by Anna Lowe
“Sure. And then you’ll give it to him, right?”
Him was Drax, of course. Cassandra watched as the woman’s eyes sparkled with mischief and some hidden plan.
Crap. Did the levels of intrigue in the paranormal world run even deeper than she’d imagined?
“No dragon will ever have the Windstone. Not if I can help it,” Cassandra said, sounder braver than she felt.
Red Dress scowled and stepped closer. “But that’s the problem, my friend. You can’t prevent it.”
Not your friend, she wanted to say, but the she-dragon started pacing around her in half circles, like a cat. She prowled back and forth, coming closer each time, spinning a web of fear with her looks and words.
“You can try, of course. And die.” Red Dress shrugged. “Either way, the Spirit Stone will be mine.”
Cassandra crossed her arms and let her chin jut, about to retort. But the bathroom door flew open, and a second woman burst in. A woman every inch as tall as Cassandra and every bit as beautiful as Moira, but the exact opposite at the same time. Her fiery red hair and flashing green eyes filled the room with energy and light, and something about her put Cassandra at ease. Which was nuts, because those green eyes glowed, giving her away as a dragon.
Cassandra’s hopes plummeted. Now she had two she-dragons to deal with, and who knew how many others outside?
“Moira.” The redhead glared, kicking her foot up against the door and crossing her arms. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you must be the new kid on the block. Tessa, right?” Red Dress sniffed, looking over the newcomer from head to toe, unimpressed.
Well, Cassandra sure as hell was impressed. If she could stare down Moira the way this Tessa woman did, she’d be pretty proud of herself.
“That Spirit Stone isn’t yours, Moira,” Tessa said.
“It will be,” Moira snarled.
“It will never be yours,” Cassandra cut in.
“Exactly,” the redhead said, stepping sideways to stand beside her.
Cassandra nearly did a double take. Tessa was on her side? It had to be some kind of trick, right? A good-cop, bad-cop combo the two she-dragons had worked out ahead of time, perhaps.
But Tessa shot her a kind look that bolstered her nerves and said, Just play along. I’ll explain as soon as I can.
Cassandra stared. Dare she trust this stranger?
“What are you doing here, Moira?” Tessa demanded. “Planning to steal the diamond from its rightful owner?”
Cassandra gaped. Was Tessa acknowledging the diamond as hers? That sure didn’t fit the description of greedy dragons Eloise had warned her about.
Tessa went on bitterly. “And then you and Drax will fly off into the sunset and make more trouble for everyone. Am I right?”
“Something like that,” Moira murmured. Again, there was a hint of something mischievous, something not quite right. “And you, fire maiden, can’t stop me. Not even Silas can stop me. No one can.” Her voice held a hysterical note, as if just the thought of power wound this woman up.
Cassandra eyed the door, thinking about escape. The situation was rapidly spinning out of control.
“Listen to yourself,” Tessa spat, her eyes glowing with rage. “I don’t know what Silas ever saw in you. Or did you bewitch him?”
Cassandra gulped quietly. Tessa had seemed like a potential ally, but what if she discovered she was defending someone who was part witch?
Red Dress — er, Moira — just laughed. “I don’t need to bewitch men. Silas still loves me. You’ll see.”
Cassandra wondered who the poor fool was.
Moira stepped toward the door, apparently ready to retreat — at least, for the time being. She smiled all too sweetly at Cassandra.
“Enjoy the diamond while you can. Hold it in both hands and dream of harnessing its power.” Her voice grew wistful, and her gaze was far away. “Watch the light glint off its facets…” Then she snapped her chin up and shook herself as if from a dream. “Like I said. Enjoy the diamond while you can. It won’t be yours for long.”
And with that, Moira tossed her hair and strode out as sure and regal as a queen.
The minute the door slammed, Cassandra shrank back against the sink and exhaled.
