The Dragon Villain's Prey
Page 4
Ivan sighed. “You’re a good woman, Dominique.”
“I just—”
“Maybe if we had met a few centuries ago, I might have been able to believe you. I might have been able to set aside all this for you.”
What was he saying? Confusion whirled in her.
He sighed again and stepped back, moving his hand to hold her wrist. “But it’s too late for that now. You’re a good woman. I’m sorry that it ended up being you here, in this situation. Wrong time. Wrong place. And I’m the wrong man to show mercy.”
And without another word, he led her back into the hall and took her to where his contacts were waiting.
Chapter Six
Ivarsson
Dominique had stopped crying. Ivarsson had thought nothing could be worse than those heart-wrenching sobs, but her silence was. It tore at his heart, plucked at his conscience, and made him feel like such a heel that he had serious doubts about handing her over. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of it. That knowledge ate at his stomach, making it churn and bubble.
The man he’d been dealing with, Connor Turner, appraised Dominique as they drew closer. A frown pinched his brow as he looked her up and down, a sneer starting to purse his lips even as he tried to hide it.
“This is your specimen?” he asked.
Ivarsson had shared pictures of Dominique with him, along with her past and how he’d managed to get his hands on her. If this was some sort of last-minute negotiating tactic, Ivarsson wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. He glared at Turner, folding his arms across his chest with a warning glint in his eye as he nodded.
Turner eyed him for a moment before glancing back at Dominique. “Why don’t you have her bound? Or is she a volunteer.”
“Yes,” Dominique blurted at once.
Was she hoping that, if they thought her a volunteer, they’d be sloppy and let her escape? Ivarsson was tempted to play along. To give her that chance. At the very least, it would make it easier for him when he rescued her. But when he looked at her, and those pleading eyes turned on him, he knew that they’d never buy it. He sighed as he tugged on her wrist and pulled her closer.
“No, she’s not a volunteer,” he said to Turner. “But she’s human. She’s not strong enough to hurt me or fast enough to escape me. Plus, she’s a little mouse of a woman. Only bites if she has no other choice. You will be gentle with her?”
Turner frowned at him, and Ivarsson worked to keep the surprise off his own face. Why had he asked that? It wasn’t any of his concern what happened to Dominique after he handed her over. He was attracted to her physically, sure, but that was it. He didn’t care for her on any deep level, other than how he could use her to dethrone Indulf. She was naïve for thinking there was anything but pain in life, especially after her experiences. It wasn’t his concern, wasn’t his responsibility, to protect her.
Turner handed him a briefcase. It was heavy. When Ivarsson opened it, just to make sure, he found the money he had requested. All small bills, in non-sequential order. He scanned over the stacks briefly, estimated that it was what he had asked for, and closed the briefcase again. Dominique was still standing there, like a mouse. He almost expected the wildcat to come out of her, but it didn’t. She stared at the briefcase, her expression utterly numb.
“So that’s how much my life is worth? I hope it’s at least a few million dollars.”
“More than that,” Turner assured her with a leer.
Why had he never noticed what sort of dull, lifeless eyes the man had? They only brightened now when Dominique shrank back from him. She was right. He was a psychopath.
“Daniels,” Turner spat over his shoulder, and a big, beefy guy whose head was smaller than his neck stepped forward, whipping a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Dominique opened her mouth, but Daniels had snapped the cuffs on her wrists before she could protest, and her words died in her throat.
“Gentle,” Ivarsson reminded them.
Turner stared at him blankly for another moment before nodding. They headed back toward the helicopter, and Ivarsson watched with a twisting stomach. He could keep the money and merely torch Turner and his goons. He could tear the copter apart, and grab Dominique and fly her far away from here before dropping her off. His plan didn’t have to continue in this vein. He could adjust it. He’d done so before.
Never for another person, though. Not like this.
He turned back to the farmhouse, shaking his head. He’d just have to rescue her and set himself up as a hero. The idea had grown on him, and he liked the thought of splitting up Indulf’s citizens and making them question him. Such splits in public opinion were easy to manipulate. Easy to make into a gulf that would turn him into the hero he needed to be.
“Ivan,” Dominique called after him, her voice plaintive, not expecting him to turn back but hoping he would.
He didn't. Not until there was a loud roar from behind him, and four dragons appeared out of the sky. Ivarsson cursed. It was the four hunters, members of an elite force Indulf sent on missions his regular guard wasn't qualified for. He hefted the money in his hand and took off for the tree line. He had to keep them thinking he was a regular human and had an escape plan in place for situations like this.
Well… it seemed Dominique wouldn't need him to rescue her after all.
Dominique screamed. Despite himself, Ivarsson turned to look. Daniels had her by the neck; the big brute was using her as a shield against three of the hunters as they dove and bobbed in the air, snatching up Turner’s men and speeding off into the air. Turner himself was booking it after Ivarsson, a look of terror and determination on his face.
Honestly, did the man not have any plans for when the dragons attacked? If he didn’t, he was a right idiot and Ivarsson would be glad to be rid of him.
Only, it seemed like Turner was determined to come along with Ivarsson in his escape.
