by Juniper Hart
If she had a box of dreams that had never come true, the box would be empty except for that one life…
She was rich. She was beautiful. She’d been skydiving, scuba diving, and had been in the deepest depths of the earth with Terran in his palace. She traveled around the world and even had several homes that spanned the globe. She’d met famous people throughout her lifetime and knew many secretes that would never make it to the history books.
She was living the dream. At least, that is what she kept telling herself.
She sighed. She’d keep the anklet just in case she needed it for whatever reason, not necessarily against Hale. He’d be flying in the next morning. When he came in, she could get to the bottom of the whole mess with the Chancellor’s death. She wouldn’t dare tell him that Terran had shown up.
Was it bad that she was hiding things from her boyfriend to protect Terran?
Chapter Three
The next morning came entirely too soon.
She had slept like a log. The funny thing about Cassia was that she slept very soundly, but she flopped around like a beached marlin while doing it. She didn’t feel herself stir, but she did stir. Back when she was first with Hale, she had awoken to find out that she’d whacked him across the face accidentally in one of her movements in the night. It had been funny because he wasn’t hurt. Every time she thought of it, she laughed out loud.
He, however, did not find it so humorous.
Her phone alarm woke her up. She was lying in her king-sized bed in her expansive bedroom with the cool sea just outside the windows. She couldn’t see any guards, but she knew they were there. They always were.
She tried in vain to maneuver from the middle of the bed to one side and attempted to slap the snooze button. Her hand hit something, all right, but it turned out to be a glass. The glass fell off and shattered.
“Ugh,” she groaned, lurching up. “No… Why? I want to sleep at least another hour,” she said out loud to no one in particular.
Her phone kept screaming at her until she shut it up. The broken glass lined her wooden floor where she would normally step out onto with her bare feet. She grimaced. No chance of that now. Part dragon? Yes. Glass-proof? Nope.
She crawled out the other side of the bed to avoid the glass. She was a tiny little thing. Part of her had expected that when she became pregnant and gained the power to shift into a dragon, she would somehow get taller so she’d look less adorable and more dragon-like.
As it was, she stayed petite and nowhere near intimidating. She’d found almost no difference in her old human self and her halfling self, other than that her fingernails grew like crazy. She had to trim them every couple days just to avoid ripping holes in all the furniture. That and her skin was strangely warm all the time.
Terran had told her it was because of the heat inside, but she had no idea. Once, she’d had a car crash and went in for an x-ray to make sure everything was okay. She’d been hurt before, but never so severely. As an immortal dragon, she healed quickly, but she figured it was worth the effort to make extra sure that she was okay instead of just assuming everything had healed. She should have known better.
The doctors had been utterly confused about her test results. Her blood tests came back inconclusive, and her x-ray looked totally wrong, like they’d x-rayed an animal with a high fever. She never went to the doctor again.
She scooted around the glass, trying to get dressed to make it to the landing strip on time. She slipped her sleepwear off and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stared at herself, hard, for a second or two.
After a second, she mock-licked her finger and pressed it against her butt, making a hissing sound with her teeth.
“Damn, girl, you look good,” she told herself in the mirror.
Sometimes she gave herself emotional support. She’d done it ever since she was a kid, back when she wasn’t beautiful enough to have anyone tell her, so she’d had to make up for everyone’s lack of compliments by complimenting herself. Old habits never die.
“Ma’am,” someone said from outside her door.
Cassia turned beet red. One of the guards had been standing there. She’d always had the worst luck. She always caught yellow lights a second too late, always managed to mix her words up at big events to make herself look uneducated, and always was that girl to spill something on someone’s shirt. She didn’t know why. She was a great athlete. She’d was great at sports, so it wasn’t a lack of body control that led to her bad luck. She was simply accident-prone.
“Uh, yes?” she replied.
“The car’s ready.”
“Okay,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I seem to have broken a glass in here. Maybe you could send someone to clean it up?”
“You broke a glass?” came the reply. “Where?”
“It fell off my nightstand,” she replied. “Just…” she groaned. “Just get someone, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His shoes moved away from the bottom of the door, so she went back to changing. She wanted to look good for Hale. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and she wanted him to be impressed. She had several outfits in the running. All she had to do was decide.
She’d narrowed it down to a sleek red dress with a slit along the right thigh and a little black dress that showed off her killer body.
Little black dress.
That phrase always amused her ever since people started using it. It was even some dictionary’s word of the year: LBD. Back she was born, people weren’t so strange. They didn’t have cutesy little acronyms. She was rather fond of saying it: LBD. It sounded naughty.
She held up the two dresses to herself. The red dress was hot and sexy, and it seemed to say, “Come hither.”
On the other hand…the LBD was nice. It fit her like a glove and somehow isolated all her good features. The only problem with it was that it was practically impossible to move in. She was convinced that fashion had always existed to prevent women from moving. Paired with a nice pair of heels to make her look taller, she’d feel sexy in either dress.
Finally, she decided to go with the red dress. Go big or go home, right? It was colorful and bright, just like her personality, but it also felt like it gave off a dangerous vibe. It had a certain don’t mess with me feel to it with the exposed shoulders and confident design. She pulled it on and checked herself out in the mirror.