“Whew,” Tessa said. “Goodbye and good riddance. And wow — good job, you.” She smiled broadly, and her green eyes danced. “Sorry — manners. I’m Tessa Byrne. Nice to meet you.”
Cassandra stuck her hand out, working hard to remember the redhead was a dragon and thus someone to suspect. A pity, because she liked the woman already — unlike Moira. But if both were dragon shifters, she’d have to stay on her toes.
“Cassandra Nichols.”
The woman’s green eyes shone as brightly as the pendant around her neck, and Cassandra stared. Was that a Spirit Stone too?
“Listen, we need to get out of here,” Tessa said.
We? Cassandra wanted to yelp.
“You need help,” the redhead continued. “There’s no telling what Drax will do to get his claws on the diamond.”
Claws. Cassandra cringed. Only a few days after her aunt had warned Cassandra about dragons, she was dead, the victim of a gruesome attack.
We’re still trying to identify the killer and weapon, the baffled police investigator had said.
Try dragons with huge claws, she’d thought the moment she’d seen the awful wounds.
The murder — like the news about her heritage — had thrown Cassandra’s life into a tailspin. All of Eloise’s effects had been locked up by the police — including the contents of her bank vault, which included the diamond. Her estranged son on the West Coast obviously hadn’t known about it, because he’d arranged for all of Eloise’s modest effects to be auctioned. Which meant the diamond had gone off to auction, as well — until Eloise’s will was discovered and authenticated, naming Cassandra as heir to the gem.
“You’re not with Drax?” Cassandra asked. She really had to get moving and talk to the auction director before Drax did. But she had to figure out how Tessa fit in, too.
Tessa made a face. “God, no. I’m with Silas. Well, I’m with Kai.” She beamed, clearly in love.
Cassandra nearly sighed at the reminder of everything her life lacked. No boyfriend. No lover. No shoulder to lean on, and certainly, no hero to save her when she needed it most.
She straightened her shoulders and reminded herself she could damn well stand on her own two feet. So she’d better start now — especially if there were more dragons outside. Silas? Kai? Was one of them the striking man with dark eyes?
“Anyway, it’s a long story,” Tessa said. “Right now, we have to get you out of here. You’re in danger.”
No kidding. The question was, could she trust this woman?
Trust no one, Eloise had said. Especially not a dragon.
“We can help,” Tessa said, growing urgent again.
Cassandra bit her lip. Help would be great. She’d never felt so painfully alone in her life.
She turned to splash water over her face, buying time. Plan A — to remain anonymous and stay out of trouble — had gone down the drain. Not that she’d had any choice since Eloise’s will had only been authenticated at the last possible minute. Cassandra was lucky to have stopped the sale in time.
But, damn. Her luck had screeched to a halt there. Now what?
“Moira will do anything to get the diamond,” Tessa warned.
Forcing her hands not to shake, Cassandra dried her face, spying around for some way out. The door to the ladies’ room swung open, and two women stepped in.
“Can you believe it?” one said to the other.
“Never seen anything like it,” the second woman agreed. “A three-million-dollar auction halted at the last possible second?”
The hallway outside filled with the sound of a crowd, and a plan formed in Cassandra’s mind. She sidestepped, putting the women between her and Tessa.
“The buyer lo
oked really mad. Did you see how red in the face that man went?”
Cassandra frowned. As if she needed a reminder of Drax’s wrath.
“Wait,” Tessa said, leaning left and right, seeking eye contact.
Cassandra slipped out into the hallway.
“Wait!” Tessa called.
Cassandra was tempted — so, so tempted — to turn her problems over to someone else. But she had a mission to fulfill, damn it, and that meant not trusting anyone.
“Let us help,” Tessa called in an urgent undertone.
Cassandra forced herself onward, slipping away through the crowd.
Chapter Three
Less than an hour later, Cassandra pushed out the doors of the auction house and hurried down the sidewalk. Never had she experienced anything like the past forty minutes — minutes that were excruciatingly slow but rushed at the same time.
