Adored by The Dragon: (The Dragon Lord - Book 3) (The Dragon Lords)

by K. T. Stryker

  Adored by The Dragon

  K.T Stryker

  © 2017

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  © Copyright 2017 by Persia Publishing - All rights reserved.

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  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Dana

  Dana fidgeted in her seat half-heartedly watching the news on her iPhone while she waited for her appointment. She twisted the Irish Claddagh ring on her finger that had belonged to her mother. It was a symbol of love and loyalty and in bygone times such rings were given from mother to daughter, among friends or as marriage gifts between betrothed couples. She wore hers on her right hand with the heart pointing down denoting her single status. But for Dana the ring reminded her of her mother and the long line of proud women before her. It gave Dana strength in trying circumstances to remember them and this meeting was one such circumstance.

  To distract herself, she tried to concentrate on the news report on her phone. It was a story about dragon terrorists in England and the authorities search to root them out. She had trouble following the logic of the reporter. What he said about the danger poised was all nonsense. Dragons co-existed with humans for hundreds if not thousands of years. Why, all of a sudden, would they terrorize humans? It didn’t make sense to her. If anything, they had the right to protest the discriminatory treatment they received at the hands of foreign authorities. Thank goodness nothing like that happened in the United States.

  She turned off her phone and put it back in her purse with a glance to the secretary guarding the office of Ryan Kaur, development director of Kaur Industries. Again, she fidgeted with the ring.

  She was not anxious because she was nervous about the meeting. An interview with the Development Director of Kaur Industries didn’t impress her a bit. Men like Ryan Kaur got their positions not by hard work and sweat but by being the son of the company’s owner. No. She had important work on her thesis on PTSD that this meeting interrupted. She didn’t want to be here at the offices of Kaur industries. Dana had no interest in the weapons of war and certainly none in weapons manufacturer Kaur industries. She did understand that the Kaurs gave generous donations to her school Auden University.

  Her academic advisor sent her here without much explanation. If she wanted to get funding for next year, her advisor told her, she’d take this meeting.

  “You should be grateful for this opportunity,” Professor Ortiz had said. “The specifications for this scholarship are narrow, almost tailor made just for you.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said as she looked over the letter sent to the professor. “Why is being of Irish descent important?”

  “Some scholarships have strange requirements. I’ve even heard of a Zombie Apocalypse Scholarship, so this isn’t so strange.”

  That’s how Dana McGarrity now found herself sitting in the waiting room outside of Ryan Kaur’s office.

  “Mr. Kaur will see you now,” said the receptionist. She flashed a bright smile and knocked on Kaur’s office door. “Mr. Kaur, Ms. McGarrity to see you.”

  “Come in,” said Ryan Kaur with a smile. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  “You have?” said Dana. Instantly Kaur’s chiseled profile and broad shoulders caught her attention. She offered her hand for a handshake but he glanced at his computer screen ignoring her hand. Awkwardly she lowered it to her side.

  How odd. Maybe the rich boy is too good to shake my hand?

  Curiously, Kaur raised an eyebrow but then he smiled at her. “Have a seat,” said Kaur kindly. “Thank you for coming to see me. I’m sorry my wife Stephanie can’t be here. She wanted to meet you too.”

  “You’re married,” she said softly.

  “One year now. Steph is an attorney and works on different legal aspects of Kaur Industries. She was the one that did the background check on you.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Dana, “why you are interested in me?”

  “You’re a brilliant researcher, Ms. McGarrity and we need a bright young mind like yours to help us. We are researching PTSD and looking for ways to reduce it among our fighting forces.”

  “I thought Kaur Industries produces weapons.”

  “Among other things,” said Kaur. “But if we can find a way to reduce the impact of war and build that into our weapons systems that would benefit our troops greatly. Don’t you agree?”

  “PTSD is a complex problem. I’m not sure how you can reduce the effects of traumatic stress except not have the source of the stress in the first place.”

  “That is the optimum solution, yes. But until we can convince seven billion people not to kill each other, we have to find other solutions.”

  “I never thought I’d hear anyone who runs a business selling weapons would advocate the end of war.”

