Vanity Affair: Dragon Sin #2 (Dragon Shifter Romance)

By Mac Flynn

Adventure and romance lead Caitlin and Company into a lot of fantastical trouble when they fall into the business of the upper class in the city of Tras. Rumors have spread about a terrible affliction affecting only the wealthiest of the women, and one of them has hired the pair to find the source of the disease in order to cure them.

To add to their troubles, some of Asher's 'men,' those youngsters of the streets in his employ as his eyes and ears, have gone missing. Their friends and family plead with him to find them, and the trail leads them to the Angel Gates. The angels guard the numerous entrances to the catacombs of the ancient city where people go in, but they don't come out.

Their paths intertwine through forests and manor estates, and across the rugged roads of the grand city as they search for answers to their elusive questions. Along the way Cait finds herself growing closer to Asher, but shes' reluctant to admit her feelings, even to herself. Will she find him returning her love, or will her hopes turn out to be another fantasy in this strange new world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9791220877299

Mac Flynn

A seductress of sensual words and a lover of paranormal plots, Flynn enjoys writing thrilling paranormal stories filled with naughty fun and hilarious hijinks. She is the author of numerous paranormal series that weave suspense, adventure and a good joke into a one-of-a-kind experience that readers are guaranteed to enjoy. From long adventure novels to tasty little short-story treats, there's a size and adventure for everyone.Want to know when her next series comes out? Join The Flynn newsletter and be the first to know! macflynn.com/newsletter/Also check out her website at macflynn.com for listings and excerpts of all of her books!

Book preview

1

Iknew this world would sweep me off my feet, I just didn't know it would happen before breakfast.

The sweet songs of birds awakened me from a long slumber. I sat up and stretched my arms above my head as I admired my new room. It had only been a week, but I could already call this little domain mine, what with the overflowing dresser drawers full of new clothes and the beautiful purple quilt that covered the bed which I had picked out myself.

Not that the quilt was needed. Like every other morning, a fresh fire burned brightly in the hearth and the room was warm, but comfortable. On the nightstand, too, stood a new bouquet of flowers, courtesy of my kind and handsome host, Asher. Their sweet aromas permeated the room, and I breathed in their scent with a smile.

I slid out of bed and walked over to the terrace window. The pajamas I wore were my ones from my old world, reminders of where I'd come from and more discreet than a flimsy nightdress.

I opened the terrace doors and stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked a small alley. The view in front wasn't great, but the view to my right showed off the vast port that fed and clothed the city. The sun was still freshly awakened, but fishing boats glistened on the shimmering waters a few miles out at sea. The clatter of hooves and murmurs of voices told me the city was already up and about. Another fit of stretching my arms made me yawn. A swooshing noise broke the monotony, and my peaceful morning.

The next moment I felt something grab my hand and lift me off the ground. I yelped and flailed about. A cackle made me look up. A witch, complete with long, pointed nose and a mole on her cheek, held on to me with one hand while the other grasped the handle of her broomstick. She gave another cackle as she turned a sharp right at the end of the alley and we swooped over the city streets.

Isn't this fun, little one? she cooed before she erupted into more cackles.

Thrilling, now let me down! I insisted as I thrashed and spun in circles. The world turned topsy-turvy as the witch did a loop-da-loop and nearly ran into a light pole. I was glad my stomach was empty as it also did its own flips.

But I've just begun to have fun! the witch gleefully scolded me as we took a left at the next intersection.

I couldn't see Asher's house any longer, and my unfamiliarity with the streets of Tras led to a sudden spike in fear inside me. Let me go! I insisted as I grabbed her gnarled hand and tried to pull myself free. Her thin fingers were stronger than they looked, however, and I couldn't make them budge.

The witch laughed again. Silly girl! Don't you recognize a binding spell when you see one? Oh right! You can't see it! Her poor joke sent her into another fit of laughter.

She wasn't laughing for long when, on passing another large house with balconies, a figure stepped out. The person wore a long dark coat and his short sandy hair fluttered in the light breeze. His green eyes warned of trouble that the witch was too late to see.

She tried to skirt the quick figure, but the man reached out and grabbed a hold of the front of her broomstick. He gave a great yank and pointed the broom downward where it struck the floor of the balcony and broke in half. The witch was propelled forward, and I with her until the man grabbed our joined hands and wrenched my free. With a final screech the witch disappeared over the side.

