Heart of the Dragon a-1 Read online

  The table was placed in front of Alex. Hands now free, the guard who'd been holding it strode to Teira and clasped her firmly by the forearm. She didn't protest as he wrenched her to her feet. She merely gazed over at Alex, silently pleading with him to help her.

  "Time for you to be by yourself for a while, sweetheart," the man told her.

  Whether she worked for or against these people, Alex realized her fear was real. "Leave her alone," he said. He latched on to her other arm, making her the rope in a vicious tug of war.

  One of the guards scowled and stalked to him. Something was slammed into Alex's temple. His vision blurred. His knees buckled, and he went down. Hard. Teira cried out, tried to reach him, and Alex watched in growing horror as she was slapped across the face. Her head whipped to the side, and he caught the sight of blood on her lip.

  Fury consumed him. Hot, blinding fury, giving him strength where he should have had none. With a roar, he sprang up and tackled Teira's tormentor. All three men flew at him, and he found himself subdued and pinned, helpless once again.

  "Alex," Teira cried.

  Get up , his mind screamed. Help her . As he pushed to his feet, someone grabbed his arm. He experienced a sharp sting as a needle was shoved into his vein. Familiar warmth invaded him, calming, relaxing. The ache in his bones faded. His dry mouth flooded with moisture. When he was released, he sank to the ground, the will to fight completely deserting him.

  Teira was dragged away.

  He closed his eyes and let his mind float away to nothingness. Footsteps echoed in his ears, tapering to quiet as the rest of the men vacated the room. A new set of footsteps suddenly sounded, these coming closer and closer to him.

  "Enjoying the woman, are you?" a man asked, his voice familiar.

  Alex fought past the fog webbing his brain and blinked up. Hazel eyes peered down at him, the same hazel eyes that belonged to his boss, Jason Graves. Jason wore an aura of self-importance that was almost palpable. He also wore a dragon medallion around his neck.

  Alex's eyes narrowed. He'd never considered the man a friend, but he'd been a dependable employer for the four years he'd worked for him. Betrayal washed over Alex, bitter and biting, as he realized just what this meant.

  He'd suspected this, but having actual evidence still managed to shock him. I never should have stolen the medallion , he thought.

  "I'm nothing if not hospitable," Jason said. His eyes gleamed bright with smug superiority.

  Shards of his fury renewed, sparking past the complacency of the drugs. If only his body had the strength to act. "What are you doing to Teira?" He shuddered at the answer that leapt into his mind, certain now that she wasn't working with anyone, but was merely trying to survive. Just as he was.

  "Nothing she doesn't enjoy, I assure you."

  "Bring her back," he growled. "Now."

  "First, you and I are going to have a tête-à-tête."

  The extent of his helplessness shone as brightly as a neon sign. He closed his eyes. "What is it exactly that you want from me, Jason?"

  "Call me Master," his boss said. "Everyone here does." He claimed the chair that had been set in front of the table and removed the lid from the platter of food.

  The scent of spicy meat and fresh fruits wafted in the air, making Alex's mouth water. This wasn't the bread and cheese he'd expected. But then, the meal wasn't for him. How long since he'd last eaten anything that smelled so divine? he wondered. Then he laughed. What did he care? "How about I call you Bastard instead?" he said.

  "Do it and I will have you strangled with your own intestines," Jason said easily, almost happily. "Afterward, I'll have the same done to Teira."

  "Master it is, then." Bastard . Wincing, he pulled himself to a sitting position and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Jason swirled his fork in what looked to be pasta and said, "You have been stubborn, Alex, holding out on us."

  A prickle of unease worked through him, and he fought to remain expressionless. "What do you mean?"

  "Your sister, Grace." Casually Jason bit into his food. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. "The picture you have of her on your desk is of a ten-year-old girl."

  Alex's unease quickly mutated into terror, and the cold air seeped all the way into his marrow. "So what," he said, striving for nonchalance.

  "A voluptuous, very mature Grace was found looking for you in the jungle. She's pretty, your sister." Jason licked creamy white sauce from the fork.

