by Lisa Oliver
“Send me the recording.” Ice slammed his case lid shut. If he’d forgotten anything, he could buy it, and besides, he had everything he needed at the safe house.
“He knows he has a mate,” Petrov persisted. “And when he meets you, he’s going to know you knew about him for five fucking years. I’m sure you’ll be able to get him to forgive you, if you suck his dick long enough, but what about me? He’ll know I’ve been spying on him. I’ll lose my job, my pension, everything I’ve built up since I got here.”
“You only got that job in the first place because of the falsifications I made to your resume, when I needed someone in that company. The mate aspect was a complication I could have done without.” Ice scowled, remembering how his animal sides had almost come unglued when Petrov had met up with him smelling of candy apples and spice. It’d been a long five years since, but he wasn’t known as the Ice King for nothing.
“Ice, what if…”
“I told you never to use my name on the phone, you eejit.” Ice scowled at the piece of technology in his hand, annoyed at how his carefully crafted plans were falling apart. “I said I was on my way. I’ll handle it. You just get him to the rendezvous point. Don’t let me down.”
Disconnecting the call, Ice fumed as he stuffed the phone into his inside jacket pocket, snatched up his bag and headed out of the door. The serviced apartment was functional and contained the barest of essentials. There was nothing left behind associated with him, and Ice knew he wouldn’t be back.
Damn stalker upsetting all my plans. Ice strode down the long, dimly hit hallway, avoiding the elevator and taking the stairs. What did you do? He railed silently at Byron. All you had to do was lie low, do your job, and fucking keep your hands off other people. Ice didn’t think it was too much to ask – it’d been what he’d been mostly doing after all. But Byron admitting to seeing him all those years ago was a wrinkle Ice hadn’t predicted.
He couldn’t have scented me… Ice’s boots clattered down the concrete stairs. If he’d scented me, he’d have come after me. His dragon wouldn’t have given him any choice.
This, Ice knew from experience. After catching the unusual scent on his brother, slamming him up the wall, and getting the whole story, Ice went dark from his assignment for three days so he could catch a glimpse of the dragon Petrov talked about.
It hadn’t been difficult – the security at the Hollingsworth company was ludicrous, especially with Petrov in charge of it. But one glance at Byron, the one the Fates thought was perfect for him, and Ice walked away, words like paper pusher and over-privileged weakling, running through his head. Byron wasn’t even the eldest son, he was the middle son, so not even his company connections could be useful.
And now you’ve gone and got yourself a damn stalker. Pushing open the door at the bottom of the stairs, Ice stormed outside, slinging his bag at the man waiting for him. “Airport. Now.” He got in the back of the car without any assistance, his fingers tapping on the window frame.
I should just leave him to it, Ice thought as the driver’s door slammed shut and the car moved out of the alley. It was tempting, so tempting. Ice had a dozen deals in a dozen countries he was working on, and the last thing he needed was to babysit his mate. But the heart being sent to his mate’s home address was slightly concerning… okay, Ice admitted to himself, a lot concerning, not least because Byron didn’t have a clue who was responsible, and neither did Petrov. Besides which, a weak paper-pusher wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of protecting himself if he was attacked.
And there was a part in Ice’s heart, a teeny-tiny, he wouldn’t even admit it was there, part, that knew his assignments wouldn’t last forever, and he’d be looking to retire. That was when he intended on making himself known to his mate. He’d imagined the scenario a million times – how it would play out in five-years time, maybe ten. Walking into the Hollingsworth company, his dragon would be stunned speechless – falling into the arms of his older, and far more accomplished mate.
Ice had it all planned. He’d keep his mate in one of his more luxurious houses, and when he got itchy feet, he could travel – maybe even take his mate with him every now and then. Not too often though. Even retired, Ice knew he’d have a reputation to maintain and it wouldn’t do for anyone to think he was getting mushy.
And now this stalker has gone and fucked things up. It had crossed Ice’s paranoid mind that maybe the stalking had something to do with him and his business, but he’d dismissed that readily enough. No one knew about his connection with the dragon except Petrov and his brother wouldn’t tell. He has too much to lose.
