and yet he could feel his skin tingling and his body expanding, straining against the fabric of his clothing.

  “Enough!” he shouted out, his voice booming with power. “I hear you, okay? I know you’re here. Find a different way to talk to me.”

  For a brief second, the urge to transition lingered, but then it eased, and then disappeared completely. Kean took a deep, cleansing breath, straightening his back as he faced the room again.

  “Good,” he said, since the spirit, or spirits, could clearly hear him. “I’m glad we understand each other. I’m in charge here—so let’s be clear on that. However, I do want to help you, so—”

  His sentence cut off as he flew backward against the wall, his body slamming against the wallpaper-covered plaster with a sickening thud. There was so much weight on his chest that Kean couldn’t breathe, and as strong as he was, he couldn’t move either. Whatever lived in Dhara’s house was far more powerful than any spirit he had come across so far, and as he struggled in vain against it, he realized that he was up against a foe that was more than his equal.