The important thing was, she’d given everyone the slip and taken care of the diamond. Now, all she had to do was speed away from the dragons she’d evaded and figure out what to do next.
She hurried down a side alley, listening to her own muted footsteps. She was still reeling from it all — her quick exit from the women’s room, followed by her visit to the auction director’s office, where she’d channeled indignant New Yorker.
“Well, I’m glad I won’t have to press charges against Westmore Brothers Auctioneers,” she’d snipped. “Especially now that I have my property back. And I expect no further indiscretions as to my identity.”
God, she sounded like a real bitch. But it had worked, right down to the snap of her fingers. The director had checked her ID and the court order then signed the diamond over to her.
“We take the privacy of our clients very seriously,” he assured her.
Boy, she hoped so. Someone like Drax probably had the power to buy off the entire staff, but maybe if they feared for their jobs, they’d keep their mouths shut.
“Good,” she’d sniffed. “I’m sure Westmore Brothers doesn’t want any bad press.”
She’d spotted Tessa with two men at the end of the private hall to the director’s office. In fact, she could sense them there — especially the man with dark hair and dark eyes. His presence was that powerful, calling to her in a way she couldn’t define. So much, she was tempted to give in and approach him — whoever he was. Tessa had mentioned a Kai and a Silas. But if Tessa was with Kai, that had to be the guy holding hands with the redhead. Which meant the dark-haired man was Silas.
Silas, she whispered his name in her mind.
Wait, Tessa had said. You need help.
Silas’s eyes said the same thing, and she knew he was right. But the second she remembered who he was, she froze. No way could she trust a dragon.
Silas, Tessa, and Kai had been held back by security guards who probably had no clue who they were dealing with. Then a passing waiter walked by, carrying a tray of empty champagne glasses. His foot caught in a fold in the carpet, and he tripped. With an ear-splitting sound, glasses shattered into thousands of shards, each reflecting the light. Just the distraction she needed.
Swift and stealthy as a black cat, she rushed down the stairs and out into one of those crisp fall nights in New York. It was ten o’clock on a Tuesday evening, and traffic was flowing freely. Her throat was so dry, it hurt to swallow her fear and carry on. A tiny twinge of pride helped, though. She’d done it — she’d eluded them all.
Her shoes clicked down the sidewalk as she turned several corners then paused at a mailbox. Opening it with a screech, she winced and looked over her shoulder. No dragons in hot pursuit — yet.
Her hand trembled as she pulled a small package from her purse. The auction director had offered her a jewelry box to transport the diamond, but she’d taken bubble wrap and a plain, pre-paid envelope instead. The result was a package so ordinary, it could have held anything. Yet if she concentrated, she could feel the faint throb from within. The Spirit Stone.
“Shh,” she whispered. “None of that.”
Eloise had mentioned something about Spirit Stones slumbering, but damn — she needed it to do more than just snooze.
“Keep quiet,” she ordered as if it were a person and not a jewel.
It was eerie, the way the Stone’s energy reached out and clawed at her, begging.
I’ve waited for so long.
“Well, you have to wait a little longer,” she hissed while she scribbled an address on the envelope from memory. The easiest address she could think of, one that was thousands of miles away. The dragons would never find the diamond there.
“I’ll come for you soon,” she promised, hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be a lie.
A couple walked past, giving her strange looks.
Cassandra shot them her best mind-your-own-business glare and dropped the package into the mailbox. The flap creaked twice as she checked that it had really gone in. Then, with a last look over her shoulder, she hurried on. The subway was at the end of the next block, but she headed for an alley rather than taking the too-obvious route. A second later, she stepped into the dark slot between buildings and race-walked on, throwing furtive looks over her shoulder every few steps.
Trash rustled in the shadows. A taxi beeped in the cross street that seemed miles behind. The man lying in a doorway ahead — a drunk? Homeless? — didn’t stir as she leaped over his outstretched legs. Two pigeons fluttered away, nearly giving her a heart attack.