He glanced at Dominique again. One of the hunters had come at Daniels from behind and struck him across the back while another of them wrestled her free. A relieved breath escaped from Ivarsson’s chest, a wasted moment that he regretted as soon as one of the dragons started toward him and Turner.
“Dickerson!” Turner stumbled as the dragon caught him.
Ivarsson scoffed and picked up speed as the man called out to him, as though there was any loyalty there. He dove among the trees, holding the briefcase of money tight to his chest as he made his way along the familiar path. He’d run this a dozen times every day, even at night and blindfolded; he’s tied his hands behind his back, he’d hobbled his feet together, he had done everything he could think of to handicap himself so that he’d be prepared for any occasion that arose.
There was a hiss and crash to his right, and out of nowhere, the fourth Hunter sprang. This was their leader, Jord. A meaty fist swung at Ivarsson’s face, but he ducked just in time. He threw the briefcase at Jord, who batted it aside and took up a stance with his feet spread apart and his hands up.
“Give it up,” Jord snarled at him. “I have orders to bring you in alive if I can, but believe me, I will have no problem bringing back your corpse.”
Ivarsson slid into his own battle stance. Thank the gods he had made it a habit of putting on cologne every day, even if he didn’t expect to meet any people. If he hadn’t doused himself this morning, Jord would be able to smell the fire on him right now.
There was a call from out in the clearing, and Jord smiled briefly. So that must mean that they were all subdued, or at the very least Dominique was safe. Ivarsson felt himself relaxing. So that was that. There would be no fighting himself free of four dragons, certainly not the hunters, in his human form. It seemed like the cologne was of no use after all. He had only one chance. Take them by surprise to make his escape.
Jord eyed him, not attacking yet but not relaxing his stance. “It’s over. You can’t escape us. So, if you want to die, by all means, kill yourself. With the boys, I can very easily subdue you.”
Jord scoffed, but before he could say anything, Ivarsson had crouched and sprung into the air. The shift was difficult in the trees, with branches stabbing into his body and tearing at his wings. He held them aloft, over his head to spare them as much as he could. Jord let out a strangled shout and there were a couple other shouts of surprise from behind him. Ivarsson grasped the trunks of the trees in his claws and darted upwards.
As soon as there was space, he began to beat his wings. It took him higher, faster, and soon he had cleared the tops of the trees. Three dragons burst out of the trees behind him and flew after him. He banked to the right, skimming just over the tops of the trees, and then veered left. Bursts of flame shot on either side of him, but he didn’t let them bother him.
There was a lake not far away. He’d planned this escape, too. All he had to do was—
But he had made one miscalculation. The little dragon, Vindr, was faster than he was. He dive-bombed Ivarsson from above, claws and teeth ripping into his left wing. He jerked it up, causing Ivarsson to wheel about. Ivarsson roared in pain and twisted in the air, clawing at the smaller dragon, but Vindr released him and flew out of reach. As soon as Ivarsson had steadied himself, he dove in again.
And again. And again. Until his wings were in tatters, and the other two were on him again. Jord slashed him across the back, and Hyrr rammed him from beneath. Against the three steady attacks, he had no chance. All too soon, he was back on the ground, panting, his face twisted in agony as his wounds burned and belched smoke. Three of the four hunters landed lightly around him and returned to their human forms as he did the same.
“Surrender,” Jord snarled.
Ivarsson thought about quoting The Princess Bride but was too tired and in too much pain. Instead, he merely lay there, still, and let the hunters bind him. They hoisted him onto Hyrr’s back, then turned back into their dragons and flew to where the fourth member, Watn, waited with the prisoners and Dominique. She was in tears, with an overly large sweater wrapped around her shoulders. He thought he saw relief in her eyes when Hyrr tossed him to the ground, but he must have been mistaken.
“Vindr, get Dominique back to Byrelmore,” Jord ordered. “Quickly. We’ll take care of these.”
Dominique opened her mouth, then closed it again. When Vindr shifted, she willingly climbed into his claws. Soon they were away, and Ivarsson found himself wishing that she hadn’t left. Or at the least, that he had been able to go with her. He would have liked one last chance to explain everything… not that he would have anyway.
“Get him something to wear,” Jord ordered, gesturing at him.
Hyrr snorted as he dragged Ivarsson to be with the other prisoners and yanked a skirt out from a pouch at his waist. “Figures you’d be another crazy trying to get the dragon removed from you. This is getting damn annoying.”
Ivarsson didn’t reply to that. Yes. He was going to have to play that angle, wasn’t he? He’d set up his false life on earth meticulously. He’d have to pretend like he was an earth man who hated being a dragon. Because if Indulf knew the truth? He’d be killed for sure.
Chapter Seven
Dominique
The sight of Byrelmore was better than Dominique had expected. Relief washed over her, strong enough that when Vindr set her down, her knees buckled. Or maybe that was from flying for so long in the claws of a dragon, her knees cramped and the wind whipping past her face. Vindr shifted back to his human form and helped her to the healing rooms.