Looking out the window, Ice saw the car was about ten minutes out from the airport. Pulling out his phone, he hit speed dial four. “Nikita. Report,” he snapped when the call was answered.
“You have thirty-six hours before the window of opportunity closes.” The sultry female voice with the slight Russian accent belied a mind like a steel trap. “Twenty-four would be better, but I’d been given to understand you were traveling…”
“I can do twenty-four hours.” Ice juggled the time-zones and flying distances in his head. Fuck, no I can’t, unless... “I can do twenty-four hours. I’ll be there in twenty-two. Make sure everything’s ready for me.”
“When have I ever let you down, darling?” Nikita laughed as she disconnected the call.
Ice hit speed dial six. Petrov’s phone rang seven times before it went to voice mail. Ice disconnected the call and tapped the edge of the phone case, still organizing plans in his head, and discarding them as fast as he made them. The only way he could meet Petrov, get his dragon installed in the safe house, and be back in Germany before his deadline was up was to trust Petrov to be on time.
I don’t trust him enough. He doesn’t have the ruthlessness to abduct my mate if he doesn’t want to come along quietly. The bright lights shining in the car window let him know they’d arrived at the airport. The car made its way around to the private hangers. Flicking through his contacts, Ice clicked on the one for his pilot. “Change of plans,” he said when the call was answered. “Lay in flight plans for Germany. We’ll swing by New York on the way back, tomorrow.”
“Yes sir.”
Ice pocketed his phone. There was no point in calling Petrov again. The man knew what had to be done, and if Ice didn’t show up when agreed, then his brother would have enough sense to keep the dragon safe. It was only for twenty-four hours. Pleased he wasn’t missing out on the important things he had to do, Ice got out of the car as soon as it stopped, eager to get on his way.
Chapter Six
Byron smiled and nodded his thanks as the hostess topped up his wine glass. He didn’t have an issue with dining alone, and the restaurant situated in the ground level of the building Dirk’s apartment was in, gave him the perfect place to be out, while not being unsafe about it. It was late. Many of the diners had already finished up for the night, but once the fox shifter hostess caught a whiff of Byron’s scent that was all he needed to secure a table in a quiet spot, and ready service. Sometimes it paid to be an apex shifter.
Leaning back in his chair, Byron slowly let out a long breath, as he rested his hands on the table. I’m just being paranoid, he told himself sternly, even though he’d felt as if someone had been watching him every time he’d left his office. Paranoia aside, he still let his gaze casually wander slowly over the remaining patrons; neither he nor his dragon were sensing anything amiss, but that feeling of being watched remained.
Going out was a rebellious act of sorts. Dirk had called in, catching Byron just before he left the office, with yet another invitation to dinner. Byron had begged off, claiming he was taking work home, or rather to Dirk’s apartment, and he planned an early night. When Jon looked as though he’d press the issue, Byron murmured something along the lines of how traumatic the night before had been, and how he hadn’t had much sleep. That was all it took for the loving couple to leave him alone.
But Byron was restle
ss and the thought of sitting alone in his brother’s apartment didn’t sit well with him. The restaurant gave him the perfect opportunity to wile away a few hours, and hopefully the wine would help him sleep. Reaching down for his briefcase, Byron took out his tablet, content to read while he waited for his food.
The pasta was perfectly seasoned, and the accompanying chicken and mushrooms were moist and succulent. Byron was debating his dessert choices when someone cleared their throat in front of him. Looking up, he was surprised to see Merv, one of the fired employees Byron had mentioned to the detectives earlier that day. The man looked good in his sharply pressed suit, and the twink under his arm kept looking at him adoringly.
“Mr. Hollingsworth,” Merv said, with a slight twist of his lips. “I thought it was you, dining alone. Do you mind if me and my companion join you for a few minutes?”
Byron’s first inclination was to ignore the man and get up and leave. He couldn’t think of anything Merv might have to say to him. But good manners and a larger dose of curiosity than he should have had, made him nod and indicate the two chairs across from him.