“I love New York. I love New York,” she whispered through clenched teeth.
She was two-thirds of the way down to a large cross street at the end of the alley when a voice rang out.
“Wait! Please, wait.”
She halted in her tracks. Really, she ought to have bolted, but something about that voice reached deep into her soul.
“Please,” the man called again, asking rather than demanding. Begging, almost.
She whirled and immediately held her breath. It was him — the man who had so captivated her at the auction.
He’ll captivate you in a bad way if you don’t watch out, an inner voice warned. He’s a dragon, remember?
“Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, jamming her hands on her hips.
“I’m Silas Llewellyn. And I just want a word,” he said. “Just a word. Please.”
She made a face. Why hadn’t Eloise warned her about polite, drop-dead gorgeous dragon shifters? Drax and Moira were easy to hate. This man, however, kept drawing her in.
She walked on and turned into another alley. He was beside her in a flash, though his movements were slow and graceful. She clenched her right hand into a fist and mentally reviewed a list of male soft spots she could knee, punch, or elbow in self-defense. The fingers of her left hand flexed as if trying to conjure up a spell against dragons.
She snorted inwardly. Yeah, that would be handy, all right.
“Look,” he said in a deep, sincere voice. “The diamond is yours. I respect that. But I’m not sure you understand what it really is.” His voice grew urgent, even anxious.
She stopped to study him. The man was so perfectly proportioned, she hadn’t realized how big he was until now. The fabric of his tailored suit swelled at his chest and shoulders and tapered at the waist.
Danger, her inner radar announced. A whole different kind of danger than she’d anticipated. The danger of letting her heart — or hormones — take over instead of her mind.
She started walking down the alley again, and he followed, taking one long stride to every two of hers. He was that tall, that quick — and quiet. Sneak-up-on-you-in-an-alley kind of quiet.
She hid a shiver, pretending it was the chilly night.
“Believe me, I know what the diamond is,” she said. But all she really knew were the basics Eloise had shared in that last rushed visit.
A powerful stone created generations ago by our ancestors. A jewel with incredible powers.
Just about the only thing Eloise had been specific about was the keep it out of t
he hands of greedy dragons part.
“So you know the danger you’re in now,” Silas murmured.
She scurried along. Oh, she knew, all right. The hairs on the back of her neck told her, as did the goose bumps on her arms.
“Right. Danger. So how about you leave me alone?”
“It’s not me you should fear. I would never hurt you.”
Really, she ought to have focused on the word fear. But all that echoed in her mind was never hurt you. The words had come out low, gritty, and sincere, as if he were taking a vow.
She pulled up the lapel on her coat — as if that would protect her. “Well, I don’t have it any more, so that’s that.”
He stared. “You…what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have it any more.”
For a moment, she feared he might pick her up, shake her, and demand to know what she’d done with the Spirit Stone. But then his gaze softened, and he looked around the alley, running a hand through his hair. He turned back to her with an intense, protective look in his eyes.
“Good, but not so good. Drax will still be after you.”
She studied him carefully. Did that mean he — Silas — would leave her alone? For some strange reason, the thought unsettled her more than it gave her a sense of relief.
She picked up her pace. “Exactly why I’m getting out of here. So if you’ll excuse me…”
“Listen,” he said, touching her arm.
Not tugging, not forcing. All his gesture conveyed was concern. The second they made contact, a zing went through her body. Make that, a wave of something primal, instinctive. The urge to slide closer to him and let that sensation intensify.
For a moment, her eyes fluttered, and she very nearly gave in. But when her inner alarms went off again, she yanked away and backed up.
“Leave me alone!”
She whirled into the darkness of the alley, ready to escape him for good. But half a step later, she halted in her tracks at the sight of an imposing silhouette.
“You,” a gray-haired man hissed, stepping into the light at the end of the alley.
The outline of his body was broad and boxy, and his voice was harsh. “I should have known you would be here, Silas.”