  “Kaur Industries does much more than build weapons, Ms. McGarrity. In Africa, we design water delivery systems to drought-prone areas. We research new fertilizers in the United States that don’t damage the water tables and wetlands. In Australia, we work massive solar power projects. By the end of the century I anticipate Kaur Industries to be out of weapons business all together.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Most people don’t. But we want to reduce the suffering war experiences cause soldiers. There are very promising drugs that may be of help, but right now we need to establish baselines from pre-war to post-war experiences. We have a study design we’ve developed to follow several platoons from training to through the return of deployment and we need someone to head that up. Your qualifications fit the bill. You have studied
PTSD. The first drafts of your dissertation are good.”

  “My dissertation? How did you get that?”

  “Professor Ortiz was generous in sharing that with us.”

  “He had no right,” she sputtered. “It’s not done. It’s-”

  She reminds me of Steph.

  The thought that invaded her mind came from left field and it stopped her in mid-sentence. It sounded like Kaur but right now he stared at her with amusement in his eyes. What the hell was going on?

  “Something wrong, Ms. McGarrity?” said Kaur with a smile.

  She swallowed hard while starring into Kaur’s blue eyes. Her preconceived notions of him as a spoiled rich boy fell away. Not only did he seem thoughtful and caring about the different aspects of his business, he had a magnetic quality about him. If he wasn’t married, he might tempt her. But Dana wasn’t a woman that played on another woman’s field.

  But then Ryan Kaur wasn’t offering either.

  “You’ll find the perks of working for Kaur Industries helpful to your life goals,” he said.

  “But I thought I was interviewing for a scholarship.”

  Kaur leaned back in his leather chair with the relaxed air of man that always got what he wanted.

  “Come now, Ms. McGarrity. Do you really need another year to finish that dissertation? No. You are a young lady comfortable in academia and don’t want to leave the nest just yet.” He chuckled as if he told a joke.

  Dana had to admit that Kaur had her pegged right. She wanted to spend the next year looking for a job while she finished odds and ends on the dissertation. But really with a good push she could finish it in a month.

  “This is an offer of a post doc position,” he continues. “We require you finish your dissertation but from what we’ve seen, that shouldn’t be a problem. Once you pass your Oral Arguments, you’ll get two weeks paid vacation, then report for work. How does that sound?”

  “Well, great. But what are the particulars? Where will I work? What is the pay? What are the requirements for publication?” Dana was sure she missed important questions, but she wasn’t expecting a Post-Doc interview.

  “Whoa, whoa, Ms. McGarrity. We’ll start you off at $75,000 with bonuses for performance.”

  Dana’s mouth hung open. That was almost double than the usual starting pay for a Postdoctoral position in psychology.

  “You look distressed, Ms. McGarrity.”

  “It’s too much!”

  “This is private industry and important work. Trust me, but the end of the first month you’ll think we aren’t paying you enough. And as for where you will work? Wherever the soldiers are. I hope your passport is up to date. We’ll expense all housing and food costs.”

  “I don’t have a passport.”

  “Okay, I’ll have my secretary start the paperwork. She'll send it to you for your signature and then we’ll get it finalized for you.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it sounds like a dream job, but I have to think about this.”

  He smiled again that grin that said he owned the world and everyone in it.

  “Of course. But to seal the deal, we’ll pay your student loans as long as you sign a two-year contract.”

  “Two-year contract?”

  A ring tone sang through the office.

  “That’s my wife. I need to answer this.”

  “Hey, Steph, hang on. I’m finishing with Ms. McGarrity.”

  He gave Dana a quick glance. “We’ll message over the particulars along with the contract. Glad to have you aboard.”

  She stood and offered her hand but again he refused it. He turned his attention to his phone call, and the happiness on his face as he spoke to his wife communicated volumes. For a second a strange jealously struck Dana, but she decided it was because Kaur and his wife the kind of relationship every woman dreamed of. But it was weird he completely ignored after he picked up the call, and Dana left the office feeling strange at being dismissed so peremptorily.

  As she left the office she overheard his conversation.

  “Yes, babe. This should work out very well. How did the real estate deal go?”

  Dana shut the office door with a click wondering what he meant.

  “How did the meeting go?” asked the secretary.

