The Dragon CEO's Assistant (Dreamspun Beyond Book 39)

by Jenn Burke

  “What about Hough?” Aidan demanded.

  “Squeaky clean and dumb as a brick.”

  Aidan bristled. He liked Detective Hough, dammit.

  “What did you hit them with?” Aidan nodded at the motionless dragons.

  “Spelled rocks. You learn a few things when you’re a human working for these guys, eh?” Morgan nudged the foot of one of the dragons closest to him. “So what are you up to?” he asked Ryan.

  “Getting out from under my grandfather’s thumb.”

  Morgan snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “Once I have the Kader torque—”

  “Is that what this is about?” Morgan flicked his eyes between Ryan and Aidan. “I get it. Aidan’s a plant.”

  “Wow. You should be, like, a detective or something,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes as the elevator reached the penthouse level. “Yeah, Aidan was a plant… until he grew a conscience or a heart or some bullshit. Then—whoops—he tripped onto a knife and his human form went poof. No more memories. It’s his thing.”

  Morgan had them drag the unconscious dragons out of the elevator so Claude and the guards would remain oblivious to what was going on. Once that was done, Ryan let out a long, slow whistle at the opulent surroundings. “Nice,” he murmured, nodding in approval. “I can see why you hooked up with Kader.”

  Aidan didn’t rise to the bait. At some point he’d decided he wouldn’t give Ryan the satisfaction of reacting to his digs. But he wondered, had he reacted before? Before he lost his memories, had he realized that the relationship he had with Ryan was abusive? Or was this a new development since he cut off contact with Ryan months before?

  No—he wasn’t going to fucking justify Ryan’s behavior.

  Aidan hung back until Morgan used his gun to motion him forward. “I don’t get it,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re going to let him continue?”

  “If he wants to incriminate himself, who am I to argue? Andel suspected Ryan was up to something, but I didn’t make the connection between you and him. He was smart to keep you out of sight,” Morgan said. “So I’ll let him get the torque, and then we can all go have a chat with Andel.”

  “I’ve had chats with my grandfather before,” Ryan said. “No thanks.”

  “Like you have a fucking choice—”

  They all froze at the sound of quick footsteps in the upstairs hall.

  Oh God, please no.

  “I thought I heard the elevator,” Nassim was saying as he moved into sight. “I flew back, hoping I’d catch you. Merry gods, Aidan, I—” He stopped at the top stair, and the smile dropped from his face as he spotted Ryan, Morgan, and Morgan’s gun.

  Ryan was quick to jerk Aidan backward, pull out a gun, and ram it against Aidan’s temple. “Well, well. When I heard you, I thought, shit. But this might be the best all around. It’ll save us some time, right, Aidan?”

  Nassim’s face lost all expression. “What is going on? Aidan?”

  “This is Ryan Dolan, bastard grandson of Andel Červeny.”

  Nassim’s expression darkened at Aidan’s introduction. “The Ryan that’s supposed to be your friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the detective?”

  “He works for the Červeny clan.”

  Dragonfire flared in Nassim’s dark eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep and gravelly, closer to the rumble of his dragon. “Is Červeny looking for war?”

  Morgan lifted one hand from the gun to hold it up in a stop gesture. “All I want is to bring Ryan and Aidan to have a chat with my boss.”

  “Why?” Nassim demanded. “Aidan is mine.”

  Aidan’s heart leapt at Nassim’s declaration but quickly dropped hard. He was part of Nassim’s hoard, nothing more. Nassim had made it clear he didn’t want Aidan as a mate. He took as deep a breath as he dared and let it out slowly. Now was not the time to worry about mates or anything but getting out of here alive.

  “Aidan is so not yours,” Ryan said, a sneer in his voice. “He’s been my hoard for twelve years, and I’m not giving him up.” He nudged the gun against Aidan’s temple, making his head tilt. “Go on, Aidan. Tell him. I wanna watch his face when he learns the truth.” When Aidan hesitated, Ryan slammed the muzzle into his temple and yelled, “Tell him!”

  Aidan closed his eyes. Ryan might want to watch Nassim’s expression, but he didn’t. “Ryan arranged for you to hire me. He forged my résumé and slept with the head of your HR department to make sure I got put to the top of the pile without reference checks. I was supposed to get close to you and steal the Kader torque.”

