Dragon Protectors: Shifter Romance Collection

by Lola Gabriel

  “What does that mean?” Igor demanded, his eyes wide with concern.

  “It means that you’re free,” Anders assured him, clapping his client on the back as he gathered his paperwork. “I will be in touch when they reset the date.”

  Young Igor did not know what to make of the news, but Anders did not have the mindset to take him for a celebratory meal; he needed to contact his brothers and find out what the hell had happened the previous day.

  All night, he had been on the phone, trying to reach any of his siblings, but for the first time since technological age had commenced, he had failed to reach even one. He left messages, explaining the urgency of a returned call. As dawn broke in Amsterdam, though, he remained uncontacted by anyone.

  If he had not been so pressed for time, he would have flown down to Misty Woods, at least to speak with Max, but there were not enough hours for such a feat. Besides, even with a dragon flying around, his client came first.

  It sparked a small fission of alarm in his bones. Could something have happened to his brothers? If there were other dragons in their midst, could this be some sort of hostile takeover?

  Has Father done some vetting and finally gone through with his kooky plan for world domination? It wouldn’t be the first time Max couldn’t talk him down.

  He banished the paranoid thoughts, trying to instill in his mind that there was a perfectly logical explanation for what he and David had seen the previous morning in the New York skies. Anything was more plausible than what he was thinking.

  His brothers were self-made men, all with lives as busy as his. He couldn’t expect them to jump when he called. And of course, he had been in court that morning, and his phone was off.

  As soon as I get out of here, I’ll have five messages waiting on my voicemail, Anders reasoned.

  “Should we go to eat?” Igor asked, his eyes bright with happiness. “Perhaps I can interest you in the local cuisine? My treat, of course.”

  He can afford it, Anders thought dryly. He’s sitting rich off a Ponzi scheme.

  “I’m afraid I have a rather delicate matter to attend at home,” the attorney apologized. “I will come back soon, and I’ll take you up on that, though.”

  “I understand,” Igor said, and Anders wondered if he didn’t detect a note of relief in his voice.

  The man knows he’s guilty as sin, and he knows that I know. He doesn’t want to stare me in the face any more than necessary. And I certainly don’t need to appease him. It’s a win-win for everyone.

  The feeling was mutual. Anders didn’t need to like his clients. That was not the job.

  As the three men turned away from the courtroom, David whispered in Anders’ ear. “We’re going home? Isn’t your ex-wife taking the penthouse tonight?”

  “It’s fine,” Anders replied quickly. “We’ll make ourselves scarce, and we’ll head to the country house for the weekend after I drop off my stuff and repack. Connor will be happy he doesn’t have to hide in his suite all weekend, trying to tune out Amelia’s fashion show.”

  He had no interest in being caught up in his ex-wife’s circle, and he needed the privacy to contact his brothers. The gods had smiled on him by providing the extension on Igor’s case. He had allotted for five days in Amsterdam, and now he had four days to get to the bottom of whatever was happening.

  It’s impossible, he told himself. There is no way that there are other dragons floating around that we have not known about for years. In the time when magic was predominant in the world, perhaps they existed, but now? There are no witches, no spells. That all went out three centuries ago… right?

  Anders could not deny what he had seen. It had been a dragon… but who?

  No, he thought firmly. It was only one of the boys playing a prank. That’s why you can’t get in touch with any of them. They’re laughing at you as you have this inane conversation in your head.

  “Anders, are you all right?”

  Igor’s voice brought him back to reality, and he stood on the courthouse steps, rain splattering against them as he debated his next move.

  “Just taking in the beauty of the city,” he lied. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  When they arrived back at the Waldorf Astoria on Herengracht, Anders instructed his assistant to call for the plane and pack while he disappeared onto the balcony and closed the door for privacy. Two of his brothers had finally returned his calls, and Anders tried Marcus first, figuring him for the one most likely to pull such a silly stunt if anyone was responsible.

  “Look who has time to call his lowly brother,” Marcus chuckled. “How are you, hotshot?”

  “Don’t mock me, Marcus. I need to know if that was you yesterday.” The no-nonsense tone of his voice caused his brother to pause, and Marcus answered slowly.

  “That depends,” he replied. “What do you think you saw me doing?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Marcus. Where were you yesterday morning?”

  “The Rogers Center,” Marcus said. “Where I’ve been for the last two days. There’s a conference here, and I was a keynote speaker.”

  “You were at home in Toronto yesterday?” Anders demanded. “All morning?”

  “What’s this about, Anders? You sound out of it.”

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. “I have to go.”

  “Wait!” his brother cried. “Are you in New York now?”

  “No. I’ll be back tonight, though.”

  “Okay. The conference is done tonight. Maybe I’ll swing down to you afterward.”

  “I’ll be at the country house in Connecticut.”

  “Fine. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I have to go,” Anders repeated. “See you later.” He disconnected the call, a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. Marcus didn’t do it. I can tell he had no idea what I was talking about. Anyway, it’s easy enough to confirm that he’s at the conference.

