“Yes, sir.”
“I need to speak with Evan Caine of Caine Industries as soon as possible. Contact his office and set something up. And call Roberto’s and order lunch.”
“Yes, sir.” She left as silently as she’d arrived, closing the door softly behind her. She knew Mr. Temple had already dismissed her from his mind.
Victoria sat at her desk and found the contact information on Evan Caine. She knew the name, had seen it mentioned in several reports. The man was heavily involved in pharmaceuticals and medical research, just as her boss was. Unlike Mr. Temple, Caine was also heavily invested in weapons development.
Why does he want to speak with Caine? The two men were competitors in a very cutthroat business. They hadn’t had any real business dealings since she’d started to work here, at least none that she was aware of. And she was aware of all of Mr. Temple’s legitimate business affairs.
Her breath caught in her throat. Could this have something to do with his illegal activities, with the group that calls itself the Knights of the Dragon? She’d often assumed at least some of his business associates were also members. It only made sense they would be, but she’d never been quite able to figure out who might be involved.
Of course, she could be totally wrong, and this could be nothing more than a normal business discussion of some kind. Only time would tell. But it was out of the norm for her boss. And that gave her hope.
With the excitement welling up inside her, she was amazed her hands were steady when she picked up the phone and made the call.
“Mr. Caine’s office,” a deep male voice announced when the call was answered.
“This is Herman Temple’s personal assistant calling. Mr. Temple would like to arrange a phone call with Mr. Caine as soon as possible.”
“What is it pertaining?”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Temple did not give me that information.”
“Hold.” The line went silent, and Victoria waited. She didn’t wait long. “Mr. Caine can speak with him in two hours.”
“Thank you.” She ended the call. With that job done, she called the restaurant and ordered lunch. Her stomach was churning. Maybe she was making something out of nothing, but her instincts were buzzing. Of course, the only way she’d know for sure was if she had a vision of some kind while she dreamed.
Quitting time couldn’t come soon enough for her today.
…
Herman stared at his hands and watched them tremble. He didn’t recognize the wrinkling skin and the dark spots.
Each day that passed, he was getting older. Instead of springing out of bed in the morning, now every muscle protested. He was slower when he walked, his stride shorter. Even his mind had slowed down. He could no longer easily or accurately pull information from his memory.
It had to stop.
He needed dragon blood, and he needed it now. The dragon he’d kept for years had managed to destroy itself months ago. He’d planned to capture Varkas to fill that vacant spot. Then everything had fallen apart.
Herman rose from his desk, went to the antique mahogany sideboard, and poured himself two fingers of whiskey. It was only early afternoon, but he didn’t care. The twenty-five-year-old liquor burned his throat when he tossed it back without really tasting it.
He’d worked for decades and spent billions trying to figure out a way to create dragon blood in a lab, all to no avail. He’d also had his scientists working on trying to find ways to make the potency of the blood last longer. Freezing helped somewhat, but nothing was as good as fresh.
And that was what Herman needed.
He knew some of his fellow Knights had dragons. He also knew they wouldn’t share with him. He’d made enemies over the years. They all had. There were alliances in their world, but he was now on the outside. His so-called former friends had cast him aside now that he could no longer provide what they needed. He had no doubt that many would happily raise a toast to his death.
That left him dealing with the likes of Evan Caine.
The man was something of a recluse, even among the Knights. He’d been around for quite some time, but no one really knew how old he was. That meant he had a source of dragon blood. And Herman wanted some of it.
He was prepared to buy, to pay whatever Caine wanted. After all, he could always make more money, but only if he was alive. There was no coming back from dead.
His intercom buzzed, and he quickly answered, for once not making his assistant wait. “Yes.”
“Mr. Caine’s office is on line two.”
He hung up on Victoria and grabbed his office phone. “This is Herman Temple.” He remained standing, even though his legs were shaking. He hated the sign of weakness.
“One moment please,” the monotone male voice told him.
Herman gritted his teeth. He hated the delay, knew it was a negotiating tactic, a reminder that while he needed Caine, Caine didn’t need him.
He glanced at his Piaget watch and counted off the seconds. Two whole minutes went by before Caine finally came on the line. “Herman, I’ve been expecting you to call.”
Negotiations were on.
“You have something I want, and I’m prepared to pay for it.”
Caine chuckled. “Oh, you’ll pay, all right. Let’s talk.”
Chapter Three
Victoria curled up on one end of her sofa with her plate in her lap and the television on in the background. She wasn’t really interested in the food, and the program on the screen couldn’t hold her interest.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. It had been a long day, even though she’d finished up at the office before five. She’d been tense the entire morning, and the rest of the day hadn’t been any easier.
Mr. Temple had spoken with Evan Caine. She had no idea about what. The best she could hope for would be to have a vision about it when she dreamed, but she feared that it wouldn’t happen. She was beginning to wonder if she was fooling herself to think she would ever discover the truth.
She opened her eyes and picked up her fork, forcing herself to take a bite even though she wasn’t really hungry. Her stomach was tied up in knots thinking about her job and trying not to think about Luther.