  “You… remember all of this?”

  Aidan’s eyes snapped open. “No. I remember none of it.”

  “Then how—”

  “He told me. And showed me a video of the two of us talking about it.” This was the hard part to admit. “It feels like the truth.”

  Nassim nodded, acknowledging that point. “But you didn’t steal it. You had plenty of opportunity, but you didn’t.”

  “No. The asshole cut off contact with me instead,” Ryan growled.

  “I met him that night,” Aidan said quickly, knowing Nassim would know which night he meant. “He stabbed me.”

  Ryan pressed the gun harder into Aidan’s head. “Shut up.”

  “He stabbed me and I died,” Aidan continued, his eyes on Nassim. “But I came back to you. I will always—”

  “Shut up!” Ryan changed the position of the arm holding Aidan to cut off his air. “I want the torque, Kader.”

  Fire burned brighter in Nassim’s eyes. “And I want Aidan.”

  “You know that’s not his name, right?” Ryan taunted. “It’s just a name we came up with for this job.”

  “Then what is his name?”

  “How the fuck should I know? He’s probably had hundreds. Thousands. You know this is what he looked like when I met him. He’s immortal.”

  “Spirits usually are, yes.”

  Ryan loosened his arm for an instant when Nassim didn’t rise to his bait, and Aidan sucked in as much air as he could.

  “Torque, Kader. Now.”

  Nassim started down the stairs, slowly, his hands up. “What’s your plan? To show Duke Rudel the torque and brag about how you got it?”

  “You don’t need to talk. You just need to get me what the fuck I want.”

  “I’ve been friends with Rudy for three centuries. How do you think he’ll react to seeing you holding my family’s torque?”

  “He’ll be impressed. They all will.”

  “He’ll be pissed,” Nassim corrected with a smirk. “They all will.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Rudy will be angry you stole from me. And your grandfather? He’ll be upset that you brought his clan and mine that much closer to all-out war.”

  Aidan could feel trembles in the arm around his throat.

  “You think a piece of gold jewelry will protect you from the shitstorm you’re about to stir up?”

  “Just get me the goddamn torque!”

  “I simply want you to understand that what you think is going to happen once you get this symbol is not reality.” Nassim reached the bottom of the stairs and continued into the living area, walking backward. “The reality is that the duke will be offended on my behalf, and your grandfather will be terrified you’ve invited war to his doorstep—not only from my clan, but all of our allies. You do realize that the Kader clan has far more allies than Červeny? Why do you think your grandfather goes out of his way not to piss us off?”

  “This is why I’m taking Ryan and Aidan to see Andel when we’re done here,” Morgan said, his tone bored. “Give him the torque, Mr. Kader, and we’ll be out of your hair. The necklace will be all the proof Andel needs that Ryan is an idiot. You’ll get it back.”

  “I’ll give him the torque if he leaves Aidan here with me.”

  With that declaration, Ryan tightened his arm again. “Aidan is mine.”

  “No.”

  “He
’s part of my hoard. He belongs to me.”

  “And that is why, even with the torque, you’ll never achieve what you hope to achieve, young Ryan. The only things in your hoard that belong to you are the inanimate objects—the gems, the coins, the precious artwork. People in your hoard are there because they choose to be. You make room for them, and they choose to accept that invitation or reject it, but you never own them.”

  “That’s bullshit. A dragon’s hoard belongs to him! They owe him. They—”

  “You know, I’m a patient guy, but you’re all getting on my nerves.” Morgan raised his gun. “Mr. Kader, give him the torque.”

  Nassim eyed Morgan for a moment and then turned to face the display case he’d stopped in front of. He lifted the glass, set it aside, and then, with care and reverence, picked up the thick gold necklace. That was why the term torque was familiar—Aidan had been drawn to it that first night in Nassim’s apartment, and Nassim told him what it was. The wide squares with flames etched into them had called to him, and now he knew why.

  Ryan smacked Aidan in the temple with the butt of the gun, hard enough to make things fuzzy for an instant. “He left it out in the open?”

