Drakon's Prey (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

  The evening had closed in early, and Valeriya decided to call it a day. She set her sketchbook on the coffee table, in case she got any more ideas later. She went to the bedroom long enough to collect her sleep pants and top and carry them to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, not sure how long the hot water would last, donned her night clothes, and added a pair of thick socks. In spite of the stove and the fireplace going all afternoon, there was still a chill in the cabin, especially in the bedroom.

  She packed away her clothes and grabbed her hoodie. Layers were the way to go. She grabbed her hairbrush and took it to the living room. She was really starting to feel the chill.

  The fire was crackling away in the grate, but it was a little low. She added another log. She should probably do the same with the stove, but it seemed wasteful since she wasn’t planning on making tea until the morning. She had no idea how long the wood supply she had would last, and didn’t want to waste any. Chopping trees wasn’t really in her skill set.

  She went to the window and peeked around the edge of the curtain she’d drawn earlier. All she could see was darkness, but she knew they were out there.

  The windows groaned as a blast of wind struck them. She lowered the curtain, went back to the sofa, and curled up under her sleeping bag. She should probably crawl into it, but liked it better spread out as a blanket. The sofa was facing the fireplace so heat shouldn’t be a problem during the night.

  She picked up her brush and ran it through her damp hair. The repetitive action soothed her nerves, but she couldn’t keep it up all night. She finally set the brush aside and braided her hair.

  She shivered, and not because of the cold. Something was going to happen, and it wasn’t going to be good. But there was nothing she could do about it. She could only deal with whatever occurred. She was on her own out here in the wilderness. There was no one to help her but herself.

  Valeriya was lonely. In the city, it was easy to ignore the pangs of loneliness among so many people. Out here with just the wind and the unknown men waiting in the woods, she felt just how alone she truly was.

  No one would know if she disappeared or was killed. Her agent and publisher would care, but that was mostly because of their business relationship, not because they were friends. She wasn’t sure if Karina would be upset if something happened. How sad was that?

  She sighed and pulled her covering tighter around her. She’d always dreamed of a hero coming to rescue her. As a child, it had been a dragon—a big, fierce creature who would protect her from her family. As an adult, she’d realized she had to save herself. So, she’d left home and struck out on her own. She’d built a life, and most days she didn’t even think about her sister or the Knights.

  But at moments like this, she felt more like a child than an independent woman. And while she no longer wanted or needed a man to save her, a friend wouldn’t go amiss.

  She closed her eyes and pulled up the image of her childhood imaginary friend. Not surprising, it had been a drakon—a child who could be both human and dragon. She’d always thought that was the coolest thing ever. Still did, which is why she wrote about it. But the dragon in her book was just that—a dragon. The world wasn’t ready to know about drakons, even in children’s fiction.

  She hadn’t thought about her imaginary friend in years. He’d have grown up like she had. He’d be a man now. The image of a tall, dark-haired man popped into her mind. Suddenly, she wasn’t cold at all.

  …

  Tarrant watched the screen for hours, stopping only long enough to get something to eat. Even then, he’d taken his laptop with him so he could keep an eye on both Valeriya and the men watching her.

  The men were currently camped just out of sight of the cabin. One of them was sleeping while the other kept watch. They had to be cold, but they hadn’t built a fire.

  Valeriya, on the other hand, had a small blaze going in the old stone fireplace. She was curled up on the sofa, looking both innocent and beautiful. She’d rooted around for a bit but had eventually settled. That had been hours ago. She’d been asleep for quite some time and her fire was getting lower as it devoured the wood. Dawn was close.

  It was time to make his move.

  He pushed away from his desk and went to the titanium door that guarded his domain. He opened it, stepped inside the elevator, and the door silently slid shut behind him. “Up.” The voice-activated elevator began to move upward.

  Maybe what he was doing was stupid. No, scratch that. It was extremely stupid, but he was tired of waiting for the Knights to make a move. It was time for him to make one of his own.

  Valeriya was a pawn in the game between the Knights and the drakons, whether she realized it or not. She either had information or value. Maybe both. She might be exactly what she seemed to be, or she might be working with the Knights. Either way, he’d find out.

  He stepped out of the elevator and made sure his computer lab was secure. No way would he give her access to it. Even if she could get past all his safeguards, which she couldn’t, he’d never trust a woman with his secrets. Not when his brothers’ lives were at stake.

  He stalked down the hallway and into the living area, stopping in front of the hidden staircase. His heart was racing, not with fear but with anticipation. He would soon have her locked away in his home with his other treasures.

  “She’s not a treasure,” he reminded himself as he opened the door and started up the staircase. “She’s a hostage. A pawn. A useful tool in the war.” His beast wasn’t happy with his assessment, but the fact Tarrant was going to collect her calmed the creature.

  He paused outside the entrance to the cabin and listened. There was no sound. He pressed a hidden lever and the wall slid silently away. Tarrant stepped into the kitchen. As a safety precaution, he closed the door behind him. The kitchen cupboard slid back into place. No one looking at it would ever imagine it hid a staircase.