There, Dominique’s friend Audiv was already waiting. Her mate, Antonio, stood next to her and smiled at Dominique. Audiv rushed forward and threw her arms around Dominique’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.
“If you wanted more attention, you could have just asked,” Audiv mumbled, the attempt at hardening her voice doing little when it trembled that way. “You didn’t have to go and get yourself kidnapped. I was worried sick!”
“Me, too,” Dominique agreed fervently. Her hands started to shake.
Audiv led her to an examination bed. Not only was she a mage, but she was a darn good healer, too. Antonio waited outside while Audiv gave her an exam and declared her in perfect health. She asked, in a low voice, if there was anything that had happened that she needed to pay special attention to. Dominique didn’t need to ask what she meant. She shook her head, though, and wrapped her arms around herself. It was funny, but she hadn’t feared rape while Dickerson had her. She had once he started handing her over to Turner, but it wasn’t something she had thought he’d do…
And he hadn’t. He hadn’t made so much as the implication that he would. Her shoulders started to relax as she whispered this back to Audiv. Audiv’s brows furrowed, but her relief was so plain to see that Dominique had to take her hand.
“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. Maybe a few bruises from when I stabbed him but—”
“You stabbed him?” Audiv’s eyes widened.
“Yeah. I made a shiv from paper and stabbed him in the neck. Nearly killed him.” Dominique glanced at her hands. She didn’t want to talk about this, even though she knew she was going to have to repeat it again and again. She took a shuddering breath. “You can call Antonio in now to take my statement.”
As a former FBI agent himself, he worked as a liaison between Byrelmore and the US government’s law enforcement. He’d be in charge of moving forward with this case, she was certain of it. Her suspicions proved right when he came in with a tape recorder and notebook and had her tell him what happened, then followed it up with a few questions.
Once he was done, he patted her arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “You did well. Very well. Not many people can say that they almost killed a dragon with a piece of paper.” He winked at her as she blushed. “You won’t have to worry about Dickerson anymore, though. The hunters brought him in and he’s being held in a secure location.”
Dominique nodded. She hesitated a moment, wondering if she was sane for asking, but… “Do you think I’d be able to see him?”
Audiv let out a strangled noise. “Why would you want to—”
“Because I want answers.” Dominique folded her arms and leveled her most determined stare at Audiv. “Because he’s got his reasons and I want to know what they are. I want to know what’s so damned important that he was going to hand me over to those people.”
Antonio’s brow furrowed as he stared at her, but he nodded. “I think it can be arranged. I’ll have to speak with Hendrik. He’s in charge of palace security and so he’s the one that will have to give you permission to see him. I’m sure he’ll allow it, though. Just so long as we stick to the rules.”
“I’m not one to break rules,” Dominique told him dryly. And it was true. She didn’t even jaywalk unless it was on a country road ,and she wasn’t sure that counted as jaywalking. “Besides, there’s going to be those plastic barriers, right? And we’d only talk through phones. Right?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Antonio put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re very brave, to face him again.”
Dominique wanted to explain to him that bravery had nothing to do with it, but didn’t know how she’d explain it, and so remained quiet. Another question surfaced, though, and she blurted that one out. “What is going to happen to him? I mean, there will be the trial and everything but…”
“He’s being handed over to the FBI. I’m sure they’re going to want to make an example of him.”
A cold ball sank into Dominique’s stomach. She bit her lip, trying to avoid asking, but the fear pushed so hard in her mind that she couldn’t stop. “They’re not going to execute him, right? I don’t l
ike the idea of him being killed.”
Antonio gave her a surprised look. “I suppose it depends on what the charges end up being… If he’s tried for treason—"
“I need to see Indulf.” Audiv opened her mouth, but Dominique shook her head, refusing to hear it. “I need to see Indulf right now.”
She hopped down from the bed, her hands shaking slightly as she headed for the door. Both Antonio and Audiv tried to tell her that she needed rest, but she wasn’t listening. Her heart pounded in her chest, and an unpleasant bubbling was in her stomach. She knew that this wasn’t just about her, but it somehow felt like it was on her shoulders. That if Dickerson was executed by the courts, it might as well be her hand stained with his blood.
The king was in his office with several others. The door was closed, and his secretary started to tell her that he couldn’t be disturbed. But before he was finished, Dominique had already opened the door, marched in and slammed her hands on the desk. Every eye turned to her and her face turned bright red, but she pushed herself to continue. She could survive being kidnapped, so she could survive this!
“You can’t let them kill Dickerson.”
Indulf stared at her a moment, before casually shutting a file that was laying open on the desk. She expected him to brush her off, but he nodded at the other men instead. They looked disgruntled but filed out one by one.
“I know that you have had a trying ordeal,” Indulf said gently to her as he rounded the desk. “And I know that you know better than to walk in on a meeting like this.”
Her face grew hotter.
“However, I can see that this is important to you. What happens to Ivan Dickerson is out of my hands.” He spread them wide, as though to show her that he wasn’t holding an executioner’s knife in them. “The Americans will sentence him however they see fit. Even if I wanted to try him here, I couldn’t. He’s an American citizen, and as such, I don’t have jurisdiction over him.”