Manhattan Dragon

by Genevieve Jack

  “You fucking bastard.”

  “Seems like that label belongs to you. None of us believed Stan was your father. Though who it was is anyone’s guess.”

  Nick thrust his legs and shoulders off the floor, but Malvern’s hold was superhuman. He slammed Nick back into the rug.

  “Before we struck our deal with Verinetti for Manhattan, we relied on those like Stan to work for us. True human scum.”

  Nick’s blood pounded in his ears. Trojan was Malvern. It felt like the universe was shaking him, rattling his teeth.

  “Did you kill Stan too?” he spat out.

  “After you threw me over the rail of that parking garage, we found him and our money. He died soon after.”

  Nick closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t overpower Malvern. He’d have to outthink him. Gabriel was coming. He’d have a distraction soon. He just had to keep Malvern from killing him until then.

  “I don’t suppose you’d let bygones be bygones? Let me vamoose with my woman?”

  Malvern’s fangs dropped and his next words came out on a hiss. “She is mine.”

  A prickle of hate-filled jealousy climbed his spine. Nick wanted Malvern dead, wanted to see him bleed. Despite his best efforts at remaining calm, he answered Malvern through his teeth. “No. Rowan is mine.”

  “Then I take her from you!”

  In a flash of pale flesh, Malvern struck, his fangs piercing Nick’s neck where it met his shoulder. He cursed as pain tore through him, like being stabbed with a pair of knitting needles. He struggled against Malvern’s hold and managed to wrap his legs around the vampire’s hips and squeeze. Was it possible to crush a vampire’s bones? He sure as hell was going to try.

  His head spun as he felt warm blood trickle down his neck beneath the heat of the vampire’s mouth. The worst part was the swallowing, the violation of having his blood forcibly taken and used as energy to take more. As angry and terrified as he was, Nick made himself relax under the vampire’s bite. It was the opposite of his instincts but was his only chance of causing Malvern to drop his guard.

  It worked. Malvern must have thought the blood loss had weakened Nick, because he loosened his grip and shifted to get a better angle at his neck. Nick used the opportunity to work one arm free, reach over the back of the vampire’s head, and gouge his eyes with his clawed fingers.

  Malvern gave a strangled moan and dissolved into a dark mist, filtering through Nick’s grip. Nick stumbled to his feet and staggered back, drawing the last stake from its sheath on his thigh and pointing it toward the gathering fog.

  The dark mist coalesced quickly into the pale shape of the vampire, and one fist shot out toward Nick’s head. Nick shuffled right, and the vampire’s punch landed in the wall. With speed and dexterity he could only ascribe to Harriet’s potion, Nick dodged and stabbed the vampire’s side, keeping his grip on the stake as he pulled away.

  Malvern staggered back a step, looked down with annoyance at the wound in his gut that was already stitching itself up, and gave him a pitying look. “Oh dear boy, you don’t even know how to use that, do you?”

  Nick raised the bloody stake between them. “Try me.”

  An evil little smirk curled Malvern’s lip. “You know, I’ve already had her,” he said. “All of her. And she was glorious.”

  Fury burned through Nick’s veins and he tightened his grip on the stake. He wanted to shred the vampire, tear him limb from limb, attack with abandon, bite, claw, and kick. To take out every bit of anger he was feeling on Malvern like his own personal vampire punching bag. But he didn’t. Malvern would expect resistance. He must feign the opposite and wait for him to make a mistake.

  Criminals, if observed carefully, always tipped their hand when given enough time and space. It came down to narcissism. Most diabolical minds wanted to be known, they wanted others to be an audience to their dark brilliance. Without even realizing it, Malvern had told Nick his currency. It was Rowan. Her blood. Dragon blood. He forced his mind to steady. Slowed his breathing. Nick backed up against the edge of the bed, putting himself between Rowan and Malvern. He raised the stake.

  Malvern swaggered toward him, toying with him. “Put it down. You’re human. No match for a vampire.”

  “I threw you off the top of a building once. I can do it again.” He bent his knees and prepared to fight.