  “I’m hired,” Dana said. The world spun, and she was breathless. This whole meeting moved too far too fast, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

  “Congratulations. You’ll love working at Kaur Industries.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Quinn

  It is dark. He hasn’t seen light for what seemed forever. Quinn shivers but not because he is cold. Buried in a box warm only from his body heat he is hungry and terrified. There is barely enough air. A small tube snaked from the surface to here is all that is keeping him alive.

  Mommy. Daddy. Where are you?

  Strange men came to the house. Mommy told him to hide, so he did. But they found him as he crouched in the pantry. They carried him from the safety of his home and parents as he struggled.

  “He’s a feisty one,” said one man.

  “He should be. Rhea’s son.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you give him the sedative? We don’t need him to-"

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” barked the man who held him.

  Rhea? Who was Rhea? Margaret was his mother’s name. At least Grammy Morgan called her that.

  He pounded against the roof of his coffin but not as hard as the times before. No one heard him. Without the light or day or the dark of night, Quinn felt he lay here forever. His muscles ached and cramped from not being able to move.

  He hated it here. Quinn wanted to go back home and see Mommy.

  “Mommy! Where are you?”

  The little space grew hotter and smoke curled around him. Heat rushed through him and the smoke make him cough. White fire engulfed him!

  More panicked now he pounded on the roof, and the space tightened. His body pulsed, expanded, and the wood of his coffin cracked. Dirt rushed in around him but he clawed his way up, like he was swimming underwater, trying to get to the top. Dirt filled his nose, but he snorted it out. The dirt fell away, and he pulled himself out of the hole. It was still dark, but a faint light shone through the windows. He looked around able to make out stalls sort of like the ones in the stable back home.

  But he wasn’t back home. This smelled different. Funny. Dry and dusty. No animals had been here for a long time. He stood and with a shock realized he stood on four legs. And his hand wasn’t a hand, but a claw with black talons. Incredibly the scales glinted in the faint light.

  And then it all melted, and he was Quinn again.

  Naked. And Alone.

  “What the fuck, Quinn? Get your ass out of that bunk.”

  Quinn rolled over and groaned. The ghost of the nightmare hung around him, a grey miasma that clung heavily to him each time he had that fucking dream. All he wanted to do was lay curled up here until the shivering, the fear passed over him. And Harvey was on his ass.

  “Shut the fuck, up, Harvey,” complained Quinn.

  “What were you screaming about?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Seriously, dude, you are the only solder I know that has PTSD before you signed up.”

  Quinn sat in a flash, angry now.

  “I said, shut the fuck up, asshole.”

  Harvey smiled and held up his hands in surrender.

  “Okay, okay. But at least you are awake.”

  “You aren’t my fucking mother,” snapped Quinn.

  “And what do you know about mothers, eh?”

  Quinn knew Harvey was joking though it a bad one. Very bad. It struck hard, more than it should and Quinn flew off the bed and hauled Harvey by his uniform shirt to his feet.

  “Enough to know you are a motherfucker,” he said hoarsely. He pushed Harvey back to his bunk with all the strength in his arm and Harvey toppled over the bunk and onto the floor. He pulled himself to his knees. Blood t
rickled from his mouth.

  “What the fuck?” said Harvey.

  “What the hell is going on here?” a voice boomed from the squad bay doorway.

  The DI walked in with the rolling swagger of drill sergeants everywhere appraising the situation.

  Immediately both privates stood.

  “What are you ladies doing here at this hour? You’re supposed to be at mess.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” They said in unison.

  “So? I asked a question.”

  “I fell, sir,” said Harvey.

  The DI got nose to nose with Harvey.

  “Is that what happened? Or did Morgan here take a swipe at you?”

  “Sir, I swear. I was clumsy.”

  “You are clumsy. A clumsy liar. Wipe that blood off your face and get out of here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Quinn moved to follow Harvey.

  “Not you, Morgan.”

  While the DI eyed him, Quinn stood at rigid attention.

  “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

  Quinn remained silent. One did not answer the DI’s rhetorical questions.

  “You get the highest marks of anyone in this platoon in everything you do. Hell, you’d be platoon leader if not for your shit storms. So what the fuck is it with you, Morgan? Did Daddy hit you upside the head? Did Mommy not love you enough?”