The saleswoman put her hands on her hips and smiled. “You two certainly do not look at all the same as when you came in.”
“Great.” Daryl grinned. “That was the whole idea.”
After Ronan paid her, the two stood outside to hail a cab to take them back to the Greyhound bus terminal. Daryl took Ronan’s hand. “They say third time is the charm.”
“Do they? I certainly hope they’re right.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Come on, come on,” Tank muttered, gazing at the massive number of people moving in and out of the bus terminal. “Daryl, get your ass here so I can kill you.”
He, Two-Bit, and Flame had arrived quite early in the morning, Tank afraid that Daryl and her dragon might have come and gone the previous night. They had sat in the nondescript Ford sedan and watched all through the previous day with no sign of Daryl or the guy.
His broken arm still ached fiercely from Daryl stomping on it and he finally began to wonder if she had separated the ends of the bones. I may have to have it reset. But that would have to wait until after he got his money, killed Daryl, and had her dragon in chains.
Two-Bit in the passenger seat beside him yawned and closed his eyes, garnering Tank’s irritation. “Wake up, damn it. Keep a watch for them.”
“I am, I am.” Two-Bit blinked, yawned again, but watched the endless ebb and flow of passengers in and out of the terminal.
Tank especially watched the cabs, as that was how Daryl and the guy got around. It was now midafternoon of the second day he had parked to watch for them, and still nothing.
“Maybe they came in the night, boss,” Flame suggested, his tone cautious. His near-constant flicking of his lighter in the rear seat jangled Tank’s nerves, but he forced himself to not yell at him to stop. Flame was one of two guys Tank could trust and rely on.
“I fucking hope not,” Tank growled, knowing that was a possibility. Under the cover of the darkness and the shadows cast by the lights, Daryl and the dragon changer could easily escape being seen even if Tank had had an army watching for them.
“What’s the plan for when we do see ‘em?” Two-Bit asked, fighting another yawn.
“Follow them to wherever they’re hiding,” Tank answered. “Then we nab Daryl and the money and entice her big fire-breathing friend to her. Once we have him doped out and chained, I’m planning a nice little party for Daryl. You boys did what I told you, right?”
“Yeah,” Two-Bit answered. “The empty warehouse is ready, and we broke into a vet’s place. Got the dope, needles, syringes, the works.”
“How much did you get?”
Two-Bit gazed at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
Tank wanted to smash his fist right between those wide, blank eyes. “How much dope did you get?”
“Oh, enough to knock out an elephant.”
“Okay, great. Now we just have to find them.”
Perhaps another hour rolled by with no sign of Daryl or her pal, and Tank grew impatient as well as worried. If Flame was right and they picked up the money sometime during the night hours, Tank was royally screwed. He scanned the people leaving the terminal, and his gazed sharpened on a man and a woman.
He didn’t know them from Adam. But he certainly knew the cases they each carried.
Square, black, and trimmed in silver metal. His cases containing his cash.
“Fuck me,” he whispered. “That’s them.”
“Where?” Two-Bit asked, straightening.
“The guy in the cowboy hat with the glasses and the beard with the brunette. That has to be them in disguise, cuz those are my cases they got with them.”
Two-Bit grinned. “Dat was damn smart of ‘em to go in disguise.”
“Yeah, and if I hadn’t recognized my cases, they’d have gotten away with it, too.” Tank also grinned, a fierce and savage grimace of exultation. “Your ass is mine, Daryl.”
He started the Ford’s engine. “Help me keep them in sight in this traffic, Two-Bit.”
“Ya got it, boss.”
Daryl—Tank was sure it was Daryl now that he had a chance to watch her—and the guy, whose sheer size couldn’t be disguised, got into a cab parked in the line of them. When the taxi pulled out, Tank did the same and carefully kept two cars between them at all times. Enjoy it while you can, bitch. I’m coming for you.
“They’re turning right,” Two-Bit said eagerly.
“I see ‘em.”
