The Dragon's Wing

by Tate James

“I don't know,” he said from behind clenched teeth. “It's your hand, I think. It's like you're holding a cattle brand against my back.”

  Hesitantly, I lifted the hand that I had been keeping pressure with but kept it ready to press down again if the blood started gushing.

  “Is that better?” I asked and got his long, low groan for a response.

  Take that as a yes?

  When no fountains of blood began squirting out like in a Tarantino movie, I withdrew my bloody hand a bit further and peered at the wound. Then blinked. Leaned closer and tried to swipe some of the blood aside to get a better look. Holy shit…

  “What are you doing?” Vali groaned when my fingers touched his skin again.

  “Um, so I don't know if it's the shock, but I am pretty sure…” I started to say I am pretty sure I'm healing you because the place where you literally just got shot now looks like a way less serious injury. But he knew nothing of my abilities, and I was sure to sound like a lunatic.

  “Pretty sure, what? What's going on?” he demanded, and I debated what to say. I did know, regardless of what I was going to tell him, that the burning pain he was feeling must have been the healing magic, and it needed to finish what it had started.

  “Um, I'm pretty sure I need to keep my hand on it. Sorry…” I muttered and placed my hand back on the considerably less serious injury, lighter this time. Excitement and terror battled for domination within me as I tried not to think about what this new development might mean.

  Vali let out a small cry of pain, and I bit my lip hard. How the hell am I going to explain this? Just, oh by the way, I have magical-fucking-powers, and I just saved your life?

  Now that I knew what was going on, I too could feel the heat where my hand was touching his flesh, although nowhere near the burning level he must be feeling.

  “How is it now?” I asked when I felt the warmth fade.

  “Better. Good. Actually, really good. I feel… incredible…” His voice was stronger, back to its usual velvety richness, and he rolled his shoulders. I lifted my hand away from his back, and from what I could see through the blood, the wound was completely healed. Not even a mark remained; the only evidence that I hadn't imagined it was the blood, which was everywhere. Almost his entire back was slick red, obscuring the tattoos I could see outlines of. Both my hands were coated right up to the elbows, and I could feel my dress sticking to me where I must have been lying in a pool of it.

  “Kit,” he said cautiously, rolling over to sit and face me. “What did you do?”

  “Huh?” I replied, at a loss for how to explain. “I didn't do anything. I guess maybe you weren't hurt as badly as we thought?”

  “Dragă, don't bullshit me. I was dying, and we both knew it. I will ask you again, what did you do?” The way he was looking at me, his eyes wide in his now healthy-looking face, spoke volumes to how freaked out he must have been.

  “Kit!” Jonathan called out, saving me further questioning. “We need to go. Dragomir's men are right behind me. If they see all of this…” He trailed off as he came around the car we were crouched behind and saw Vali sitting up, unhurt.

  “He's right,” Vali muttered but looked like the words pained him to say. “If you're leaving, now is the time. My men won't take kindly to this… mess…”

  Not needing to be told twice, I scrambled to my feet, still wearing the gorgeous Jimmy Choos. Jonathan grabbed one of my blood-covered hands and took off at a run with me clicking behind him.

  As I ran, I risked a quick glance backwards. Vali was on his feet, and the stare he gave me felt like it was searing his mark against my soul. I had no doubt this wasn’t the last I would be seeing of Dragomir Valeriu du Romane.

  16

  Neither Jonathan nor I spoke a word during the entire drive from out of Vali's underground garage all the way to a private airstrip in the desert. In the darkness, I could see the distant lights of a city glowing like a halo over the horizon, and when we pulled to a stop, the sign outside the small air field office told me we were in Nevada. Just outside Las Vegas if all those lights were any indication.

  “Kiddo, you want to get cleaned up?” Jonathan asked quietly once we had boarded the Omega Group jet. I gave him a blank look, then looked down at the dried and flaking brown-red all over my skin.

  “Go on,” he urged. “The pilot can wait until you're done.”