  Alex tried to spring up, tried to wrap his hands around Jason's neck. His body refused to cooperate, however, and in midair, he simply collapsed back into a heap on the floor. "Where is she?" he panted. "Did you hurt her? Did you do anything to her?"

  "Of course not." Jason's tone actually held an element of affront. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

  "You really don't want me to answer that, do you?" He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Where is she?"

  "Don't worry. We let her fly back to New York. She's safe-for the moment. We left her an e-mail from you, saying you were okay, and for her sake, I hope she's content with that."

  His jaw clenched. "Leave her the hell alone."

  "That depends on you, doesn't it?" Jason placed his elbows on the table and leaned toward him. "Where's my medallion, Alex?" he asked, his voice growing harder, harsher.

  "I told your men, I lost it. I don't know where it is."

  "I think that's a lie," Jason said smoothly. He held a pineapple slice between his fingers and sunk his teeth into it, causing the juices to run down his chin. He dabbed at the wetness with his napkin, mimicking a proper Southern gentleman-the kind of man he'd often teased Alex of being.

  "What do you want it for, anyway? You already have a new one."

  "I want them all."

  "Why? They aren't crafted from gold or silver. They're crafted from metal filigree. They're a worthless decoration, nothing more."

  They both knew he lied.

  Jason shrugged. "They offer the wearer power beyond comprehension, though we haven't yet learned how to harness that power. In time," he said with confidence. "In time. They also open every door in this palace, offering a banquet of riches. You could have been a part of this… I would have asked for your help eventually, but you chose to work against me."

  "You think you can just blithely steal from these people and walk away unscathed?" He snorted. "They are children of the gods. I, at least, meant only to study them."

  "No, you meant to expose them. Did you think that would have done them any good? Did you think the entire world could resist coming here and stealing the overabundance of treasures?" Now Jason was the one to snort. "To answer your question, no, I didn't think I could blithely steal from them. I knew I could. Quite easily, too."

  Alex shook his head at such blatant arrogance. "I suppose you're going to tell me just how you did it. We can have ourselves a Bad Guy Confession Time."

  A hard glint entered Jason's eyes, but his need to brag far surpassed his anger. "Before entering the portal in Florida, I tossed in enough fentanyl gas to put a legion of men to sleep. Then I sent in my troops. Most were killed, but casualties of war are expected. The Guardian of the Mist might have been strong, but he couldn't survive multiple rounds of firepower and he quickly bled out."

  "What about his men? The Book of Ra-Dracus speaks of each Guardian possessing an army of dragons inside his palace."

  "Ah, the Book of Ra-Dracus ." All arrogance, Jason lifted a jeweled goblet and sipped the contents. "Have I thanked you yet for the book's acquisition? It changed my life."

  "You stole it from me," he accused, his eyes narrowed.

  "Of course. Just like you stole from me. The irony is beautiful, isn't it?" Smiling smugly, Jason added, "You made the mistake of typing your notes into your computer. I keep tabs on all of my employees."

  "You hack into their personal lives, you mean."

  Jason shrugged "When I realized exactly what you possessed, I knew I had to hav
e it. So I paid someone to 'acquire' it for me."

  "I stole the medallion from you, yes, but I always intended to give it back. I didn't think you even knew what it was."

  "Oh, I knew." A soft rumble of laughter escaped. "I'm slowly emptying this palace of every jewel, every piece of gold, every fine fabric and selling them on the surface. How else do you think I afforded those new buildings? My designer clothes?" He paused, tilted his chin. "And I'll do the same to the other dragon palace. But we digress. How did we kill the dragon army? The same way we found them. Ra-Dracus . We learned they are weakened by cold and bullets. Quick. Simple."

  "You're a monster," Alex whispered, horrified by what Jason had done-and all he would do.

  "A monster? Hardly. Those that dwell in Atlantis are the monsters. In fact, let me tell you a little about Teira, the sweet Teira you so wish to protect. She's a dragon. A changeling." He studied Alex's waning color and nodded with satisfaction. "I see you know what I am talking about."

