by Lola Gabriel
He grinned. “I have no intention of getting on your bad side, Sawyer. Any other side but your bad one, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied.
14
“Why are you calling so late?” Anders hissed into his cell.
“Ah, I always forget about the time difference,” Max sighed. “Should I call you later?”
“Never mind now. What did you learn about the women?”
“Not a lot,” he confessed, and Anders felt a stab of disappointment in his bones. Things had been too quiet the past two weeks. The arsons had stopped abruptly after Anders’ penthouse, a conflagration that had cost six people their lives and two dozen more serious injuries. Never mind that Anders had been uprooted from his home.
Not that these past couple weeks have been unkind to me, he thought. Sawyer had been like an anchor in the storm to him, and he wondered if he would have been able to handle everything quite as well if she hadn’t been such a welcomed distraction.
The police had no answers, chalking the fire to yet another one of the unexplained. It was not the work of a bomb, nor was there an accelerant used.
“It’s almost like someone just dropped a ball of fire on the building, like the sun just spat something up and it happened to land on random spots in New York City.”
But of course, Anders knew that was not the explanation.
“I went to Airolo to speak with the locals. It’s been a year since anyone has seen them.”
“No one thought that was strange?”
“Anders, they thought the entire village was strange, all women and children,” Max said. “They didn’t ask questions. They’re Swiss.”
“Valid point.”
“But there was a man who seemed to recall some strange men settling in around the time the women vanished.”
“What men?” Anders asked, tensing. “What about them?”
“I don’t know. I got a vague description. Two of them. Tall, blonde, cold blue eyes. Doesn’t help much, but it’s all I have for now.”
It could be nothing. “Are you back in Misty Woods now?”
“Yes,” his brother answered. “Father is on a rampage.”
“About what now?”
“Estrella.”
“I will never understand how she puts up with—” Anders halted his speech. “Maximus, you need to speak with Estrella! She lived in the village before she came to marry Father! Find out what she knows, but you can’t let Father know anything about what’s going on.”
“Of course!” Max cried. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. I’ll speak with her and see if she knows anything.”
They said their goodbyes, and Anders turned away from the poolside to rejoin Sawyer in her bed.
“Who were you talking to?”
Her voice startled him, and he laughed nervously.
“My brother,” he said. “He’s in a different time zone, and he forgets that people sleep sometimes.”
Sawyer studied his face for a long moment. “You have a brother?”
“I have five brothers.” A strange expression crossed over her face, but it was gone so fast, Anders thought he might have imagined it. “Come on,” he said, offering her his arm. “Let’s go back to bed.”
He didn’t want to think about whatever Maximus was doing at that moment, but he knew he couldn’t ignore the inevitable forever. A day of reckoning was coming, and he was going to need to prepare one way or another.
Just not right now.
In the light of dawn, Anders remained awake, his mind still processing what he had learned about the women and children. If they had not started a mutiny on their own, they had been taken by others who knew about them.
Sawyer had finally fallen back asleep, and Anders watched her with affection, but his mind would not stop moving toward whatever was happening everywhere else.
We have enjoyed our time here together, but I can’t stay anymore, he thought. I need to leave today and see what else I can learn. Armageddon is upon us, and hiding out with my beautiful lover in the Hamptons will not change that while I send my brothers off investigating my whims.
A pang twanged in his gut, Sawyer’s sleeping face plucking at his heartstrings as he realized that it was going to be the first time in a fortnight since he had left her for any extended period.
Am I melancholic about leaving her or worried about leaving her? he wondered, remembering what had happened the last time he had gone without her. She almost died in my home. If anything were to happen to her, I’d never forgive myself.
But Anders realized that sitting around doing nothing was not going to ensure her safety. There was at least one dragon on the Eastern seaboard. If he found that one, it would likely lead to others. He needed to get back to Manhattan and learn everything he could about the fires that had occurred over the past weeks. If he could get a bassline on where, perhaps he could find a center point to work with.
You’re the most successful lawyer in the world. You have resources at your disposal that others do not. Between Titus’ tech savvy and your endless supply of shady informants, you can find anything.
Sawyer stirred in her sleep and stretched, her lips parting as if she was going to say something, but her lids remained together, and she settled back onto her side, curling her naked form outward like she was willing him closer in her sleep.
Anders was powerless to resist, sliding his own muscular frame toward her, his body lining up against the smooth flesh of her back to curve her against him. It would be easier to just leave without an explanation, to let her wake up and be gone. She would be safely tucked away in the Hamptons with Vander while he discovered what he needed to find.
It will be easier, he reasoned, knowing that she would not like it, but it made the most sense. He would not need to answer any questions, and she would not call him if she was angry enough. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her that there was a real fear of a dragon take-over. She would think he was insane.
I’ll tell Vander I had to go, Anders thought, and I’ll be in touch. She is too proud to call and demand why I left. The plan was growing on him. After, he could come back and explain why it was necessary. Well, maybe not really explain. He could come up with something that didn’t entail lying to her face. Who knew? Maybe one day, he could even tell her the truth.
