The Dragon of New Orleans

by Genevieve Jack

  “No,” she said quickly.

  “Are you sure, Ms. Tanglewood? After what happened tonight, I want to ensure you make it here safely.”

  “Raven,” she said.

  “Hmm?”

  “You called me Ms. Tanglewood. You can call me Raven. It’s short for Ravenna.”

  He nodded. “Gabriel.”

  Their eyes caught again, and the energy returned with a vengeance, like something in her torso had reached out and hooked something deep within his. He shuffled his feet and glanced away.

  “Duncan will take you home. Good night, Raven. I look forward to working with you.”

  She climbed into the dark leather seat, and he shut the door behind her.

  “Where to, miss?” Duncan asked.

  “The Three Sisters. Magazine Street, in the Garden District.”

  The elderly man twisted around to look at her. “The bar? No. Mr. Blakemore won’t like that. I’m supposed to take you home.”

  “That is my home. It’s my mom’s place. We live in the apartment above the pub.”

  With a single nod, the man turned back around and pulled away from the curb.

  “Does Mr. Blakemore know where you live?” Duncan asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t ask for my address.”

  The man made a throaty sound. “He’ll know soon enough. You’re working for him now.”

  Raven leaned back against the seat and stared out the window. “Yes, I guess I am.”

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Raven was too nervous for breakfast. She couldn’t explain exactly what Gabriel was or how he’d saved her, but today she would be working with him full-time. She hadn’t even had enough presence of mind to ask him how much she’d be paid.

  He’d said he was a dragon, but what exactly did that mean? The question intrigued her enough that she wanted a chance to learn more about him. She’d be lying to say that was her only desire. There were plenty of things intriguing about Gabriel, not the least of which was that he made her feel alive again, as alive as before she’d become ill.

  A part of her though had an awful feeling that her debt to him would mean much more than he’d told her last night. He’d looked at her like he owned her. Maybe he thought he did. She hadn’t signed a contract before she swallowed that tooth. Hadn’t reviewed the terms and conditions. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Worrying wouldn’t get her anywhere. She was alive thanks to him. Plus she had a job, a fine point she hoped would get her mom, Avery, and most importantly her father off her back.

  “Why are you all gussied up?” Avery asked when Raven emerged from the bathroom dressed for the day in her favorite sleeveless floral dress. It had a scoop neck and a cut that skimmed along her body down to the knee, with a thick rose-colored belt that matched the scarf tied around her neck. It did a good job of giving her rather flat figure a little shape. She figured she should dress nicely for a job in a place where they sold $40,000 armoires, and this was the most professional thing she could find that fit her bony post-cancer frame. Normally she would wear heels with this outfit, but she found a pair of flats that matched well enough and were more practical for a day of… she wasn’t sure what. She’d also tamed her wild mass of curls.

  “I found a job,” she told Avery. She did not offer a smile or a good morning. “I’m going to work today.”

  Avery scowled. “I thought you said you were going to help Mom and me at the Three Sisters.”

  “You didn’t tell her that, did you, Avery?” Raven cut her a sharp glare. “I never committed to that. After what you pulled last night with Dad, even if I didn’t have a job, I’m not sure I’d want to work with you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Avery said defensively. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “Well, it wasn’t. He hurt me and now he wants to control me.”

  “Truly, Raven, I am sorry. He abandoned you. I see that now.” This time she meant it. Avery was a year older than Raven, and the two had a long history of psychological co-torture and hair pulling. But this apology was full of compassion and genuine contriteness, not unlike the day Avery had made Raven walk home from the pool alone so she could make out with Jeffrey “String Bean” Pulitzer. Raven had passed out from heat exhaustion and had to be taken to the ER. Avery had apologized through the same tight lips that day.

  “Apology accepted,” Raven said. “Just don’t try it again.”

  “I didn’t tell Mom, but I was looking forward to you working with us. We need the help.”

