Drakon's Prey (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

  “Damn woman didn’t learn anything the first time around.” He watched with mounting anger as she overloaded herself again and again. She made a total of five trips to the woodpile before she was satisfied she had enough wood for the stove and the fireplace. He was just glad she hadn’t hurt herself…yet.

  The way she was staring at the woodstove was making him nervous. Still, she didn’t just throw some wood inside and light a match. She studied it, checking the flue and the oven. She practiced removing the metal covered tops with the handle and returning them to the top of the stove.

  She tore bark from the wood to use as kindling and stuffed it around several chunks of the wood. Finally, she seemed satisfied and reached for the box of matches on a shelf next to the stove. He held his breath as she lit the match and set the flame to the edges of the bark. It flared and she pulled her hand back.

  Tarrant watched, as fascinated as she by the flames. They lowered and almost flickered out, but the wood finally caught. “Woo hoo!” she shouted, and did a little victory dance, wiggling her hips and jumping around the kitchen.

  He couldn’t look away from her hips. He just wished she wasn’t wearing the damn coat.

  When Valeriya settled back down, she set the metal cover back into place and pulled the kettle on top of it. Then she rubbed her hands together and turned to stare at the fireplace.

  …

  Valeriya was feeling victorious. She had a fire going in the woodstove and the kettle boiling. There was something very primal and satisfying about making fire. The most she’d ever done before was light a candle.

  Now that the stove was going, it was time to face the fireplace. This was her main source of heat, and it was cold outside. She’d freeze tonight if she didn’t figure out how to keep a fire going.

  She should have looked it up online before she’d left town, maybe watched a video or two. The locals had warned her she’d get spotty to non-existent internet service so high in the mountains.

  She’d figure it out. She went into the living room, crouched down beside the fireplace, and looked up the chimney. She couldn’t see if it was blocked, but there was a metal lever. It was stiff, but she got it to move and opened the flue partway.

  Next came the firewood. She set several large logs in the grate and used more bark as kindling. Using the matches from the kitchen, she lit the bark. Flames flared and then receded. “Come on,” she coaxed. She leaned forward and gently blew on the embers. She’d seen that in a movie once, and it did seem to help.

  She prayed and lit another match.

  It took much longer than the woodstove had, but finally she had a cheery fire going. She sat back on her heels and stared at the flames. She was exhausted. Gathering supplies had been nerve-wracking. She knew there were men in town keeping a watch for her. What she wasn’t sure of was whether or not they’d seen her leave town. She hadn’t sensed anyone around her or seen a car following. And she’d been looking for them, not only visually but also with her gift.

  All the way on the drive up, she’d half expected a vehicle to overtake her. What would happen after that, she really didn’t know. It had almost been a shock when she’d arrived here without them making contact.

  She could only hope they were still watching her motel room. That since they’d already checked out the cabin, they wouldn’t bother with it again. At least not for a day or two, until they realized she wasn’t still in town.

  She wasn’t foolish enough to believe they wouldn’t come back, probably sooner rather than later. Chances of Mr. Varkas showing up were low, especially if he caught wind of the men skulking around. The smart thing for her to do would be to leave, but she just couldn’t make herself do that. Not yet.

  There was some reason she needed to stay. She didn’t question the sense of knowing deep inside. She only hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake, one that might cost her dearly.

  Unpacking, carrying armloads of wood, and starting two fires had worn her out. The combination of stress and physical activity had depleted her reserves. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That was hours ago, and it had only been some toast and tea at the local diner.

  “Time to eat.” Talking out loud made her feel not quite so isolated. Besides, there was no one around to hear her, so it didn’t matter. Living alone, she was used to talking to herself. She also did it while she worked on her books, reciting the story out loud to decide if it was working. Since she wrote books for children, and they were likely to read aloud, it made sense for her to do it, too.

  Steam was finally billowing from the spout of the kettle. Valeriya hurried to the kitchen and shifted it over to the other side of the stovetop. The small cast-iron stove was radiating heat, and it made her realize just how chilled she was.

  She opened several cupboards and found the dishes. The mugs were old, but there were no chips or cracks in them. She rinsed one and then dug out her selection of teabags. She chose a berry blend. As she poured hot water into the mug, her hand was shaking from a combination of cold, fear, and hunger.

  She’d bought a dozen containers of soup. All she had to do was add water to the container, let it sit for a minute, and then stir. She decided on chicken noodle. She was in dire need of comfort food.

  While the soup was doing its thing, she carried her tea into the living room and set it on the scarred coffee table. Then she went to the bedroom and collected her sleeping bag. The way things were looking, she’d be better off spending the night out here in front of the fireplace. The sofa was an ugly shade of green, but it was better than the floor.

  It took her a few minutes to settle on the surprisingly comfortable sofa with her sleeping bag wrapped around her. She had the soup cradled in her hands and her tea within reach.

  The flames crackled merrily in the fireplace, and the chill was starting to come off the air. She had food, shelter, and warmth. Now all she had to do was wait and see if anyone showed up.

  …

  Tarrant sat back in his chair, sipped his coffee, and watched Valeriya eat soup from a plastic container. Some tendrils had escaped her ponytail and lay haphazardly around her neck and shoulders. Her skin seemed even paler than before. She looked tired.

