Drakon's Past Page 11

  The Knights were power hungry and ruthless. They also weren’t stupid. At least not the ones who were at the top of the food chain. You didn’t survive as a high-ranking member of the Knights of the Dragon by being an idiot.

  Tarrant swore. “You need to get away from that woman and those statues. Let this play out. We’ll get the statues back another time now that we know who has them.”

  Nic knew his brother wasn’t going to be happy with him. “I can’t.”

  Tarrant swore some more. “I won’t fucking tell you her location if she leaves home.”

  “Then I’ll have to risk getting closer and hanging around outside her front door.” He’d do it too, and Tarrant knew it.

  “I’m going to kick your sorry ass if you get captured by the Knights over some woman,” Tarrant promised.

  “I have no plans to get caught.” He’d be stealthy, take out the Knights, and rescue Constance’s sister. “Anything from Dent’s phone?”

  “No. He has it turned off with the battery or SIM card removed, or he’s using a prepaid. I can’t do anything there, but I’m still looking. I’m scanning satellite photos.”

  “I didn’t realize there was a satellite currently taking images of Las Vegas.”

  “There is now.”

  His brother was one scary dude. The Knights had no idea what they’d done when they’d awoken this sleeping giant. Tarrant had been content to run his empire from his underground compound, occasionally coming out to partake in life. But when they’d targeted Darius, and then the woman Tarrant had come to love, the gloves had come off.

  Tarrant was probably the most powerful man in the world that no one knew about. His vast businesses controlled the airwaves and technology. If Tarrant wanted, he could collapse the world economy and bring all the satellites currently circling the Earth to a standstill. Tarrant could also comb through vast amounts of information in a very short time.

  If anyone could find Dent from satellite images, it was his brother.

  “Just don’t get caught.”

  Tarrant sniffed. “Not possible. You stay safe until I find Dent.”

  “Let me know when Constance moves.”

  “You said when, not if.”

  “It will be soon.” Nic knew it in his gut, and his gut was never wrong.

  …

  Constance hated herself right now. She’d hurt a good man. It was her talent that had caused her sister to be kidnapped. She wished she could go back a few days and avoid that estate sale totally. If she had, Abigail would be sewing away in the workroom or out taking pictures, and Mario would be alive.

  And she never would have met Nic.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath. Her body was still tingling from their lovemaking. She tugged at the collar of her shirt and flapped the material back and forth to circulate some air. She now understood the phrase hot and bothered, because she was both of those things.

  She could practically still feel Nic’s hands roaming over her body, his touch igniting fires inside her. The way he’d filled her and moved inside her had been pure joy. She moaned and then shook herself.

  “Get a grip.” She jumped out of her chair and began to pace. Surely, if Dent or his men were watching her place, they’d know Nic had left.

  Her stomach growled, but she didn’t want to eat. Still, she wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. The sight of yogurt containers lined up like soldiers in the slot on the door made her close it again. Abigail was the one who liked yogurt. Constance ate it occasionally because it was good for her, and the fruit-flavored ones weren’t half bad. Her sister loved the stuff.

  She opened every cupboard, peered inside, and shut them again. She just couldn’t make herself eat. The walk from the living room to the workroom was a short one, but she did it over and over until she got dizzy.

  Needing something to do to keep busy, she cleaned up the broken glass. Then she went online and removed all the items for sale that had been damaged by Dent’s men. When that was done, she paced some more.

  What was Dent waiting for?

  She glanced at her watch. Only an hour had passed. She stopped in the living room and glared at the two phones she’d set side by side on the coffee table. Was the darn thing even working? She picked up the black one.

  And almost dropped it when it rang.

  Constance pressed the button to connect the call. “Yes.”

  “Did you do as I requested?” There was a smug quality to Dent’s voice signaling that he knew she had, but he wanted her to admit it. She wasn’t a violent woman, but she really wanted to hurt him.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t giving him any more details than she had to.

  “Get the other statues and bring all four to me.” He gave her an address. She knew it was an area with warehouses, some of them abandoned. She was also suspicious that he hadn’t asked for details.

  “Abigail,” she began.

  “Ah, yes.” The line went silent, and then she almost doubled over with relief when she heard her sister’s voice.

  “Constance.”

  “I’m coming for you, sweetheart. You just do what they say and stay alive.”

  “They’re going to kil—” Her sister was cut off, but Constance wasn’t surprised the plan was to kill them. They knew too much.

  “I trust you’ll be here soon. Any delay could be harmful to your sister.”

  Dent really was a bastard. “I’ll be out of the house in the next few minutes.” She was the one who ended the call this time. She grabbed both phones and shoved them in her bag. She shouldered it and then went to her sister’s bedroom.

  The door was wide open as though someone had taken a quick look earlier, but they’d ignored the shoes and boots lining the floor. She reached down and pulled the statues out of the feet of the boots and added them to her bag. Now she had all four.

  She straightened, and the world began to spin. She sat down hard on the bed. Was it hunger or something more? Now that the statues were together again, they were buzzing with energy. And no matter what anyone else thought, she knew it wasn’t her imagination.

