Black Moon Dragon Read online

  “Yes, please.” Jessalyn handed over a ten-dollar note and waited for her change.

  “Hamburger with the works and fries,” the woman hollered as she offered Jessalyn several coins.

  “Hamburger works and fries,” a young male called back, his voice cracking and soaring higher at the end of his sentence.

  Jessalyn planted herself on a holey leather-covered bench and waited. A family arrived—a mother pushing a stroller with a baby plus a husband and a screaming toddler.

  “Here,” Jessalyn said to the mother. “Have a seat. My order won’t be much longer.”

  The mother sank onto the seat with a grateful smile. “It’s been a long afternoon, but hopefully Junior will sleep through the night. We’ve exhausted them with fresh air and exercise.”

  Jessalyn murmured polite agreement and did a bobblehead nod, despite her lack of experience with children. “Is there a nearby park where I could eat my dinner?”

  “Yes, we’ve come from there. Turn left and follow the bike and walking path along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. The park is a ten-minute walk, faster for you since you don’t have children stopping to investigate every little thing. Or you can walk across the old Mangere Bridge toward Ambury Park. There’s a small park that way too.”

  “Thanks.” Jessalyn stood to accept her burger from the beefy woman at the counter.

  Outside the takeaway shop, she hesitated as she recalled the woman’s directions. She glanced left and right and picked left, eager to escape the delectable curry scent. Everything inside her churned. Her stomach. Her mind. Her thoughts. She bit her lip and scanned her surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Six steps later, she halted, whirled, and marched right.

  The faint anxiety that had assailed her faded as she approached the old bridge, which now days was restricted to pedestrians, cyclists, and fishermen.

  Jessalyn jerked her head in a silent greeting to two elderly men who dangled hand-lines over the edge of the bridge railing. Once she passed, they continued with their discussion on which team might win the Super Rugby competition this year. This area spoke to her. A pity the apartment hadn’t worked out, but the creep factor from those two men… Yuck. No sense baiting trouble or making her life more difficult than it was now.

  The water whooshed and slapped the shoreline with tiny waves, and the breeze tugged at her hair. In deference to the warm day and her job in a steamy kitchen, she’d tied her long hair into a knot at her nape. Now, she released the black locks and let the breeze stir the strands into disarray. With the turmoil in her life, the last thing she needed was to worry about her appearance.

  Her mind slipped back to Danny. He’d attempted to kiss her a second time. She’d backed up and immediately scrubbed away the lingering contact. It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy a kiss or two or sex but Danny’s kisses repelled her. Wet, for one. Slobbery. Her actions had injured his feelings, and he’d stomped away in a huff. They hadn’t spoken much before she’d left Piha.

  Guilt sliced through her again as it did every time her thoughts turned to Danny.

  They’d been friends forever, yet at the end, the gap between them had never yawned wider. When she’d needed him most.

  Jessalyn shoved Danny and her life in Piha—the fires—to the closet of her mind. The small park the woman had mentioned was a tiny sliver of green amongst the houses and other buildings. Despite the twilight, she was able to pick out one of the old, dormant volcanoes that studded the area. Unfamiliar with the suburb, she decided to visit the library soon and print out a map to orient herself.

  She picked a spot on the ground, near to the waterfront, and sat to eat her burger. After her walk, her food was lukewarm but her hungry belly didn’t care. She bit into her burger, having difficulty getting her mouth around the meat patty and salad filling. Despite the slovenly appearance of the woman serving at the counter, the food was tasty and lettuce crunched as she bit down. A tiny moan escaped as the tang of relish, the sweetness of beetroot, and the caramelized meat combined. She swallowed and made herself pick up a fry. Lessons learned since arriving in Auckland. If she gobbled her food, she paid for it later. Her stomach turned acidic and soon fire surged up her throat.