  She was curled up on the sofa, covered by a navy-blue sleeping bag that looked new. He was glad she had it, as there were no blankets on the bed. He found he didn’t like the idea of her being cold.

  She was proving to be more resourceful than he’d imagined. And that worried him. Was she truly what she seemed, or was she working with the Knights?

  Either way, he’d watch her. As the old adage went, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. And he was much closer than she realized. His bunker was just below the cabin, only a short climb up the hidden staircase. Friend or enemy, it was certainly no hardship to watch her.

  When she finished the soup, she finally removed her coat. He leaned forward. “Come on.” He wanted to see what she looked like beneath that bulky garment. He groaned in frustration as she kept the sleeping bag around her. “Why couldn’t she have come during the summer months?” He’d love to see her in a halter top and pair of shorts.

  There was more than enough heat down in his lair, and Tarrant was starting to sweat. Imagining her in a tight pair of shorts raised his body temperature by a few degrees. It had also made his dick jump to life.

  His phone rang, distracting him from his physical discomfort. He sighed and answered. “I told you I’d call if I learned anything.” Honestly, Darius was worse than an old lady.

  “Darius told me not to call, but I was worried.”

  A smile touched his lips, and Tarrant felt the warmth of her concern wrap around him. “Hey, Sarah.” She really was a drakon whisperer. Even he hadn’t been able to stay suspicious of her for long, and God knows, he was a mistrustful bastard. “How are things on the other coast?”

  She laughed. “I’m loving Ezra’s island. I mean, who owns an island?”

  “We all do.” He had several in various loc
ations around the world.

  “Get out. Darius didn’t tell me that.”

  Knowing he was going to aggravate his brother, Tarrant gave Sarah more information. “Ask him about the one he has in the Caribbean.”

  Sarah gasped. “You mean we could be somewhere tropical and warm? Somewhere away from the Knights?”

  Shit, he hadn’t meant to stir up quite that much trouble. Before Tarrant could explain, Sarah was talking again.

  “Of course, we couldn’t leave the country. Not with you, Ezra, and Nic here and the Knights searching for a drakon.”

  His brother had found a one in a million, maybe even a one in a billion woman. Even Nic, who loved to gamble, would never have bet on any of them finding someone like Sarah.

  “Now tell me about the woman who came to the cabin?”

  Tarrant didn’t want to talk to anyone about Valeriya. She was his. Possessiveness welled up inside him, and he had to force it back. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

  “She came back?” She started to speak but then had to stop and placate Darius. “I told you I was calling him,” she informed his brother in the background.

  Tarrant couldn’t help but grin. Darius had his hands full with Sarah. She was independent and strong. His glance went back to the computer screen. Valeriya was still curled up on the sofa. She was also proving to be independent and strong.

  “I have you on speaker,” Sarah told him. “Your brother is worried about you.”

  “Nothing to be concerned about. Valeriya came back. She seems to be alone, but I expect the Knights are out there somewhere.”

  “Be careful.” Darius was a man of few words, and blunt to a fault, but Tarrant never doubted for one second that he would lay down his life for any of his brothers.

  “That’s my middle name,” he quipped.

  Darius snorted and Sarah shushed him. “Just don’t take any risks,” Sarah told him. “The Knights don’t know about you,” she reminded him.

  “I’ll call you when and if I know more.” He ended the call, tired of talking. He wanted to watch Valeriya.

  Her eyelids slowly closed and she dozed off in front of the fire. He wanted to wrap his large body around hers and warm her, comfort her, protect her.

  “Shit.” He raked his fingers through his short hair and kept one eye on her as he went to work. His business empire didn’t run itself. Thankfully, he needed little sleep and could skim documents in a fraction of the time it took most humans. He could read and process huge amounts of information very quickly. It was a talent, one that had allowed him to build the empire he had. He spent several hours taking care of the most pressing work and firing emails off to top staff.

  In the meantime, he was also running in-depth searches on all the known Knights and their associates, compiling dossiers on them all. It was tedious work, but then again, he thrived on this kind of job. Information was his life’s blood.

  When an outer perimeter alarm dinged, he wasn’t surprised. He’d been expecting company.

  He brought up the cameras and nodded when he noted the men from yesterday moving silently through the woods. They were both wearing nondescript dark clothing and had their faces covered, but he could tell it was the same two by their builds and the way they moved.

  From everything he’d observed, they weren’t with Valeriya. Either that or they were pretending not to be. He turned on the audio and was surprised to hear them talking.

  “This is such a shit assignment,” the man in the lead complained.

  “You don’t know that,” the other pointed out.

  His partner stopped and faced him. “We’re glorified babysitters.”

  Tarrant willed them to say more, but they went silent. They were heavily armed and dressed all in black. Camouflage would have been a better option for the woods, but they still blended well with the forest.

  They crept up to the cabin. Tarrant grew more tense the closer they came. It wasn’t himself he was worried about, but Valeriya. She was unarmed and vulnerable.

  The leader of the two sidled up close to the cabin and peeked in the window. He moved away quickly and went back to his partner. “She’s sleeping like a baby.”