  A smile spread his lips. Gabriel had appeared in the doorway.

  “You think Rowan tastes good,” he said to Malvern, allowing his eyes to dart over the vampire’s shoulder. “Wait until you taste her brother.”

  Gabriel charged, but Malvern was faster. Nick’s feet left the floor and his back slapped against the wall across the room with a resounding crack. He crumpled to the floor. For a moment all he could do was shake his head and try to gather his bearings. It took a second for him to process that Malvern had thrown him across the room before sinking his teeth into Gabriel, most likely believing that was the end of Nick.

  His body did hurt and his vision blurred as he got to his feet, but Nick had known pain before. He’d been beaten more times than he could count growing up and had still found the strength to keep going. And all those times as a kid when he was bloodied and hungry, he never had someone like Rowan to fight for. She was far more motivation than he’d ever had before to live, to survive.

  His hand closed around the dropped stake as air came back into his lungs in tiny sips. Everything he felt for Rowan channeled into his torso, his shoulder, his arm. He took one step, then two. Then he buried the stake in Malvern’s back, up, under the ribs and straight into his cold black heart.

  Gabriel pushed the vampire off him with a look of disgust. The coven master’s body flopped to the floor and instantly stiffened to the state of a long-dead corpse. Nick spit on his cold gray body.

  “For the record, I did not enjoy that,” Gabriel said. “But I promised you a shot at taking him down.”

  “Thank you,” Nick said, hobbling over to Rowan. He wished he had a knife to cut the ropes, but he made short work of the knot anyway. He tossed the bindings aside and pulled her into his arms. She was limp as a rag doll and much too pale. He held his ear to her lips and felt the slightest breath hit his skin. Tapping her cheek, he hugged her to him. “Rowan. Rowan, honey, wake up.” He turned desperate eyes toward Gabriel when she didn’t stir. “What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she recovering? She told me she was immortal.”

  “She is very close to death,” Gabriel said. “She needs her treasure room to properly heal.”

  “Treasure room? Where the hell is her treasure room?” Nick repositioned her in his arms.

  Gabriel shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in years. Your guess is as good as mine, but it would be somewhere hidden. Somewhere safe.”

  “Harriet. Let’s get her back to the car and pay a visit to the Traveller.”

  Gabriel reached out to help him with Rowan, but Nick shook his head. No matter how much he hurt, he would not relinquish her. Not ever again. He’d come for her, and he was carrying her out of here.

  “All right then,” Gabriel said. “Let’s find Tobias and get her home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tobias landed on top of the stone mansion and roared down over the burning lawn. Under the full moon, his dragon eyes scanned the grounds. Bodies lay burned and motionless in his wake. Vampires mostly. He’d attempted to avoid the humans and the dog. They weren’t the enemy here and were likely compelled to do the vampires’ will. Luckily most had fled at the first sight of him. Now there was nothing moving in the circular drive or the rolling yard of the estate. Just the flicker of fire and a soft breeze blowing out of the east and across his scales.

  But then the front door opened and Gabriel exited the house. Nick was behind him with Rowan in his arms. Tobias whimpered. His sister was damaged, pale white and limp. He spread his wings, ready to swoop down and fly them to safety, when the distant sound of car engines coming up the drive gave him pause.

&
nbsp; Quickly, he made himself invisible and transformed back into his human form. If it was who he expected, he couldn’t be seen. The gate opened and a line of three dark SUVs drove toward the mansion, coming to a stop in the front circle. The doors opened. He recognized Aldrich right away. The elder vampire had been at Sabrina’s coronation and had been responsible for telling the vampire council about him and his dragon siblings. These were the Forebears, called in by Malvern to get Rowan. Just as he’d thought.

  One of the vampires was dressed in a suit that looked like it came straight out of the nineteenth century. He was exceptionally tall and approached Gabriel with an air of entitlement. Clearly this was the leader, Turgun. Tobias remembered Sabrina talking about the ancient vamp, the eldest of their kind.

