Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

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Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology Page 160

by Pauline Creeden


  Mark’s eyes darkened as lines creased across his forehead.

  His brother cleared his throat and continued. “How about you? Mr. Webber seems particularly interested,” he said, jerking his chin toward the other side of the foyer.

  Leaning against the wall and holding a champagne flute in his hand, Chris blatantly stared in their direction. When he noticed their gazes, he tilted his head and downed the entire glass. After another moment, he slipped back into the dining hall.

  “It was a match until Drisy humiliated him by challenging him to a duel and winning. His parents promptly withdrew their offer,” her father grumbled.

  The corners of Drisy’s lips tugged up slightly and she hurriedly took a glass from a passing waiter’s tray. She hoped the others hadn’t noticed her amusement as she took a quick sip.

  “I said you’d show Mark around the garden,” Drisy’s father spoke up, finally revealing his true intention.

  Drisy clenched her jaw as the trio eagerly awaited her response. “I would be honored to,” she forced out, handing off the glass to her father. With her plans to escape the party foiled, she motioned for Mark to follow before turning on her heel.

  Leading the way through the glass double doors situated squarely below the extravagant staircase, they exited onto a spacious stone patio. An outdoor grilling station along with seating were off to the left side, and a narrow winding path led off into the hedges. Flowers of bright yellows, pinks, and blues hugged the edge of the walkway, but didn’t hinder their stroll due to the artful and expert care given by the gardners. They continued in silence for a couple of minutes until Mark nervously cleared his throat.

  “Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thanks,” Drisy responded, unable to keep the sharpness from her tone. She knew it wasn’t his fault her father was trying to set them up, but Mark also didn’t deserve to be led on.

  “I think it’s odd your father is trying to bring us together. I mean, besides the fact that my family is essential to the company and we’re in the same social circles as yours.”

  Drisy glanced at him over her shoulder. If he was going to try the reverse psychology route, it wouldn’t work.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You are too dedicated to your work to have time for a relationship. It’s apparent in the way you’ve propelled through the ranks. Becoming a major at your age is nearly unheard of!”

  “How do you know it isn’t simply a result of family’s connections?” Drisy stated as they came across a white marble fountain topped by a beautiful maiden with flowing hair. A spout of water trickled from a tilted vase she cradled in both hands, down through two tiers of shallow pools.

  He released a humorless laugh. “Since I’ve arrived here, it’s obvious your family treats you poorly. They prize Delia because she is most like them. You must be more of a rebel.” Mark settled down on a bench nearby and crossed his legs.

  Rather than sit beside him, she sat on the edge of the fountain, frustrated as she adjusted her skirts. “Honestly, based on first impressions, I expected you to be too shy to speak.”

  Mark smirked, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Being a member of the Lesden family doesn’t allow room for anyone to be shy.”

  “Exactly. You’re also in high standing. Why are you speaking to me so casually?”

  “You aren’t like the others. You’re uncomfortable putting on airs and prefer to work hard, despite being able to lounge in the lap of luxury without having to lift a finger.”

  “You picked up on all that in the five minutes we’ve been talking?” Drisy asked suspiciously, conscious of where her bodice dagger pressed against the inside of her bra. Despite the cushy world the rich pretended to live in while everyone outside of the sectors fought daily to survive, predators still existed within their communities.

  “I’m a psychiatrist. It’s my job to read people.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of her posture, and rested her hands on the cool edge of the marble rim to either side of her thighs.

  “I mostly keep my profession to myself because of the reactions it garners,” he commented with a chuckle. “I’m not here to judge you. Despite your father’s obvious intentions, I think it’d be nice to simply get to know each other. Regardless of how things turn out.”

  “What’s the angle here?” she demanded.

  “I have no ulterior motives. I worked briefly with Kurt in Sector 5 and he talked about all of you. Since our families rely on each other so much, would it hurt to try to be friends?” Mark asked.