  It sounded like a good idea; I badly needed to clean up. Silently nodding to him, I wove my way down the aisle towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to grab a dress from the narrow closet where both Jonathan and I kept a couple changes of clothes. We both used the company jet often enough that it had become useful to have spares on board.

  Once in the small bathroom, I scrubbed my skin until it was raw and couldn't help noticing the similarities of having done this exact same thing only a day earlier. Had it only been a day? It was crazy how much shit could happen in such a short amount of time.

  Clean, I rejoined my guardian and buckled my safety belt while he gave a nod to the captain that we were ready to leave.

  “Do you want to explain what happened back there?” he finally asked when I said nothing.

  I shrugged, still trying to process what had just happened. “Uh, I guess I healed him. Dupree wasn't lying after all.”

  Jonathan raised his eyebrows at me with an odd look in his eyes.

  “No,” he said quietly. “I guess she wasn't. What impact do you think that will have on him?”

  “What do you mean? I saved his life. He's alive and probably thinks he is losing his mind because it's freaking impossible to heal someone from what should have been a fatal bullet wound.” I frowned at Jonathan's intense gaze. What has gotten into him lately?

  “Yes, but if Dupree wasn't lying about you being able to heal other people, she may not have been lying about you healing the supernaturals. Do you think Dragomir might have had any supernatural DNA in him? And if so, what impact do you think there might be?” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

  “I…” My jaw flapped. I hadn't even considered that.

  “Not to worry. I will place some agents to keep an eye on him. Just in case.” Jonathan clapped his hands on his thighs and sat back. “Get some sleep, kiddo. You look exhausted.”

  His suggestion made sense—I was exhausted—but he had just dropped a bomb on me. Had I just turned Vali into some sort of creature, like me? Fuck, he's going to kill me.

  Collapsing back in my seat, I stared out the window while the thoughts rolled over and over in my brain. Best case scenario, he was just one hundred percent human and nothing further would happen. That wasn't too much to hope for was it?

  We barely spoke for the rest of the flight, not that I really had Jonathan's attention in the first place. He spent almost the entire time on his laptop doing God knows what.

  “How did this whole plan come about?” I asked him at one stage when my mind was driving me batshit with questions over whether I had just totally ruined a man's life or not.

  “Hmm?” he replied, not even glancing up from his computer.

  “The escape plan. How did the whole thing come together? Did you already know Vali? Was him buying me at the auction all part of the plan? Did you realize it was Mr. Grey that was coming after me?” I had so many questions.

  He just blinked at me for a moment, then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I can't say much; it was part of our agreement. Suffice to say Dragomir was alerted to your disappearance by a mutual acquaintance, and he was in the unique position of being allowed access to more unsavory locations such as the Onyx Auction. Once he had found you and brought you back to Nevada, he made contact and arranged for me to come and collect you.”

  “That doesn't tell me anything. Who is the acquaintance? How did he get in contact with you? You're not exactly the easiest person to just look up in the phonebook, you know.” I narrowed my eyes at him. This whole explanation stank. Why was he lying to me? Or maybe not lying,
but certainly omitting.

  He just shrugged and put his glasses back on, returning to his laptop. Apparently, that was all the explanation I was going to get from him.

  “Jonathan,” I snapped. “Seriously? That's it?”

  “That's it, kiddo,” he sighed. “Just let it go. You're safe and unharmed, right?” I nodded slowly, but how did he know I hadn't been harmed? He sounded so sure.

  “Right, then. Just sit back and take it easy. We are heading back home to New York, and I am sure Lucy will be dying for a call from you when we land.” He gave me a brittle smile that didn't reach his eyes then dismissed me by turning back to his computer again.

  On arrival back at our townhouse in Manhattan, he pulled an even stranger move by not even getting out of the car.

  “Aren't you coming in?” I frowned, holding the door open after getting out myself.

