Claim the Dragon

by A. C. Arthur

  He rubbed the back of his head, blunt-tipped nails causing a crunchy sound as they moved over his low-cut bristly gray hair. “You got that right. And I’ve got witnesses that I delivered the message so I’m safe.”

  Ravyn smiled. They were all safe down here. That’s what she’d always wanted. Somewhere they could live and not worry about being harassed in any way by the corrupt government that existed aboveground. She was helping the people down here and she was helping herself, something her father never thought she’d do.

  “I’ll go see Lorna in a little while and let her know I’ve received the message and that I’ll take heed to her words. Then I want to get into the supply room and get things organized. We’ll have to stock up for the winter months and I don’t want to have to go in there and rearrange things the moment we bring more boxes inside,” she said.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Maurio continued, “That supermarket down on Sprayson Street’s going out of business. Can’t afford the property taxes, I heard. So, we should definitely get down there in the next few days to get some stuff. I’m sure they’ll be tossing things out.”

  Maurio and a few others kept their ear to the streets above. She didn’t know how and never asked as long as it didn’t endanger anyone down here. But his information about upcoming things was always good.

  “Yeah, let’s plan to do that next week, maybe Sunday night when they close early,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment this afternoon so I’m gonna go see Lorna and grab some breakfast. I’ll meet you guys in the storage room in an hour.”

  Ravyn walked away after getting nods from Jorge and Maurio. She didn’t look at Cree because she knew he’d still be frowning. When she’d first met Cree he’d talked a lot about feelings he had about things or visions he used to have when he was a young boy and how his father had threatened to beat that foolish talk out of his head. Smart kid that he was, Cree stopped talking about anything that wasn’t considered normal, until he met her, probably because she listened. She never believed, but she let him speak and never acted as if he were crazy for thinking he’d seen, heard or even felt things that others didn’t. Even though, she, like his father, didn’t believe in any of that kind of stuff.

  * * *

  At five o’clock on Friday afternoon, Ravyn walked through the door of the Meren Hotel. She took the elevator up to the twenty-fifth floor and walked down the hallway until she arrived at room 708. She paused a moment before knocking, asking herself for the billionth time since this morning if this was the right move to make.

  It was the only move.

  That answer came each time she asked.

  After another deep, cleansing breath, she lifted her hand and knocked. The door opened quickly, as if he’d been standing right behind it waiting for her.

  “Come in,” he said, and once again she found herself following his directions.

  That wasn’t something she planned to keep doing. Controlling men weren’t her thing.

  “I’ve written down my account number. On your statement you may notice the account’s not in my name. Don’t be alarmed, it’s fine. I’ll get the money.”

  She was following him through the plush suite. The beige carpet was so thick and soft beneath her steps, walls were covered partially in a pale gold wallpaper, while the other half were painted the lightest of cream hues. The furniture in the seating area matched the pale tone with glass end tables and gold lamps. Steele was dressed in black slacks and a black button-front shirt, a very dark and brooding contrast to the light décor.

  “I have my computer all set up to make the transfer,” he told her and went to sit at a desk near the window.

  The curtains were pulled closed where she probably would have left them open. For all that she detested the people running this city, she loved its beautiful nighttime skyline. As it was getting dark earlier now, the lights on the buildings and streetlights would just be switching on, like the city was coming to life.

  She went to stand next to the desk and pulled the piece of paper out of her back pocket, setting it on the desk next to his tablet. He reached for it before she could release it and their hands touched. She looked at him and he looked up at her.

  Were there supposed to be more sparks, like there’d been last night and that night on the roof? There was definitely a reaction on both their parts, but she wouldn’t classify it as sparks, not this time.

  “Half a million dollars,” he said as he eased the paper from her grasp.

  “Half a million dollars,” she repeated and pulled her hand back slowly, still wondering about the uncanny warmth that was now hovering between them. Not sure what to do with her hands now, she tucked them in her back pockets.

  He set the paper closer to the tablet and began typing on the flat keyboard stretched along the desk.

  “So how is it that you have so much money to just give away?” She’d told herself repeatedly that none of this mattered. That this was just like conducting a deal with Happy down at the pawn shop. An amount was agreed upon, money and item exchanged hands, done and on to the next one. But after last night, she wanted to know more about this man.

  “I work a full-time job and I save my money. Isn’t that what everyone does?”

  “Not if twenty-five percent of your earnings, after federal and state taxes, are being stolen by the corrupt enforcers walking these streets.”

  “How can they steal your money?”

  “Easy, hold a gun to your head and say ‘give it up, or die.’”

  He stopped typing and looked up at her. “Is that what they did to you?”

  She thought about lying or dodging the question because this wasn’t supposed to be another conversation about her, but she did the opposite of what made sense. Something she’d been doing a lot of lately.

  “Yeah, it is. Until they decided burning down my store would be better since I always put up a fight.”

  “That’s illegal. Them, taking your money, not you putting up a fight.”