He grimaced at the thought. Baby steps for now. You only just got her to open up to you. Don’t lose her.
Reluctantly, Anders peeled himself off her warm skin, but he could not resist watching her for a moment longer before rising from the king-sized bed and slipping into a pair of discarded jeans nearby. Slipping a t-shirt over his head, he quietly left the guesthouse and made his way to the manor, his bare feet padding across the dewy grass.
“You’re up early,” Vander chirped, eyeing him appreciatively over the newspaper from the kitchen island.
“I have to get into the city today,” Anders replied, sinking into a chair as the personal chef, Raj, turned to fix him an espresso.
“Back to it, then?” Vander commented, casting the periodical aside.
Back to something. “Yes,” Anders agreed, nodding gratefully as Raj slid the coffee toward him. “Thanks, Raj.”
“Sawyer must be disappointed. Unless you’re taking her with you?”
“I didn’t want to wake her.” He shifted his eyes down, mildly surprised by the feeling of guilt he felt by lying.
“I see.” There was a small smirk on Vander’s face, his thoughts evident, and Anders wanted to smack him.
Sawyer’s words echoed in his mind. “I also don’t care that he warned me you were going to break my heart.”
“I guess I’ll let her know, then,” Vander offered.
Anders downed his espresso in one sip. “Thanks. I’m going to borrow a car, all right?”
“Mi casa es tu casa, Anders. You know that.”
The lawyer paused and cast the man a quick look, his
eyes narrowing slightly. There was no question that the man had a crush on him, but Vander had gone over and above the call of unrequited infatuation by helping him out. It was not as if Anders did not have the means to care for himself. He would have happily stayed in Manhattan at the Plaza or Hyatt, but Vander had insisted he stay, as if he knew keeping him there would keep Sawyer happy.
And he still had no idea what a poor girl from Nashville was doing with a pretentious, gay billionaire. If it wasn’t sex or family, what else could it be?
He realized he had not given it much more thought since the night he had met Sawyer, her well-being and his growing affection for her distracting him from the original question.
“How do you know Sawyer?” he heard himself ask, determined to learn the truth before he left.
Vander was obviously taken aback by the question, and Anders’ well-honed instincts told him that he was floundering for an answer.
“Well,” he drawled slowly, clearly buying time. “It’s a rather long story, and you seem to be in a rush to leave.”
Anders’ eyes narrowed at the response, but he had to admit that if he wanted to leave without answering questions of his own, he did not have time to play games with Vander Kinrade. “Another time, then.”
Vander’s relieved look was not lost on Anders, but he rose from the stool toward the service stairs to collect his things from his room on the second floor.
“What do you want me to tell Sawyer when she wakes up?” Vander called after him.
“Tell her it’s a long story,” Anders shot back, disappearing before Vander could reply. He still heard the man release a long chuckle.
I’ll be back soon, he promised himself, though that did not stop the growing sensation of shame in his gut. He had a feeling that his abrupt departure was going to cost him something dearly. It’s for her own safety. She will eventually have to forgive me for this.
Inside the suite, he haphazardly packed a bag, unsure how long he would be gone. He could buy whatever else he needed in the city, of course, but he had other things to do than shop, and he didn’t want to bring David along. The assistant was already suspicious.
He was completely on his own this time.
How long has it been since you’ve gone out by yourself like this?
It seemed that he had been embraced by an entourage of people for decades; drivers, assistants, staff. When had he ever just gotten into a car and gotten his hands dirty, off the radar of everyone else? It was exhilarating and nerve-wracking, but it needed to be done.
I feel… alive, he realized. Anders grabbed his black duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder, casting one last look around to ensure he had not forgotten anything pertinent. Maybe I should just go look in on Sawyer one last time…
He swallowed his desire, knowing that he was looking for an excuse to stay, to prolong the inevitable. He was doing this for Sawyer. He needed to find the responsible party for causing her pain and make him suffer.
The logic in his own argument prevailed, and he spun to leave with conviction. Still, Anders could not deny that he was unhappy about walking away.
As Father would say, you must do what must be done, he thought grimly.
The fact that he was quoting his father did not make him feel any better.
15
“Darling, I know that you have Southern manners, but could you kindly use more caution on the plate?”
Sawyer looked up and scowled, deliberately dropping the fork on the china so it clattered angrily.
It had been three days since Anders had abruptly left without so much as a goodbye, and she had yet to hear a word from him. Her concern had dissolved into annoyance, which had become full-fledged ire, and Vander was the only one in sight to unleash it upon. She knew it wasn’t his fault, of course, but it didn’t stop her from being irrational.
“If my eating offends you,” she snapped, “I can retreat to my hole, and you can feed me through a slot.”
“Sawyer, I know you’re upset, dear, but this teenage rebellion thing is growing tiresome, especially when we have work to do.”
