Dragon Redemption

by Amelia Jade

  She was going to put an end to it all, and she knew exactly the way to do it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Violet

  She stared up at the imposing office building.

  Everything about it screamed at her to turn her back and go away. Everything that is, except for the well-being of Ivore. That overruled everything else, and with a nod to reaffirm her commitment to this course of action, she walked inside.

  There was a security guard manning a table at the front, but he seemed more interested in his lunch than anything else. Violet walked right past him acting as if she belonged there, and that the soot and singed clothing she was wearing was completely appropriate.

  The guard looked up as she passed, blinking several times. Violet gave him her best corporate executive “why are you looking at me?” glare, and kept on walking until she reached the bank of elevators. There were a number of different offices in the building, including many open to the public, so he had no reason to stop her. She was still relieved when the doors shut behind her.

  The directory was posted on the wall next to the buttons. She hit a random one first to ensure it started moving, then scanned the list until she found the one she was looking for.

  Malkin Holdings Ltd.

  This was it. This is where she would finally be able to do the right thing. Violet wasn’t going to let it happen again. She’d already suffered once with Chris, and it had been haunting her ever since. Ivore was still alive, and she had a chance to keep it that way. All it would require was action on her part. Action she’d failed to take six years before, because she was only thinking of herself. Now was the time to think of others and put their well-being above her own.

  The elevator came to a stop and Violet steeled herself, knowing that whatever happened next, there was no way she could plan for it. Malkin was unpredictable at best, and he was also the city’s biggest crime lord if the rumors were to be believed. After what she’d been through the past two weeks, there didn’t seem to be any reason to doubt it. Buying up real estate and sending goons after her and Ivore not once, but twice? It all fit.

  A chime sounded and the doors opened to reveal a cubicle farm. Phones rang constantly, people were shouting at each other, at their phones, and everyone seemed perpetually angry.

  “What the hell?” This didn’t seem like a place Malkin would work.

  Violet looked at the floor number, and then rolled her eyes. Idiot. This was the random floor she’d picked, not Malkin’s office. It was some sort of call center. She took a step back, resting her shoulders against the glass wall as the metal box started upward again, feeling silly. So much psyching herself up, preparing for the worst, and it had all been for naught. Like wasting the good surprise on a late arrival to the party, not the person it was for.

  Before she could gather her wits again the elevator spat her out into a reception area that was much more what she’d expected. It was a calm, tranquil atmosphere composed of rich furnishings, like the expensive-looking marble floors and shiny dark cherry desk that arced along the right side of the wall toward the middle. A stunning woman who looked more like a model for hire than a receptionist sat behind the desk, eying Violet, lips pulling back in judgment.

  “Are you lost?” she asked in a snarky tone.

  “No, no I don’t think I am.” Violet’s spine straightened at the attitude directed her way. Who the hell did this bitch think she was? Could she not see she was simply here because she had huge tits and Malkin and his men wanted something to ogle? Clueless bimbo.

  “Unfortunate. What do you need?” The next words were uttered under her breath, but loud enough that Violet could hear. “Besides a shower and a gym.”

  “I’m here to see Malkin, not exchange barbs with the hired help. Trust me, you can’t spare the intellect to win this fight.”

  Brown eyes furiously glared up at her, and the blonde seemed moments away from leaping from her chair and taking a more direct approach. The mention of her boss restrained her. If Violet knew Malkin was here and expected that she would be seen, it spoke to her being more important than her attire and appearance might suggest.

  “And your name?” she spoke in a hiss, not bothering to hide her anger as she seethed impotently behind the desk.

  “Violet Walker.”

  The receptionist didn’t bother to acknowledge that she’d spoken, she simply tapped some keys on the keyboard.

  “Last door down the hallway on your left,” she spat.

  “Thank you,” Violet replied with false sweetness. “By the way, your roots are showing. I wouldn’t want you to get fired for not looking the part of classy hooker. Not when you do such a fantastic job of it.”

  She headed down the hallway, wishing she had eyes in the back of her head to see the receptionist’s reaction. It would probably have been worth having stooped down a level to trade insults.

  At the end of the hallway was a washroom with a rather brand-new-looking steel door on it. It was odd to think that Malkin’s office would be right next to it, but maybe the old man was incontinent. The thought cheered her up and she entered his office without knocking, and with a huge smile on her face.

  “So you’re alive.”

  “Brilliant introduction,” she fired back. “Be any more mob-boss stereotype, why don’t you?”

  Violet hadn’t been expecting to mouth off to everyone today, but she’d come to the conclusion that it was unlikely she was going to leave the building alive. Malkin didn’t seem the type to leave loose ends, and knowing that she was still among the living and could possibly point fingers in his direction would mean a sure death sentence.

  So why not have a little fun. Not only would she get to balance the scales after all these years, trading her life for someone else’s, but she didn’t have to be cautious about it. As it turned out, acting like a badass was actually really fun!

  Malkin put down the pen and sat back into his high-backed executive chair, regarding her through his glasses. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She snorted. “Right. Listen, let’s cut the horseshit, Malkin. I’m here to bargain with you.”