  “No, sorry love, I am needed back at the office. Have to sort out the paperwork for Zebra's death.” He must mean the agent that had died back at Vali's house. My faux-father gave all of his top-tier agents animal related codenames, and some of them were just atrocious. I supposed there were only so many cool-sounding animals out there.

  “Okay, sure…” I hesitated. “I guess I will see you later then?”

  “Uh-huh, yep, but maybe not until tomorrow. You know how long these things can take.” He gave me another fake smile, and I frowned as I closed the car door and watched the car disappear down the street.

  What the hell was going on with him?

  17

  Stepping inside the townhouse that I technically lived in with Jonathan, I couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that he was acting really strange. But maybe he just had a lot on his mind?

  Shaking it off, I grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen bench. He was right that Lucy would want to know I was okay. Given I didn't know any of the boys’ phone numbers by heart and had no idea where my mobile had ended up, calling Lucy at her rehab facility seemed like a good idea. Jonathan had mentioned on the flight that he would contact the guys anyway.

  Needing to Google the number, I wandered through to Jonathan's office and clicked his mouse a couple of times to bring the screen to life, then typed in his password.

  Incorrect.

  Typed it again. Slower this time.

  Incorrect.

  It was his home computer, which he stored absolutely nothing Omega Group related on, so he hadn't changed the password the entire time I had lived there.

  “So weird,” I muttered and dialed directory services instead to get the rehab facility’s number. Much to my disappointment, Lucy wasn't there. The receptionist had helpfully connected me through to her room, but it just rang out. Maybe she was in a session or something.

  At a loss for what to do next, I headed upstairs to my bedroom. It had been way too long since I had last slept and my eyelids felt like sandpaper, yet the second I climbed into my huge princess bed, I was wide awake again.

  For a while I stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to switch off, but my mind kept churning over the recent events. Had I really turned Vali into something supernatural? How would he know? But more to the point, I could heal other people now. That had to come in handy sooner or later. Especially around the guys.

  In an attempt to switch my brain off, I grabbed a book from my nightstand where I had left it at Thanksgiving. It had been a gift from Caleb and was the story of a girl who fell in love with all five members of a rock band. I’d run out of time to start it when I was last home, but now it was sounding like a pretty intriguing subject matter, given the state of my own love life.

  Was it really possible to love that many people at once? Or more to the point, for them to be okay with it? If sleep was failing me, I may as well read a little and see how this fictional girl dealt with it. Maybe I could get some pointers…

  The sound of someone repeatedly ringing the doorbell woke me. Sleep had claimed me halfway into the second book of the series, but damn they were getting good—and seriously hot. Waking up, I was still a bit flustered from the last scene I had read.

  As the doorbell continued chiming, I groaned and dragged my butt out of bed to see who it was.

  “Vixen!” I heard a familiar, gravelly roar followed by the sound of Cole banging on the door with his massive fist. A flutter of excitement and nerves ran through me as I descended the last staircase into the foyer to let Cole in before he got impatient and broke the door down.

  I unbolted the door, and it slammed open, almost knocking me off my feet, but he was right there to catch me, his thickly muscled arms wrapped around my body as he crushed me to his hard chest. We stayed like that for a while, his face pressed into my hair and my hands clutching and twisting his T-shirt, before he pulled back and peered into my eyes.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he murmured, his smoky voice rolling over me in waves that made my belly flip. His granite eyes were burning with an intensity that shocked me. He was usually so guarded, so closed off. I hadn’t expected to see such raw emotion from him, but it was addictive. I wanted him to look at me like that forever.

  “I missed you too, big guy,” I whispered back, a hot tear spilling down my cheek. His gaze tracked its path, but before it could run too far, he leaned in and placed a kiss on it, his soft lips lingering at the corner of my mouth a moment. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned my face into his gentle caress, my movement instantly rewarded as his lips met mine. To my surprise, he made no attempt to deepen the kiss, instead keeping it sweet, then breaking away. He studied my face with a cryptic expression while rubbing his thumb across my lower lip, seeming to be lost in thought.

  “Is anyone else home?” he finally asked, and I grinned wickedly, shaking my head.

