Drakon's Past Page 7

  Fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel, Constance drove home with the crystal statue in her lap. Better to be prepared if something happened. By the time she pulled into the driveway, her nerves were pulled tighter than a guitar string.

  She was ready to snap at any moment.

  Nic was behind her when she entered the house. Thankfully, Mrs. Karsh was nowhere around. She had to be out visiting friends or shopping, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to resist introducing herself to Nic, especially since this was his second visit today.

  Constance found herself sitting on the couch with the statue tucked back inside her bag, not quite sure how she’d gotten there. Even with her sweater on, she was cold. It had nothing to do with the temperature of the house and everything to do with the chill in her soul.

  “I have to get my sister back.” She looked at Nic, willing him to understand. “There’s nothing more important.”

  Nic strode around the room, searching it and occasionally peering out the windows. “We will.”

  She ignored his reassurance. He couldn’t promise her that. No one could. “What are you looking for?”

  “Cameras, bugs.” He shrugged and kept looking.

  Hadn’t she wondered the same thing earlier? “The workroom. If they are anywhere, that’s where they’ll be.” She stumbled to her feet and down the hallway, coming to a halt in the doorway. The place had been wrecked.

  Fabric was strewn everywhere. Constance cried out and would have fallen to her knees if Nic hadn’t caught her. It was like seeing Abigail hurt to see her sister’s precious stock of vintage fabrics tossed around like garbage.

  China and crystal had been smashed onto the floor. The worktable had been upended. Abigail’s sewing machine was in pieces.

  Her gaze flew to the closet. The door was wide open. The safe. She practically ran across the room. The metal door was hanging off its hinges.

  Nic looked around her. “They took a chance and blew the lock. Dent must be getting desperate. Old safes like this are tough. They could have potentially damaged or destroyed anything inside. This took skill.” He peered inside. “Did they get anything?”

  She forced herself to look. Her grandpa’s watch was on the floor, the dial smashed. His cuff links looked as though they’d been crushed beneath someone’s boot heel, and his wedding ring was gone.

  “Constance?” Nic’s tone was sharp.

  “Um, Grandpa’s wedding ring is gone. The other keepsakes we had from him have been destroyed. The folder with our personal papers is here.” She told him the truth. “There wasn’t anything of value in there. I had the statues with me.”

  Nic slowly turned and pinned her with his dark gaze. “There were four statues originally. They think you have more.”

  She shrugged, trying to look confused. She wanted to run to her sister’s room and check on the statues she’d hidden there, but a part of her still didn’t trust Nic. While her instincts were telling her she could, Abigail’s life was too important to risk. “Why would they think that?”

  Nic took a step closer, looming over her. The man certainly could loom. He was big and dark and very scary when he got this intense. “You weren’t surprised by the fact there are more statues.”

  She shook her head. “The man, Dent, mentioned there were more when he first contacted me.” Neither man needed to know she had two more. They were the only bargaining chips she had to keep her sister alive.

  Nic didn’t look as though he was going to back away. She needed something to distract him. She reached under her sweater and shirt. “I did get this at the same time.” She pulled out the necklace. The silver and emeralds sparkled in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

  As if in a trance, Nic reached out a hand and ran his index finger over the metal before touching one of the gems. He swallowed heavily. There was more emotion from him over the necklace than there had been over the statues.

  No, that wasn’t true. The emotions were vastly different but just as intense. The statues made him angry. What she sensed from him now was great sadness.

  “Nic?”

  “Do you have any idea what these are?” His fingers grazed the gemstones, his manner almost reverent.

  “Emeralds.”

  He shook his head. “They’re so much more.”

  She was totally bewildered. “Then what are they?”

  “It was with the statues, wasn’t it?” Looked like he was going to ignore her question. Her brow furrowed. How could he have known she’d found the items together?

  “Yes. They were all in a box in the basement away from the rest of the items for sale.”

  Nic’s gaze sharpened. “Then how did you find them?”

  Great, now he was suspicious of her. “Do you think I’m one of those damn Knights of the Dragon, or whatever it is they call themselves? I find things, okay?”

  “What do you mean, you find things?”

  “It’s a talent. I always seem to know where there is something special hidden in a vintage store, a thrift shop, a garage sale—”

  “Or an estate sale,” he finished for her.

  She nodded. “Yes. Grandpa was the same, although he said I was better at it than him. He also told me to use the talent sparingly. Expensive items usually bring trouble with them.” She fingered the necklace.

  “Your grandpa sounds like he was an intelligent man.”

  “He was.” Constance had made a decision. It wasn’t going to be easy to enforce, but she had to try. “You need to leave.”

  Nic’s dark brows lowered, and his forehead furrowed. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “What if Dent doesn’t call because you’re here?” It was a real concern. “He knows you want the statues.”

