Protected By The Dragon (District Shifters Book 4)

  Protected by the Dragon

  District Shifters

  Lola Gabriel

  Protected by the Dragon: District Shifters

  Text Copyright © 2020 by Lola Gabriel

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2020

  Publisher

  Secret Woods Books

  secretwoodsbooks@gmail.com

  www.SecretWoodsBooks.com

  Contents

  Secret Woods Books

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Other Books You Will Love

  Thank You

  About the Author

  Secret Woods Books

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  Prologue

  Mitchell Cole felt as though insects were crawling over his skin when he first laid his eyes on Joshua. Joshua was making no attempt to hide his true identity as a demon. He had no reason to. He knew who Mitchell was, just like Mitchell knew who he was.

  Joshua’s skin was a deep blue, with crusty looking cracks across his cheeks. His eyes glowed purple, not usually a color Mitchell associated with danger, but looking at this creature, he sure as hell did now.

  Joshua stepped forward into the sunlight, leaving behind the shadows of the cave. It did nothing to make him look any less intimidating, and Mitchell found himself swallowing hard. He had to remind himself of who he was: the alpha of the District 117 dragon pack. Not a man to be messed with by anyone, let alone by a dirty Matchmaker.

  “Mitchell. A pleasure to see you,” Joshua smiled. The gesture revealed a row of sharp looking brilliantly white teeth, one of which had a gold cap. “Have you come to consider my wares? I have a real gem here. She’s twenty-four, very pretty. Blonde hair, greenish-blue eyes. I think she’d be just your type.”

  Mitchell felt the emotions inside of himself conflicting deeply with each other. On the one hand, he felt such a strong sense of revulsion that this vile creature thought he knew enough about him to accurately predict who would or wouldn’t be his type, although he suspected that was just Joshua’s sales pattern. On the other hand, he felt a sense of relief to know that Tilly was indeed here. Joshua had just described her perfectly. The girl he had definitely had to be her.

  While he would enjoy beating Joshua senseless either way, if Tilly was being held somewhere else, it would be much harder to find her.

  “Let her go,” Mitchell said through gritted teeth, his anger taking over his initial fear.

  Joshua threw his head back and laughed.

  “Why on earth would I do that? That little honey is going to fetch me a very good price. You know, you should lighten up a bit, Mitchell. Just because you’re happy to be alone and lonely doesn’t mean everyone is. All you’re doing by trying to stop me running my business is depriving one of our kind their chance at happiness. Don’t you think we immortals should all be sticking together?”

  “Not when that means standing by and watching you turn a woman into a shifter against her will just to make yourself rich, I don’t,” Mitchell replied.

  He had known going into this that it wouldn’t be easy. He had, in the past, had dealings with Joshua before, though he had never met him in person, and he knew from just those dealings that Joshua wasn’t the type to be reasoned with. He still had to try. Mitchell wasn’t the type to attack first and ask questions later.

  “Okay, I get it.” Joshua flashed his teeth again. “You disapprove. That’s not my problem, and quite frankly, I don’t need your approval. Now why don’t you go back to the city? You can tell yourself you tried to be the hero and rescue some damsel in distress, who, might I add, is going to have a much better life with a shifter than she could ever hope to have with that miserable boyfriend of hers.”

  “I’m going to ask you nicely once more to let her go,” Mitchell said.

  “And if I say no? Who exactly is going to make me? You? Don’t make me laugh,” Joshua sneered, his contempt for Mitchell written all over his face.

  Mitchell’s anger exploded inside of him. How dare this vile creature disrespect him like that? He knew then he was done trying to do this the peaceful way, and he ran towards Joshua, his fist raised. Joshua laughed, a sound full of taunting that only made Mitchell madder. Mitchell had almost closed the gap between himself and Joshua when he heard a whisper inside of his mind.

  Give it up. Go home. None of this is your concern.

  Mitchell felt some of the anger leave him, and he stood still for a moment, trying to work out why he was even here. This wasn’t his problem. Just because Tilly’s boyfriend knew enough about the supernatural world to come to him for help didn’t mean he was actually obligated to help. He could just walk away. Why risk the wrath of Joshua and risk starting some sort of blood feud between his own pack and the demons of the district?

  No, the voice was right. This wasn’t worth the risk.

  Mitchell raised his hands and started to back away from Joshua. Joshua watched him go, no longer looking amused. Mitchell couldn’t read his expression. It looked like he was concentrating on something, but surely Mitchell’s retreat wasn’t that interesting?

