Drakon Unchained

by N. J. Walters

  Oscar was already changing. He didn’t complain as he pulled on sweatpants and a gray T-shirt that had obviously started its life as a white one. He sat on the bench and laced on a pair of sneakers that Gordon had dug up from somewhere.

  All while he dressed, Oscar watched him.

  Luther unbuttoned his shirt and hung it in the locker, sensing Oscar’s gaze on his back. He turned and stared back. “What?”

  “That’s some tattoo.”

  Luther glanced at the swirling two-toned design that covered part of his torso and his upper shoulder. “It is.” He pulled a dark-blue T-shirt over his head.

  “Where did you get it?”

  Luther didn’t like Oscar’s interest in his tattoo. “Got it a long time ago.” He hoped his tone made it clear he was finished with the conversation. Oscar wisely kept his mouth shut while Luther finished dressing.

  “This way.” Luther led the way out of the locker room to a fairly secluded area of the gym. Gordon had taken up his perch at the desk once again. Luther curled his fingers toward Oscar in a come-and-get-me motion. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  …

  Victoria wished she could leave. She was in no mood to work. And where was Luther? It wasn’t fair. A couple of days ago, she wouldn’t have given him another thought. Okay, so that wasn’t quite true, but she wouldn’t have been obsessing about where he was.

  Last night’s dream had changed everything.

  She’d seen the man naked. Yes, it had only been through one of her visions, but they were real. She knew exactly how he looked when he was sprawled on his bed. The man didn’t wear anything when he slept.

  She fanned her face before she caught herself and resumed work, but the image wouldn’t leave her mind. Even at rest, he was still a force to be reckoned with. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. Not surprising considering what he did for a living.

  Being fit was one thing, but Luther was built like a god. Grow his blond hair out long and give him a hammer and he could be a Viking, maybe even Thor himself. Yeah, she could see him with a metal band around his arm, his chest bare as he raced toward his enemy carrying a hammer in one hand and a sword in the other.

  Okay, stop this. Right this minute. She could not afford the distraction. It was his fault. He’d spoken to her in their shared dream. How was she supposed to pay attention to work with the memory of last night still so fresh?

  Then he’d talked to her this morning. Usually, he said hello or nodded. But not this morning. No, he’d actually had to go and get her coffee.

  I’m being totally ridiculous. So a handsome man paid attention to her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed a man to complete her. She’d done just fine without one. And this was no time to think about changing things. She had a trip to plan for and a long-term goal to reach.

  She picked up her pen and began to jot a list of what she needed to pack. The last thing she wanted to do was forget something important, and she freely admitted she was more scattered than normal. She usually had no problem focusing on work and whatever task she had to complete, but life had turned itself upside down. First, last night with Luther, and then this morning with Mr. Temple announcing she was joining him on his business trip.

  It was no wonder she was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand.

  The phone rang, and she was grateful for the distraction. It was Mr. Temple’s line. “Yes, sir.”

  “I need to speak with Henderson.”

  “Yes, sir.” She waited until her boss hung up and then called Luther’s phone. Anticipation bubbled inside her at the prospect of speaking with him, but she ruthlessly crushed it. And it was all for naught, as the phone rang three times before it finally went to voicemail.

  “Mr. Temple wishes to see you immediately.” She added the time to be on the safe side and ended the call. Then she contacted the security office.

  “Yeah,” the man answered.

  “This is Mr. Temple’s office calling. He wishes to speak with Mr. Henderson.”

  “Henderson went out with Denning.”

  “Do you know where or how long they’ll be gone?”

  “He said they were going to a gym, and he didn’t say how long they’d be gone.”

  “Thank you.” She ended the call and took a deep breath to calm herself. Why had Luther left the building with the new hire?

  Not looking forward to his reaction, Victoria connected to Mr. Temple’s line. It rang three times before he answered. He never answered on the first ring, preferring to make whoever was trying to contact him wait, even her.