  Tarrant walked lightly on the floor. He knew where every creaky board was. It took him only a few steps to reach her. He stopped on the back side of the sofa and peered down at Valeriya. The image on the computer screens hadn’t done her justice.

  Her full lips were slightly parted as she breathed deeply. Her skin was pale and smooth. Her hair was black, but even with it braided he could see the sheen reflecting the firelight.

  She had to be cold, because she had the covering tucked up to her chin. Even as he thought it, she shivered. He remained motionless. He was hoping she was a deep sleeper and wouldn’t wake while he moved her. Otherwise, he’d be forced to subdue her.

  If she called for help and the men from outside came to her defense, things could get ugly.

  She rooted around some but settled back to sleep. Tarrant waited several minutes before moving around to the front of the sofa. He reached down and gathered her in his arms, sleeping bag and all. She was light, especially with his extraordinary strength, but he felt invisible fetters begin to wrap around him.

  He almost put her back and left.

  Then she sighed, her breath warm on his neck, and snuggled closer.

  Tarrant was lost, and he knew it. He carried his precious cargo back to the kitchen and activated the switch to open the door. He had to go almost sideways down the stairs, but he soon had her in his home. He carried her down the hallway and paused outside his bedroom before silently swearing and taking her to the guest room.

  The baseboard lights, activated by his presence, came on low. He set her in the center of the bed and reluctantly released her. She snuffled around and frowned as the cool bedcovers touched her skin. “Drakon,” she whispered before settling down once again.

  Tarrant froze, and the fine hair on his nape rose. Did she know he was here? Did she know who and what he was? Was this nothing more than a setup?

  But Valeriya was breathing deeply and her body was limp. Unless she was the best actress in the world, she was sleeping.

  He forced himself to leave her. He still had work to do.

 
The door didn’t have a lock, but she wasn’t going anywhere. There was no way she could leave without getting by him, and that wasn’t going to happen. He hurried back out to the living room and up the hidden staircase to the cabin. He didn’t bother with the food in the cupboards. It was all canned and boxed and would be fine.

  He went to the bedroom and gathered her clothing, tossing what was laying around into the case before closing it. Her knapsack was in the living room. He paused long enough to grab her laptop, tablet, and sketchbook.

  The fire was low enough that it would burn itself out by morning, so he left it alone. In under two minutes, he was back in the secret staircase. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door to his home shut behind him. Only he and his brothers had access. Valeriya Azarov wasn’t going anywhere.

  Something inside him settled. He carried her suitcase down the hallway and set the bag in his room. He’d go through it later. He had to get rid of her computer first. He took her knapsack back to the kitchen and drew out her phone, computer, and tablet. He had no qualms about digging in her bag for what he wanted. Her privacy didn’t matter. Only his safety and that of his brothers did.

  He checked her phone to see if she’d been in contact with anyone before he removed the battery and SIM card. She hadn’t sent or received any calls. That was unusual and slightly disturbing. Did she have no one in her life? Or was she just cautious? Regardless, there was no way for anyone to use her phone to pinpoint her location, or for her to use it to contact anyone.

  Then he did the same with her computer and tablet, searching them before turning off the GPS and removing the batteries. He was tempted to simply destroy all the devices, but he didn’t doubt all the story ideas, pictures, and drawings on them were important to her.

  Why he cared wasn’t a matter he was willing to delve into too deeply.

  For all intents and purposes, Valeriya had dropped off the map. She and her belongings were gone. The car was still outside, but he’d left the key on the table just inside the door. If they checked on her at all, the men outside would believe she’d given them the slip.

  Tarrant already knew what agency she’d used to rent the car. He called and arranged for them to pick it up, paying the owed fee with a prepaid credit card he’d set up in her name. He was nothing if not thorough. And he was king of the online world. This was child’s play for him.

  If the men still thought Valeriya was inside, they’d learn differently when the people from the car rental agency came to pick up the vehicle. Tarrant wondered what they’d do then. It would be interesting to watch. Would they leave or would they send more men into the woods searching for her?

  Either way, he’d made his first move in this latest war the Knights had started when they’d come after his brother and killed his friend.

  Satisfied with what he’d done, he tucked his phone away and picked up her knapsack. He paused when he caught sight of her sketchbook. She’d worked nonstop all afternoon, and he was curious. Somehow this seemed much more intimate than checking her phone and computer. But that didn’t stop him from opening it.

  The first few sketches were of trees, flowers, and several kinds of mushrooms. He recognized them as local, growing in the surrounding woods.

  She had a delightful fairy creature seated cross-legged on a particularly large toadstool. The fairy was playing a harp, of all things. A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Valeriya had the fairy in several other poses. In the margins, she had jotted what he realized were stories ideas and pieces of dialogue.

  He flipped another page, and his heart almost stopped. Staring back at him was a large dragon. This was different from the one that starred in her children’s series. That dragon was friendly and more childlike. This one was fierce and dangerous. Deadly. It was drawn in black and white, and it looked surprisingly like him.

  He was halfway to the bedroom before he caught himself. He wanted to demand to know where she’d seen the creature. Since real dragons didn’t exist, this had to be a drakon in his dragon form.

  Had she seen one that the Knights had captured? Had she been a part of it?

