by Riley Storm
“No,” she said after taking several seconds to think about it. “No, I don’t regret any of it. I might have if you’d come in here today and been the same old Victor from previous meetings. But you proved that you have changed, that you are also processing everything.”
“I see.” There was a long pause this time. “But you don’t want it to happen again, do you?”
She frowned. “I never said that.”
“Your body did,” he rumbled. “When I asked why you hadn’t told them about us.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“I felt it again, right now, in your shoulders. You can’t deny it.”
Cheryl reached up, grabbing his left hand. “Victor, listen. I…I don’t know what I want right now. Until a few days ago, I loathed you. Yes, we had sex, but that doesn’t mean we’re a thing.”
“It doesn’t mean we’re not, either,” he countered. “Until we talk about it one way or another. Unless you just used me for sex,” he mused. “Which doesn’t seem like your style.”
“I just don’t know, okay?” she said, emotions getting the better of her as her voice rose a level. She shrugged his shoulders off and stood up. “I literally just don’t know. This is a whole new side of you, a whole new you, and I don’t know it. You’re not the Victor I thought I knew. This is a good thing, but that doesn’t mean I know you well enough to want to be a thing with you.”
Victor was quiet, though he did take several steps around so they could look at each other.
“That’s a really good point,” he admitted. “So, come on.”
He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle tug, tilting his head toward the door.
“What?” She was so confused she stood rooted to the spot.
“Come on. I want to show you something. You can spend some time with me along the way. Get to know me,” he said eagerly.
Cheryl hung her head, unable to keep a smile from her face. His earnestness was so endearing.
“I’m at work,” she countered. “And now I have a lot more of it to do.”
“Bah. That will happen. We’re working as a team now. There won’t be any obstacles between us. Just us against the construction workers and suppliers now. Come on. This is work-related anyway, I swear.”
Cheryl bit her lip, thinking furiously about whether or not she should go with him.
You got in the car with him after you saw him glowing. He turned into a dragon and didn’t do anything but wanted to make sure you were okay after. It’s probably safe to go with him now.
“Promise it’s work-related?”
“I do,” he sighed. “But even if it wasn’t, with the new plans, you’re going to be the mayor’s new favorite. Nobody is going to fire you. Trust me. They would regret that.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, letting him tug her toward the exit. “I’m coming. Wait! What about your laptop?” she asked, trying to turn back.
Victor just waved it off. “Forget all that. This is way more important. Come on!”
She laughed but did slip her hand from his before leaving the conference room. Until she knew what she wanted, Cheryl wasn’t going to start any rumors. “I’m coming, I promise. Are you going to tell me where?”
“No.”
“Please?” she asked, following him toward the elevator.
“Absolutely not,” he chuckled.
Try as she might, Cheryl couldn’t get him to change his answer. That lasted the entire trip through the municipal offices, getting into his car—now a beautiful sports car she’d never seen before, not the big blocky SUV he’d driven before—and all the way across town.
“I think I know where we’re going now,” she said at last.
Victor nodded, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the slim middle console, conspicuously close to her thigh, though not touching. But in perfect position for her to lay a hand on top if Cheryl so desired.
She didn’t, not at all sure what she wanted, and far too overwhelmed to make a decision just then. Too much was going on, and too much had changed. Slow was good right then, slow, thoughtful, measured.
Finish work, and then think about this all over a bottle of wine.
It sounded like the perfect plan.
“You’re going to like this, I know it,” Victor said as they took a right onto the street where the Outreach Center was to be located.
“A giant pile of rubble?” she teased lightly, not wanting to dampen his spirits.
The truth was, the more she saw of it, the more Cheryl was coming to like this eager, upbeat side of Victor. Perhaps it’s not even a ‘side’ at all, but more just who he is now. The real Victor, not the angry, self-loathing version that was there before. Perhaps this is what he was like before Elizabeth tricked him.
It still stung slightly to know that her ancestor, her great-grandmother, had stolen his treasure. The least she could have done was pass some of it along down the family. That was petty thinking of course, but it was natural.
Cheryl would have welcomed the wealth, even though her parents hadn’t struggled. In a country obsessed with money, one was always inclined to strive for more. Though that wasn’t the only thing she wished Elizabeth had passed on to her.
Magic!
Now that would have been really cool to possess. Just not my luck, I guess.
She glanced to her left at Victor, who was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the road.
Maybe I’m not as unlucky as I think.
Cheryl reached down and let her hand rest on his for a moment. Just a moment, however, and then she gave him a gentle pat and pulled away. “I hope so,” she said, starting to grow eager herself. What was it that he’d done out here?
The Outreach Center was going to be located on a massive, sprawling piece of property that had once housed an old factory and warehouse. The buildings had sagged into disrepair, and then recently had been completely demolished into piles of rubble, while the rest of the land sat empty, overgrown with wild grass and shrubs or other remnants of the factory.
It was an eyesore and she couldn’t wait for the project to get underway, simply to clean up the landscape around it.