  “We're all alone,” I told him with a wink and slid my cold hands under the fabric of his shirt. As I grasped his bare sides, I felt his skin pebble at the iciness of my fingers. He gave me a wicked smile of his own and jerked his head towards the stairs.

  “In that case, I'm sleeping in your room tonight. I'm not letting you out of my sight for another second,” he told me with a raw possessiveness that made my thighs clench tightly.

  “Mm-hmm,” I hummed in agreement, grasping his massive hand in mine and leading the way up the stairs. “You're absolutely welcome in my bed, but sleep is the last thing I want to do with you tonight.” I threw what I hoped was a sexy look over my shoulder at him. I could only blame that steamy novel, but the second I had heard him pounding down my door, I’d begun burning with a need for intimacy to the point where I could barely keep my focus on the steps beneath my feet.

  18

  My bedroom was what little girls dreamt of, with soft purple walls and plush unicorns all over the massive king-sized bed that I had just crawled out of, and I heard Cole stifle a snort of laughter at seeing it all. Jonathan had hired a top New York interior designer to decorate it for me when I first moved in with him at age thirteen, and I simply didn't have the heart to tell him how awful it all was. He had looked so proud of his efforts to be a Dad, so I’d just gone with it.

  “Um, it's… very you, Vixen,” Cole commented with a strangled laugh, and I whacked him playfully on the belly with the back of my hand. It probably hurt me more than it hurt him though, given how hard his midsection is. He caught my wrist and tugged me back closer to him, his face once again serious.

  “Are you…” he began, his brow furrowed and his mouth twisting as he seemed to be searching for the right words. “Did anyone… I mean…” He puffed out a sharp breath, breaking eye contact with me as he looked down to my narrow wrist ensnared in his grip. “Did they hurt you?” he finally ground out, his eyes darting back up to mine for a split second and then away again as though he was scared to see the answer in mine. I grabbed his chin, tilting his face back up so he could hopefully see the sincerity on my face as I answered him.

  “No one touched me. I promise. And I only got drugged twice, or technically, three times, but for one of t
hose I was awake the whole time.”

  He didn't appear particularly reassured and huffed at me, frowning, “If you were unconscious the other two times, how do you know for sure nothing happened?”

  “I just do.” I shrugged. “But even if I didn't, there would be no use driving myself nuts with what ifs, right?”

  He still looked concerned, so I changed the subject by rising up on my tiptoes and planting my lips solidly against his. When at first he didn't reciprocate, I took matters into my own hands and used his broad shoulders to hoist myself up, wrapping my legs around his thick waist and pressing my kiss harder, as though to convince him that I was fine. I was here, unharmed, and most of all, alive.

  The tension noticeably slipped from his body as he curved his hands under my thighs to hold my weight. His broad hands cupped my butt as his lips parted and invited me in. I couldn't help the low, satisfied chuckle from escaping my throat as his long strides carried us over to my bed in only three steps and gently lowered me to the rumpled covers.

  “Damn, you're hard to say no to, Vixen.” He glowered at me, then dove back in to claim my mouth with his. This time he was totally in control, and I gladly gave in to his lead, letting him set the pace while my eager hands slid underneath his dark gray shirt once more. Still worked up from the steamy scenes in my book, I deftly flicked the buttons of his shirt undone, one by one, then pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders. He repaid the favor and broke our kiss to yank my flannel pajama top over my head.

  “You're killing me.” He groaned, seeing I wasn't wearing anything under my pajamas, and gently palmed one of my breasts while supporting his weight on the other arm. I sighed with satisfaction, then used his occupied hands to my advantage, raking my fingernails firmly down his muscled back and feeling the muscles bunch and contract before reaching the waistband of his dark blue jeans. My mouth worked its way in little kisses up his neck until he dipped low and captured my taut nipple between his teeth. I sucked in a sharp breath at the warning nip he gave me, moaning aloud as he sucked and flicked with his tongue. Yes!