  …

  Nic was afraid that Dent knew more about him by now. Not that he’d find much beyond the fact that he was a gambler and a collector. “What’s to stop Dent’s men from grabbing you the second I’m gone.”

  “There’s nothing to stop them.”

  That bothered Nic. But they’d had the opportunity to do so when she’d originally come home. They could have taken her instead of her sister. There was something more to this situation. Something Nic knew he was missing.

  Still, Constance might be right. He made a decision. “I’ll pretend I’m leaving and park down the road.”

  “Dent will have men watching,” she pointed out.

  “Don’t push me. I don’t want to leave.” He fingered the necklace one final time before tucking it back under her shirt. “Keep this safe.”

  She slipped the double long chain over her head and handed it to him. “You keep it safe.” The gems glittered as they hung from her hand.

  Nic stilled. “You’re sure?”

  She shook her head. “Yes. Take it.”

  Nic could tell she was conflicted. He sensed she had an attachment to the piece. He almost left it with her, but if he had it, it would be one thing she wouldn’t be worried about protecting.

  Then there was the fact he didn’t like seeing another drakon’s tears wrapped around her neck. Jealousy wasn’t a pretty emotion. As much as he treasured the necklace of a fellow drakon, he wanted to destroy it rather than see Constance wear it.

  Drakon tears were meant to adorn the body of the woman who’d caused them. A drakon cried only at times of great sorrow and only for love. Whatever woman this necklace had been crafted for was long dead, along with her drakon. There was no other possible explanation for why it had been with the statues.

  But that wasn’t quite true. Nic himself had shed drakon tears once in his life. He’d still been a boy when his mother had cast him out of their home and village. She’d been afraid of him, of what he’d become. To protect her own place in the village, she’d shunned him along with the others.

  He’d wandered out in the desert to die, but drakons didn’t die easily. The heat that would have killed a normal man had wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. He’d shed bitter t
ears for the loss of his mother’s love. Not that he’d ever truly had it.

  When his brothers had found him, he’d been half buried in scorching sand and surrounded by precious rubies. They’d used those gemstones to get a foothold in the world, since they’d all been abandoned by their dragon sire and their human mothers.

  It was conceivable that other drakons had sold their tears in the early years. Maybe the drakon who’d shed them was still alive.

  He took the necklace from Constance’s hand and tucked it into the pocket of his leather jacket. “I’ll make sure it stays safe,” he promised. He’d ship it off to Tarrant as soon as possible. No one could get into his brother’s fortress. Plus, Tarrant was an air drakon. He should be the one guarding it. Emeralds came from air drakons.

  “Promise you’ll call me the second you hear anything?”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  He didn’t know if he could trust her to keep her word, but he had to leave, if only for a few hours. Because she was right, Dent would see him as a competitor. A dangerous one. If Nic hung around, Dent might become even more suspicious and suspect Nic was more than he seemed. Why else would he be so keen to get the statues? Why else would he kill for them?

  Nic knew he’d made a tactical error when he’d killed those men, but his overriding instinct had been to protect Constance, no matter the cost. He feared the cost just might be his life.

  She was standing there in her jeans and sweater looking more beautiful than any woman had a right to. In spite of the danger of the situation, or maybe because of it, he wanted to pick her up and take her back to his hotel room where he could strip her naked and make love to her all night long. He wanted to know what she looked like under her clothes.

  He already knew her skin was soft and that her lips tasted like heaven. He wanted to learn the shape of her breasts, the color of her nipples. His erection was making his jeans uncomfortable. Every muscle in his body was taut and ready for action. His dragon was restless, wanting out so it could protect Constance.

  She was the most dangerous creature he’d ever met. And the most beautiful. Other men might disagree, but that was because they were blind and foolish. There was something about her that drew him.

  And she had a talent that most others didn’t have. His brothers and their women had speculated on that. All the women who had attracted his brothers had a psychic gift to some extent. And now there was Constance with her ability to find the special among the junk.

  And look what she’d found.

  Those statues had started all this. And now the Knights were involved, and he was on their radar. Was it fate? Nic didn’t know. What he did know was that he needed some space and time to think. And he couldn’t do that with her standing right next to him.

  “Nic?”

  He pulled himself away from his thoughts and focused on the woman who occupied them. He should just turn and leave. That would be the smart thing to do.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her forward until her breasts were smashed against his chest. He’d never hated clothing as much as he did at this moment. He slammed his mouth down on hers and kissed her.

  Years of loneliness, of want and need, came pouring out of him. There was no way to stem the tide once their lips touched.

  She slipped her hand around to the back of his neck and kissed him back, their breath mingling, their tongues tangling. He tasted her passion and her fear. It was a heady combination. She might not trust him all the way, but she was starting to.

  That was only fair, because he didn’t totally trust her, either. Unlike his brothers, he wasn’t about to jump into bed with a woman he’d just met, no matter how attracted to her he was, no matter how much his heart longed to do so. He was going to be smart.