  Even though it was getting late, Jessalyn didn’t hurry. Since a kind person had stolen most of her stuff and spare cash three days ago while she’d been at work, she’d had to leave the pay-by-day lodgings and sleep rough. Somewhere here in Onehunga was as good a place as any. The Domain had become too dangerous. If the weird flaming thing started again…

  Jessalyn finished her meal and stood. She slapped dry grass off her jeans and wandered away from the shore toward the old volcano crater. A dog barked when she passed a house, and a woman spoke sharply, ordering the animal to desist. Jessalyn increased her pace, hurrying past since she hated to draw attention.

  The sections ahead were bigger, and this part of the street seemed more manufacturing with warehouses and wire fences around boundaries. Somewhere ahead, a ruru called, and the faint anxiety that came from trying to decide where to sleep for the night eased. Jessalyn headed in the direction of the cries of the owl.

  Morepork. Morepork.

  She stopped in front of a lot that bore a rusted warehouse. The long grass and weeds around the building gave it a dilapidated appearance. The wire fence enclosing the lot fit right in with the rickety, iron-clad warehouse, although the shiny padlock on the gate told her someone owned the property and was serious in deterring intruders. She hesitated then darted down the side of the fence and squeezed through the first hole she discovered.

  Her heart raced while she froze in her crouch and listened for signs her trespassing had been noticed. Not a dog barked. Not a voice hurled abuse. Instead, the ruru called from its perch high in a totara tree, and its call seemed welcoming.

  Jessalyn found a spot where the grass grew tall enough to conceal her presence. Free from blackberry and other prickly weeds, the area would make a soft bed. She set the alarm on her watch to give herself time to catch the train to her job and made herself comfortable.

  Restless, Manu tossed and turned on his narrow bed. After his long flight the previous night and the test flight for a newer version of his stealth gadget today, he should’ve fallen asleep. He stood and walked to the tiny kitchenette where he had the basics. Hot food, courtesy of an old microwave, a kettle, a fridge to keep milk and beer cold and a sink. A window above the sink allowed him to look over the rear of his property at the totara trees and the unkempt grass. The grass and weeds out the front were just as bad, but he’d found the neglected appearance kept away visitors.

  He poured himself a glass of water and scanned the trees, wondering if he’d spot the ruru again. About to turn away, he glimpsed a spark of light in the long grass. As he stared at it, confused as to what it was, the bright spot grew larger.

  Fire!

  Manu raced outside via a side door, heedless of his nudity. With the lack of rain, if that fire spread, he might lose his warehouse. Damn. He could hardly beat out the flames with his hands. He sprinted back inside and grabbed a fire extinguisher. By the time he returned with the extinguisher in hand, the flames had spread.

  He skidded to a halt as he noticed a woman, cursing and swearing as she thumped the flames with… Was that a T-shirt?

  “Get out of my way,” Manu snarled and pulled the pin on the extinguisher. He aimed at the base of the fire, terror racing through him. If this didn’t work, he might lose everything.

  The foam doused the flames and for a while, he thought he’d win, but the breeze picked up, breathing new life into the blaze.

  Once the contents of the extinguisher finished, he cast it aside and raced for the hose.

  “Make yourself useful,” he ordered. “There are old sacks inside the door. Grab a pile and help me put out this fire.”

  Probably wasting his breath. He didn’t bother waiting to see if the woman obeyed but turned on the water and ran out the hose. It was too
short, but he aimed the flow at the surrounding grass. To his relief, the water doused some of the flames, and he relaxed once he realized he’d halted the spread.

  The woman appeared, her black hair blowing around her face and obscuring her features. A stranger. What the hell did she think she was doing trespassing on his property? Hadn’t the padlock told her he didn’t welcome visitors?

  She attacked the flames with the sacking while he continued to flood the area with water. Finally, the fire vanished and only charred grass and the delicate green fragrance coming from the woman remained.

  Manu shook himself. What the hell? He stomped back to his warehouse, dragging the hose with him. After turning off the water, he coiled the hose, leaving it tidy for next time, and switched on the outer lights. He wanted illumination while he interrogated his intruder.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted the woman’s stealthy retreat. “Where the hell are you going?”