  There was no one around when she locked the front door and hurried to the van. Evening had closed in, which she was grateful for. Less chance Mrs. Karsh would see her leave. At this time of night, the older woman was usually settled in her recliner watching television.

  Still, she closed the van door quietly, started the engine, and pulled away quickly. Constance glanced in the rearview mirror and watched the house getting smaller. She wondered if she’d ever see it again.

  “Think positive.” She gripped the wheel and headed to the location Dent had given her. Being a local, and one who’d been all over the city buying and selling over the years, she knew exactly where she was going.

  Her purse was heavy on her shoulder, but she kept it there. If she had to bail for any reason, she didn’t want to risk not being able to get to her bag. Her sister’s freedom was in there.

  She thought about Nic, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Was he thinking about her, or had he written her off? She wouldn’t blame him. Not after the things she’d said to him.

  It bothered her that after all the trouble Dent had gone through, he hadn’t asked her about Nic’s tattoos.

  There was nothing she could do to change any of it. And she didn’t want to change the part where she’d had sex with Nic. If she was going to die, she’d at least do so without having to wonder what it would be like to have him touch her in such an intimate way.

  “Focus.” Her voice sounded loud and sharp, but it did the job, pulling her back to the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  She pulled up to the locked gate. There was an intercom and a keypad. She rolled down the window and buzzed. No one answered, but there was a click and the gates slowly began to part. As soon as they were wide enough, she drove through. They began to close behind her.

  This was it. There was no going back. Not this tim
e.

  …

  Nic’s phone rang. “Yeah?”

  “She’s on the move.”

  Knowing Tarrant would keep an eye on Constance’s phone, Nic took his time, started his car, and headed toward her street. He turned the corner just in time to see her van disappear.

  Night had fallen, but with his preternatural vision, he could see everything as easily as he could at high noon.

  “Anything on Dent yet?” He already knew the answer, but he just wanted to talk, to keep his mind off what was about to happen.

  “Nothing. Although I’m assuming it will be a quieter part of the city, less likely to have people see something they shouldn’t. They don’t want to rack up the body count. That kind of thing draws attention.”

  “They killed Mario,” he reminded Tarrant.

  “I hacked into the police files. They did a good job of making Mario’s death look like an accident. The cops are already writing it off as a burglary gone wrong. The video surveillance was gone, and I doubt they’ll find any more evidence. The Knights are too damn good at this kind of thing, and the cops are too overworked to push harder.”

  Nic knew Tarrant was right. “Any idea where Constance is heading?” She was still alive, and he planned to keep her that way.

  “I have a couple of likely areas, but it looks as though your girl is going to lead us right to him.” There was sarcasm in Tarrant’s voice, but Nic ignored it.

  He hung back but managed to keep her van in sight. Everything inside him settled when he saw her turn in at a warehouse. “I’ve got her. I’m going to hang up and destroy my phone.”

  “Don’t do that. Put it in your pocket.”

  “But if the Knights somehow manage to capture me, it will lead them to you.” No way was he allowing that to happen. The Knights had all kinds of paid hackers in their employ, just no one as good as Tarrant.

  His brother snorted. “I uploaded a little something extra to your phone.”

  “Did you now?” That was news to him.

  “I had it with Darius using old technology and destroying phones, so I played around a bit. I can fry the memory remotely. Plus, if need be, I can access your cell provider, which would be my company, and destroy any records before anyone can get to them.”

  “Did I mention you’re scary?” Tarrant continually amazed him.

  “Should have done it sooner, but it really wasn’t an issue until the Knights resurfaced a few weeks back. It only took me a few hours to develop once I put my mind to it.”

  “Like I said, scary. I’m signing off now, but I’ll keep my phone with me.” He didn’t say good-bye. He ended the call, turned off the phone, and tucked it in his jeans pocket.

  Nic hadn’t said anything to his brother, but he had a bad feeling about tonight. The last time he’d had this particular sensation was a long, long time ago. That time hadn’t ended very well, either.

  He parked the car a ways away and climbed out. He removed his jacket and set it on the passenger seat before locking the door. Nic looked up at the sky but couldn’t see too many stars with all the lights from the city. Another reason he liked the desert more. A sensation of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the Knights who concerned him. He knew what to expect from them. No, it was Constance.

  She was going to betray him, just as his mother had.

  His mother had thrown him out, and he’d left, a frightened child with no choice in what was happening to him. This time, he was a grown man with a powerful creature living inside him, an integral part of him. But there was still enough of the boy that he wanted to cry to the heavens and demand to know what was so wrong with him that the women he cared for the most kept betraying him.

  Nic took a deep breath and began walking toward the warehouse. As he got closer, he detected the sound of voices. Keeping to the shadows, he went over the fence and crept toward the building.

  Whatever happened, there was no turning back.

  …

  Constance shivered even though the inside of the warehouse was quite warm. Darkness shrouded the cavernous room, giving plenty of places for people to hide. She knew there were men watching her every move. She kept walking forward toward the light in the center of the room. These folks certainly liked their theatrics.