“You’re looking well,” he said politely, purely because he didn’t know what else to say.
“You can thank my little sassy boy for that.” Merv smiled indulgently at the twink who still hadn’t let go of his arm. “Randy here quite literally saved me. After rightfully losing my job, it didn’t take long for an eviction notice to appear on my apartment door. I was standing on the sidewalk with my belongings around my feet, wondering where on earth I was going to go when Randy’s car slammed into me – knocked me right off my feet.”
“You knocked me off mine, the moment I saw those brilliant eyes of yours,” Randy purred. “I just knew I couldn’t let a gorgeous hunk of manhood like you go.”
A flash of discomfort crossed Merv’s face, disappearing so quickly, Byron wondered if he’d actually seen it. “That’s why it was so fortuitous running into you, Mr. Hollingsworth, sir. Randy’s father owns ShiftCom, and Randy recommended me for a job there as an IT consultant. It’s just a formality, but I was hoping if I could get a reference from yourself, it would improve my chances.”
“I don’t know why you want the silly job anyway.” Randy pouted, running his fingers up Merv’s arm. “All you need to do is sink those delicious teeth into my neck and you’ll never have to work again.”
Byron put his hand over his mouth and coughed politely. The discomfort on Merv’s face was unmistakable this time. Merv had been part of Byron’s father’s efforts to steal from the company, more in that he was too busy getting laid to pay attention with what was going on with the computer codes. But aside from that and his philandering on company time, he wasn’t a bad employee. As Byron hadn’t been totally innocent in the whole scheme either, swayed by the need to make his father proud of him for once, he could manage a bit of compassion for the situation Merv found himself in.
“Have the HR department of ShiftCom call my office number. It’s on the website. I’ll make sure you get a good reference from the Hollingsworth family.” Byron allowed himself a small smirk as Randy’s pout grew more accentuated. ShiftCom was a big company, but the Hollingsworth family name was far more reputable, and their company posted more profits than any other in New York.
“Thank you, Mr. Hollingsworth, sir.” Merv’s face lit up and Byron could see what his cousin Jeremy and his brother Samuel had seen in the man. “We won’t disturb you any further but thank you, thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Not a problem, Merv,” Byron grinned wider as Merv dragged Randy away. “Anything to keep you from having to mate someone to pay the bills,” he muttered under his breath. Randy would find out soon enough, just how allergic Merv was to the idea of commitment.
His desire for dessert gone, Byron lifted a discreet finger for the check, making sure he left a substantial tip. Dirk had an impressive coffee machine in the apartment. Sliding his tablet into his briefcase, he left his napkin next to his plate, and walked out of the restaurant and back into the lobby, heading for the elevators at the back of the building.
Pressing the call button, Byron stood and waited, both hands around his briefcase handle. The elevator doors just opened when he heard his name being called.
“Mr. Hollingsworth. Byron.”
Fucking Petrov, he doesn’t give up. Byron ignored the man, stepping into the elevator and pressing the code necessary to get to the penthouse apartment. The doors closed silently as Petrov came running towards them. A loud thump sounded on the lift doors as it lurched and started its ascent. Byron hummed in time with the piped music until the car lurched to a stop.
Flicking his eyes upwards, Byron could see they were only on the twelfth floor. Frowning, he punched in the code for the penthouse a bit harder this time, stepping to one side as the elevator doors opened.
“Excuse me,” a voice that sounded slightly familiar said, as a jacket covered arm brushed past his.
“Of course.” Byron felt a prick on the back of his hand and stared at the syringe sticking out of it. “What the…”
His eyes rolled back, and Byron fell to the floor. A smug chuckle was heard over the elevator music.
Chapter Seven
The job went perfectly, not that Ice expected anything less. As he settled in the plane seat for the second time in twenty-four hours, he pulled his phone out of his inside pocket, and switched it on. He frowned as it exploded in a hail of bleeps, dings, and missed call notifications. Without looking at them, Ice hit the speed dial for Nikita. “What’s wrong?”