  “Well?”

  “Sir, Mr. Henderson is not answering his phone. Security says he left with Mr. Denning to go to a gym.”

  Her boss actually chuckled. “I imagine Luther is testing out the new man before the trip. I want to see him as soon as he gets back.”

  “Yes, sir.” She was talking to dead air. She hung up and placed another call to Luther’s phone, informing him to report as soon as he got back.

  She couldn’t believe he’d left the building when there was so much to be done for the trip. Or maybe he didn’t need to do as much as she did to get ready. They’d gone to a gym, but she didn’t think it was to lift weights.

  How had Mr. Temple put it? Testing the new man. That meant he and Denning were fighting. She and Denning hadn’t really been formally introduced, but she knew who he was, had seen him around the building. He was big and fit, but not as big as Luther.

  That settled her nerves a little, but not much. She glanced at the clock. Quitting time wouldn’t come soon enough for her. She needed to leave work a couple of hours early so she could go home to pack and regroup before the trip.

  First, she had to get through the day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

  Chapter Six

  Luther sized up the man standing across from him. Oscar didn’t attack or make any sudden moves. He just circled steadily around Luther searching for an opening. Oscar was shorter, but his shoulders were broad, his body lean. He was obviously in shape, but it was the glint of experience in his gaze that told Luther he would be a worthy opponent.

  “Why did you join up with Temple?” Luther asked and then led with his right arm before quickly following up with a left jab.

  Oscar ducked, dropping beneath both punches. “I told you when I was hired. This is a life you can’t just walk away from.”

  In spite of the fact there were no other men around them, Luther was impressed Oscar kept his answers vague enough so if someone did overhear, they wouldn’t get much of anything from it.

  And Oscar was right. The Knights of the Dragon were not an organization you simply retired from. Not when you’d reached as high as Oscar had. He knew too much about them and their secrets.

  Luther waited, knowing sometimes silence was a weapon. The two men continued to circle one another. Oscar pivoted, bringing his right leg up as he did so. Luther jerked back. The sole of Oscar’s shoe missed his chin by a hairsbreadth.

  He laughed. Oscar was full of surprises.

  Luther went on the attack, pushing hard, but not too hard. The last thing he wanted to do was seriously injure the man, not when he needed him to be able to travel later today. But he need not have worried. Oscar bobbed and weaved, blocked punches, and even took a couple without falling.

  Luther was impressed.

  “What can you tell me about Evan Caine?” That was one of the reasons they were here. Luther needed to know as much as he could before heading into unfamiliar territory.

  Oscar dropped his hands slightly but didn’t lower them completely. This was a man who was always on his guard. Which was probably why he’d lived so long.

  “Not much.” He glanced around and took a step back before resting his hands on his hips. Breathing heavily and sweating, Oscar took a moment, forcing Luther to wait patiently. “Dent didn’t have much to do with him. I don’t think they were exactly friends.”

  “None of them are friends.” That
was Luther’s blunt assessment of the group. While he wasn’t nearly as winded as his opponent, he inhaled deeply.

  “True, but they’ll work together, if necessary, if it will benefit them.”

  Luther lunged forward, and Oscar threw himself to the side and rolled back up onto his feet. He delivered a kick to Luther’s kidney that drove him forward a step. He grinned. Damned if he wasn’t enjoying himself.

  “Dent was killed.” Luther didn’t have to say how, nor did he want to discuss dragons in public. That Oscar had survived was interesting when all the other men on the team had perished.

  Oscar narrowed his gaze, but he maintained calm and poise, even with his shirt plastered to his skin with sweat and his lungs heaving. “Yeah, he did. What are you getting at?”

  “Just making conversation.”

  Oscar snorted. “Sure. Next we’ll be going out to get a drink after work. If you’re hitting on me, that’s all fine and good, but just know I don’t roll that way.”