  As Mitchell began to back away, he noticed something about Joshua’s eyes. The purple color had spread. There was no visible pupil, no white, just the purple color. And somehow, Mitchell knew what was happening. That wasn’t the voice of reason in his head. It was Joshua’s voice. Joshua was using mind control on him.

  How dare he pull this shit with an alpha dragon? Mitchell forced himself to look away from Joshua’s mesmerizing eyes. It wasn’t easy—it took every bit of self-control Mitchell had, and he knew if he had waited even a minute longer, it would have been too late. His anger engulfed him once more, and this time, he embraced it, unleashing the furious dragon inside of himself. Joshua might be able to get inside of his head, but he would never be able to get into the head of his dragon and exert his will over him in that form.

  Mitchell felt his skin begin to split, scales springing up all over his body. His face began to change shape, becoming elongated, and he felt his eyes turning red. His bones snapped and cracked as they rearranged themselves, and he felt his wings come out, his back splitting down his shoulder blades.

  He stood before Joshua as a ferocious dragon, and he could see now that Joshua no longer looked amused by the situation or like he was concentrating. He knew that look on Joshua’s face. It was fear. It made Mitchell’s dragon happy.

  Mitchell roared, a plume of fire and smoke pouring from his mouth and nose, rushing over Joshua. Joshua screamed as fire engulfed him and his skin began to
blister and blacken. Mitchell roared again, sending out another plume of fire and hearing another unearthly scream. He watched as Joshua rolled around on the ground, trying and failing to put out the flames. It was no use. The fire would burn until Joshua was just bones with nothing else to feed its hunger for fuel.

  Once that happened, Joshua’s body would regenerate, and Mitchell knew he didn’t have much time if he wanted to get Tilly out of there without having her see him in his dragon form. He turned back to human form and ran into the cave, ignoring what was left of Joshua and blocking out his pitiful cries.

  1

  Mitchell jumped awake to someone banging on his door. The banging was so loud, he thought that the door might be about to cave in.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming!” he yelled, jumping out of bed and pulling on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt from beside his bed. The knocking continued, although the intensity calmed down a little. Mitchell started down the stairs. This had better be good. Like, emergency level good.

  If it’s Samuel here to tell me something that could have waited until a more civilized time, I swear I won’t be impressed, Mitchell thought to himself in irritation. As he did, he checked his watch, surprised to see it was already past nine.

  So, it was already a civilized time. It didn’t excuse the abrupt manner of the knocking, though. He knew why he had slept so late. Turning into his dragon form always left him more tired, and he had been in the form yesterday, but it had been worth making him run late today. Saving Tilly from the Matchmaker and seeing her and her partner’s faces when they were reunited made it all worthwhile. Or did it?

  It made the late morning worthwhile, but Mitchell was sure Joshua wasn’t going to take this lying down and just keep out of his way. No, he would want his revenge on Mitchell, so Mitchell would have to be careful for a while. He should really warn the pack, too, in case the other demons got involved, even though he didn’t think they would. No one liked a Matchmaker except those who used them, and if the demons knew what Joshua was, they would likely know why Mitchell had gone to his lair.

  All of this went through his head as he jogged down the stairs and to the door, pulling it open.

  “This had better be good, Samuel. What—” His words trailed off as he saw not Samuel looking back at him, but two police officers. Four more waited at the end of his driveway. All of them had guns raised.

  “Woah, what the hell?” Mitchell said, automatically raising his hands.

  Their bullets wouldn’t kill him. Only silver or Ure bullets could do that. The police had no access to Ure. It was so rare, only very few hunters got their hands on it, and they tended to like the showiness of keeping the metal in its original form: swords. And Mitchell had no reason to believe the police knew what he was, so it was unlikely they had silver bullets. He raised his hands, not out of the fear of being shot and killed, but because if he was shot, he would then have to try and explain how he healed pretty much instantly.

  “Mitchell Cole?” one of the officers close to the door said.

  Mitchell nodded. “Yes. That’s me. What’s this about, officer?”

  “It’s detective, actually. Detective Burns. Mitchell Cole, I’m arresting you on the suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law. It may harm your defense to not mention now something which you later rely on in court. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

  “I… yes,” Mitchell said, shocked into silence for the moment.

  His mind was racing. What the hell was going on here? There was no way Joshua had died from his fire. He would have been in a lot of pain, sure, but he deserved that simply because of what he was. But he wasn’t dead. He was immortal. Who the hell did this cop think he had killed?

  “With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” Detective Burns went on.

  “Yes, of course,” Mitchell said instantly. “I think there’s been some misunderstanding here. I haven’t killed anyone. Why would I do that?”