She set her plate aside and dragged the soft cashmere throw over her, making a cozy nest. The television droned on in the background. She rested her head on a pillow and watched with the sound on low.
All around her, people were living their lives, going to work, loving and laughing with their partners and spouses. A single tear tracked down her cheek, and she brushed it away, impatient with herself. She’d made her choices and couldn’t unmake them. Wouldn’t change them if she could.
Her drakon friend was out there somewhere, hurt and trapped. She had no idea what she could do to help him and his wife escape. She was only one woman. But she had to try.
In all her years, Sergei was the only living creature who had ever made her feel special, as though she had value as a person.
It was a sad commentary on her life.
With the light still on and the television droning in the background, she closed her eyes. She knew she should probably get up and go to bed, but that seemed like too much trouble.
…
Luther was in his Manhattan apartment tonight, the one he used for show, the place that was listed on his employment form. His real home was a hole-in-the-wall, basement apartment in a not-so-safe part of the Bronx, where everything that was important to him was housed in a state-of-the-art safe hidden in the floor. He rarely went there, only when he knew he wouldn’t be missed or followed.
He knew he was watched and often trailed when he left work. Temple didn’t trust anyone. So Luther spent most of his nights here. It wasn’t a hardship. The place had everything he needed, but he hated being hemmed in, like a hamster in a cage spinning on his wheel.
He sprawled out on the massive sectional sofa that took up most of the living area and considered his options. Temple was keeping a closer eye on
him of late. Ever since the former head of security had disappeared, things had been tenser. Of course, his predecessor had turned on Temple and helped one of his fellow Knights.
Luther couldn’t say any of them in that group were truly friends. They weren’t enemies, either. They were competitors, each of them trying to outdo the other. All of them wanted wealth and power. But most of all, they wanted a dragon.
It was the stuff of fairytales and myth, but Luther knew it was all based in fact. There were more creatures on this earth than the average person would believe.
He could never relax, never truly let down his guard, because he knew more than most and was a part of this secretive and powerful group. Most days, he didn’t mind the pressure. In fact, he thrived on it. He had a mission, a goal.
But there were days, like today, when not being able to trust a soul was draining.
Victoria popped into his mind, a welcome diversion from his dark thoughts. Too bad he couldn’t trust her. She was too close to Temple. But that didn’t stop him from fantasizing about her.
He groaned and flopped onto his back, resting one of his feet on the floor and the other on the sofa cushion. His erection tented his lightweight sweatpants, a visceral reminder that he hadn’t had sex in a very, very long time. Most people wouldn’t believe him if he told them it had been over two years since he’d last felt the hot clasp of a woman’s body.
But since the day he’d joined the ranks of Temple’s mercenaries and begun to make his way up the ladder to the Knights of the Dragon, he’d stayed away from women. He couldn’t afford the distraction or the connection. Anyone associated with him could potentially be used against him.
He wouldn’t take the chance with an innocent. Not even a woman he picked up in a bar for an evening. He knew too much about the Knights to assume they wouldn’t use any leverage against him they could find.
He also wouldn’t put it past Temple or the others to try to insert a woman into his life, one who’d potentially spy on him. That was something Luther would never allow.
As far as they knew, he was single and focused.
That was true, but it didn’t mean he didn’t get horny, especially when he was in the presence of Victoria for part of the day.
He grunted, shoved his hand inside his pants, and pushed them down. He gripped his cock and began to slowly pump.
He wanted to know what she looked like beneath those prim suits she wore. They were tailored to not showcase her form, but they didn’t manage to hide it, either. Appropriate business attire. But the hints of color that teased him from the neck of her jacket always tantalized him. Today, it had been blue.
His balls ached. He spread his legs wider and began to pump harder and faster.
What else was she hiding under those suits? She had spectacular legs. The shoes she wore might not always be the best for walking, but there was no denying they made her legs look like they went on for miles.
He closed his eyes and pictured what she would look like slowly unbuttoning her jacket and sliding it off. His fantasy continued with her unzipping her skirt and giving her hips a little shake so the garment fell to the floor.
The blouse came next. One button at a time until it was hanging loose. He imagined her in a white lacy bra that cupped her breasts and matching panties covering her mound.
He groaned and kept his eyes shut, not wanting to lose the erotic fantasy he was creating in his mind.
Fuck, he wanted to touch her so badly. Wanted to tug her bra aside and cup her breasts, to learn their shape as he squeezed and caressed them. Wanted to tug her panties down, crawl between her legs, and taste her arousal.
He came, and hard spurts of his semen coated his stomach and chest. He’d needed the release. When he was totally spent, he rested his forearm over his eyes and took deep breaths until his heartbeat returned to normal.
Luther swore and reached for the napkins strewn on the coffee table left over from the takeout pizza he’d had for his supper, using them to clean up the worst of the mess.
