Iron (Rent-a-Dragon #2)

Funny name. Was there such a thing as “dishonest” auto repair?

Today Magnus was wearing a new pair of jeans along with a sturdy work shirt that citrine had picked out for him. He was driving the car he’d been speeding along the highway in when he’d first run into Lindy. Not just to hopefully remind her, but also because it was the nicest one in terms of both looks and performance.

If this was his opportunity to impress his mate, he wasn’t going to blow it doing what Liam did and driving up in a beat-up old truck.

He parked on the street and came up to the front door of the place, noting Lindy inside at the front desk through the large glass windows. Inside, there were a few old chairs, presumably for people to wait, and old posters advertising car products lining the walls.

The door opened to the sound of tinkling bells, and Lindy looked up at once, noticing him at the entrance. Today she was wearing a button-up shirt with her name on one pocket, and her hair was in a neat ponytail, minus the cap he’d seen her in before.

“Good to see you came on time. Nothing bugs me more than people who are late,” Lindy said, pushing herself off the desk and away from whatever it was she’d been looking at and walking to a side door. Magnus couldn’t help noticing the jeans she was wearing and the shape of her ass, though he looked away quickly, hoping she didn’t see.

“I’ll show you around, get you acquainted with the guys, see where we can have you start,” she said, appraising him as he went first through the door.

Inside, the smell of motor oil and chemicals permeated the air, and the buzzing sound of hydraulics and power tools resonated through the garage. As Lindy walked through he followed, taking stock of everything and feeling fairly amazed at the sheer amount of equipment in the place, despite the fact that much of it looked very old and likely in need of replacement.

Back at the mansion, he had a decent setup for getting the basics done. But a lot of his work he had to do by hand and through sheer strength, whereas a lot of these tools probably helped humans do things they wouldn’t be able to normally do.

Inside, there were two men, each working on a separate project. As Lindy approached them, Magnus behind her, they stopped what they were doing and looked up from their work.

“Magnus, I’d like to introduce you to my employees, Mike and Tommy,” she said, pointing to each. “There was a third, Bill, but he recently retired. Which is why we need another pair of hands around until I can find a proper replacement. Guys, this is Magnus.”

Mike, a medium-height, stocky guy with extremely short-shaven brown hair waved cordially, then went back to unscrewing bolts on the wheel of the car he was working on. The other guy, Tommy, a taller, skinnier kid who was probably in his twenties but looked like he could be nineteen, just nodded in acknowledgment.

All around them parts were strewn on tables, shelves were packed to capacity, and small pieces and knobs and nuts were hiding in corners where they’d been swept out of the main walking area.

It reminded Magnus of his workshop ages ago.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the rest of the place,” Lindy said, snapping Magnus from his reverie.

She made a turn through an adjoining doorway that led into a back room, this one with a single, large garage door and space for several cars. These looked as if they had more serious work to be done on them, with popped hoods or doors and side panels missing.

“So the website said you’re experienced with cars. Could you elaborate?” she asked, stopping and turning to him, resting back on a shelf. In here, the noise from the main garage was muffled by walls, and it was nice to not have to talk over pneumatic drills.

“I’d say I more or less know everything.”

Lindy barked out a laugh, which she tried to stifle by putting her hand over her mouth.

“No really, just ask me and I’ve probably done it on one of my cars back home.”

At Magnus’s insistence, Lindy just raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? That’s actually pretty surprising, especially given what I’m supposed to pay you. Which is still kinda vague, frankly. I hardly expected you to be able to do an oil change,” she said, veiled astonishment in her voice.

“Oh, you better believe I do a mean oil change. But I can rebuild an engine, too. Or swap out a transmission. You name it.”

“Well, good to know. I’ll have to see you do it before I fully believe it, but I’m sure the guys will be more than glad to have you around.”

Magnus frankly didn’t care what the other men thought. He cared what his mate thought.

And even in the dingy light from the hanging bulbs, her pretty blue eyes shone like tiny glaciers illuminated by the rising sun.

There was a knock on the door, and Tommy poked his head through.

“Hey, Lindy, could you grab the epoxy for me? It’s up on that shelf,” he asked, pointing upward to the top of a nearby shelf.

Lindy shrugged, annoyed. But when Tommy insisted again, she pulled out a wooden stepladder that had been sitting next to her and stepped up to grab a small can of the supposed material, pulling herself up on the ledge of the shelf to grab it.

It wasn’t until Magnus heard a tiny creak that an alarm bell went off inside his head.

He’d worked with wood enough times to know what it sounded like when it gave.

“This one?” Lindy asked, pointing to the can.

A second creak sounded, and Magnus sprang from where he’d been standing toward Lindy, catching her around the waist as the shelf caved in with a large crack, followed by a cascade of cans and buckets and metal parts flying everywhere.

With no time to completely clear the miniature metal avalanche, Magnus placed himself between the wall and Lindy, shielding her as dozens of objects of varying size and weight beat down on his head and back and arms. Everywhere, a symphony of metallic bangs and clangs pummeled the floor as they hit him, then dropped to the ground.

Ouch.

Worth it.

Once the last can bounced off the ground, awkwardly tardy compared to the rest of the shelf’s contents, he let go of Lindy, regretful he couldn’t hold her closer, but not wanting to come off as a creep. She pushed off him, shock and worry in her blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking him over.

“No, really, I’m fine,” he said, waving her off. With his dragon skin, he wouldn’t have any lasting damage, but some of those objects could have killed a human.

He was just glad he’d sheltered her before disaster struck.

Just then, Tommy rushed up as well.

“Lindy, are you hurt?

“I’m good, thanks to Magnus here,” Lindy said as she looked at the contents strewn about the floor. Her expression turned from astonishment to anger in a second as she took it all in.

Terry Bolryder's books