  The next message was from Maximus, but Anders was certain that Max had nothing to do with what he had seen. It wasn’t really his style. Of the six brothers, he was the “good one.”

  That leaves three. Ansel is too consumed with training to do anything like that, but he’s not completely out of the realm of possibility. My money is on Cassius… or maybe Titus.

  Still, he had seen his brothers shift hundreds—if not thousands—of times over the centuries. He knew their markings and colorings as well as he would know them walking down the street. Anders had the utmost confidence that the jade and silver beast he had seen yesterday was not one of his siblings.

  It has to be.

  Anders wondered how many times he was going to have the same circular conversation in his head.

  “Mr. Williams, we’re scheduled to leave at noon. Does that suffice?” David called, sliding open the patio doors slightly to peek out at him timidly.

  “That’s fine, David. Thank you.” David did not immediately move, and Anders stared at him. “What is it, David?”

  “I don’t—I don’t mean to second guess you, sir, but…”

  “Out with it, David.”

  “You saw it too, didn’t you? You saw what I saw yesterday.”

  Anders inhaled sharply. “David, we discussed this. In a moment of panic, adrenaline kicks in, and the mind plays tricks. I have no idea what you think you saw, but I assure you, it—”

  “No!”

  His forceful words startled Anders. He wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to in such a way by the usually meek attorney.

  “No?” he echoed. “No, what?”

  “It wasn’t panic. I saw something flying beside us.”

  Anders gritted his teeth, realizing that lying to the kid was going to be more challenging than he had anticipated.

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, David, except that you are a lawyer, and you are supposed to behave with a certain amount of decorum. Can you imagine what our clients would say if they heard my right-hand man was having vivid hallucinations? It doesn’t insp
ire a lot of confidence, does it?”

  “Patrick saw it too, Mr. Williams! I spoke with him!”

  Anders felt his fists clench beneath the table. Things were already spiraling out of control, and they hadn’t even started an investigation yet.

  “Had you guys been smoking before flying?” Anders asked, a note of suspicion in his voice. He knew full well that David liked to indulge in a hit of pot now and again. Usually, Anders didn’t care, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  “Of course not! I would never do that when I’m working, sir!”

  “I’m starting to think that random drug tests are the way to go now,” Anders sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. If you weren’t immortal, you would be heading straight to hell for this, a small voice in his head squeaked, but Anders silenced it. He had enough to worry about without David dissolving into a pile of histrionics.

  His assistant could barely contain the baleful expression on his face, but to Anders’ relief, he lowered his eyes and nodded.

  “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, though there was no conviction in his voice. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Give me a few more minutes,” Anders replied, waving his hand dismissively, and the man retreated into the suite, presumably to lick his wounds. As he stood, half-staring after David, half-contemplating his next move, his private cell rang in his hand. “Where were you last night?” he answered without preamble.

  “Hello, brother. How are you?” Titus chirped.

  “Titus, where were you yesterday?”

  “Running my company,” he replied. “Where were you?”

  Anders was silent for a moment, his mind whirling as he thought about what he was going to do. I should tell him. I should tell someone.

  “Titus, I am asking you seriously. Were you or Cass or any of the boys playing some dumb ass joke yesterday? Because you just exposed us.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Anders,” Titus said, “you better tell me what’s going on. What do you mean, ‘exposed us’? Someone saw you?”

  “No… my assistant saw one of you guys flying beside my plane on the way out of New York.”

  Titus snickered. “Yeah, right,” he chuckled. “It was probably Father.”

  “I’m not kidding!” Anders snapped with more sharpness than he intended. “Whichever one of you it was not only scared my assistant but tried to crash my plane.”

  Anders heard the intake of his brother’s breath. “Are you sure? That’s—who was it? Did you see?”

  “That’s the thing—I have no idea. I didn’t recognize him,” Anders responded.

  There was a long silence as his brother tried to process what he had been told.

  “Anders, if what you’re saying is true,” Titus finally said, his voice low, as if he did not want to be overheard, “that means we’re not alone. There are more of us than we thought.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Anders retorted sarcastically. “I hadn’t been considering that every minute for the past twenty-four hours.”

  “We have to tell the others,” Titus continued, his tone rising in excitement. “This can only mean that whoever it is wants to be seen! How long have they been among us? How many are there? Where the hell did they come from?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Anders sighed. “Marcus is coming to me tonight in Connecticut. Why don’t you try to make it this weekend, and I’ll get in touch with the others?”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Titus agreed warily. “But, Anders—”

  “I know,” Anders interjected. “We’re not telling Father unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “I’ll try to track down the others, and I’ll see you this weekend.”

  They disconnected the call, and Anders turned around, his jaw dropping slightly as he realized David was standing on the other side of the glass. Did he hear what I said? Wait, what did I say?

  Suddenly, Anders felt as if he was the one who was high. Lying was not something he had to do outside of work. Inside work, they were structured, vetted lies with a definitive outcome. Winging it was not something he enjoyed doing.