  Her knees were shaking, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten earlier, because if she had, she might have lost it here and now. A bead of sweat rolled down her back. The bag on her shoulder seemed as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

  “Stop right there.”

  She stopped. She recognized the voice from the phone. Jeremiah Dent, the man behind all of this, was only yards away.

  “Do you have the statues?”

  She bit her tongue when she really wanted to tell him that was a stupid question. Of course she had the statues. She reached into her bag and brought them out one by one. She unwrapped the teak one with the sapphire eyes, then the onyx-and-diamond dragon, followed by the bronze one with the rubies. The last one was the statue carved from a single piece of crystal with emeralds for eyes. Like before, she held on to it.

  “Let’s not play this game again.” Dent sounded almost bored. If he didn’t have her sister, she would smash the damn statue.

  “I’m here. The statues are here. Let my sister go.” She didn’t ask for herself. She knew Dent wouldn’t let both of them go.

  “I asked you to do something for me.” He ignored her request, which wasn’t surprising.

  “You did.”

  “Did Mr. Wilde have a tattoo over the entire left half of his body from his neck to his ankle?” There was excitement in Dent’s voice, a sense of anticipation. She wished she knew why Nic’s tattoo was so important to this man.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t test me.” For the first time, she heard real anger and knew Dent’s patience was at its end. Two men stepped out of the shadows, both dressed in black and holding automatic weapons.

  “I’m not.” She wanted to swallow but her mouth was too dry. “He—” She faltered and tried again. “He didn’t take off his jeans.” She refused to be embarrassed by what she’d done. Dent knew nothing of what went on between her and Nic.

  The bastard laughed. “A quickie. I expected more from him.”

  Constance wanted to kick the statues on the floor, but she forced herself to remain still. She ignored the heat on her cheeks. She hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of, not yet. Betraying Nic would bury her in shame, but she’d deal with it. She really didn’t have a choice.

  “What about the rest of him?” Dent asked.

  This was it, the moment of truth. “Where’s Abigail?” If she was going to betray Nic, she had to know there was at least the possibility of rescuing her sister.

  There was a scuffling sound off to the left, and then her sister emerged from the darkness, held tightly by another of those lethal-looking men. Dent had his own private mercenary army from the looks of things.

  Nic was right. These people were dangerous.

  “Well?”

  “Yes, Nic has tattoos down his arm and torso.”

  “I knew it.” Dent stepped into the light, and she blinked. He looked like a college professor and not a man who routinely kidnapped innocent young women and held them at gunpoint. He was about five-nine with a slender build and graying hair. His smile was almost affable. When she looked into his eyes, she saw the madness, the fanaticism that had led to this terrible situation. He also had a gun in his right hand.

  He waved at the statues. “Move the wooden one here.” He pointed out a marked area on the floor. She had no idea what he was doing but followed his instructions. “The crystal one next.”

  By the time she was done, the statues sat at specific points on a rough circle that had been outlined on the floor, with each one being the same distance from the other. Each time she positioned one of the statues, it was as though she’d tripped a power switch on them. And having them placed like this was upping the power expo
nentially.

  They were inanimate objects, created by man. They had no power source, no plug or battery. But there was no denying the energy field swirling around them. Dent seemed enthralled.

  “Beautiful.” He walked the perimeter while she remained in the center of the unseen storm. All the fine hairs on her arms stood on end. Every cell in her body was vibrating.

  “Each statue is on a point of the compass.” Like a scholar teaching a student, he continued his lecture. “The material is unique to each kind of dragon.” He stopped at the small onyx dragon. “North, earth dragon, associated with diamonds.” He moved on to the crystal statue. “Air dragon and emeralds.” Then to the teak one. “Water dragon and sapphires.”

  “Bronze and rubies for what? A fire dragon?”

  “Yes.” He stopped and gave her a patronizing smile. “You don’t believe?”

  “In dragons? No.” What sane person would?

  He rubbed his hands together, his excitement palpable, reminding her of a child about to get a spectacular present. “Oh this is going to be good. Get out your phone, Ms. Owens.”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell. “What now?”

  “Now you call your lover and ask him to join us.”

  Constance heard her sister gasp but ignored her for the moment. Dent was like a deadly snake, and it was best to keep an eye on him. “Why would I do that?”

  Dent chuckled. “Because, my dear, Nicodemus Wilde is a dragon, and you’re going to help me catch him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nic’s blood ran cold as he listened to Dent explaining his plans. He wanted to swoop in and rescue Constance and her sister, but there were too many men, and they were spread out. There was no way to rescue both women before one of them was shot and killed.

  He was also wary of those damn statues. As much as he’d like to dismiss them, he couldn’t. Too many of his fellow drakons had ended up in the clutches of the Knights. No one really knew the numbers. Maybe it was only five or six, maybe it was twenty. Even one was too many. If they caught and held one of his kind, they could feed off him for centuries.

  Now that was an unpleasant thought.