Aiden approached a wickedly sharp-looking double-edged sword, his gaze sweeping its elaborate dragon’s claw hilt. He bent for a closer inspection. The details were eerily realistic, right down to the texture of the scales. Without question, he knew he was staring at a larger representation of the silver claw his mother always kept around her neck. What the fuck?
Straightening, he glanced toward the vendor camped in the corner. The man was dressed in Viking garb, complete with a fur pelt thrown over his wide shoulders and a formidable horned helmet perched on his head. Despite the fellow’s appearance, Aiden sincerely doubted the man spent his days pillaging villages. Or hanging out with dragons. So how the blazes did the man get his hands on a nine-hundred-year-old design for the Drakoni insignia?
He elbowed a path through the milling shoppers, making his way to the vendor. The man saw him coming and immediately ditched his menacing glower.
“Aye, milord, something I can help ye find?” The man’s thick Jersey accent destroyed the whole Viking vibe.
“No, I’m curious about one of your swords. The one with the dragon claw.”
The man nodded. “Isn’t she a beaut? Claud knocked herself out on that one.”
“Claud?”
“Yeah, the artist.” The man swiveled his head, nearly taking Aiden’s eye out with one of the horn tips. “Now where’d she go? Girl disappears faster than goddamn David Copperfield.”
A prickling sensation crawled along the back of Aiden’s neck. Jerking around, he locked gazes with a female standing across the way. She was tall, probably close to six feet, with jet-black hair highlighted with neon pink streaks. Her only concession to the Renaissance theme was the fur stole draped over her shoulders—an exact match to the one on the Viking. Unlike her comrade, Aiden didn’t doubt for a second that she spent her every waking second pillaging villages. Hell, Claudia Knoxville came from a wild, renegade line of dragons that’d reaped a small fortune pirating the seven seas, and she proudly carried on the family tradition. If there was a dirty deed needing done, Claudia was the go-to girl. If you could afford to pay her price.
Question was, why the hell was she here impersonating an artist?
Intending to get to the bottom of that mystery, Aiden started across the room. Claudia spun, her fur pelt flapping. Not about to let her escape, he zigzagged the opposite direction, closing the gap between him and the entrance to the booth. She’d have to walk past him to leave. Someone tugged on his shirt and he whipped around.
The old gal with the crazy purple hair beamed up at him. “See you’ve decided to take a break from our Dana.”
“Uh…” Aiden lifted his head and caught Claudia waggling her fingers at him before she stepped from the booth and slunk around the outside corner. Giving a silent growl, he returned his attention to the woman in front of him.
Oblivious to the interception she’d just foiled, the woman squeezed his arm. “Ooh, you’re a muscular lad, aren’t you? Our Dana is quite the lucky duck.”
He granted her a wry grimace. “Our Dana is far from thrilled at having me here.”
“Pooh, give her time. She’s got a strong independent streak, and she’s stubborn as a pack mule.”
Aiden couldn’t help grinning. “You’ve pegged her there.”
“I know, dearie. I’m a psychic. Maybe I should have it stamped on a sweatshirt. It’d save me the hassle of always explaining it to everyone.” She flicked back the edge of her cape with a grumble.
Worried he’d somehow offended her, he offered his arm. “Would you care to join me for the rest of my stroll…?”
“It’s Haddie,” she supplied, filling in the blank. Her eyes twinkled. “And you bet your hot diggity I would. I’ll be the envy of every woman here.” Slapping her hand on his biceps, she led him from the booth.
For the next thirty minutes she entertained him with stories from her youth and the occasional odd impression she picked up on people walking by. So far she’d filled him in on the portly guy in the incense shop who suffered from a herniated disc and the tattooed gal who debated whether or not to break up with her deadbeat boyfriend.
He shook his head. “It must be strange knowing all these intimate details about folks you don’t even know.”
Haddie shrugged. “No stranger than it must be for you dealing with that dragon living inside of you.”
Aiden stumbled in mid-stride. “How—” He stopped himself before uttering the words that’d earn her mulish glare.
“Dana told me,” she said, catching him off guard.
He let that piece of news sink in. Apparently he needed to have a talk with Dana. He’d assumed she’d see the danger in running her mouth about the Drakoni, but obviously he’d been wrong.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
There she went with the scary psychic shit again. Her mouth curled in a cheeky grin that let him know she was wise to the fact she’d just creeped him out. He didn’t have the chance to call her on it though because they’d arrived at Dana’s booth. Craning his neck, he looked for his aggravating sacrifice and Jace. He spotted both in the back corner of the hut. Jace appeared to be in full flirt mode. The sight of his brother toying playfully with Dana’s hair while she batted him away elicited a spike of jealousy inside Aiden’s gut. He turned his back on the pair, disgusted by his involuntary reaction.
Haddie was watching him with a pitying look. That stung more than anything. Intuiting his surly mood, she squeezed his hand. “You of all people should know things aren’t always what they first seem.”
Much as he wanted to concede that Haddie might have a point, there was also the irrevocable circumstances staring him in the eye. Jace desired Dana and he would eventually have her. There wasn’t a damn thing Aiden could do to change it.
Dana set her plan into motion the instant she coasted to a stop in front of her garage. Schooling a sweet, innocent smile into place, she waited for Aiden and Jace to climb from the Navigator. “How about if I make dinner for both of you tonight?”
To say they appeared stunned would be an epic understatement. Worried they’d become suspicious of her sudden change in attitude, she hurriedly dug for a reasonable explanation. “I have a package of steaks I’ve been meaning to cook.” At least it wasn’t a total lie. She’d purchase the steaks a few months ago, when her annual maybe-I-should-learn-to-cook phase coincided with the grocery store’s half-off-meat extravaganza.
“Hell, I’m not gonna say no to a steak dinner,” Jace said with a chuckle.
Aiden shook off his expression of bafflement and inclined his head. “Thanks, it’s real nice of you to offer.”
The genuine delight in his tone was almost enough to elicit a twinge of guilt inside her. She quickly shoved the emotion away. This was a battle for her life here. She couldn’t afford to get sappy. “I’ll call for you when everything’s ready.” Spinning on her heel, she jogged toward the house.
Once inside, she bypassed her stash of Lean Cuisines in the freezer and chiseled the package of steaks from its igloo of ice. She threw the container into the microwave to defrost. Trekking to her bedroom, she stripped from the wench dress and tugged on jeans and her favorite fuzzy sweater. With that accomplished, she returned to the kitchen and checked the status of the steaks. Ten more minutes left on the defrost cycle.
Humming, she scrounged in the fridge for enough fixings to make a salad. All she found was a head of celery—the same one she’d thrown into the crisper two weeks ago and promptly forgot about. Other than a little wilting of the upper foliage, it looked exactly the same as when she first bought it. “Wow, this stuff is like the Teflon of produce.” Tossing it on the counter, she went in search of a knife.