  "I read Ra-Dracus in its entirety."

  "Then you know what happens when you infuriate a dragon? It transforms into a beast. A killer."

  "If Teira is a dragon, why hasn't she changed? Why hasn't she freed herself?" He paused. "Why hasn't she killed you ?"

  "She has seen what our guns did to her people, and she fears us. Fear will keep the fiercest of creatures submissive."

  "Or maybe that's why you keep it so cold in here. To keep her weak."

  Eyes narrowed, Jason said, "Dragons can go days, weeks without food. Then, suddenly, an intense craving comes over them. Do you know what they eat when this craving comes upon them, Alex?"

  He swallowed. He didn't know, but he could guess.

  "They eat whatever is in sight," Jason answered, leaning back in his chair. "And do you know what Teira will crave when the hunger hits her? You, Alex. You. She won't have to change to dragon form. She'll just start biting."

  A wave of dizziness hit him as he shook his head in denial. "She wouldn't hurt me." He didn't know when he'd started to think of Teira as his ally. He didn't know when he'd lost his animosity toward her. He only knew that hers was the only kindness he'd known these last weeks.

  "You sound so confident. So stupid." Jason laughed. "I know the nature of the beast, and I know beyond a doubt that when the time comes, she will feast on your body because you will be the only food in sight. She may not want to, she may hate herself for it, but she will do it."

  "Why are you doing this? Why go to all this trouble? Kill me already and get it over with."

  "Tell me where the medallion is, and I'll let you go. We'll forget this ever happened."

  Liar , he almost shouted. Unless Jason meant to let him go with his head detached from his body.

  Lethargy began to weave through the dizziness, and he closed his eyes. "I don't know where it is," he said. His voice sounded far away, lost.

  "Need I remind you that I'm not above using your mother? Your aunt? Your sister? Patrick, one of the men who found Grace, would like nothing more than to spread her legs before he kills her."

  Alex couldn't manage to open his lids; they were simply too heavy. He said weakly, "If anyone touches a single member of my family, I will-"

  "You will what?" Jason said mockingly.

  He didn't respond. There was no threat great enough… and there was nothing he could actually do. Not here, not now, and not while the drugs crawled through his system. Not while his body suffered from blood loss. Sleep, he just wanted to sleep.

  "We've searched your home, Grace's home and even your mother's home. No one's been hurt yet. That can all change in an instant, Alex. I'm running out of patience." Jason pushed to his feet and walked around the table. He knelt in front of Alex. He gripped his hair and forced his head back, forced him to stare up into his eyes. "Do you understand?"

  "Yes," he whispered hoarsely.

  "You're pathetic."

  His hair was released, but he didn't have the neck strength to keep his head from slamming into the ground. He rolled onto his side and knew nothing more.

  How long passed before the sweet fragrance of seawater invaded his senses, he couldn't fathom a guess. But when he opened his eyes, Teira was curled beside him, sleeping peacefully. Instinctively he jerked away as Jason's words flitted through his mind. She won't need to change into dragon form, she'll just start biting .

  Teira's pale lashes fluttered open, and the corners of her lips gifted him with a sleepy smile-a smile that did odd things to his stomach.

  She studied his expression, and her smile slowly faded. "What wrong?"

  As he studied her in return, he lost his trepidation. A bruise marred her cheek, barely visible under the dirt covering her. "Nothing's wrong," he said, his throat scratchy. Still a bit groggy, he reached out and gently caressed the discoloration.

  "You look in pain," she said.

  "How long did I sleep?" he asked.

  She shrugged.

  His fingers moved from her cheek and cupped her jaw. "What did they do to you?"

  "They not hurt me," she assured him. "I think they fear I hurt them."

  He chuckled, a low rumble that reverberated in his chest. She looked so delicate, it was hard to imagine her as a fearsome dragon.

  "How you feel?" Concern glinted in her golden eyes. She placed her hand over his heartbeat.