She glanced back at the door. Nobody was there. She looked back at the mirror, twisting to see her legs under the formfitting dress.
“Hale, you are a lucky man,” she said.
“Hello?” said someone from the door, a woman this time. “I’m here to clean up the glass.”
Cassia didn’t move. She just threw back her shoulders dramatically and groaned, closing her eyes like it would help. Of course. Of course someone had walked up in the half second it had taken her to look away from the door and back at herself. Luck would have it no other way.
“Yes,” Cassia sighed. “I’ll be out in a second.”
She pulled on some heels and opened the door to reveal several members of her guard: two behemoth men and a petite woman sniper.
Cassia was familiar with her guards; she always felt odd getting protected and watched at all hours by strangers, so she’d gotten to know them. The two guys were actually Russian brothers, who were also werewolves. They had given up a career of wrestling after one of the men, Igor, had suffered a career-ending knee injury when he was cut with a silver knife. Now they were both in private protection, and they were some of the best in the business.
The sniper’s name was Sam, which delighted Cassia. She loved it when women went by traditionally male names. Sam was a crack shot in the military when she’d been dishonorably discharged for taking out a target she wasn’t supposed to. Sam was the kind of girl that really loved tattoos, so she had two full sleeves and other ink that practically covered her body. Her favorite was a dragon she had on her shoulder blades.
The t
hree of them were Cassia’s personal security team. Cassia had handpicked them, mostly because they were good at their jobs, but also because she liked them. Igor and Ivan, who had gone by the Fabulous Flying I’s in their wrestling days, were the brute forces that dealt with anyone that tried to directly harm Cassia. The name of their wrestling tag team always made Cassia chuckle to herself. It was terrible, and she had no idea why they had picked it.
Sam was much better suited for taking out targets from a distance, but her size didn’t mean she wasn’t tough in one-on-one combat. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Sam was also Cassia’s best friend. Cassia had never found good friends in Hale’s social circle. Most of the women she met were callous, snobby, and preferred to talk about their newest handbag than anything that really mattered.
Sam was different. She was intelligent, kind, and she could kick anybody’s ass. Over the years, Cassia had become quite close to Sam, who she later learned came from a line of powerful fae blood. When Cassia grew closer to Sam, she once asked her if she had wings like other fairies, and much to Cassia’s surprise, she did. Sam just kept them hidden and kept her fae lineage hidden from most people because in general, fairies were seen as weak.
In addition to all of Sam’s secrets, Cassia also valued her strategic knowledge of where to avoid driving through because of target zones, open areas, and basically anywhere that a sniper could shoot them. The car was bulletproof, so most snipers couldn’t do much more than scratch the paint, but it was nice to talk to Sam.
Hale had made a lot of enemies over the years, which is why Cassia needed to be protected. Typically, she was left alone, which she believed had something to do with her connection to Terran. However, she had been attacked on two separate occasions in the past ten years, which is when Hale increased Cassia’s security, further isolating her from the outside world.
Sam grinned as she looked at Cassia’s dress. “Hale is a lucky man.”
“Oh, shut up,” Cassia hissed, playfully.
The benefits of working for Hale were great—high pay, paid vacations, insurance, the works—but when someone got hired as a security agent, they were stuck working for Hale for the rest of their careers. Everyone knew that. He hated for people to figure out his security and then go work for a rival. They could quit when they retired, which was typically about ten years out because the pay was so high. Supernatural beings stayed much longer because of their lifespans.
Cassia was led towards the car convoy. Hale insisted on having multiple car convoys for safety, which Cassia hated because it made leaving the house a huge production.
Hale’s business as an oil baron was legitimate…mostly. The way Hale liked to explain it was that he, “…owned a rule-following company whose rivals usually failed due to tragic, unforeseeable circumstances.”
Cassia had often questioned Hale’s business decisions—especially when a death was involved—but Hale had always explained his decisions as doing what he needed to do because someone was out to harm him. Cassia believed that the world was full of bad people, and that her boyfriend was the good guy.
Maybe Hale really is the bad guy, Cassia thought. How could I have ignored the obvious all these years?
Hale protected his assets, which is what he liked to call Cassia. An asset. She still wasn’t entirely sure if that was something she could be happy about or not. Probably not.
In the convoy, the first car was the dummy car. If there was a mine or a motion activated trap, that first car was always the first one to find out. The second car was the biggest and strongest vehicle—a military-style car strong enough to plow the remains of car one should that car meet a sudden demise. Then there was car three, where Cassia, Igor, Ivan, and Sam would be. Car four brought up the rear. Cassia never quite understood the role of car four. Maybe it was to avoid anyone ramming her from behind.
All the blacked-out SUVs were lined up and waiting. They loaded up into car three. She never knew her driver. She didn’t like to bother him because he had to be constantly vigilant for threats. All she knew about him was that his name was Ralph and that he had no family. Sad. She was also fairly sure that he was on drugs despite passing the frequent drug tests.