  Of course he would. It made perfect sense. It was just an inanimate object—pretty, shiny, something to be displayed, not hidden. If Aidan had learned anything about Nassim, it was that he treasured his pretty things but didn’t protect them the same way he protected the people he cared for. His worry stones were proof of that.

  “I can’t even tell you how old this is,” Nassim said, his gaze on the burnished gold. He brushed his fingers across the etched designs. “It has passed through the hands of uncountable Kaders from generation to generation. A symbol of our family—our steadfastness, our true selves, a piece of our history.” He lifted his head. “I’ll give you this in exchange for my mate.”

  “Wh—mate? Mate?” A laugh chased the stunned tone from Ryan’s voice. “Oh my gods. When you told me to fuck off, I thought you’d decided Nassim made a better sugar daddy than a mark. But you fell in love, didn’t you? You fell in love, and you decided to abandon me. Aidan, you fucking moron.”

  Aidan ignored Ryan’s taunts and met Nassim’s fiery eyes. He’d made his position clear. Aidan had hoped maybe he’d come around, someday, but he never thought he would so quickly.

  “Perspective,” Nassim said quietly, and Aidan knew he was talking directly to him.

  Ryan’s phone chirped. He dug it out of his pocket and put it on speaker. “Go.”

  “Move your ass, Ryan. A couple of ghost cars just pulled up,” the driver of the SUV said, referring to unmarked cop cars.

  “Fuck.” Ryan pressed a button to disconnect the call and glared at Morgan. “You?”

  “No.” Morgan turned narrowed eyes to Nassim. “Silent alarm on the display case, right?”

  “I must have forgotten to disarm it,” Nassim said with a shrug.

  Then he threw the torque at Ryan and launched himself over one of the chairs at Morgan.

  Aidan took advantage of the sudden attack to jam his elbow backward as hard as he could into Ryan’s ribs and drop down out of his loosened grasp. He shoved away from Ryan just as he heard a thunk and Ryan swore. He knew his best bet was to go incorporeal or summon a storm, but he wasn’t so skilled with his abilities yet that he could call them when adrenaline was coursing strongly through his veins.

  He scrambled behind the sofa just as the upholstery exploded into a puff of fabric. Was that Morgan shooting at him, or Ryan?

  The sound of a fist striking flesh was unmistakable. Aidan looked around the sofa, but he couldn’t see Nassim fighting Morgan, only Ryan with his gun. Aidan ducked back behind the furniture as Ryan fired again. The bullet slammed into one of the floor-to-ceiling windows behind Aidan, turning it into a mosaic of spiderwebs.

  “You might as well give up, Aidan,” Ryan snarled. “I’ve got all the advantages. You’re not gonna fry me, not when it’ll hurt your mate.”

  Aidan tried to tune out the sounds of Nassim’s fight. He couldn’t help Nassim if he ended up getting shot as he tried to leap to his defense. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I invested nearly a year in this. Do you get that? All that time and money and fucking effort wasted because you decided you—oof.”

  Aidan poked his head above the sofa again in time to see Nassim tackle Ryan to the floor. The impact jolted the gun out of Ryan’s hands, and Aidan chased it, but his feet hit it first, and it skittered farther away. Behind him Nassim grunted, and Aidan turned to see him clutching his ribs. Blood seeped through his fingers.

  Ryan held up a shifted hand sporting five razor-sharp talons. “Weren’t expecting that, were you, asshole?” he taunted. “You learn a few tricks when everyone thinks you’re the runt.”

  Nassim roared and charged Ryan, and Aidan focused on getting the gun—too late. As he turned back around, he saw Morgan for an instant before something slammed into his jaw. A punch. He reeled back, clutching his face, and blinked hard to clear the stars from his vision.

  “You’re a cop,” he yelled at Morgan.

  “Not right now.”

  Aidan gathered his wits and tried to work his way through the situation. Morgan had both guns, Ryan’s in his left hand, his own in his right. He kept his gun trained on Aidan as Nassim and Ryan continued to fight, grappling now on the floor, and Aidan knew as soon as he moved, it was over.

  “You’re going to shoot us, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  He fired.

  The impact stole Aidan’s breath. He felt himself toppling backward, his balance gone. There was no pain. Was that normal when you got shot?

  “Aidan!”

  Oh, to never hear Nassim sound like that ever again. He tried to say he was okay, but he still couldn’t breathe.