The taxi made steady progress toward JFK airport, and as traffic around them grew lighter, Tank had to drop back another car length. He sure didn’t want the cabbie to comment to his passengers that they were being followed. But the driver gave no hint or made any evasive maneuvers to lose him.
With Two-Bit happily pointing out the turns the cabbie took, Tank kept the taxi in sight, his nerves stretched tautly. This would be the hard part—snatching Daryl out from under the nose of a fire-breathing dragon. If they got caught, he had little doubt what their fate would be. No need to get another set of X-rays taken. My bones will be little more than ash floating on the breeze.
“What do ya think a zoo will pay for a live dragon?” Two-Bit asked, apparently not the least bit concerned about tangling with the beast again.
“Not a zoo,” Tank corrected, wondering if it were even possible to catch this dragon. “The U.S. government. Can you see them making this guy fly recon missions for them? To blast enemy buildings? Or even get him to walk in a place as a human, then go dragon and kill everyone?”
“You’d have to be careful if you want to deal with the government or the military, Tank,” Flame said from the back seat. “They have the power to take him from us without paying. Or they might throw us in the clink and throw the keys down the toilet.”
Flame may be weird, always flicking that fucking lighter, but Tank knew there was nothing wrong with his brains. “Good point,” Tank replied. “Maybe we’ll sell him to some science lab for a couple mil. Then the military can take him from them.”
“Wouldn’t they keep ‘im a secret?” Two-Bit asked, his eyes watching the cab, his left arm pointing out the cabbie’s turns.
“Once that dragon man is in their hands,” Tank said, turning the Ford down a quieter residential street, “they can’t keep something like him a secret. Not for long.”
Flame actually laughed, a sound that sent a chill running down Tank’s spine. The man seldom laughed, and when he did, it was spooky. “Hey, we sell him to a lab, then sell the secret to the tabloids for another few million.”
“Great idea.” Tank imagined all that money, retiring down to Mexico and living the rest of his life watching the senoritas on the beach. The thought cheered him, and his nerves took a break from bugging the crap out of him.
“Hey, Tank, they’re pulling in at dat hotel.”
Tank slowed the Ford and rolled on past the Sea Crest Hotel as the cab parked in front of the pleasant-looking place. At the end of the block, he pulled a U-turn and headed back, then drew the sedan to the curb a half a block away. The passengers got out as the cabbie opened the trunk and pulled the cases from it.
“That’s my cash,” he growled.
The two, Daryl and the dragon man, he was certain, walked to a room, unlocked the door, and went inside. The taxi drove away. Chewing his thumbnail, Tank watched the door they closed behind them, now having arrived at the most dangerous part of their plan.
“Now what, Tank?” Two-Bit asked, picking at his finger splints on his right hand.
Tank turned the engine off and settled comfortably in his seat. “We wait.”
Daryl pulled the itchy wig from her head and flung it onto the bed, her triumph singing in her veins. “We did it, Ronan,” she exclaimed, almost leaping into his arms and planting a smacking kiss to his lips.
He had hardly gotten his own wig off, and she interrupted him in the act of removing the false beard. Ronan grinned as she kissed him, his hands holding her lightly. “Open the cases.”
Daryl squeale
d in childish delight and turned to the two black cases on the bed. She unsnapped the catches and slowly lifted the lid. Awed, she stared down at the bundles of cash lying in neat rows, filling the case entirely. “Oh, my,” she breathed. “We’re rich.”
Ronan opened the other, and the sight was the same. He picked up a bundle and rifled through it with his thumb. “I’m going to guess and say there’s far more than five hundred thousand in these,” he said, putting the bundle back in its place.
“Even if there is,” Daryl replied, thinking of Oregon and a new start for them both, “I don’t want to count it until we get out of here. And we should go soon. Tomorrow. Or even today.”
Ronan eyed her curiously, pulling off his fake beard and his glasses. “We saw no sign of Tank, and we were in and out without any trouble. You still think he’s a danger?”
“Of course he is,” she answered, wondering why it was so damn easy to get in and out, even with their appearances changed. “It was almost too easy, and that makes me nervous.”