  The master vampire brushed invisible lint off his sleeve and stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the front door. “We’ve come for the dragon,” he said, his voice commanding.

  Nick placed a kiss against Rowan’s temple. “There’s no such thing as dragons.”

  “Who are you? Where is Malvern?” Turgun demanded.

  Nick descended the stairs, and Tobias had to give him props. The guy was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. “I don’t know who Malvern is, but my friend is sick and I need to get her home. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He started walking toward the gate, passing between the elder vampires.

  Tobias knew the moment Turgun smelled Rowan’s blood. How could he have missed it? It stained her chest and her dress, and as a doctor, Tobias knew all too well that shit couldn’t be mistaken for human. The vampire’s nostrils flared, and he held up a hand. The others in his group turned as one to stare at Nick, who was walking as fast as a human who was carrying a dragon could walk.

  “Stop, human!” Turgun yelled.

  Nick did not stop.

  The vampires closed in. With their superspeed, it was almost as if Nick was standing still.

  “Leave him alone. He’s not what you’re after.” Gabriel popped his wings and flew over their heads, landing protectively between Nick and the vampires.

  The vampires hissed.

  Tobias looked up at the moon. “Well, universe, it’s been nice knowing you.” He spread his wings and prepared to do what he had to do.

  Before he had a chance to soar down and help his brother defend his sister and her mate, another group of SUVs peeled into the compound. Five of them. He paused at the edge of the roof as the first one stopped and a familiar face exited the vehicle.

  “Sabrina!” Tobias caught the eye of his vampire bride, whose look told him he should stay exactly where he was.

  A moment later, the Forebears were surrounded by the Chicago coven’s human security contingent, their guns trained on the elder vampires.

  “These bullets are soaked in Keetridge Solution,” Sabrina said. “Please don’t move. I’d hate for any of you to be damaged beyond repair.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Turgun snapped, his fangs extending. “You’re beyond your coven boundaries, Sabrina Bishop. You’d better have a good reason for this disruption.”

  Sabrina pulled a snow globe from her bag. Tobias focused in and realized it was of Chicago, the kind you could get at any souvenir stand in his home city. “I do have a good reason,” she said, “and all you have to do is look at this to understand it.”

  The Forebears moved in, staring at the snow-filled orb. Tobias noticed Sabrina never looked directly at the snow globe. Turgun, Aldrich, and the rest of the vampire council did, however, and each froze in place as soon as they saw it. Sabrina lowered it to the ground between the Forebears, who huddled around the trinket and stared at it, unblinking.

  He lifted off the roof and flew down to his mate, pulling her into his arms and kissing her on the mouth.

  “Easy, cowboy.” Sabrina drew back and winked at him. “I thought you could use some assistance, compliments of Madam Chloe. It won’t last. I recommend you make use of that forget-me potion you told me Harriet gave you.”

  As soon as Tobias had found out about Rowan’s capture, he’d texted Sabrina and told her everything. He hadn’t expected her to make it to New York as quickly as she had, or with magical reinforcements from the coven witch, but it was like Sabrina to surprise him with her resourcefulness.

  “I came as fast as I could. We traveled all day. That’s why I only brought humans and a little magic.”

  “What about the Keetridge Solution? I thought the last of your stores were depleted.”

  “A lie. Plain bullets. Sue me.”

  Gabriel joined them, pulling vials of forget-me potion from his vest. “Sabrina, your timing is impeccable, as always.”

  His wife crossed one foot behind the other and curtsied low. “I live to serve.” She took the vials from Gabriel’s hands. “Now, not to be rude, but if I’m going to wipe the memories of the Forebears and replace them with a story about an explosion that killed most of the New Amsterdam Vampire Kingdom, I’ve got to get to work. And it would be helpful if there weren’t dragons in the immediate vicinity while I did it.”

  Tobias kissed her one more time, then watched her hurry to administer the tonic to the temporarily catatonic vampires. Everyone stopped as the front door to the mansion opened and a crowd of humans stumbled out into the night.