He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Victoria. It could mean his life. Temple and the Knights didn’t play around. They’d lie and murder to protect their secrets. He couldn’t bear it if he were responsible for getting her killed because of his interest. And he certainly didn’t want to die. He had people counting on him.
He shoved up off the sofa and deposited the napkins in the garbage before heading to the shower. It didn’t take him long to get cleaned up. He didn’t linger and kept the water on the chilly side.
After he dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, he turned to the mirror and studied himself. He wasn’t classically handsome. His features were too rugged, too blunt. He had a hard jawline and a high forehead. His body was honed, a weapon to be used.
Tattoos swirled down his left arm and chest and lower. These particular markings were dangerous in his line of work, but they were his birthright, his heritage, proclaiming who he was. He was proud of them, but he had to hide them for his own safety. He covered the bulk of them using waterproof makeup and synthetic skin. He’d made friends with people who worked in the movies and theatre and paid handsomely for the best products available.
What would Victoria think of his tattoos? Would she recognize them? Was she in deep enough with the Knights that she would understand their significance?
It doesn’t matter what Victoria thinks. As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t afford to touch her. His body had other ideas, his cock tenting against the towel. Luther tossed the towel aside and ignored his erection. He pulled out his supplies and went to work until half of his tattoos were covered. When he was satisfied, he stowed his supplies and turned off the lights.
He entered the bedroom, threw himself down on the king-size bed, and stared at the ceiling. It was never truly dark in the city. There were always lights shining from businesses, other apartments, streetlamps, and cars.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. It was a cold winter’s night outside, and the air in the apartment was chilly. The wind seeped in through the corners of the windows. Luther didn’t reach for the covers or bother with clothing. He forced his body to relax and his mind to go blank. He needed sleep. Tomorrow would be another busy day.
…
Victoria shivered. She was cold but didn’t want to move. Blackness surrounded her like a protective cocoon. It might not be real, but she felt safe. It wouldn’t last. It never did. But she hoarded such moments like a miser so she could relive them when she was particularly scared.
Her mind drifted, as it often did when she slipped into a dream state, and she became aware of another person—Luther Henderson. But it was Luther in a way she’d never seen him before.
Oh, she’d recognize his short blond hair and rugged features anywhere. She was used to seeing him clothed in the tailor-made suits he favored. All of the other men who worked security wore black pants and tight black shirts. She figured it was to show off their physiques and make them look tough. But Luther was tough, and not even the finest tailored suit could hide it.
Now, there was nothing hiding him, not even a blanket.
His big body took up the entire mattress where he sprawled. She shivered again, but she was no longer cold.
He was like a sleek tiger, dangerous and clever. It occurred to her that his suits were camouflage, a way to make him seem not quite so deadly, to lull others into underestimating him.
She’d never make that mistake.
Why am I here? Was their interaction at work today responsible? She was never in charge of her gift, had never been able to force her talent to focus on a specific person or place no matter how hard or how often she tried—and she had tried. Her mind took her where it willed.
Still, she couldn’t complain. While she’d never have the courage to approach Luther in reality—it was too much of a risk considering his position—she could certainly admire his physical form.
She let her gaze flow over him. He really was perfect.
His arms and legs were roped with muscle, his abs chiseled. He had a tattoo covering part of his torso and shoulder, but many people did nowadays. Nothing unusual there. But it made him appear even more dangerous.
It had to have been painful to have gotten such intricate work done. Not that she’d know. She did want one, but she’d never been able to decide what to get. Before marking something so permanent on her skin, she’d have to be sure it was something she could live with forever. She wished she could see the design and colors better, but there wasn’t enough light.
Her gaze halted at his groin. Even though his lower half was in shadow, she could see he was very aroused, and his cock was on scale with the rest of his body—large.
A restless pulse began to throb low in her body, and she moaned.
His eyes popped open. She had a sense this wasn’t the past, but one of the times she was actually watching what was unfolding in real time.
“Victoria?”
This was new territory for her. She was always an observer, no matter if she was viewing a vision of the past or if she was seeing a moment as it happened. It was like watching a movie. No one ever sensed her presence, and she was never a part of the action. Never.
“You can see me?” Her hand flew to her mouth. She never spoke in her visions, either. She glanced down to find she was wearing the same nightgown and robe she’d donned earlier before she’d curled up on the sofa with her dinner.
Luther shifted and sat up. “This isn’t right.” His statement of fact pulled her back to her current dilemma. “If this was really my dream, you’d be smiling at me and getting naked.”
She swallowed heavily. Okay, now she was really getting hot. Did that mean he’d had thoughts about her before now, erotic fantasies?
“No, it’s a dream.” It was a dream, but a lucid one they were sharing. That made more sense than anything. Maybe he was asleep, and she had somehow drawn him into her vision. That was unprecedented, but it could explain what was happening.
She wanted to get closer to him but was afraid to move. The last thing she wanted to do was snap the tenuous connection between them. It was wrong, but she couldn’t make herself leave. Not yet. Surely, if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d write it off as pure fantasy. Anything else was too unbelievable.
Drakon Unchained Page 3