  “I guess not. Will I see you more often, now that my promotion has me patrolling the sterile white halls within Meroq Corp?”

  “Yes. My services are often needed for those working directly with the dragon shifters. It’s a heartbreaking and deeply traumatic experience for most.”

  “Soon enough, I’ll be judging for myself,” she said uneasily.

  “If you ever need to talk, my office is always open.”

  “I’ll take it into consideration, but I have a question.”

  “Go on,” he stated.

  “When Ben spoke earlier about a scientist’s daughter.” She observed the muscles in his cheek spasm as his jaw clenched. “One doesn’t have to be a psychiatrist to understand your reaction. Who was she?”

  Mark hesitated before meeting her gaze. “Mera Yates was a new transfer to our department a couple years ago. During that time, we worked closely together because she wanted to transition from cell research to psychology. We fell in love, but knew my parents would never allow our union. So, we eloped to Sector 1, found jobs, and were settling down when…” He inhaled shakily and couldn’t muster the courage to continue speaking.

  “Did they kill her?” Drisy asked quietly.

  Mark nodded, lowering his head.

  “What did you do?”

  “What could I do?” he sighed. “I came back and returned to work.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  They sat in silence until the garden began darkening as orange and pink hues blotted the sky. She slid off the edge of the water fountain and they trailed back toward the patio as small lights began glowing to either side of the stone walkway. A light breeze rustled through the surrounding foliage as the low din of voices grew louder. After clearing the hedge, they could see guests milling around socializing with drinks in hand. As they approached the group together, a familiar blonde head swiveled in their direction. Delia’s eyes narrowed.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Mark muttered quietly in her ear before heading back inside the mansion.

  Not wanting to be drawn into a conversation with her sister, Drisy rapidly traced his footsteps, dark skirts swishing around her legs. As she crossed the threshold, someone roughly grabbed her arm, pulling her back outside. Yanking away, she stepped back and raised her fists to fight as Chris loomed threateningly over her, his cheeks ruddy.

  “Why were you alone in the garden with him?” he demanded.

  The soft sleeve of a suit brushed against her arm and she glanced up to see Mark standing at her side.

  “Her father encouraged us to take a walk,” he said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Stay away from her,” Chris slurred.

  “According to her family, you have no right to make such demands. Be on your way before you cause a scene.”

  “You’re only trouble,” he pointed accusingly.

  “Did you only come to insult our guests?” Drisy asked.

  “I’m trying to protect you!” Swaying, he reached for her arm again.

  Drisy’s fists clenched as she swatted his hand away. “Mr. Webber, you of all people should know I don’t need protection. Do not come to anymore of our social gatherings or next time, you will leave in a bodybag.” Turning, she slipped her arm through Mark’s and rapidly tugged him inside.

  “Is that a wise decision?” he muttered as they wove ar
ound several guests conversing in separate small groups within the foyer.

  “He won’t remember much when he finally sobers up,” Drisy said dismissively, guiding him through a high archway to their left.

  Small wooden card tables lined the room in neat rows, many occupied with players of two or four. A few waitresses drifted around to top off drinks and clear away appetizer dishes.

  “I meant about holding my arm,” Mark pointed out.

  Drisy chuckled as she scanned the crowd for the familiar sheen of silver hair. “Won’t they all be delighted to gossip about that too?” she remarked. “There they are.”

  Slowly weaving between tables, she led the way over to where Ben and her father were entertaining an older gentleman.

  “Ah, Mark! Excellent timing,” his brother called out as they approached. “Join us for a game or two.”

  Carson’s eyes alighted on her arm looped through Mark’s and she withdrew, motioning for the latter to take a seat. “I trust your walk was pleasant?”

  “The garden is beautiful here,” Mark spoke up. “What game are we playing?”

  “What do you suggest? We’re having trouble deciding,” Ben said.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Drisy declared, turning and heading for the foyer without glancing back.