  For an instant, she froze then she bolted, darting toward a hole in his fence. Obviously, the spot where she’d entered his property. Manu sprinted after her and grabbed one kicking leg before she squeezed free. Fear and desperation gave her strength, but he was even more determined. He hauled her back and dragged her closer to his warehouse. She kicked but didn’t shout or screech in the usual feminine manner. She didn’t speak at all, just renewed her struggle.

  Manu grasped both of her arms and shook her a little. “Stop fighting.”

  “You’re naked.” Her gaze darted down his torso, lingered on his groin and skittered away with the speed of a frightened rabbit. Beneath her dark brows, her brown eyes were rounds while her brown skin hinted at a combination of European and Maori ancestry. She stood tall, perhaps six inches less than his six-four height, and she was solid. Muscular rather than fat. The baggy jeans and burned T-shirt she’d donned didn’t do her justice. Through the burn holes in the cotton, he glimpsed a flat stomach and her breasts pushed against the fabric, hinting at their fullness.

  Startled by the burst of heat in him, he sucked in a deep inhalation. A huge mistake. Her fresh green scent filled his lungs and stirred his taniwha from his usual sulk.

  “Why are you on my property?”

  “I wanted somewhere to sleep.”

  Truth.

  “Why did you set the fire?”

  “I didn’t!”

  This time her words held a crisp edge. Lie.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call the cops.”

  Her brown eyes widened. “No. Please don’t do that. I—”

  “Stop. If you’re going to tell me you’ll do anything in exchange for me turning a blind eye to this, don’t go any further.” He froze as her gaze slid to his groin again and cursed inwardly as his cock filled and lengthened.

  He shoved her away but pinned her with a glower when she gathered herself to run in another escape attempt.

  “Don’t,” he warned in a harsh growl.

  “I-I’m not running. I’m gonna be sick.” She made a hoarse sound from deep in her throat and lurched to the right.

  Manu glanced away, wanting to give her the illusion of privacy while every one of his senses focused on her. Instead of a vomit and stomach acid stench, ash, charcoal, and smoke filled his nostrils. His gaze whipped back to her, and he cursed. He grabbed one of the unused sacks he hadn’t returned to his warehouse and beat at the flames that licked over the flattened grass. The woman made a croaking sound and spat another line of sparks. At least this one was on a patch damp from his firefighting efforts and the dry stalks sizzled but didn’t catch.

  Now, he watched her closely, and despite the soot and burned grass, he kept catching whiffs of her personal scent. It reminded him of standing in a patch of native bush, and he dragged her perfume deeper into his lungs. Underlying the fresh green was a hint of flowers and honey.

  Nectar, his taniwha supplied helpfully. I like it.

  Every muscle in Manu’s body locked, his mind snapping and popping, so great was his shock. Beneath his tenseness, his beast quivered like an unruly puppy ready to break his master’s order to stay. Manu swallowed hard and cautiously sniffed. This time, he groaned faintly as he dragged in her scent. Crap on a stick. He closed his eyes as she barked out another croak. Once she stopped, he beat out the new fire.

  “What is your name?” Manu understood his taniwha’s stupid giddiness and excitement while he—the man—trembled as if he balanced on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move and he’d free-fall. “Name.”

  She wiped her mouth and met his gaze with trepidation. “I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

  “Name.”

  “Jessalyn McKenzie.”

  “Finished?”

  She hesitated before releasing the tension in her shoulders.

  Manu held out his hand, and caution slipped over her face before she grasped his fingers. He hauled her to her feet, so rattled by her scent and appearance, he forgot to temper his strength. She bounced against his chest. Jessalyn grunted at the impact, and he steadied her with hands at her hips. A mistake because now her enticing scent flowed through his lungs. His mind groped to understand while his taniwha thumped out a victory haka.

  This stranger… Jessalyn McKenzie was his mate. This woman was the one nature had determined his perfect match. He eased his grip on her hips and ignored her gasp and his swelling dick.

  “How long have you been breathing fire?”

  She blinked once, her dark lashes screening her brown eyes. Her swallow was audible, and anxiety shrouded her like the traditional feather cloak handed down through the generations in his family.

  “Tell me.” He snapped out the words, and she jumped.