“Holy crap,” she yelped as they came over the last rise and the site of the factory came into view.
It was humming with activity. Several excavators were busy scooping debris and dumping it into the back of giant dump trucks. Other men and women were busy looking at drawings, pointing to one another and around the site. Workers in vests waved red sticks, guiding trucks as they entered or exited the facility, while still more walked around outside the debris area, surveying the land and making marks.
“You like it?” he asked, pulling to a halt on the street and killing the engine.
“How did you manage this?” she gasped, popping the door, eager to see what he’d done.
“I called up some construction firms in Plymouth Falls, told them what needed to be done, and said get to work,” the big man said proudly, getting out of the car and moving to the hood.
“Something wrong?” she asked, watching as he opened it.
“Not at all.” He reached down and pulled out two red hard hats.
“Right. Sports car. Engine in the rear,” she said, realizing he’d just dug into the storage of the car, even as he placed the hat on her head.
“Much more than a pretty face,” Victor teased, giving the hat a little rub.
“Stop that,” she said, exasperated, pushing his hand away with a laugh. “Come on, I want to go look!’
“Of course, lead the way,” he chuckled, gesturing with one arm.
Cheryl did just that, running across the road, one hand holding the hat in place, the other waving an apology to an irritated dump truck driver as he tried to pull out of the site, bin full of debris.
It was amazing!
See. Told you, Mom. Told you, Dad. Plymouth Falls can do it. And I helped. You were wrong.
28
Victor stayed a step or two behind Cheryl as they entered the fenced-off construction site, only speaking up to warn her of moving machinery if she got too excited and wandered close to a truck or excavator.
This was the culmination of a decades-long dream, and he had no intention of spoiling it for her. The Outreach Center would employ hundreds of people from Plymouth Falls once it was done, and many hundreds—if not thousands—more during its construction. But it was just the start.
Such a modern building out here, in an old, mostly abandoned section of town harkening back to the days a century or more ago when Plymouth Falls was a booming town would spur a new wave. Victor hoped the area would see a reinvigoration as others set up shop around the Outreach Center.
Then there were the services that the Drakon Family would provide onsite. Medical, therapy, job training, re-education, life skills and more. It would be a place where someone in Plymouth Falls could come for help from others, or to learn how to help themselves.
Daycare services for the busy parent or parents. After-school programs for youth. Call centers for those suffering and needing a helping hand. Job-search programs. Tourism and marketing for the town as a whole to encourage new residents and employers to move there, to help it grow.
Yes, House Draconis was back, and they were going to make their impact on their hometown felt. Victor smiled to himself, knowing that neither House Ursa nor House Canis could pull something like this off. Not to the same extent, at least, though he hoped they too would open new facilities in this area of town, working together.
“I feel like I’m dreaming. Pinch me!” Cheryl said, all but squealing in excitement as she witnessed the dramatic change even a day could make. “Did you even sleep?”
“No,” he answered truthfully. “Too much to do. I don’t think the designers slept either, but they were well compensated, so it doesn’t matter. They’ll get over it.”
“Look at you, being all generous,” she teased, looking over her shoulder at him, silvery-white hair flying everywhere with every bouncy step she took.
Just beautiful.
Victor wished he could frame that look on her face, so he could always be reminded of such pure joy. It was contagious too, judging by the smile he knew he was wearing as well. How could such happiness and upbeat spirit not be infectious to be around?
“I figured there was no point in waiting around. We’ve known all along that the place had to be cleared out and zoned flat before we could start. Sure, they don’t know exactly where to dig for the sub-floors yet, but everything can be levelled, at least. It gets people working.” He paused, remembering how he’d acted before. “And it shows that I mean business. That I’m serious about these new plans, about getting to work right away.”
“It’s going to take time,” Cheryl said, leaning her hard hat against his shoulder. “An artist’s rendering is one thing, but we need architectural drawings done up, to be gone over by teams of engineers. Everything has to be sourced, laborers, supplies, all that stuff. This is a multi-year project. You know that, right?”
“I do. And as much of it will be done in Plymouth Falls as is humanly possible, though I’m sure some specialty stuff will have to be outsourced.”
“Probably,” she said, lifting her head, but staying at his side as they walked, arms occasionally brushing against one another.
Victor bit his lip, looking down at her. She was right there, so close to him, hard hat and soft gray business suit, white blouse, and black flats. Completely unsuitable for a construction site, but she didn’t care.
And neither did he. All Victor could think about was reaching out and taking her hand. Slipping his fingers through hers.
He wanted it. Wanted it badly, in fact, but he held back, restraining himself. Now was not the time. Not here in public. Cheryl had said as much already.
“What?”
Blinking, he realized she was looking back at him now, her eyes no longer wandering, but focused on his.
“Uh, nothing,” he said. Brilliant. “Just watching you. I enjoy seeing you this way. You’re just so gorgeous when you smile.”