  Delia lingered just beyond, raising a questioning eyebrow at her and parting her red-painted lips to speak.

  “Not now. I’m too tired,” Drisy said, hurrying past. Gathering up the side of her skirts, she rushed up the empty staircase and along the hallway to her room. Locking the door behind her, she kicked off her heels to the side and slipped out of the black dress, leaving it piled on the floor. Retrieving pajamas from the drawer of a white dresser, she pulled them on before collapsing onto her four-poster bed draped with pink cloth.

  Chapter 2

  Frowning at her pale reflection in the mirror, Drisy firmly tightened her long, silver ponytail. Tugging closed the tan trench coat over a rich, purple dress shirt and black pants, she pulled on a lanyard. Multiple ID cards clacked together as she walked to meet Delia in the foyer. Peeking down from the staircase railing, she noticed her twin dressed in semi-formal attire, tapping a heeled shoe and glancing at her watch. Knowing she was ahead of schedule, Drisy hurried her pace. There was no pleasing her sister and now they were meant to work together. A disaster waiting to happen.

  Looking Drisy over, Delia promptly led the way outside to where a black four-door SUV waited. Stationed nearby, the young male driver opened the door for them before climbing in to wait for confirmation of their destination. Beyond towering wrought-iron gates and reinforced concrete walls, encompassing their entire property, the rest of Sector 3 bustled with daily activity. Sidewalks were riddled with people rushing to their destinations and other vehicles clogged the road.

  Delia pulled her phone out of her black handbag and opened up a checklist as neighborhoods flashed past. “Today is merely an introduction to coworkers and refitting of your outfit. No disappearing without a chauffeur or running off to find Mark’s office.”

  Drisy scoffed at the last bit and her sister narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m serious about this. Everyone knows what happened to his last love interest,” Delia warned.

  “Yes, but she wasn’t the daughter of Carson Hughes, owner of Meroq Corp.”

  “Is that your proclamation of feelings for him?”

  “What?” Drisy gaped.

  “You heard me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m expected to have feelings after one short walk in the garden?”

  A diamond earring flashed in the sunlight as Delia tucked a strand of blonde behind her ear. “It’s nice to have feelings going into a marriage, but it isn’t necessary,” she said. “With your arm looped through his, we all just assumed.”

  Scoffing, Drisy crossed her arms and tilted more toward the window. “Everyone is so keen on seeing me married off. What’s the rush? You’ve already birthed the heirs. I just want to work hard and be free to roam the sectors.”

  “That’s why Father is adamant to reel you in. You’re too much of a rebel and a Hughes cannot do what she pleases. You can’t change that reality,” Delia stated. “He even controls what I can do in the labs. He influenced your promotion and stationed you to be a lab guard since you were out recklessly patrolling.”

  “Defending the sector isn’t reckless.”

  “It’s not work for a Hughes woman. That’s the point here,” Delia sighed and clicked off her phone, resting it in her lap. “When are you going to grow up? I am tired of defending you to the family. If you’re not careful, you’ll be shunned. What kind of example would that be for Larson and Melody? They think so highly of you.”

  Drisy’s nails dug into her palms as she thought of her niece being put through the same paces. “Are you going to do the same to Mel?”

  “Of course not,” Delia declared. “She knows better than you.”

  It seemed to take longer than normal to reach the skyscraper, housing the innermost workings of Meroq Corp. Multiple skyscrapers rose up around them, built at the center of the sector for the best protection. Windows glittered brightly in the sunlight, causing Delia to squint watering eyes as they stepped out of their vehicle. Drisy followed her twin into the main building, glass doors swishing shut behind them as cooler air engulfed them. She wiped away the light beads of sweat gathering on her forehead as they slipped into an elevator alongside a couple of people.

  “Ms. Hughes, a pleasure to see you again,” the balding man with orange-rimmed glasses declared. Shifting a brown briefcase to his other hand, he offered Delia a friendly handshake.