  That caught his attention. He steepled his fingers in front of him, regarding her thoughtfully. Then, as if remembering her earlier comment, he crossed his arms in front of him instead. “Really? And just what are you here to bargain about?”

  “Ivore.”

  “Oh?” He stroked his chin a few times, then indicated she should continue.

  “It’s simple, really. I want you to leave him alone.”

  “And in return? What do you propose to offer me?”

  Violet paused, some of her courage fleeing her. Although she’d known this is what it would take, that there was nothing else likely to stop him, it wasn’t an easy thing to say or do. It was necessary, however, and it would finally leave her at peace with everything. An eye for an eye had never really been her philosophy in life, but there was something fitting about it now. She’d lived for six years longer than she should have, and now she was finally going to fix that error in life’s plans.

  “My life.”

  “Your life? You would sacrifice yourself for your dragon boyfriend?”

  She jerked.

  “Oh yes, I know all about him and his scales and things, don’t act so surprised.” Malkin stood up from his desk and came around to the front to sit back on it while he studied her. “What I hadn’t realized was that you cared so strongly for him. That’s just an added delight to all this, and it makes it so much easier.”

  “Makes what easier? Do we have a deal or not?”

  Violet was growing uneasy. What was going on here? And why did he keep insisting that she cared so much for Ivore? She didn’t hate him, but she wasn’t doing this because of her feelings for him. She was doing it because it was the right thing to do. Two people would not die because of her. No, she was thinking of other people this time around, not herself. Wasn’t she?

  “Oh. Oh my. Tel
l me, Violet Walker. Do you love him?” Malkin chuckled.

  Love Ivore? No, of course not, she told herself hastily. There was no way she loved him. She was only here because this time she could choose who died. Just like it should have been her in the car accident, this time it would be her. She was taking life into her own hands.

  “Interesting. You deny it to yourself, but your face tells a different story.” He laughed some more. “I do hope you never had any aspirations to play poker or negotiate with people who can read you.” His eyes hardened suddenly, almost at the same moment the door behind her opened. “You might find that they can see your fears.”

  Violet spun as two men entered. The same two men, she realized fearfully, that had attacked Ivore at the party. It felt like ancient history after all that had happened since, but in reality it had been little more than two weeks ago.

  “Tell me,” Malkin said, standing up. “Was that really your plan? Come in here, and offer your life for his? As if that will bring my sons back to me? Will that raise them from the grave? They are dead, and your mate is the reason why. He’s going to suffer, and suffer badly.” The old man’s eyes took on a maniacal gleam as he cackled, revealing a break with reality that she’d never expected existed in him. “Now that I have you, he will come to me, and I can have a two-for-one special. Won’t that be a blast.”

  “What?!” she yelped, struggling as the two goons grabbed her, each by an arm. “Don’t do this, Malkin! Take my life for his, please, I’m begging you!” she managed to rip one arm free, but the big man quickly snagged it again, restraining her with a grip that started to hurt.

  “Violet, Violet, Violet. Don’t you see? You didn’t think you could just walk in here, offer your life, and that would be it, do you? What insurance do you have that I won’t just, say, oh I don’t know, have my men here kill you now, and then go after Ivore once you’re dead?” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Amateurs. I’m working with amateurs here! Take her away. Make sure she has a seat for the show, however. I’m sure it won’t be long before dragon boy shows up. Come on now!” he screamed when they didn’t move fast enough, and Violet cried out again as she was dragged from the room.

  “One last parting thing,” he called after her. “Did you ever think how this would affect Ivore, you coming here?”

  One of the thugs took a rag from his pocket and stuffed it in her mouth as she continued to scream obscenities at him. She gagged and started choking on it, but he didn’t remove it until they’d entered another room. The thick door slid closed behind them, cutting off all sound from outside. It was soundproofed she realized, just as the two men forced her into a chair and restrained her. She struggled, but the chair itself was also bolted to the ground. Violet was going nowhere.

  This was not at all how she’d expected it to go. Her face burned at being called an amateur, but Malkin was right. She had acted like one. The plan she’d concocted had been harebrained and not thought through at all. Malkin had known that, and now both she and Ivore were going to pay the price it seemed.

  It also burned to know that she’d been lying to herself this entire time, and Malkin had seen right through it. On the way to his offices she’d told herself over and over again that this was the only way to right the wrong she’d committed. By sacrificing herself she could save Ivore, and atone for her mistake that had killed Chris.

  That wasn’t it at all, however. She wasn’t thinking of Ivore in this; she was thinking of herself once again. She was so obsessed with “balancing the scales” that she’d walked into the lion’s den unprepared and not thinking about the consequences for anyone else. Including Ivore. How could she have been so blind?!

  Malkin’s parting words hit her the hardest. He was right, after all. Not once had Violet thought about how Ivore would respond to her sacrifice. She’d only thought of how it would let her rest in peace, at ease with the guilt she’d carried all these years.