“But if he or his gang were there and saw us,” Ronan said reasonably, “why didn’t they try to take the money from us?”
Daryl pulled the smock over her head and tossed it on the floor, then sat down beside the case of money with a sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe we did pull it off and his goons are still watching the terminal. I just can’t shake the feeling we need to get out of New York. Like yesterday.”
Sitting on the edge of the other bed, facing her, Ronan rested his hands between his knees, his eyes intent. “I want to trust your instincts.”
“But?”
“No buts. I’m suggesting we spend the rest of this day finalizing our plans. How we’re going to get there, for instance. By bus? Airplane?”
Daryl suddenly narrowed her eyes. “Shit. You don’t have any ID, do you?”
“Why? Is that a problem?”
“Could be. You can’t buy a plane ticket without one, for instance. I think you need one for train or bus tickets, too.”
“Why?”
She waved her hand, now saddled with another worry about how they could get out of New York without Ronan having a photo ID. “It all goes back almost twenty years. This country was attacked by terrorists, and now almost all transportation is covered under Homeland Security. While having ID doesn’t stop terrorism, it does help to prevent some of it.”
“How can we get me one then?”
“Fortunately, I know someone who knows someone,” Daryl replied with a smile. “However, it takes time. So I guess you’re correct. We’ll have to wait and do some planning before we split. It still makes me nervous to wait, though.”
Ronan gestured toward the cases. “Should we hide these?”
“Yeah, but where?”
“Under the beds doesn’t seem to be a very safe hiding place.”
Taking a bundle of the cash from the nearest case, Daryl closed and latched its lid, then sat chewing her lip. “A hotel this small probably doesn’t have a safe. There’s no way to hide all that in here.”
“Then we have to stay with it,” Ronan said. “Or take it with us if we have to go out.”
“That’ll prove awkward if we head out to find someone to make you a fake ID.”
“Better that than leaving it unguarded.”
Daryl half shrugged, half nodded. “You’re right. I guess we can figure something out. In a while, I’ll go grab us some Chinese, and you stay here and guard our treasure.”
Laughing, Ronan said, “Yeah, leave the dragon to watch over the gold. Sounds like something out of an old book.”
“You are the best one to protect it.” Daryl pulled the Glock from her jeans and held it up, her finger through the trigger guard. “Although I suppose I’m almost as dangerous as long as I have this.”
Chapter Sixteen
Darkness fell without Daryl or the dragon emerging from the hotel room. Tank grew hungry as well as impatient and angry. “What are they doing in there? Humping?”
“Probably,” Two-Bit replied. “Daryl is a fine piece o’ ass.”
“If we can’t get Daryl away from the boy-toy, we’re screwed,” Tank observed. “If we storm the room now, he can flame us into little bits of ash and teeth before we get a shot off. And shooting him down first won’t get us our millions.”
“They got to eat, don’t they?” Flames asked quietly.
“How do we know they ain’t got an entire smorgasbord in there?” Tank snapped.
“Maybe they be eatin’ each other.” Two-Bit snickered.
Tank wanted to smack him. “Shut up, Two-Bit. You ain’t helping.”
“Sorry, boss.”
More time passed as Tank tried to think of ways to get Daryl out of the room without the dragon man. Any possible plan he came up with would end in failure, he suspected. Daryl wasn’t stupid, and she didn’t have friends, so calling and saying her girlfriend was sick wouldn’t fly. Then Flame spoke up sharply.
“Tank. She’s right there.”
Staring, Tank realized he might have missed seeing her if Flame hadn’t. As he thought, the hotel door had opened, and Daryl left to walk toward the street. Nothing more than a shadow in the darkness, Tank knew it was Daryl by her wild lengths of hair that glimmered when she walked near a street light.
“Amen, halleluiah, saints be praised,” he breathed, starting the Ford’s engine. “Both you guys will have to jump out and grab her. She’ll fight but get her into the car quick.”
Two-Bit almost panted in his eagerness. “Ya got it, boss.”