  “This job… it sort of fell out of the sky,” Raven said, leaning against the breakfast bar where Avery sat. Her mind rushed to Gabriel lifting her attacker off her and flying him toward the stars. Not a lie. “I couldn’t turn it down.”

  “It’s Sunday. What sort of job has you start work on a Sunday?”

  “You work on Sunday.”

  “I’m a server in a pub. You’re dressed for the office. Where are you working?”

  “Blakemore’s Antiques.”

  “Blakemore’s? No shit? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “What’s wrong with Blakemore’s? It appeals to the history buff in me.”

  “Have you seen Gabriel Blakemore?” Avery’s eyes widened.

  “Of course I have. I’m working for him.”

  “He has quite a reputation.”

  “What sort of reputation?”

  Avery shook her head. “Oh my poor, sweet, sheltered sister. Blakemore is rich, sickeningly so, and mean as a badger. A friend of mine waited on him at Antoine’s, and he practically chewed her head off when the food was late.”

  “Oh,” Raven said, shocked. She remembered the way he’d comforted her and carefully cared for the wound in her head, the one that was gone now because of him. “He was kind to me.”

  “Probably wants to get you into bed.” Avery snorted. “I’ve heard he’s also a playboy.”

  If Raven told her she’d already been in his bed, Avery would have a coronary. She rested a hand on her hip and tilted her chin up, her stomach tightening with the memory of Gabriel’s scent and the red sheets. He’d only touched her arm. She had no reason to believe he was anything but a gentleman.

  “Who do you know who has actually slept with him, Avery?” Not that Gabriel couldn’t have whomever he wanted, but she was a decent judge of character, and he didn’t strike her as the type that slept around. Plus, Avery was prone to exaggeration.

  “No one, personally.” Her eyes shifted. “But look at him. You know that guy is getting some tail.”

  Raven scoffed. “I’m going to enjoy looking at him. Every. Day. Because, unlike you, I’m working for him.” She snapped her fingers and grabbed her purse off the counter. “Gotta go. I’m going to be late.”

  “He’s out of your league, Raven. Way out.” There was not a hint of humor in her voice.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to do anything but work for him.” She motioned at her dress. “Would you buy antiques from me?”

  “Sure.” Avery smiled. “How are you getting there?” It was a sore subject. Raven had never gotten around to renewing her driver’s license. She’d lost it when her brain cancer made it unsafe for her to drive. With a note from Dr. Freemont and some practice, she could get it back, but for some reason she hadn’t made it a priority.

  “I’m taking the streetcar.” She turned back. “Tell Mom about the job. I didn’t get a chance to.”

  “Oh believe me, as soon as I get to the restaurant it will be a major topic of conversation.” She winked over her coffee.

  “If you’re going to gossip about me, make me taller and far more attractive.”

  “Done.”

  She’d reached the door when Avery called her name. “Hey, be careful tonight on your way home. Two guys were killed in the French Quarter last night.”

  Raven swallowed hard and turned back toward her. “Killed?”

  “They found them alive. Victims of a brutal attack. Thei
r blood alcohol level was in the danger zone, so who knows what actually happened. Anyway, they both died this morning in the hospital from complications.”

  Raven nodded, feeling a little sick.

  “Are you okay? You look pale. You should eat something.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be careful. See you tonight.” Raven forced herself out the door and hurried for the streetcar, grasping all at once that she was going to work for a killer.

  Where was she? Gabriel paced outside his office at the back of the store, his fingers tapping so hard they hurt. Raven was his last hope, the last person with any potential he’d been strong enough to bind to him. She was his. His! He needed to know where she was at all times. He should have known, should have been able to track her movements, but he could not. The damned curse must be messing with his abilities.

  His tapping hand bumped a Sèvres urn, and it teetered on its base. Thankfully, Agnes, his salesperson, caught it between her spotted hands and righted it before it crashed to the floor.