“Why, hello, darling, is this a social call?” Nikita’s chuckle sounded like diamond cutting glass.
Ice looked at his phone and checked the messages. “Wrong number,” he said tersely, disconnecting before Nikita could ask him any questions. He hit another number.
“What the hell?” If Petrov was calling to complain because the dragon was being demanding, Ice was going to wring his neck.
“He’s gone.” Petrov’s frantic tone was genuine.
“Explain. I’m on the plane. I will be there,” Ice checked his watch, “in two hours.”
“There’s no point in coming here,” Petrov hissed. “I didn’t get him, and this morning Dirk was in a panic. The whole clan is in an uproar. The dragon is missing.”
“I told you to apprehend and keep him ready for me.” Ice could feel his animal sides warring for dominance inside of him. “How did this happen?”
“He evaded me. I was trying to get a handle on the stalker, believing the dragon to be safe at the restaurant he was dining at. I lost the stalker’s trail, and by the time I got back to the building, the dragon was already in the elevator. I called out to him, but he ignored me, or couldn’t hear me, I don’t know. But the dragon didn’t make it to the penthouse suite and his briefcase was left on the floor of the elevator.”
“He’s been taken.” The bottom dropped out of Ice’s stomach. “You were supposed to be watching him, to make sure shit like this did not happen, and he got taken anyway.”
“Don’t put this on me,” Petrov said hotly. “I wasn’t the one who avoided their mate for five years because they had better things to do, and it wasn’t my job to look out for one freaking dragon, it was yours. I warned you when the first notes started coming into the office. I told you the situation escalated with that package delivery at his house. You were supposed to be here last night. Where were you?”
Ice didn’t feel guilt ever. If he allowed himself one time, he’d be drowning in it. But Petrov’s pointed comments made him uneasy. “I trusted you to keep him safe until I could get there.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a fan of kidnapping someone who eventually, when my dipshit brother gets his head out of his ass, will be considered family.”
Ice ignored his brother’s comments. Petrov could get a bit hotheaded at times and any reference to family was a joke. “The dragons – why is the brother Dirk in a tizzy? Byron is part
of the clan. The other dragons will know where he is because they can all communicate with each other.”
“That is why the older brother is in a tizzy – none of the dragons can reach Byron’s animal spirit, and no one saw Byron being removed from the building. But he’s definitely gone. Every room, closet, and apartment in the whole building has been searched.”
His heart stilled. Ice knew that was something that happened automatically if a knife was shoved in it and twisted, but he was still breathing. Barely. “I want to know everything, every detail anyone has on what he was doing prior to the abduction, right up until he got in that elevator.”
“Why? Do you care now? You know there are only two reasons why a dragon couldn’t talk to his clan.”
Ice checked his watch. “I’ll be there in one hour and fifty minutes. Make sure my car is there to pick me up. I’ll want to go to the dragon’s last location.”
“You can’t…”
Disconnecting the call, Ice struggled to work out how he felt. The dragon, his mate, technically wasn’t his problem. They hadn’t officially met. Byron claimed he’d seen him… Pulling up his message app, Ice found the recording Petrov sent him the day before. Tapping his ear bud to connect to his phone, Ice leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he listened to the dragon’s voice explain why he didn’t have any exes or hook-ups that could be stalking him.
“…You’re going to think I’m a foolish dragon but ten years and four months ago I did spot a man in a crowded bar in Washington. I only saw him briefly, I didn’t scent him, and unfortunately, I couldn’t stay to get to know him. But I wondered then if he was my mate, even before I knew I could have one. I’ve never stopped thinking about him. The man I asked out five years later, had a passing resemblance to that stranger, and… I guess I was at a very lonely place in my life right then. But the refusal was a good thing for me. There’s nothing worse than being entangled with someone else when your mate shows up, so I’ve chosen to have no intimate relations with anyone at all since that time. I want to be someone he can be proud of when we finally cross paths again…”