  "Better." Much better now that she was here. But the shakes would come again, he knew, and so would the need. "Teira." He sighed. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you." Born to a staunchly Southern father, he was ashamed of his behavior toward her. He might live in New York, but like every gentleman, he still opened car doors, still paid for meals and still called women when he said he would. Not that the ones he dated expected it. "I thought you worked for them, but that's no excuse."

  Her gaze skittered shyly away from him. "I like being with you."

  Her confession pleased him, warmed him as surely as a winter coat. She wasn't his type, but he was attracted to her all the same. A powerful attraction he couldn't hide anymore. Didn't want to hide anymore. "I like being with you, too," he admitted. He liked her more than he should.

  Leaning up, hesitant, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. He knew she meant it as a chaste peck, a swift kiss of solace, but he pried her lips open with his own and swept his tongue deep. At first, she stiffened. But when she relaxed, she went wild in his arms. She came alive, plunging her tongue into his mouth, moaning her demands, fisting her hands in his hair and fueling his own response.

  The air around them sizzled and that sizzle simmered in his blood. Her body pressed to his, her lithe curves a perfect fit. He'd gladly sprint to his death if only to die with her taste in his mouth. He reveled in her flavor, sweet and guileless, like the purest ocean, and unlike any female he'd ever tasted.

  With a groan, he gripped her by the waist, clenching the fabric of her sheer gown in his hands. He settled her on top of him. He didn't care if cameras watched them. He didn't care that she was wrong for him. His need for her was too great. He deepened the kiss, exploring more of her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth. He allowed his fingers to trace a path down her spine, allowed them to cup her bottom and anchor her snugly against his growing erection.

  She gasped his name, and the moment she did, she seemed to snap out of her haste. She tore her face from him. Their gazes locked, all hot and needy; their ragged exhalations blended. He fought the urge to tug her back down.

  "Alex?" she said on a fragile catch of breath.

  His hands shook as he smoothed pale strands of hair out of her face. "Yes, Teira." God, yes. His voice sounded slow and slurred, yet it had nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the woman in his arms. His need for her surpassed any he'd ever known.

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and he watched as its plumpness tugged free. His shaft jerked in response. Then she leaned down, placing her lips next to his ear. "I can take us to freedom."

  He paused, absorbing her words.
"How?" he whispered fiercely, his arms tightening around her.

  The corners of her lips turned up in a wry grin. "I stole a medallion."

  Alex's smile matched hers. He laughed. They just might be able to escape. Which meant he could feed this woman real food-then spend the next few days with her in bed.

  CHAPTER 14

  Darius gazed at the sights around him.

  Buildings towered as far as the eye could see, stretching toward the skyline-a skyline that was wide and open, cloudy, not filled with crystal and water. Colors, so many colors. They glowed from signs; they blurred together as masses of people strode past him. Even the sun shone brightly of yellow, orange and gold. What struck him most of all, however, was the multitude of scents that intermingled and cloyed the air.

  The overload to his senses was strangely welcoming.

  This place did not offer the lush, green foliage of his home, yet New York was beguiling and lovely in its own right. A place that called out to the beast within him-just as Grace did.

  When this was over, he would-No, he could not think that way. He could not allow himself to envision Grace in his future. He must finish this.

  Some of his men were surrounding Javar's palace, preventing the humans from spreading their violence further. Still… his fists clenched. The fact that they lived offended him.

  And he did not like to be offended.

  Beside him, Grace skirted around a table overflowing with photos. "We'll be there soon," she said, glancing up at him. "Are you okay? You look pale."

  She had changed into new clothing after her bath. She looked edible. Pale blue pants clung to her legs and a sea-green shirt molded itself to her breasts. She was like an ocean wave, utterly captivating. He could have drowned in her and died happy. "Do not concern yourself with me."

  "You could whisk us to Argonauts and save us the walk," she said. "I'm anxious to question them again."

  Darius, too, was anxious to question them, but he couldn't whisk about in this city. To do so, he had to visualize his target. He knew nothing of this area, he thought, letting his gaze scan. A trickle of sweat dripped into his eyes, and he wiped it away.