Putting the sedan in gear, Tank drove slowly toward Daryl as she strode with confidence toward the main drag. He didn’t turn on the headlights, not yet, even though she might find it suspicious that a car drove behind her without lights on.
Holding his breath, fearing she would bolt like a gazelle on the African plains if she knew she was being hunted, Tank observed a spot where there were few places she could run to.
Nor were there any witnesses to see them kidnap her. The entire area was quiet and motionless, except for Daryl.
“Get ready, boys,” he said, his mouth dry, for they would have only once chance at this. “Here we go.”
He floored the accelerator, and the Ford leaped forward with the squeal of protesting tires. Daryl spun around, her mouth open, then then she sprinted for the main road where there were lots of witnesses. And potential help. Tank passed her in seconds, then spun the wheel hard to the right. Daryl skidded to a stop and turned to run the other way.
Damn, this girl is fast.
“Get her,” he yelled. “Get her now.”
Two-Bit’s door swung open before the Ford came to a halt, and Two-Bit was out in a flash. As was Flame. Both pounced on her, grabbing her with their healthy left hands. They kept their broken right hands away from the tussle to protect their busted fingers. She screamed, yelling, cussing, and fought them both. “Get your hands off me, you scumbags.”
Tank watched, almost breathless as Daryl kicked Two-Bit and squirmed from his grasp. Only Flame’s grip on her arm prevented her from escaping. Daryl half-spun and punched him full in the face with her clenched fist. Flame cursed and almost let her go, blood pouring from his nose.
Lights came on in the neighborhood homes; porchlights flooded the street even as folks opened their doors to see what was going on.
“Grab her!” Tank roared. “Get her into the fucking car.”
Two-Bit grabbed her again and received an elbow punch to his gut. Daryl twisted again, aiming a kick at Flame’s groin. He managed to block it with his thigh, and then Two-Bit seized her by her swinging arm. He twisted it behind her back, ending some of her fight but not her voice.
“Help me,” she shrieked, her hair covering her face. “Help.”
“Hey, there!” a voice shouted from one of the houses over Daryl’s screams for help. “Let her go.”
Two-Bit shoved her hard against the car even as more bystanders headed for them, calling questions to one another, some d
emanding they leave Daryl alone. Flame put an end to Daryl’s fight by slamming his fist into her kidney. Daryl cried out in pain but went limp enough for Two-Bit to push her through the open rear door.
He lunged inside even as Flame ducked into the front passenger seat, yelling, “Go, go, go.”
Hit foot mashing the pedal to the floor, Tank spun the wheel at the same time. The Ford hit forty in three seconds and blasted from the neighborhood. He roared down the block, ignoring stop signs, leaving the concerned citizens behind. On the main street, a car coming at him blew its horn wildly and avoided a crash by inches.
“Slow down,” Flame bellowed, wiping the blood from his face on his shoulder. “You’re gonna attract the cops.”
Tank knew that the concerned citizens would have called the cops, and no doubt, the police were already en route. He braked the Ford to the speed limit, searching for any sign of the approaching lights and sirens.
Nothing.
His breathing slowing, he dared to glance over his shoulder at the rear seat. Two-Bit held Daryl’s face into the cloth, his expression furious. “Don’t kill her,” Tank snapped. “We need her alive, you stupid ass.”
Two-Bit released her, and Daryl turned her head, coughing and gasping. She lay on her belly with Two-Bit half on her, his weight pinning her down. “Dat bitch kicked me,” Two-Bit spat.
“What’d you expect?” Tank snorted. “But we got her. Now I’ll get my money from the dragon.”
Oddly, Daryl started to laugh. “You are one dumb fucker, Tank,” she snarled, still laughing. “You think you can take on a dragon? Didn’t you learn your lesson? Never mess with dragons, nimrod.”
“I have you, sweetheart,” Tank retorted. “He’s gonna be a nice, tame little lizard if he wants to see you again.”
“Good luck with that,” Daryl replied. “When you see him, it’ll be his fires you see. Just before you die.”
Dragon Fever: Limited Edition Holiday Romance Boxset Page 37