  His taniwha stirred beneath Manu’s skin, and it was easy to discern his displeasure. He was scaring their mate.

  “S-six weeks.”

  “The fires in the Domain?”

  She gulped, her gaze darting to the battered runners on her feet. “Yes.”

  “Do you enjoy lighting fires?”

  “No!” Her gaze snapped to him, and she tried to yank free. “Enjoy this? I have no control and that’s scary. There’s something wrong with me, and it’s not the kind of thing I can consult about with a doctor. They’d lock me up.”

  Manu frowned. He’d watched her poor control, but he’d assumed he’d scared her or made her nervous. But her lack of finesse was a problem. It was a matter of time before the cops caught her. He’d seen and listened to the media coverage—the speculation of a firebug lighting fires in the Domain. The press had interviewed several of the homeless people who slept rough in the nearby bush. He’d witnessed the glow of fires during his flight the previous evening.

  An insidious thought crept through his brain, and his hands tightened at her hips. It had become obvious to him, she didn’t know why she was breathing fire. And her control. She had none. She was a danger—to property, to herself, to the taniwha people.

  Jessalyn McKenzie might be the woman destined as his mate, but if she didn’t exert control on her taniwha, his people would fear for their safety and bay for her blood. He’d have no option but to execute her.

  4 – Captured

  The determination and hint of regret in the man’s eyes scared her breathless. Jessalyn twisted her body, desperate to put space between them, so conscious was she of his naked state. The man was all muscle and grace, his shaggy black hair too long. He was taller than her, and his features settled into fierce and watchful, his eyes bulging and bringing to mind a Maori warrior. His brown eyes held an inner fire that was a little scary if she was honest.

  “Come inside,” he said, his husky voice causing gooseflesh to ripple over her skin. Something inside her, a small part of her weird mind, liked this man, approved of him despite the fact he was naked and sported an erection. While she was trying not to peek, it was difficult when the thing poked her every time he yanked her at the hips.

  “You’re a stranger.” And he knew she’d breathed fire. What was he thinking?
She couldn’t read him. This time she allowed her gaze to drift past his muscled chest, over his rippling abs to strike his cock.

  At least she’d been smart enough to give him a false surname. The name of her favorite All Black rugby player had popped into her mind and she’d told the scary man without a blink.

  Go her.

  He laughed, the humor shifting his face from scary to sexy and charming. Then, he went impassive. “Inside. I’m not giving you an option. You can take a shower, and I’ll find you a change of clothes.”

  Despite her trepidation, Jessalyn puffed out a breath and made direct eye contact to indicate acquiescence. He hadn’t pounced, apart from when she’d run. He hadn’t forced her to kiss or touch him. And he didn’t give off the creep factor like the two men at the Onehunga flat.

  Her fingers tingled, and she curled them to a fist to halt her treacherous urge to run them over his chest. She wanted—needed—to test his pectoral muscles and learn if his flesh was as hard and unforgiving as she expected. The urge—the craving left her knees weak, and they almost buckled when he released her and strode to a side door.

  Given the opportunity to ogle, she stared with laser focus. Tight buttocks. Long legs. A tattoo of a dragon on his back. A fierce dragon holding a sword. She studied the lines, and as he stepped inside the door, she blinked. The dragon tattoo had not moved. It had not craned its elegant neck to better see her.

  Curiosity had her straightening the daypack on her shoulders and following him. Whoever he was, because he hadn’t told her his name when he’d demanded hers. She stepped inside the warehouse and a gasp escaped. The interior did not match the rusty exterior since it was sleek and modern and so neat she glanced down at her grubby shoes in trepidation. Her brain ticked over as she crept after him.

  “If you’re intending to knock me out and rob me, you should know I’m fast and much stronger than you,” he said.

  “Also bigheaded with eyes at the back of your head,” she snapped.

  He laughed and opened a cupboard. The dragon in his tattoo beamed toothy joy, his grip on the sword relaxing and making him wobble. Frowning, she refocused and shook her head. What the devil was wrong with her? Not only had she breathed fire, but her mind was conjuring impossible scenarios.