  The other man snorted. “I wouldn’t mind having her in my bed. She’s got some serious curves.”

  “She’s got good tits, but she’s a little too heavy for my liking.”

  Tarrant’s entire body shook. Scales began to form on his arms. “No.” If he shifted down here, he risked destroying some, if not all, of his computers and other specialized equipment. There simply wasn’t enough room for his dragon. The beast wasn’t happy. It wanted to destroy both men, to stomp them into the ground and then set them on fire for talking about Valeriya like that.

  “I’ll protect her,” Tarrant promised. His voice was low and guttural as he struggled with the other half of his nature. The dragon was more primal and wanted to protect what he considered his. And he’d decided that Valeriya belonged to him.

  He glanced at the screen. “They’re not going inside.” If they did, he’d kill them. That helped his dragon settle back down.

  Valeriya’s eyes suddenly popped open and she sat upright. Her gaze went directly to the window that the Knight had peered through only seconds before. Just as she had the day before, she seemed to be aware that there was some threat nearby. It was the kind of instinct he usually associated with animals, not humans.

  She shoved the sleeping bag off her legs and slowly moved toward the window. He noted that she stayed off to the side and cautiously peered out.

  There was nothing to see. The men were too well hidden.

  Valeriya rubbed her hands up and down her arms. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she knew they were out there. Interesting, since the men didn’t seem to think she was aware of them.

  When she tugged the drapes shut, Tarrant got a sinking feeling in his gut. She did know they were out there. Was this a trap? Or was Valeriya playing some deeper game?

  Was she hoping to find or capture his brother? If she wanted to advance in the ranks of the Knights, that was the sure way to do it. Maybe she thought the book Darius and Sarah had stolen was still around. Tarrant didn’t think the Knights were aware it had been destroyed. They might suspect it, but they couldn’t know for sure unless Father Simon had told them. And Tarrant knew that hadn’t happened.

  There was only one way to discover what Valeriya was really up to.

  Tarrant settled down to watch, waiting as the minutes ticked away and night slowly arrived.

  Chapter Five

  To say she was feeling a little unsettled was an understatement. Valeriya knew there was someone outside in the woods. She could sense them watching her. But it was more than that. Something in the air had changed. The cabin, which had felt welcoming and warm, now seemed sinister and dangerous.

  “It’s just your imagination,” she assured herself. “Just because it’s dark outside.” And it was pitch black. There were no streetlights, no ambient light from other houses or businesses. She was totally alone except for the men skulking in the woods. She hoped they were freezing their butts off out there.

  At least they seemed content to simply keep an eye on her. Good thing, since there were no locks on the doors and she doubted pushing a chair in front of them would stop the men for long if they decided they wanted inside.

  She added another log to the fire and went back to the sofa. She’d been working all afternoon, refining her ideas for her new book. They were flowing, as were the sketches. She probably had enough for several books. The real work would come when she started polishing both the story and the art. When you were dealing with children, both had to have an immediate impact or you’d lose the reader.

  She tugged the sleeping bag over her legs and thought about making some supper but couldn’t work up any enthusiasm. She munched on a cracker from a box she’d brought over earlier.

  “I want a pizza. With gooey cheese and lots of roasted veggies.” Her stomach gro
wled in agreement. If she were home, she could nip around the corner to Gino’s and get exactly what she wanted. There was no nipping around the corner to anything out here. Civilization was more than an hour away by car. And even that wasn’t real civilization. More like an outpost.

  What was she doing here? She’d put her life in danger on the slim chance she could help save a man from whatever fate the Knights and her sister had planned for him.

  All her life, she’d felt helpless when it came to the Knights, but no longer. Now she was actively doing something. It might not be much, but it was all she could do.

  Valeriya knew her sister wasn’t going to allow her to stay on the sidelines much longer. She’d had sensed it the last time they were together. And she trusted her senses. They never led her astray.

  And right now, they were screaming that she was in danger from some unseen foe. Was it the Knights or someone else? She wished her grandparents were still alive. They were the only people who’d ever truly loved and accepted her. Her grandmother had used her intuition to avoid getting tangled in the web of the Knights, and she’d taught Valeriya to do the same. It had worked for years, but it seemed as though her luck was about to run out. She was getting in deeper with each passing second.

  She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. God, she wasn’t cut out for a life of danger. She was an ordinary woman who wanted an ordinary life. She had a job she loved, but her family history meant she’d never been able to make connections. The one thing she’d always wanted was a family of her own, and it was the one thing she’d never have.

  “Stop with the pity party.” She was disgusted with herself. She had no right to complain about her life. It had been one of comfort and privilege, bought with the blood of others.

  If it came to it, better to be dead than to live a lie any longer. And if she could help one person, one drakon, along the way, she’d count her life well lived.

  There was still a chance whoever was watching her would leave her alone. She’d stay a couple of days. If Darius Varkas didn’t show up, she’d go home knowing she’d done all she could do. It had been a long shot to think she’d find him here. She had a life waiting for her back in New York. It might not be much by some people’s standards, but it was hers, and she’d fight to hold on to it.