  His gut burned, and a fury like he’d never known welled up inside him. He began to shake. Inside him, his dragon roared—not in anger at Valeriya, but in anger at him for daring to think she could be a part of such an abomination.

  The Knights were the true monsters, wrapped up in their self-righteous drivel about protecting mankind from evil. What they really wanted was drakon blood to prolong their pitiful lives and give them power.

  Too many drakons had died. For too long, they’d stayed in the shadows, not engaging the humans. Always, they had been attacked. It was time to bring the war to the Knights.

  And if Valeriya had had a part in any of their atrocities… He couldn’t even finish his thought. The idea of hurting her burned like acid in his bloodstream. It was sobering to realize he couldn’t hurt her no matter what she’d done.

  He’d known she was dangerous to him, but until this moment, he’d truly had no idea just how much. He’d be better off killing her now, before he grew more attached to her, before his dragon demanded he keep her.

  A whisper of sound alerted him to the fact he was no longer alone. He glanced down at her sketchbook, all but crushed in his hands, and then slowly looked up at Valeriya, who was standing at the entrance of the hallway.

  Chapter Six

  Valeriya had been scared many times in her life, but if she combined them all, they still fell short of what she was experiencing right now. The man watching her was gorgeous. He was huge, well over six and a half feet tall, for sure. He had short, jet-black hair, and his facial features were strong, all planes and angles. Her fingers itched to draw him. His eyes were glacial blue. An aura of danger seemed to permeate the air around him.

  He was also furious.

  It didn’t take her intuition, her ability, to tell her that. All she had to do was look at him. She had no idea who he was or how she’d gotten here—wherever here was. Had he drugged her? She didn’t feel groggy, but that didn’t mean anything. She had no idea how much time had passed. It had to have been a substantial amount, since she was no longer in the cabin.

  Waking in a strange room in a strange bed had scared the crap out of her. She had no idea where she was or what, if anything, had been done to her. The only thing that had allowed her to stay calm was the fact she was still fully dressed, with her sleeping bag covering her.

  What she found even more frightening was the fact that her gift had failed her. Her intuition always alerted her to danger. Always. Her grandfather had always teased her and her grandmother that they were psychic. They’d both preferred to use the word gifted. It was weird enough to be able to do what she did without the label making her feel even more strange.

  And she was procrastinating, thinking of something that really didn’t matter because she didn’t want to confront the reality facing her.

  While she’d been sleeping, at her most vulnerable, someone had taken her.

  How was that even possible? At the slightest threat, she should have woken.

  Did that mean this man, whoever he was, wasn’t a threat? Not likely. All she had to do was look at him to know he was dangerous.

  The room where she’d woken up had been stark, but it was no prison cell. And the door hadn’t been locked. Of course, now that she was facing the stranger who was her captor, it was no wonder. There was no way she was getting past him. There was a door on the far wall, but it was closed and there was a security panel beside it. No, she hadn’t been placed in a cell, but that’s what this entire place was—one large prison.

  She almost wished she’d stayed in bed with the sleeping bag pulled over her head, rather than leaving the dubious safety of the bedroom to search for answers. But there was no going back now.

  “Are you with the Knights?” Better to go on the offensive and act more confident than she actually felt. The fact he didn’t blink meant he was aware of who and what the Knig
hts were. Her hopes plummeted and her stomach knotted.

  “Now that’s an interesting question, isn’t it?” His voice was deep and sent a flash of heat rocketing through her.

  She forced herself to look away from him and focused on her belongings strewn all over the large granite countertop. She didn’t know who this man was, but his kitchen was like something out of a magazine, with white shaker-style cupboards, gleaming hardwood floors, and stainless steel appliances. Her artist’s eye captured it all in a heartbeat.

  Then she noticed her phone and computer sitting on the large kitchen island. “You went through my things?” she accused.

  He crossed his arms over his massive chest. It was difficult not to notice the way his biceps bulged and the fabric of his T-shirt tightened. “Of course I did.”

  “Of course you did.” Valeriya felt like she’d fallen down a rabbit hole, but this wasn’t Wonderland. “And why was that?”

  One corner of his mouth turned upward. It wasn’t a smile—more of a smirk. “You can’t be that stupid.”

  She bristled at the implication. “If you didn’t want me contacting anyone, why didn’t you just leave my phone and laptop behind when you took me?” She knew her calm demeanor was a false one and that she was in shock. Good thing. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her screaming and throwing things.

  She curled her fingers toward her palms.

  He stirred and unfolded his arms. He didn’t move toward her exactly, but that didn’t stop her from feeling threatened. Her legs trembled, but she held her ground.

  “I didn’t want to leave a trace of you behind. It was better to take everything, disable the GPS, and remove the batteries.”

  Valeriya had trouble swallowing past the huge lump in her throat. That wasn’t good. If he didn’t want to leave any trace of her behind, that meant one of her sister’s enemies had found her. Karina would have had her taken home. Wouldn’t she? Valeriya was no longer sure about anything. But she was under no illusions about the Knights of the Dragon. They were all power hungry and ruthless. Whoever sent him, it could only mean one thing. “You’re going to kill me.”