  Another gunshot. Ryan looked at Morgan in shock and surprise and dropped to the floor like a puppeteer had cut his strings. He lay motionless, facedown. Not breathing.

  But Aidan’s lungs unseized. He sucked in a shaky breath, and the pain hit. He couldn’t stop the whimper. He didn’t even know where the bullet went in, but Jesus, the pain was everywhere. Unconsciousness beckoned, but he held on to awareness with all his strength. He couldn’t abandon Nassim.

  Morgan kept his service weapon trained on Nassim as he sidestepped over to Ryan. As he reached down to place Ryan’s gun in his hand, Aidan knew exactly what the cop’s story was going to be. He had suspected something, so he followed Ryan and Aidan upstairs. Shot them both when they attacked Nassim, but Ryan was able to get off one last shot that killed Nassim.

  Neat. Tidy.

  Aidan tried to move, but he gasped when pain forced him back to the floor. Goddammit. God damn it. He looked over at Nassim through tear-filled eyes.

  Nassim tried to smile, but his lips only twitched. Then he whispered, “I love you.”

  Morgan raised the gun in Ryan’s hand.

  That was not how this was going to end.

  Aidan let out a breath and let go at the same time. His human form dissipated. The sensation of his molecules spreading apart was still new, but this time it felt different. His energy was dissipating too, wanting to drift through the minute cracks in the shattered window to rejoin the sky. Reclaiming his human form—he paused at that thought, trying to remember why his human form was even a priority, and suddenly the importance wrenched him back.

  He had to be human again. After this.

  But he was so tired. Not even the vibrations of the air were comforting. He could feel Nassim’s breaths, hard, sharp, rushed. Morgan’s calm movements as he prepared the gunshot that would end Nassim’s life. The reverberations of the elevator rising, almost to the penthouse.

  A second drawn-out cry from Nassim as he saw that Aidan had faded into nothing.

  The hitch in Morgan’s breath as he no doubt realized something had happened he hadn’t anticipated.

  You forgot about me. He thought the words, but they reverberat
ed in the air like a whisper on the breeze.

  He could feel Morgan’s movements grow less calm, the kick of his heart against his ribs harder than before.

  “Aidan, please,” Nassim breathed.

  Oh, how he wanted to wrap himself around Nassim—he could seep into every nook, every cranny, and they could be one. He wanted that, but he wanted the open sky too. It tugged at him, reminding him he wasn’t meant to be indoors, contained. He was meant to spread through the clouds, twisting together with water vapor and letting the power of lightning and thunder ripple through his core.

  But making sure Nassim was safe was more important.

  He felt Morgan’s finger squeeze the trigger.

  Aidan surrounded him before the bullet could leave the gun. Air swirled, thickened, and made the projectile drop harmlessly to the floor. Inside the whirlwind, Aidan could feel Morgan open his mouth. How he gasped for the air the vortex was sucking out of his lungs. Tiny lightning strikes peppered Morgan’s skin, a thousand burning knives for daring to threaten Aidan’s love… his mate.

  The penthouse elevator dinged. The air pressure changed as the door opened and cops burst into the living room. Aidan felt Detective Hough at the forefront, and he knew Nassim would be safe now. He released Morgan, satisfied when he felt his body thump to the floor. Morgan and Ryan were dead, and Aidan couldn’t feel an ounce of regret.

  “Aidan.”

  It was barely a whisper, but it drew all of his attention. He summoned a breeze to caress Nassim’s cheek and recalled his thought of a moment before, how he wanted to intertwine his spirit with Nassim’s body, but the sky was calling.

  “Please don’t leave me.”

  But the sky…. There was a storm. He could feel the thunder rumbling, the lightning sparking. It would welcome him like nothing else could. He needed to—

  “I love you. I’m sorry for what I said, for pushing you away. That’s not what I want. I’m just….” Nassim swallowed, and he searched the room as though he could see Aidan on the streams of air. “I’m scared to lose you. I’m scared to be hurt. I’m… just scared all of the time because I remember what loss feels like. And I remember that I nearly lost myself too.” He opened his arms. “But I love you, Aidan. I want to try again. I want to be your mate and build a life together, and I want to learn to not be so scared anymore. Will you help me?”