I landed in a heap into the arms of my savior where I looked up into the beautiful emerald eyes of Asher and sheepishly smiled at him. Um, good morning.

He grinned. You didn't tell me you were going to go out for a ride this early.

I didn't know myself, I returned as I glanced down at the broken broom. Next time I think I'll take a carriage. Then the obvious struck me, and I whipped my head back to my savior. How'd you get here so fast?

Skill, he answered as he kicked the remains of the broom over the side. A clatter followed by a groan told me it had hit its mark. Now let's go inside, the air here is rancid.

He carried me into the home. The balcony led into a luxurious sitting room, and through an open door I glimpsed an equally large bedroom.

A woman stood in front of one of the settee chairs. She wore a long white dress with lace around her cuffs. A bejeweled collar with dazzling diamonds covered her neck. Her hair was pulled up in a bun so tight I wondered if the tension could spring loose and decapitate someone. Fine jewels hung from her ears and a large ring adorned her left middle finger.

My goodness, Lord Nilogh! the woman exclaimed, using Asher's formal title. What a daring rescue! And how well you handled that witch! Shall I call the police?

I think she has learned her lesson, Asher assured her as he set me down on the cushion of the settee couch. He draped his large coat over my shoulders and revealed his own black turtleneck shirt and mid-arm length gloves. Asher knelt in front of me and studied my right hand, the one the witch had held. Good. The spell was broken.

The woman clapped her hands. Bravo, Lord Nilogh! Bravo! Now I know you are the only one who can help me!

If we won't be interrupted, you can begin your story again, Lady Ida, Asher invited her as he took a seat in the remaining settee chair.

Her eyes flickered to me. Are you sure-?

Asher folded his hands together in front of him and smiled at me. You may trust Miss Miller as much as you trust me.

Lady Ida cleared her throat. Yes, well, as I began to tell you, this concerns a certain cream. She gestured to a small, round container that sat in the middle of the rectangular, wooden coffee table. That cream, to be precise.

And what's the problem with it? Asher asked her.

I believe it is turning me to stone.

2

My jaw hit the floor. Stone?

Lady Ida nodded. Yes. As you see here. She drew up one long sleeve of her dress and revealed tiny gray spots that speckled her arm.

Asher's eyes flashed with interest as he leapt to his feet. He strode across the short distance and took her arm in his hands. A brief, tense examination and he looked down at her with pursed lips. Her wide eyes showed her own fear. These are indeed stone spots.

Tears pooled in her eyes and she hung her head. I. . .I thought as much.

My inquisitive expression caught Asher's eye, who lowered the woman's arm back into her lap. It is an old and rare spell of which I have only read of in ancient medical texts. The spell is designed to be slow-acting in order to cause mental and physical suffering for the victim whereby they are slowly changed to stone. He returned his attention to the lady. How did you come to learn about it?

She drew out a handkerchief and pressed it against her nose. I have an old family friend at the University who looked into my symptoms, and that is what he found. She raised her eyes to him and a bitter smile slipped onto her quivering lips. Am I doomed, Lord Nilogh?

He closed his eyes and shook his head. I can't say for certain, not being a hexicus.

Then is there nothing you can do for me? she pleaded.

Asher leaned over and plucked the container from the coffee table. It was flat, only about two inches high, and three inches around. He unscrewed the lid and studied the contents. A distinct odor of lilacs wafted to my nose, but something in that scent tickled my nostrils in a most unpleasant way that made me sneeze.

Lady Ida held out her handkerchief to me as Asher cast a curious in my direction. You may take mine. I looked between the handkerchief and the spots on her arm, and she shook her head. Stone spots isn't transmitted by touch. She paused and looked up at Asher. At least, I believe that is the truth.

He nodded. You're correct. The spell is only attached to this cream, and then transmitted to the one who uses it.

I waved off her offer. I'm fine, it was just a little itching.

Lady Ida tucked the handkerchief back into her pocket and returned her attention to Asher. Then you feel that the spell is attached to the cream, as I feared?

He nodded. I believe so. There's a faint bitter aura in the cream that tells me it's been tampered with by magic. Where did you get this cream?

Lady Ida reached behind her and drew a small paper magazine from the cushion. This was given to me by a dear friend, she told him as she handed him the packet. The advertisements are all for creams that profess to retaining the youth of the user.

That isn't far from the truth if you're turned to stone, Asher mused as he studied the pages. Who is this friend of yours?