  But she wasn’t absolving the guilt, she was only shifting it from herself to Ivore. He would blame himself for not stopping her, for not saving her. Her selfishness would result in him being haunted much the same way she had! The last thing she wanted was Ivore to feel guilty, to think that her actions were his fault. She wanted him to be happy, to smile and laugh. To love.

  Love.

  Malkin had accused her of loving Ivore, and of denying it to herself. Was that true as well? Did she love him?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ivore

  He felt energized as he walked up to the building of cold steel and black, an ominous outcropping around the other, brighter buildings that made up the core of downtown Barton City. It wasn’t the biggest building in town, nor was it the newest. In fact, it mostly blended in unless one knew what was housed inside.

  It was the quality of the person who owned it and called it his offices that gave it an evil vibe. Ivore knew that Violet wouldn’t approve of him seeking out Malkin—again—but she wasn’t answering her phone, and she wasn’t at home. Her unknown whereabouts worried him after what had happened, but until she contacted him, there was little he could do. If there was one thing Ivore had learned about women, it was that being too persistent would push them away. Patience was key with Violet.

  Not so with Malkin. The asshole had threatened his mate’s life. Again. Ivore was through playing games, and more than ready to teach the senile miscreant just how terrible an idea messing with an ice dragon was. He flexed his fingers, little flakes of ice popping off his knuckles and bouncing on the sidewalk before they melted away.

  He took a breath in through his mouth, irritated once again about his damn nose. The hammer attack had broken it, and in his haste to heal and take care of everything surrounding the fire he’d not set it properly. Which meant he’d had to re-break it and set it. The pain had mostly subsided, but the swelling was still blocking it. Breathing through his nose wouldn’t be possible for another hour or two, maybe a bit less.

  Walking across the street, he pushed open the double doors with a savage and completely unnecessary gusto. Glass shattered as the doors hit their stops suddenly, metal shrieking as one of the hinges ripped itself apart. The two people in the lobby shouted and backed away from him. The security guard got up from his desk.

  “This doesn’t concern you,” Ivore said, walking directly toward the bank of elevators. “You don’t need to get involved and risk your life. Sit down.”

  The guard looked about to hesitate, so Ivore paused, lifted a hand, and allowed ice to coalesce into an icicle. Then he hurled it with all his strength at the desk where the guard had been seated. It went right through the wood, puncturing the back of his chair and pinning it to the wall behind him.

  “Okay, man,” the guard said, throwing up his hands and backing away. “You’re right. Not my fight.”

  Ivore smiled. “No, it’s not.”

  He punched the elevator button for Malkin’s level, and up he went, whistling softly to dispel the quiet of the ride. The door chimed and he strode out a few seconds later, ignoring the secretary at the front desk.

  “Hey, stop!” It wasn’t the same woman, and this one clearly didn’t realize who he was. She reached for her phone, but a blast of arctic air from his hand picked her up and sent her and her chair spinning across the office until she was next to him.

  Ivore leaned in, putting his face inches away from hers. “Shhh,” he said, drawing a hand over her mouth. Ice followed its wake, binding her mouth closed. Then he secured her hands and feet to the chair with more ice, before also sticking the chair in place. “Much better,” he pronounced at the end, dusting his hands together.

  That done, he walked along the hallway toward Malkin’s office, noting the new steel door. Good call. It would hold up better for sure. Reaching the big door that led to the office he wanted, Ivore spread his fingers wide and ice poured out, covering the door. It began to creak and groan with the added weight, but he didn’t stop until the entire door was cove
red in freezing-cold ice.

  Taking another icicle in his grasp he used it like a pick, slamming it through the door. The entire thing shattered into a million tiny fragments that bounced off his frame as he walked through the door and into Malkin’s office, ready to put an end to the asshole that had tried to kill his mate.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Violet

  “What is the point of all this?” she asked, tired of sitting and staring at the television mounted to the wall in front of her. “Am I supposed to get so bored that I beg for you to finally kill me? That’s lame, if you ask me. Real bad guys would just kill me and be done with it. Are you a real bad guy?”

  The guard didn’t respond.

  “And what’s with the television? Can you turn it on? Maybe there’s something good on. I like the home renovation shows. What about you?”

  Still no response.

  Violet was about to open her mouth to try again when the guard abruptly put his finger to his ear. He was listening to something, then he nodded. “Got it.”

  “Got it?” she asked, craning her head around. “Got what? What did you get?”

  The guard turned on the television. It showed her a room she knew quite well. Malkin’s office looked much the same as it had when she’d been dragged out of there. Clean, cold, sterile. Just like its occupant. Malkin was once again seated behind his desk, writing on some papers.

  “What does he do all day? Does he just scribble on them to make himself look important? Why am I watching this? It’s kind of creepy, don’t you think?”

  The guard just smiled. Of all the responses he could have given her, that one chilled Violet’s blood the most. Whatever he was expecting her to see, it was clear she wasn’t going to like it. Worry coagulated into a solid block of fear in her stomach, nausea threatening to bring up any remaining contents she might have.

  Without warning the door to Malkin’s office exploded inward. Violet jumped, not having realized the room was wired for sound as well, the speakers blaring with the sound of wood fracturing and ice falling to the floor in the office.