  “Try to relax, Gabriel. She’s only ten minutes late,” the elderly woman said. “She’s bound to you. She’ll be here.”

  “She could be injured,” he said. “What if something has happened to her?” A horrible thought passed through his mind. “What if she refuses to come at all?”

  Agnes’s white hair swung at a sophisticated angle. She glared at him through a pair of oversized eyeglasses and wrinkled her nose. “You will force her!” she said matter-of-factly. “Are you a dragon or one of these spineless boys that pass for men around this city?” She waved at the street.

  Of course Agnes, whose bond was working correctly, would not suspect that his power over Raven had been compromised by the curse. Nor would he tell her as much. “I don’t wish to force her,” he said. “People achieve better results when they are invested in delivering them. I want her to want to help us, not be coerced.”

  “How noble of you,” she said, steepling her fingers, “Or might this be about Kristina?” Agnes frowned and lowered her voice. “What happened to her, Gabriel?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Kristina.”

  “So you’ve said.” Her frown became more pronounced, and Gabriel turned away. The less he said about Kristina, the better.

  “Gabriel,” Agnes repeated. She gestured toward the door with her chin.

  Raven stood in the entrance, framed by the morning light pouring through the window behind her. He was momentarily speechless. She might have been an angel with her flawless skin and welcoming smile. Darkness coiled around his heart. Surely this was a side effect of the curse. He was acting like a teenaged boy. He grimaced until his face hurt from the expression of distaste.

  “I’m sorry I’m a little late,” she said. “The streetcar was delayed.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “It was an oyster truck. There was an accident. Oysters all over the track.” Her voice was sweet and her smile warm and genuine.

  “Streetcar?” He winced. He could feel the dragon roil within him, and he tapped his fingers to keep it at bay. “I asked you last night if you had reliable transportation—”

  “I do!” she said. “The streetcar picks up near my home.”

  He scowled. “You have no vehicle of your own?”

  She closed her eyes against the humiliation. “No. I haven’t renewed my driver’s license since I was ill.”

  “From now on, Duncan will pick you up and make sure you are here on time.”

  “No, really, that isn’t necessary. It was a freak accident. I’ll leave earlier next time.”

  “You will not be late again, Ms. Tanglewood.” He purposely used her last name, addressing her like an unrepentant child. She had to learn her place. She was his. He’d saved her from death for his purposes, and she must obey.

  “It won’t happen again.” Her smile faded and her cheeks flushed. Was she angry? She had no right to be angry.

  “You agreed to be mine. You agreed to do my bidding. You must do it. I do not want to have to punish you, but I will if I must.” His voice cracked like a whip.

  “Do your bidding?” There was no smile now, just pure, unadulterated anger. “I agreed to no such thing! I agreed to work for you. That is all. And as for punishing me?” Raven marched forward, her tiny body seeming to fill a space eight times her actual size, and leaned toward Gabriel. “I’ll have you know I am an adult, Mr. Blakemore. I am a free woman. You may be my boss, but you are not my father. You can fire me, but you sure as hell won’t punish me. I suppose you have the right to chastise me for being late, but I hardly think five”—she checked her watch—“ten minutes is a punishable offense, considering the circumstances.”

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and Gabriel thought for a second she might punch him. For some reason, he had to repress a smile. She was a brave little thing.

  “A dragon must manage his investments, you understand. We made a bargain, you and I. I can’t have something happening to you. I need to know where you are and that you are safe. You have cost me dearly.” He tapped the side of his cheek over where his tooth once was. “Has my gift benefited you?”

  Her hands landed on her hips, and she raised her shoulders toward her ears. “Yes,” she said, the word high-pitched and short. “Of course it has. You know it has.”

  “Hmm. Any woman worth her salt would show her gratitude for such a gift by upholding her side of the bargain.” He raised an eyebrow and stepped in closer. “You are bound to me.”