  She was glad he’d clarified that. “Obviously not, when the corruption stretches all the way up to the mayor, senators and everybody else who has money and power in Burgess. Or wherever else, since I suspect this is a growing trend all over the world.”

  He didn’t reply but went back to typing.

  “So, you’ve saved half a million dollars and now you’re just gonna hand it over to me. Just like that.” It didn’t make sense.

  He looked up, one brow arched as he said, “You want me to keep my money?”

  She smirked. “You know I need the money, don’t play.”

  He shrugged. “Then take it and don’t worry about anything else. There. It’s done.”

  Ravyn pulled her phone out of her back pocket and logged into her account. Damn, all those zeroes looked good. Too good.

  “Do you know my father? Did he put you up to this to prove his point that I’d never amount to anything on my own?” It irritated the hell out of her to ask those questions, but she couldn’t let the niggling thought that this was an insanely convenient business deal go.

  Once again, he was staring at her as if he were trying to figure something out, which would mean he didn’t know the infamous General Walsh. Or it would indicate that he was a damn good actor.

  “I can assure you that I’ve never talked to or met your father, Ravyn. Now, I’ve done my part. Give me the dagger,” he said as he stood from the chair.

  He wasn’t lying about doing his part, but she still doubted he was telling her everything. She didn’t know how she knew but she did, still, she put her phone away and removed her backpack. Taking her gaze off him, she set the backpack on the table, unzipped it and pulled out the dagger she’d once again wrapped in the green material. That humming sounded in her ears again. She hadn’t heard it recently, or if she had, she hadn’t noticed, but now it was so loud she stumbled back a step an
d slapped one hand to her ear.

  “You okay?” Steele asked, coming to stand closer and touching a hand to her elbow.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said and eased her arm away from him. Another thing she’d told herself on the way over here was that she couldn’t touch this guy again and he couldn’t touch her. Whatever last night was, it was one and done.

  “Okay, I’m gonna go and get a box for it. I’m not carrying around that Christmas-green cloth.”

  “It’s a lovely piece of material that I found in the antiques shop,” she yelled to him as he disappeared into the other room.

  She continued to unwrap the dagger and picked it up. Heat formed in the palms of her hands as she held it and experienced a complete body shiver, from her neck down to her ankles.

  “Here we go, I’ll just keep it in here.”

  “What are you going to do with it?” she asked without making any move to hand it to him.

  He looked at her for a couple quiet seconds and then shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a museum that’ll be glad to take it. Or I’ll find another private collector.”

  “You’re not giving it back to the senator?”

  “No,” Steele said. “Definitely not.”

  Ravyn was about to ask him why, because she sensed his response meant more than just giving the rightful owner back his dagger, but there was a loud screeching sound and she dropped the dagger to the floor to slap both hands to her ears this time.

  Steele heard the noise too because she could see him turn around quickly, his facial features changing from resting to almost crazed in seconds. On the next screech there was a gust of wind and strong arms grabbed Ravyn. She immediately turned lifting her leg for a quick kick and swinging to land a punch. But that punch did nothing because the person who was wrapped in some dirty-looking strips of cloth with eerie green eyes came at her again.

  Screaming came to mind. Also running. But something about those eyes struck her as familiar, just as something about the way this person was moving reminded her of some of the people she’d been seeing on the street lately. Whatever. With fists raised, Ravyn went in for another punch, landing it successfully but then being swept up off her feet by another one of these things.

  She fell quickly to the floor when Steele must have intervened because the person made an awful howling sound and then released her. Ravyn went right back to the other one, this time picking up a lamp and hurling it at the person’s head. It reached out a hand, almost in slow motion, but fast enough to catch it.

  “Who the hell are they?” she heard herself ask but hadn’t really expected an answer.

  Instead she saw Steele swoop in and lift the person up over his head, twisting their body until it exploded in a puff of dust. She coughed and stumbled back, her eyes watered as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Her throat was suddenly tight as one of them wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her back. It was strong. Even as she smacked at the arm that held her, it lifted her off the floor. She flailed and tried to buck her body forward, to flip it over her and gain control, but it wasn’t working.

  That’s when the humming in her ears increased, piercing her eardrums until she felt like her body was being sawed in half by the sharp sound. Her eyes popped open at that moment, but her pupils felt different, bigger, warmer, if that made sense. She stopped struggling against whoever was holding her and stared across the room, through the dust, until her gaze focused on the dagger glowing bright against the dark green material.

  Mine. She heard a woman’s voice say, but could only see the dagger. It belongs to me.

  “No!” Ravyn screamed the one word and the dagger moved on the table. It trembled, or was that the entire room shaking as if Burgess was experiencing an earthquake?

  The arms around her grew tighter, but it didn’t matter, she willed herself to move, to get closer to her dagger and to her surprise it worked. She felt herself and the thing holding on to her drifting across the room toward the table where the dagger sat.