The first part of the drive to the landing strip, Cassia chatted it up with her security team. Igor had met a girl, and they were dating. Apparently, it was pretty serious. Ivan was planning a cruise vacation. Sam had bought herself a twenty-thousand-dollar scope that she was very proud of.
They were laughing and carrying on, but Cassia’s mind kept drifting to her boyfriend.
Finally, she just blurted out what was on her mind. “Do you think Hale killed the Chancellor?”
Sam had been explaining how to successfully do a backflip to Igor (like Igor would ever be able to do that), but she silenced with a stunned expression. All three bodyguards looked over at Cassia.
“What makes you think that?” Sam asked, always the most talkative of the three. “I thought nobody knew who did it.”
Cassia hadn’t actually meant to say anything, but she had, so she had to run with it. “I don’t know. I just… I’d heard they found traces of Hale on the body.”
She didn’t tell them about her ankle bracelet. They were her closest friends, but if she told them about that, Hale might find out. The twins’ loyalty was definitely to Hale, not her. And Hale knew how to extract information.
Hale was very persuasive when he wanted to be. He even had a special room for his questioning. Cassia wasn’t allowed down there for the obvious reasons—he didn’t want her to see what was going on in there.
Wait. Wait, wait, wait… She wasn’t going to turn on her boyfriend that fast. Hale had always been nice to her, and he did save her on the few occasions her life had been in danger. When she questioned his business practices and dealings, he always had good explanations. She trusted Hale. Didn’t she?
Cassia collected herself. Surely, Terran must be wrong.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Terran.”
Cassia mentally slapped herself. Dammit! She was trying to keep that secret!
The three bodyguards leaned back, startled by the name of the dragon. Terran’s name carried a weight with it. He had quite a reputation, and the three of them knew he’d also been Cassia’s ex-husband a million lifetimes ago.
“Don’t take his word for it,” Igor huffed. “You know you can’t trust him.”
“But I can,” she protested half-heartedly. “He’s never lied to me.” She couldn’t stop herself from talking.
“Hale hasn’t either,” Sam pointed out, while giving Cassia a warning look with her eyes. It was obvious Sam didn’t want Cassia to say anything stupid in front of the twins.
Cassia couldn’t agree with that. She’d never caught Hale in a lie, but she had a feeling that he was just exceptionally good at it, not that he was honest.
“Can we just forget I said anything?” Cassia asked. “It’s silly. I shouldn’t have said anything. I trust Hale. Just please don’t say anything about this. I totally trust him. And please don’t mention Terran. It would really cause a lot of problems for me.”
Her three guards smiled. Cassia hoped she could trust them.
The car convoy pulled up at the landing strip. Strangely, Cassia felt her stomach tighten and her palms begin to sweat. She had no idea why. Hale was the same man that had left only two weeks ago. She knew him and knew him well. It’s not like he had changed. But she still couldn’t get that picture of him on the subway in New York out of her head. She could live with him just fessing up and admitting that he had been there, but he’d outright told her that he hadn’t.
She was stuck. Did she believe Terran or Hale? She was a firm believer in the fact that there aren’t versions of the truth. There’s the simple truth, and that’s it. There are not separate editions of the truth, no spins. It’s truth, plain and simple. Either Terran or Hale was telling the truth.
Why were
things so complex?
The obvious answer was that Terran was telling the truth. When her mind chose to ignore her ex-husband’s words and believe Hale, she felt a knot grow in her stomach. When her mind bounced back to believing Terran, the knot released, but panic took hold. Both versions of the truth were complicated and just plain awful.
So she just waited for her boyfriend.
Chapter Four
When Hale deplaned his private jet, his eyes immediately fell on Cassia. He was dressed in a custom-made Italian suit, and she watched as his dark hair blew in the warm, summer wind. He was handsome. Really handsome. But something wasn’t right. He looked tired, worn down, and was covered in sweat.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Cassia, my love. I am so glad you decided to meet me here instead of waiting at home. I have missed you.”
“I missed you, too!” She lied.
Cassia’s eyes trailed to the two bodyguards standing behind Hale. She was never fond of them. They were brutes. Hale’s personal guards were savage beasts that dressed in men’s clothing.
Cassia waited for Hale to compliment her dress and how she looked, but her heart sank when the compliment never came. Hale’s eyes were on her, but his mind was elsewhere, which was evident by the glazed-over expression he wore.
When he approached her, she expected a warm embrace. She longed to smell his familiar scent of frankincense and pine. She hoped they could talk it out, so she could put her worries behind her.
But then, he didn’t say anything. He just gave her a stiff hug and brushed on past, like he was eager to get to the car and go back home. She stood silently, clearly surprised.
She turned to catch up with him. He was walking fast, abnormally fast.
“How was the trip?” she asked.
“Long,” he replied.
A one-word answer, really? He couldn’t put forth the effort and say two words?
“Did you get it done?” He’d originally told her he took the trip to close a deal.
“Yes.”
She scowled. What the hell was wrong with him? He could normally at least feign an interest in a conversation. The guy was a natural-born salesman. He could prattle on like a schoolgirl when he wanted to, but he was evidently not in a talkative mood.