  He ran his hands over her back and cupped her sweet behind. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t being as smart as he should be. But he needed something to get him through the next couple of hours.

  He was going to worry about her. If something happened to her while he was gone, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. Maybe he should just find Dent and his men and rescue her sister on his own.

  Tarrant could help him with that. Then he could figure out what to do about his overwhelming attraction to Constance.

  Nic pulled away and struggled to catch his breath. “I’ve got to go.”

  She gulped and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes were unfocused, her lips moist, and her cheeks a pale pink. He wanted to take her to bed more than he wanted his next breath.

  “Call me.” Order given, he turned and stalked down the hallway and out the front door. He didn’t look back. If he did, he knew he’d never be able to leave her.

  Chapter Eight

  Constance watched Nic leave and almost called him back. She didn’t want to be alone, but she had to be. She was used to being the one to take care of the details, the one who handled difficult situations. Her grandpa had been a wonderful man, but organization hadn’t been his strong suit when it came to everyday life. With his business, he was meticulous, but everyday life? Not so much.

  It had been Constance who’d kept track of school lessons, doctor’s appointments, and extracurricular activities. She’d been the one to make sure the laundry was done and there was food in the cupboards. She’d only been a child, but she’d been more of the adult at times than he had.

  She hadn’t minded because she knew he loved them. He’d done his best, which was all anyone could ask.

  Still it got lonely being the one who had to handle all the major decisions, who had to shoulder the burdens alone. Abigail had taken on more responsibility as they’d gotten older, but by then their pattern had been set and her younger sister deferred to her on major decisions. It was lowering to realize she hadn’t done her sister any favors, had maybe used the situation to keep her sister near her so she wouldn’t be alone.

  She blew out a breath when the front door closed. If—no, when she got Abigail back alive—they were going to sit down and have a long talk about what her sister really wanted out of life and what Constance could do to help make it happen, even if that meant her sister struck out on her own.

  The thought of rambling around this house without her sister made her stomach twist into knots. Her sister gave her a reason to work, to strive for something better. Without her, Constance didn’t have a purpose.

  Maybe it was time she worked on having a life of her own. Nic popped into her head, making her groan. She dragged her fingers through her hair, trying to dispel his image. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by a man right now, no matter how sexy or compelling he was. He was here because he wanted something from her.

  Her bag swung and bounced against her body, bringing her back to the situation at hand. She unhooked it but kept the strap firmly in her hands as she went to her bedroom.

  No, she didn’t need a man to muddy the waters. Not until she sorted out her own life. But maybe, just maybe, they’d see each other when this thing was over. She ignored the way her heart leaped at the thought.

  …

  Nic backed his car out of the driveway and headed down the road. He hated leaving Constance alone and vulnerable. He didn’t go far, only a few streets over, but every yard of separation he put between them was pure hell.

  He parked in the lot of a convenience store and gas station and pulled out his phone. Tarrant answered on the first ring. “What happened?”

  “The drop went wrong. There was a slight problem.”

  There was quiet on the other end before his brother asked. “What kind of problem?”

  Nic closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest. “I had to deal with a couple of the Knight’s men. They were threatening to kill Constance.”

  Tarrant swore. “They wouldn’t kill her. They need her, at least until they make sure they have the statues. All you did was put a bigger target on both your backs.”

  He didn’t need his brother to point that out to him. “There was no other
choice.” And there wasn’t. His possessive drakon nature wouldn’t allow him to sit back and watch another man threaten his woman.

  Shit. He was so fucked. His woman. That’s how he thought of Constance Owens.

  “Where are you now?”

  “In my car, a few blocks away from her house. She pointed out that Dent might not call if he knows I’m there. And since they tossed her house while we were away, it’s likely he has men watching.”

  Tarrant’s swearing grew so loud Nic had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Dent will be looking at you now.”

  Nic opened his eyes and swept his gaze around the area. “He was looking at me the moment Mario Gonzales told him there was another buyer.” Dent wouldn’t risk another collector getting the jump on him. He’d always worry another Knight might be after what he wanted. Contrary to popular belief, only the leader knew all the members of the society. The others might think they knew, but Karina Azarov kept secrets from them all.

  Nic gave Tarrant the address of the building where Constance had met with the Knights. “They have to send a cleanup crew, although that may be done by now.”

  There was grumbling in the background. “I’ll tap into any security cams in the area. Maybe I can track the men and find out where they went.” Tarrant paused. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You plan to go after them on your own and rescue the girl.”

  The problem with having brothers who’d known you for several thousand years was that they really knew you.

  “Of all the stupid, idiotic ideas.” Nic heard a female voice murmuring in the background and knew Valeriya was talking to his brother. He winced when his brother answered her. “Nic wants to play hero for some woman. He’s going to get himself captured.”