  Nick cleared his throat. “It’s the human herd. The compulsion is over now that the vampires are dead. Any way we can use some of these SUVs to get them to safety?”

  Exchanging glances with Sabrina, Tobias gave him a nod. “My wife will take care of them.”

  Nick seemed satisfied with that, or maybe he was too tired to object and simply choosing his battles. He stubbornly carried Rowan toward the gate. Tobias was treated to a peek at a serious bruise that was spreading along the back of Nick’s neck. The human was injured. He glanced at Gabriel, who looked equally concerned.

  “I can carry her for you,” Tobias offered.

  A growl ripped from Nick’s throat. “I got her.” The look he shot him was deadly. “No offense. I get you’re her brother and everything, but no one is taking Rowan out of my arms until she’s well enough to tell me she wants to go.”

  With mad respect for the man, Tobias gave him an understanding nod, then raced off to retrieve the van.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The world held a hazy quality, dark around the edges, but it smelled of spices and sandalwood. It smelled of Nick. That’s how Rowan knew she was safe. Mouth too dry to speak, all she had the energy to do was turn her face into his chest. His shirt was splattered with blood, but she didn’t care. He was her only strength, her only comfort.

  “Easy,” he whispered. “Hang in there. We’re going to get you help. Try some water, baby.”

  He sat her up against his chest, held her head, and tipped an aluminum bottle to her lips. She gulped too quickly and began to choke, sputtering up as much as she managed to swallow.

  He stroked her hair. “Slowly.” Lips pressed against her temple, he tipped the water again.

  This time she was able to swallow, and the relief was heavenly. Exhausted from the effort, she slumped against him, turning her face to his chest again.

  “I know you’re tired, Rowan, but there’s something I have to tell you.”

  She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her eyes drooped and she leaned heavily against him. All she could give him was a sigh.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Nick said, hugging her to him, “that this thing between us, maybe it’s bigger than the sum of its parts. Maybe there’s something to this idea that people are soul mates. This… bond between us seems like a thing we shouldn’t take for granted.”

  With what was left of her strength, she hooked her fingers in his shirt and tugged. He seemed to understand. Bending his neck, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She slipped into unconsciousness once more.

  The next time she opened her eyes, she recognized the interior of the art gallery and heard Harriet’s voice as she led Nick to the stairw
ell and then down to the vault. Rowan’s heart beat faster. If she were strong enough to speak, she’d insist on going down alone. No man had ever entered her treasure room or seen her shift into her true dragon form. What would Nick think? Would he judge her for the hoard of jewels she kept? Would watching her shift scare him away? And worst of all, would seeing the jewels trigger the anger he’d felt the other night when he’d learned about the memory she’d suppressed of their first meeting, when she’d stolen the Raindrop of Heaven right from under his watch?

  But she couldn’t speak. Staying awake was enough of a struggle. Everything hurt. Malvern had drained her of so much blood, her veins seemed to rub together like sandpaper. Her internal organs ground out their activities of living without the essence of life as lubrication. If she were human, she’d have died long ago. Only dragon magic kept her alive now. And Nick. The unfinished business between them gave her something to hope for, something to live for.

  Harriet’s fingers danced across the keypad, and the vault door opened with the whoosh of its hermetic seal giving way. “Take her inside and set her on the pile.”

  “Fuck me,” Nick said. “Is this all real?”

  Harriet made a throaty sound. “It wouldn’t be much of a treasure room if it housed cubic zirconia and pearls made of paste, now would it?”

  “But… But… Where the hell did all this come from?” Nick’s arms held her tighter. If he’d just set her down, the treasure’s healing properties would start to work.

  “She’s a princess and a dragon, Mr. Grandstaff. I’m sure you can imagine the possibilities. Now, if you’d place her there.”

  Finally he lowered her to the pile in the gentlest way; it made her heart warm to experience the care. He brushed her hair back from her face. “What now?”

  “Leave her,” Harriet said. “She needs time to heal.”

  “I’m not going to leave her alone in this… bank vault. What if she needs help? What if this”—he motioned toward the treasure—“doesn’t work right?”