  You cannot beat me. I will destroy you.

  “Take your best shot,” Ravyn quipped before reaching out her hand and watching as the dagger lifted from the table to float the rest of the distance and plop into her hand. When she closed her fingers around the hilt, her body warmed and something filled her, something new but old, strong and powerful.

  She pulled the dagger from its sheath, turned it around and thrust her hand back, plunging the blade into the stomach of the one holding her. It would have made complete sense if she’d immediately fallen to the ground when the thing practically disappeared, but she didn’t. Instead, she sheathed the dagger as her body eased slowly to the floor.

  The floor that was shaking uncontrollably. Instinct, or the familiar scent that seemed to be magnified a thousand times so that it now penetrated her lungs, had Ravyn turning around. More of those things were coming through the walls. They walked in tight lines, arms and legs moving like soldiers, strips of what looked like dirty rags hanging from their fingers and feet.

  “What the hell?” Steele appeared in front of her at that moment. She had no idea what direction he’d come from but the breadth of his body blocked those things from her sight. She would have been relieved, would have blinked to clear her mind and remind herself once again that she didn’t believe in curses, powers or any of the other freaky things whispered around Burgess. There were only humans, good and bad, nothing more. Until there was more.

  Steele’s sunglasses were gone—they hadn’t been there when she came in. But now his eyes were different—they weren’t root beer–brown like they’d been last night. They were orange, bright beautiful orange and his body was...changing.

  “Hold on.” Two words, that’s all he had to say.

  Ravyn opened her mouth to ask what the hell was happening here, who was he, who were they and a whole host of other questions, but in the next seconds she was lifted from the floor once again and covered by something dark and metallic. And then she was moving, until her stomach plummeted the way it did when she used to ride a roller coaster as a kid. Air whizzed around her, cool against her warm skin and the burning hot surface she was now sitting on. Her fingers closed tightly around the dagger once more, ready to do another slice and dice if need be, but something held her back. That scent and this thing she sat on, they were both familiar. They were both...it was too dark to see anymore, the air around pounding too hard into her lungs for her to focus, her eyelids too heavy to keep open. She fell back and didn’t feel herself landing. Her eyes closed but she’d already stopped seeing. The humming in her ears ceased but the feeling that there was something else inside her persisted. It held on and so did she.

  Chapter Nine

  The beast let her down gently, unfurling its massive wing until she rolled off and came up on her knees on the grassy ground.

  Walk away.

  It wasn’t trying to listen to his directives, which wasn’t unusual after the shift had occurred. Steele’s relationship with his beast—the dragon that was now at its full length and breadth standing regally in the center of the open area specifically designed for them at the Office—had been rocky these past few weeks.

  Walk away.

  Because she shouldn’t be here. She was a human and she probably didn’t believe in curses or anything preternatural. Even if she did believe, she still didn’t belong here and she definitely didn’t need to be face-to-face with his beast. The beast that didn’t move.

  It wanted to be near her, now and always. No matter how much Steele pushed against that notion.

  “What the hell are you? How did I get here? Where is here?”

  Her questions were coming fast as she moved to stand and then backed up. Both hands at her sides, and he saw the way she gripped the dagger, ready to use it if need be.

  He wanted to answer her, to tell her to calm down and let him explain, but how the
hell did someone explain that they were born a Drakon, a magical dragon from the Far Realm—a place she’d probably never heard of before?

  The beast wanted to explain something else. Its body filling completely with something deeper than simple recognition. There was a connection, it swirled around the beast’s body and mind, holding it in a trance as it continued to stand there, unmoving. It had selected her to be his. Steele cringed with the thought.

  When the beast still didn’t move, Ravyn pulled the dagger free.

  “I’m dreaming. I’ve got to be dreaming,” she was saying even as she backed farther away.

  The beast took a step toward her, ready to act, to claim, and she dropped the bravado, turning and running as fast as she could. She wouldn’t go far. The open area stretched for about twenty acres. Beyond that area was thickly forested, the greenery serving as a life-sized fence. Through a path in the forest was a creek and beyond that creek was the mountain where the Office had been built. At the Office were his fellow Drakons, the ones who no doubt knew he was here and in this form.

  Steele forced the shift, ignoring the action the beast had been about to take, pressing with every bit of the strength which remained stored in his human form. He bullied the beast, asserting his leadership over his preternatural form until he was standing with his bare feet in the grass, his naked ass tingling as the breeze blew.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Crap! If there were anybody Steele didn’t need to see in this moment, it was Reese.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Answering a question with a question wasn’t usually his style, but neither was flying in and not landing a little closer to the forest so he could easily make his way to his suite and his clothes.

  Reese stood with his legs slightly parted, arms folded over his muscled chest. “It looks like you’re about to start freezing your balls off since the temps dropped significantly after sunset.”

  Steele didn’t bother to look down, there was no need to verify what Reese was saying. “I’m going to my room.”