  She gaped at him. “If that’s your attitude, you can shove your bargain right up your—”

  “Is this our new associate?” Agnes positioned herself between them. Not that it was necessary. Her black leather skirt and silver silk blouse were hard to ignore. The woman might be seventy, but she still knew how to command a room. She nudged Gabriel. “Introduce me.”

  “Yes, of course,” Gabriel said darkly. He’d give her hell for this later. “Raven Tanglewood, this is Agnes Rollins, my sales associate. You’ll have to wait to meet our interior designer, Richard Parker. He comes in later today.”

  “He takes his husband out to breakfast every Sunday morning. Isn’t that sweet?” Agnes offered.

  Raven raised her eyebrow and straightened slightly. “Yes,” she said. “Sweet. Amazing he doesn’t get punished for it.”

  Gabriel felt the dragon rise inside him again. Infuriating woman.

  “Would you like me to show Raven around?” Agnes asked, her hand lingering in the vicinity of her throat.

  “Not today, Agnes. Since Raven was late, she needs to start upstairs right away.”

  Agnes folded her hands. “Would you like me to show her where Kristina left off?”

  Gabriel scowled. There was no reason to bring up Kristina. “No. I will do it,” he said harshly.

  Agnes exchanged a glance with Raven and shrugged. “Perhaps we could have lunch together, dear, when you’re ready for a break?”

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “If she has time,” Gabriel snapped. “Come with me. I’ll show you to your work.” He reached for her wrist.

  She pulled her arm away from him. “I can follow you. I don’t need you to lead me by the hand.”

  He growled. Behind Raven, Agnes tossed up her hands, frantically motioning for him to make nice with the girl. He turned and headed for the stairs.

  He’d taken her down this way last night. He wondered how much she remembered. He made a point of stopping on the second floor and pointing out where they sold antique lighting fixtures. On the third floor, he passed his apartment and led her to the adjacent room where she’d be working. Turning his key in the lock, he opened the door for her.

  She stepped inside, her eyelashes fluttering as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. She glanced at him once and again before saying, “Oh, wow.”

  God in heaven above, Raven had never seen a more spectacular library. The sweet, musky smell of old books and leather filled her nose, and the shiny dark wood gave
off a deep luster in the dim light. There had to be thousands of books in here, some that looked hundreds of years old. Housed on shelves that ran floor to ceiling every three or four feet, the books filled the entire length of the building as far as Raven could tell.

  Instantly she became excited about the job again. For a moment downstairs, when she’d come face-to-face with Gabriel’s inflexible and possessive attitude, she’d thought about quitting. Now she was glad she hadn’t. Her fingers itched to investigate these historical texts. She walked deeper into the room, lips parting with the absolute wonder of it.

  “You like books?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I love books. I enjoyed reading as a child, but I grew to love it more after I got sick.” Reading had been her savior, a vacation from reality with every page. Sometimes it was her only way out of her hospital room.

  He stepped closer to her, until she could feel his warmth radiating against her back, and his scent wrapped around her like a balm. She blinked, slowly taking it in.

  “You suffered greatly. I am sorry for this,” he said.

  She looked at him over her shoulder. Her breath hitched. Avery had been right to warn her. He was absolutely arresting. His smoldering eyes alone made her burn from within. “Why am I here? What are these books?”

  “Rare editions. Books about magic and the paranormal. Most are one of a kind.”

  An expert she was not, but she knew enough to question the specifics. “One of a kind? Shouldn’t these be behind glass or in a climate-controlled room?”

  “They are,” he said. “These books are preserved… with magic. My magic.”

  She dropped her chin. “Dragon magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ahhh.” She tipped her head back. “I didn’t know dragons existed before yesterday. I had no idea they used magic.”

  “Dragons are magical beings,” he explained. “There are a few abilities inherent in our nature. We can fly… become invisible. We are faster and stronger than humans. We come from the Mountain, and the Mountain fills us with magical energy. We can perform certain spells when we need to, leveraging that magic.”