  A strange sense of déjà vu swept through Anders, and he was transported back centuries to a place where he had fiercely guarded his secret from behind the walls of Misty Woods, along with his siblings. It had been so many years since they had worried about being caught or exposed, no matter how many harebrained schemes their fallen king father concocted, aspiring toward world domination.

  What if Father is responsible for this? he thought, the hairs on his neck rising. What if he has started a mutiny without us? We all know he’s unbalanced at best. Could he have found a way to produce more dragons and get the war he always wanted?

  It was not outside the realm of possibility, but it was not something that Anders wanted to entertain, not when his assistant was staring at him so intently. He was going to need more than just his overworked mind to solve the mystery of what was happening.

  Anders stepped forward and opened the sliding door, offering David a tight smile.

  “Ready to go?”

  David didn’t answer, turning away to allow Anders to pass, but the attorney didn’t miss the almost palpable undercurrent of tension flooding toward him.

  You’re blowing this entire thing out of proportion, he told himself. The thought did not comfort him in the least.

  Something was brewing; something ancient and dark—something they had kept under wraps for longer than luck should have allowed.

  And now it’s going to blow up in all our faces.

  7

  Sawyer was uncharacteristically nervous as she stood in the lobby of her apartment building, wiping her sweating palms on the skirt of her dress. She peeked out the glass, up and down the curb littered with double parked cars. She had no idea what to expect from the man picking her up. She knew what he looked like and what he had told her, but that was the extent of it.

  Why did I even agree to this? she asked herself. Are you out of your mind? You need to call a friend and let them know where you’re going in case you end up “missing” or some shit. This is very bad. Very, very bad, Sawyer!

  No sooner did the thought pass than a stretch limo appear, gleaming an unnatural white against the rundown neighborhood, and Sawyer cringed as she realized it was there for her.

  Ugh. I can’t get into a limo wearing this! she thought, glancing down at herself. I’ll stain the diamond interior. It was one of the only two dresses she owned, and it was the fancier of them: a simple strapless mini-dress, black and boring. She had no interest in standing out in any crowd, donning a pair of three-inch heels after half an hour of switching between them and flats.

  The vehicle stopped before her, and reluctantly, Sawyer made her way down the broken steps of the entranceway toward the car, her breaths catching slightly as the driver made his way around.

  “Good afternoon, miss.”

  “Hi,” she offered dully, straining her eyes to look through the tinted glass. Of course, the action was futile, and she saw no one until the door opened and she was staring at the older man inside.

  “Sawyer!” the familiar stranger called happily from his seat along the windows. “You look lovely.”

  Sawyer nodded, swallowing her anxiety as she slid inside, the backs of her naked thighs touching the coolness of the leather.

  “I feel a little underdressed,” she blurted out, her olive cheeks staining crimson. “And I don’t know your name.”

  He chuckled as the door closed behind her and leaned forward to extend a well-manicured hand. Again, she glimpsed the tattoo on the inside of his wrist, half-covered by the cuff of a powder blue shirt.

  “You are dressed charmingly, and it is my fault you don’t know my name. I usually have better manners than that.” His smile widened.

  “Well? Do I get to know it now?” she asked, staring at his hand before accepting it hastily.

  “Vander. Vander Kinrade.�
��

  “Really?” She hadn’t meant to sound so dubious, but it seemed impossible that the older gay man in the ridiculously overpriced suit—sporting a walking cane, no less—had such a pretentious name.

  “Yes,” he laughed, amused by her expression. “That is truly my name.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” Sawyer said quickly, lowering her dark eyes in embarrassment. “It’s a great name.”

  “I imagine you’ve taken some flak for your own name,” Vander commented, the smile still on his emaciated face. “Sawyer for a girl seems rare.”

  “It was my grandfather’s name, and the ultrasound lied,” she explained, realizing that she was babbling. The limo glided through traffic as if it was not a city block long, and she could barely see the driver in the distance between them.

  “The ultrasound lied?” he echoed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means they bought a whole bunch of baseball gloves and painted the nursery blue.”

  “They thought you were going to be a boy?” Vander asked, sounding surprised. “That must have been quite a shock.”

  “The real shock was when my mother didn’t survive the birth.” Sawyer’s own mouth fell open, and she stared at her date, dumbfounded by her own crassness. “Jesus Christ!” she cursed. “I—I don’t know where the hell that came from. I’m sorry! I act like such an idiot when I’m nervous!”

  Vander shrugged nonchalantly. “People tell me that I have a very open way about me. I like to think that makes me a good listener.”

  “Or maybe I’m just an asshole,” Sawyer muttered, wishing the floor would open up and engulf her whole. “Please, just forget I said that.” She stared at her hands, trying to think of something lighthearted and funny to say, but nothing came to mind, and she sat miserably, unable to meet Vander’s intelligent gray eyes.

  “You know, Sawyer, there’s a reason that we have all been brought together for this cause,” he told her.

  “The Order, you mean?”

  “Yes, The Order.”

  Hesitatingly, she lifted her head and looked at him curiously.