  Accepting it, she rubbed her hand off on the side of her grey skirt after withdrawing. “Glad to see you, Simon. I trust you and your girlfriend are doing well?”

  The corners of his thin lips dipped down as he shook his head. “We broke it off over the weekend. She was too demanding.”

  Drisy leaned against the wall railing as the other man chuckled. Dark curls bounced atop his tilted head as sparkling green eyes glanced their way.

  “More like she ran away screaming,” he declared.

  “Shut it, Yates.”

  Drisy’s attention was immediately drawn to his name. The same surname as Mark’s murdered love interest. The man caught her curious gaze and he smirked.

  “It seems even the newbie knows the Lesdens murdered my sister in cold blood,” he grimaced. “Can’t seem to escape the rumors.”

  “Murdered is harsh wordage, Ryan,” Delia said. “It was an accident.”

  Pushing Simon aside, the tall man stepped toward her. Sensing conflict, Drisy moved to step between them without hesitation.

  Looking down at her, he laughed coldly, sending warning chills shooting up her spine. “What are you doing?”

  “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here,” Drisy spoke up.

  “Who exactly are you?”

  “Major Drisy Hughes. I have recently been assigned to the labs.”

  His eyes flickered between the two women. “Sisters.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “Be seeing you then.” Turning on his heel, he stormed out into the hallway, leaving them in awkward silence.

  Simon spoke the moment the doors shut and they were moving downward again. “That asshole. Always trying to intimidate everyone by creating conspiracies. It’s a mystery to me why they haven’t fired him yet. More trouble than he’s worth.”

  “He’s still employed because they need to keep an eye on him,” Drisy commented. “What department is he in?”

  “He was a microbiologist, but due to circumstances, he can’t be kept in a position where he can manipulate products. They have him running errands for instructors on Sub-Level One instead. A major downgrade, but he deserves it after threatening the bosses,” Simon promptly explained before another ding sounded. “Well, this is my stop. Enjoy the tour!”

  Simon stepped out before the doors shut and Drisy glanced over t
o the buttons, seeing theirs was the next stop.

  “Remember to keep your mouth shut unless spoken to,” Delia snapped, reflexively smoothing her skirt and straightening her back. “Guards should be seen, not heard.”

  They exited into a short all-white hallway ending in a security door. Pressing a button, Delia gave a voice command before swiping her badge across a black scanner on the wall nearby. After a couple of seconds, a sharp click sounded as the lock disengaged, breaking the silence, and she pulled it open. Someone in a large, white hazmat suit stood just inside and motioned them through. With the door sealed behind, they were herded through a sanitization chamber. On the other side, a couple of security guards dressed in white shirts and black pants checked for weapons before clearing them.

  “Have a good day, Ms. Hughes,” they said to Delia.

  She nodded politely and led Drisy toward the waiting platform for a shuttle car. Seamless metal tracks imbedded into the floor as far as the eye could see, down a white tunnel.

  Drisy stared for a moment in disbelief. “How far does this go?”

  “It connects all of the main buildings together for easier access to labs and information. Honestly, did they teach you nothing?” Delia scoffed.

  Choosing to ignore her sister’s brashness, Drisy watched in awe as their streamlined, bullet-shaped ride zipped into sight. It eased to a quiet stop in front of them and a hatch slid aside. They embarked to find the rest of the cabin empty and, after Delia swiped her badge, they claimed the first row of seats. Drisy’s neck arched as she took in their surroundings. Despite everything being the same, sterile white, she was intrigued as they passed by other platforms, wondering what branch of the lab or building each went to.

  “You’ll find your way around easily enough, but for now, remember what I told you. Do not go anywhere without a chauffeur. I guarantee you’ll get lost and be hopelessly turned around. People have almost died down here. I cannot stress this rule to you enough,” Delia instructed again after noticing her curiosity.

  “How does everyone else find their way around down here? Where are the signs or directions?”

 

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