Lady Margaret Stein, she informed him as she shook her head. But I cannot imagine her wishing to curse me with such a horrible fate. We have been friends since our school days.

And where did she acquire the paper? he asked her.

She shook her head. I am not quite sure. She mentioned that a man had come to the door with the magazine, but who he was and for whom he worked, she didn't say.

How long ago did she first tell you about the cream? he inquired.

Lady Ida bit her lower lip. I believe it was about two months ago, and my own magazine arrived scarcely a fortnight after she told me about the cream.

Asher turned the magazine over and examined the back where he frowned. This address is certainly false.

Lady Ida's eyes widened. But that's impossible! I sent the money to it, and in return received the cream!

The address written on the back would place the building in the bay, Asher told her as he lifted his eyes to the lady. Obviously any letters addressed to that location would have been intercepted and sent to a real address. That will make this more difficult to track your attacker.

By all the gods, what have I done? Lady Ida whispered to herself and she grasped her shaking hands in her lap. She swallowed a lump in her throat and sat tall in her seat before she met Asher's gaze. My friend at the University was unable to find a cure. Do you perhaps know of one?

Asher furrowed his brow as he returned to his chair. His eyes were fixed on the container that he held up even with his face. Off the top of my head, no, but I have sources I can consult who may know more about this spell than I.

Lady Ida stood and bowed her head to him. I would be most grateful for any help.

Asher followed suit and I hopped to my feet. If you might give me a list of other friends who may have ordered the cream, I would like to see them, as well.

The good lady's face was pale and her words were listless. Of course. I can have the list to you this evening.

Asher tucked the magazine under his arm and grasped one of her hands which he kissed. I'll let you know as soon as I learn something.

Thank you, Lord Nilogh, and may the gods grant you speed in your endeavor, she replied.

Asher bowed his head and released her. He walked around the table and grasped my arm, where he guided me out of the room and down the stairs to the large entrance hall. A servant dressed in white attire waited for us at the front door, but Asher turned and led me down a hall beside the staircase that ran to the back of the house. We let ourselves out onto a back alley replete with all the scents and sights that adorned such filthy places.

So is this part of your medical practice? I guessed as we walked down the alley toward the light at the end.

Among other practices, he confirmed as he looked straight ahead.

I glanced around at our puddled and littered surroundings, and tried not to wrinkle my nose. And do you always have to hide that you've been visiting your clients?

A hint of a smile touched his lips. More often than not. Very few want to admit to their friends that they've been cursed.

And the people at this University know a lot about these things, too? I asked him as he turned us rightward before we reached the end and we wound our way through the back streets to home.

We finally emerged from the filth and I was only mildly surprised to find us back on our street. The University Magicalus is the oldest magic-centered institution in the world. They have a vast library of ancient texts that make their scholars the foremost experts on all magic subjects.

And you never thought to be a professor there? I wondered as we slipped into Asher's house. The building was quiet, but the warmth crackle of a fire in the parlor hearth comforted me as I took off his coat and handed it back to him.

He slipped that on along with a sly smile. I was a student there once, but I found the professors and administration to be rather-

Stuffy? I guessed.

Incurious when it came to the black arts, he corrected me as he adjusted his coat and drew out the magazine. His eyebrows crashed down as he studied the cover. This, unfortunately, falls under that category.

I sidled up to him and looked over the cover. There was a hand-drawn colored sketch of a few cans of the cream, and the words Lasting Life ran across the top. So have you seen this kind of curse scam before?

Asher shook his head. Not quite this elaborate. There have always been those who trick their enemies into receiving cursed objects, but this appears to be for a wide audience. He flipped open the magazine to the first page and wrinkled his nose. Perhaps that isn't quite true.

What part? I wondered as I studied the advertisement. There was another sketch of the cream and a few prices listed in a column.

Asher gestured to the prices, where there was an unfamiliar symbol beside the numbers. The currency in this world works in a hierarchy. This symbol refers to the most expensive items one can buy. These prices would certainly break the funds of an average person.

So they're targeting only rich people? I guessed.

Specifically women, except for those men vain enough to purchase such things, Asher added. A knock on the door gave us pause, and he frowned. He strode to the door and opened it only partially. Derick, to what do I owe the pleasure?

It's not pleasure that brings me here, Gov'nor, the familiar voice of the street rat replied.

Asher's bemusement fled and he stepped to one side while at the same time opening the door wide. Come in.

The bedraggled short figure of the 'gentleman of the streets' walked into the house, but without