  Detective Burns ignored Mitchell’s questions and pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. He held them out for Mitchell to see.

  “Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way, sir?” he asked, the sarcasm in his tone evident on the last word.

  Mitchell thought about it. He could take this cop and all the others down in a matter of seconds, but he had nothing to hide, and he figured it would be easier just to go with them, answer their questions, and get this mess cleared up.

  “We’ll do it the easy way,” he replied, his voice calm and even.

  Detective Burns nodded and smiled, a callous smile. Mitchell could see he was one of those cops who relished this, the bit of power he had over the everyday citizen.

  “Turn around and slowly lower your hands and bring them around behind your back,” he said.

  Mitchell complied, making sure to move slowly. He could feel anger starting to bite at the edge of his brain, and he fought his dragon down before it could burst forth. Having his eyes flash red if he lost control of the anger for even a second wasn’t going to bode well for him in this situation.

  He put his hands at the small of his back and felt the first biting cuff wrap around his left wrist. It was pulled roughly to the side, and his right wrist was imprisoned in the same manner. He again swallowed down the anger inside of himself.

  “Let’s go,” Detective Burns snapped.

  “Wait,” Mitchell said. “Can I at least get my keys and lock my front door?”

  He could see in Detective Burns’ face that he was about to say no. The other cop, the one who hadn’t said so much as a word at this point, seemed to see it, too, and he jumped in.

  “Where are they? I’ll get them,” he said.

  Detective Burns looked at him, his face angry.

  “What?” the other cop asked. “If we leave the property unlocked and anything is taken, we become libel for it. Do we really need another stack of paperwork?”

  Detective Burns sighed and nodded his agreement.

  “They’re in a small red bowl on the table at the bottom of the stairs,” Mitchell said, answering the question the cop had asked him before Detective Burns got all pissy about it and changed his mind.

  The cop nodded and stepped past Mitchell into the house. He found the keys and bent down. Mitchell frowned, wondering what he was doing. He reminded himself he had nothing to hide, and the cop could poke about all he wanted to. The cop straightened up and came back to Mitchell, and Mitchell saw he hadn’t been poking around. He’d been picking up his trainers. He dropped them at his feet, and Mitchell thanked him and slipped his feet into them.

  So they’re playing good cop and bad cop then, huh? he thought, stepping out of the house. The cop locked his front door and dropped the keys into the pocket of Mitchell’s tracksuit bottoms. They led him down the driveway to the waiting car. Mitchell wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing: his neighbors seeing him being arrested, or them seeing him in public dressed like a slob.

  One of the other cops pulled the back door of the car open. Detective Burns pushed down on Mitchell’s head with no warning, causing him to bend forward, stumble, and almost fall. He cursed as he caught himself. Detective Burns kept pushing down on his head until he was inside of the car.

  “We’ll have less of that language,” Detective Burns snapped. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to act in public?”

  “With all due respect, sir, you’re the one who almost pushed me over. I’m cooperating, and there’s no need to push me around like that. My mother taught me that the police were to be respected, but she also taught me that innocent men have nothing to fear from them. I’m guessing she had never met you.”

  Mitchell had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from laughing when he saw Detective Burns’ face go red and a vein in his forehead s
tart to bulge. He had touched a nerve. He warned himself to rein it in a little. Getting the cop angrier wasn’t going to help fix this mess, but for the moment, he was happy with his small victory.

  Detective Burns slammed the door closed without responding, and Mitchell claimed another tiny victory. By the time Detective Burns and the other cop were in the front of the car, Mitchell had composed himself enough to erase the small smile from his lips. He didn’t think it was prudent for someone suspected of murder to be sitting in the police car grinning.

  Detective Burns fired up the car engine and pulled away from the curb. He didn’t bother with the sirens until they hit the thicker traffic in the city center.

  “Might I ask what this is about?” Mitchell asked as they sped across town towards the police station.

  “I’ll be the one asking the questions,” Detective Burns replied.

  Mitchell sighed. The one time in his life he had been arrested, and he seemed to have gotten the stereotypical detective who spoke in grunts and clichés. Great.

  They arrived at the police station. Mitchell was bundled inside, and his pockets were emptied. He was given a receipt for what they took. Just his keys. He was then taken to a room where the handcuffs were released and his fingerprints were taken, along with his mugshots. Finally, he was taken to a small room with a table and four chairs, two on one side of the table and two on the other. The cop who took him there told him it was an interview room. More like an interrogation room, if Detective Burns had his way. Mitchell wisely kept the thought to himself.