Cheryl blushed hard, her cheeks turning nearly as red as the hard hat. “Thank you,” she said, unable to hide one of those signature grins that just set the dimples in her cheeks ablaze and made him want to sweep her up in a hug.
Maybe one day. Give her time, though, she has a lot to adjust to.
He hated having to deny something that had only grown stronger in him during their two days apart, but Victor knew something like this might take a little longer. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off by coming on too strong.
There would be no mistakes this time. He would let it burn slowly, ensuring that what he thought he was feeling wasn’t just a physical longing.
“What is that?” she exclaimed, suddenly looking past his shoulder.
Victor turned as another engine of some sort rumbled to life.
“Ah, that,” he said proudly. “That’s the beginnings of a crane they’re going to be assembling.”
“A crane? Already? Isn’t that a bit…premature?” Cheryl asked, coming to stand at his shoulder.
The backs of their hands brushed against one another, and he shivered, forcibly stopping himself from snagging it. It just felt so natural. So right.
“Apparently, they’re not satisfied with the factory ruins and want to be able to get at it from above,” he said with a shrug. “Not a massive crane, but big enough. I didn’t question it, just approved it.”
They watched in silence as the first section was lifted upright and then the “lifter” section squealed and pushed it up, leaving a gap for the next one to be inserted below.
“So that’s how they do it,” he muttered. “I was wondering how they managed to get it upright.”
Nearby, more cranes were swinging into action, this time mobile units. Four of them were attached to the upper half of the fixed crane, getting ready to lift that so it could be attached to the top of the base now extended from the “lifter”.
Putting his arm around Cheryl, he guided her closer, giving them a first-hand look at everything as the cranes worked in unison to lift their larger brother from the ground.
“So neat.”
The crane arm went up, was rotated with smooth precision and then placed on top of its base, where men in safety harnesses waited to fix it into place.
“Neat,” he echoed
A moment later, there was a deep groan of stressed metal, followed by the shouts of men on site.
“What’s wrong?” Cheryl asked, moving forward automatically.
Victor wasn’t paying attention, however, because his nose was telling him someone else was there. Somewhere nearby. Someone powerful.
Power knew power in the paranormal world. Scent, feel, aura, there were a thousand ways to describe it, all of them accurate. Like now, his dragon was screaming at him.
Enemy!
He couldn’t see anything though. Nothing that warned him. Supernaturally sharp eyes scanned in a slow circle as he looked for something, anything, that didn’t belong.
Something snapped, and more shouts of alarm echoed from behind his back as he surveyed the grounds, but Victor’s attention wasn’t fixated on them. In fact, he’d already filtered the humans out of his mind. He needed to find whoever had trespassed onto House Draconis grounds and deal with them. Immediately.
“Stay here,” he said, one particular pile of rubble catching and holding his attention for an unknown reason.
He started walking toward it at an oblique angle, wondering just how he was going to handle whoever it was, without revealing what he truly was.
And what the hell am I up against? It can’t be a vampire like Aaric suspects. Not in broad daylight like this. It would burn up in seconds if it exposed itself to the sun!
Cheryl’s voice came to him distantly. “Victor, I think something’s wrong.”
“I agree. Stay here,” he mumbled, eve
ry instinct in his body yelling at him to run for the pile of rubble.
He made himself walk straight, however, growing nearer but aimed off to the side.
Metal shrieked behind him, loud enough to grab his attention. Spinning, Victor stared in horror as the crane began to topple, taking several of the mobile units with it.
“Victor?” he heard Cheryl say uncertainly as the mass of metal plummeted right at her.
There was only one way to save her, and the dragon shifter didn’t hesitate. He raced back the way he had come, feet covering ground at a pace no human could match. The exposed patches of his skin glowed an iridescent turquoise-violet as he called upon his heritage.
Several tons of solid steel dropped like a rock from the sky, but gravity was no match for Victor’s sheer panicked desire to reach Cheryl’s side, and he draped himself over Cheryl’s crouched form with barely meters to go. Slamming his fists into the ground, he anchored himself against the impact.
“Close your eyes!” he barely had time to shout, and then the crane slammed into his back, driving him down against Cheryl.
The panicked cry for help from underneath him stabbed at Victor’s gut even as the scales on his back erupted in hellish pain. There was nothing more he could do for her. Nothing else, because he’d let his attention waver. Instead of protecting her, he’d left her.
Eyes closed, Victor accepted the pain into him, taking it as punishment for abandoning her, for not doing as he should have. For not making her his priority.
Never again, he thought to himself as the wreckage settled, dust billowing everywhere. This I promise you, Cheryl. I will protect you.
“They’re in there somewhere! I saw them!” a voice shouted as the noise of the crash faded.
Another sounded from another side. “Come on, we need to get them out! Someone call an ambulance.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly. “Cheryl?”
“No,” came the terrified squeak. “I don’t think so at least.”
He started to smile, but then felt Cheryl start to shake under him, followed moments later by coughs.