Sawyer glared at him balefully. “So now I’m just sitting around doing nothing?” she growled. “Maybe I should just go home, then.”
Vander groaned loudly and also placed his fork onto his plate, albeit with far more finesse than Sawyer had displayed.
“Is that what you want?” he demanded, his face losing its usually bemused expression, a cold look replacing it. “I can arrange for that.”
She was surprised by his tone and instantly checked her own.
“I brought you here for a purpose,” Vander continued, “not for you to sulk around. I warned you about Anders Williams, and you thought you were impervious to his charms. Look where that got you.”
Sawyer gritted her teeth, but said nothing, knowing that everything Vander said was true. She had been acting like a brat in the wake of Anders’ leaving, and she had no reason to expect her benefactor to accept it. She had agreed to find the dragons, and she had done very little research and too much moping about.
“Well?” Vander insisted when she did not answer. “Should I arrange for your flight?”
“No,” she sighed. “And you’re wrong. I have been working.” Just not at full capacity.
Gingerly, she picked up her fork and resumed eating as Vander eyed her curiously. “You have been?”
“Yes. I have been looking into the fires here in New York. The way we tracked the dragon in France was through the patterns of the fires. We managed to get a hold on the location based on the area, and I’m hoping to do the same here.”
Vander’s eyebrows rose. “And? What have you learned?”
“There’s no real rhyme or reason to the blazes,” Sawyer said. “They were all over the place and at different establishments. I feel like they were random targets.”
Vander exhaled in disappointment. “So you have nothing,” he concluded, and Sawyer bristled.
“I didn’t say that,” she replied shortly. “I’m looking at a different angle.”
Vander waited, but Sawyer suddenly wished she had not said anything at all. Some days, she felt as if she couldn’t trust the bald billionaire, as if there was something else going on beneath the surface that she didn’t understand.
Ever since he had told her the story about his lover turning on him, Sawyer could not shake the feeling that there was more to the whole ordeal, but it was not information she was going to get by asking him. She just needed to do what she did best: track the truth alone.
“What angle?” Vander grumbled, apparently not appreciating his own tactics being used on himself. He was the king of evasive answers.
“I don’t know if it’s anything yet,” she responded. “And I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Well,” he sighed. “Let me know how I can help. Obviously, all of my resources are at your disposal.”
Sawyer’s dark eyes darted downward, and she swallowed the question burning the insides of her mouth. A part of her wondered if Vander had driven Anders out of the house, but the notion was ridiculous. Anders was a grown man. He was not going to be bullied by Vander Kinrade, no matter what.
Nothing happened except that Vander’s prophecy came true, she thought. Anders must have been laughing at me when I told him that Vander warned me about him. I’m such an idiot.
“Sawyer, I know you’re upset,” Vander offered tentatively. “But the best thing you can do right now is put all that energy into something constructive. Like finding Hemming.”
Her head jerked up, and she looked at him. “You know it’s Hemming we’re looking for?”
Vander seemed to realize his gaffe and quickly shook his head.
“Well, no—I—ah, it could be anyone in his weyr. I just had Hemming on my mind, I suppose, in light of what happened with Anders.”
Sawyer’s jaw locked, and she continued to stare at Vander, her mind whirling. She had been right. Hemming broke Vander’s heart, but the similar
ities between Anders and Hemming ended there. Anders was not a cold-blooded dragon, a killer of the innocent. Hemming was a monster. Why would Vander ever compare the two?
Again, Sawyer was plagued by the sensation that there was much more going on than she understood.
“I’m going back to the guesthouse,” she announced, placing her napkin on the table and rising. “I just want to check on something.”
“Of course,” Vander agreed, appearing grateful that she was leaving. “Let me know if you need anything.”
She nodded and retreated through the back of the massive house toward the double French doors that led to the conservatory. The last of the afternoon sun had given way to evening, and as she burst through the doors into the yard, Sawyer inhaled the sweetness of the late spring air.
A pang of sadness swept through her, but she immediately silenced it, determined not to think about Anders in any form that night.
How hard would it have been to say goodbye if he had to go? How hard would it have been to send me a damn text?
“Stop it!” she growled to herself out loud, hoping the words would make her stop missing him. It seemed to help a small bit.
When she retreated to the living room of the guesthouse for her laptop, it wasn’t there.
That’s weird, Sawyer thought to herself.
A quick search of the guesthouse proved fruitless, but when she retraced her steps back out to the poolside, the silver device sat closed on a stone table.
Sawyer’s eyes darted up, and she looked around, her pulse quickening. She was certain she had not left it there. She hadn’t even been sitting on that side of the water that day.
Someone had been looking through the laptop.
A twinge of uncertainty slid through her, and she gazed about again, the hairs on her arms rising as she wondered if she was being watched. There was really only one person who would have any interest in what she was looking for, but she had already discussed everything with Vander. Why would he be spying on her?
Moreover, how long had he been spying on her?