  Luther wanted to laugh but managed to keep a stern expression on his face. He suddenly wished his life were different. Oscar might actually be someone he could be friends with. But considering their positions, he couldn’t afford to trust anyone.

  Not Oscar. Not Victoria.

  Anger, sudden and savage, rolled through him like a tsunami, wiping all else from existence. Beyond talking, he strode to the heavy bag in the corner and began to pound it. Even then, he forced himself back under control before he could do any real damage to the bag.

  Every time his fist connected, he saw the faces of the Knights before him. He knew some of them, but not all. Not enough of them. It would never be enough for what they’d taken from him.

  He hated them all with a passion that burned in his gut. That had given him a reason to get up and go to work for a man like Temple every single day for the past two years. And he was still no closer to his goal.

  Sweat poured down his face, and his shirt stuck to his body. Still, he pounded the bag. He didn’t worry about damaging his hands. They were as hard as his head, and he’d been working out this way since he was a boy. His father had taught him to use exercise as a way of channeling his frustration and anger.

  When he finally felt some semblance of control, he took a step back and leaned forward, hands resting on his thighs. He pulled in several deep breaths and stilled. He slowly raised his head and looked to his right. Oscar was leaning against the wall watching him. He hadn’t left.

  “Impressive.” Oscar nodded at the bag.

  Luther only grunted, not quite ready to talk.

  Oscar strolled over and tossed Luther a towel. He grabbed it and rubbed it over his face. “Thanks.”

  Oscar nodded. “Evan Caine is rumored to have something the other Knights want.”

  The words were little more than a whisper, but they were loud and clear to Luther. He slowly lowered the towel and stared at the other man. “You’re sure?”

  Oscar dragged his fingers through his hair, the first sign of agitation he’d shown. “No, I’m not sure. It was a rumor. Dent was excited about it and then angry after he’d spoken with Caine.”

  That could mean one of two things. Either Caine didn’t have a dragon, or he had one and wasn’t about to share with the other Knights.

  “Why are you telling me now?” Luther didn’t exactly trust Oscar, and he knew the distrust was mutual.

  “Because I barely escaped with my life the last time I faced one of those creatures. Because we’re going to face a rattlesnake on his own territory. I’d like to make it out alive.”

  Those were reasons Luther could trust. They rang true. They were a small group going into unfamiliar territory. If they hoped to make it out alive, they’d have to be on their toes. For as civilized as the Knights pretended to be, they were backstabbing liars at their cores.

  “Good enough. Let’s get changed and get back to work.” Temple would certainly have missed them by now. The last thing Luther needed was to get his boss pissed off enough to leave him behind. He had to go on this trip.

  Oscar fell into step beside him. “Good kick,” Luther told him.

  One corner of Oscar’s mouth tilted upward. “Thanks.” He tapped his jaw where a light bruise was forming. “Good left.”

  Luther slapped the man on the back, and they headed for the showers.

  …

  Oscar let the hot spray cascade over him and washed quickly. Now was not the time to linger. He wiggled his jaw back and forth and winced slightly. Luther had one hell of a punch. Oscar suspected he’d been pulling it, that Luther could have easily broken his jaw if he’d wanted to.

  Thankfully, he hadn’t wanted to.

  Oscar cut the water and grabbed one of the towels from the stack on a shelf just outside the shower room. He rubbed it over his head and body before wrapping it around his waist.

  Luther was right behind him.

  Oscar tried not to stare at Luther’s tattoos. The swirling silver design was outlined in blue. It was a very familiar pattern, but it was incomplete. He’d seen a very similar design in different colors not that long ago covering the left-hand side of his friend Nic’s body.

  Difference was, Luther’s tattoo only came to the top portion of his upper arm, not all the way to his wrist. And while the tattoo continued down part of his leg, again, it didn’t go all the way to his ankle.

  Oscar began pulling on his clothes. Luther opened his locker door and did the same. With the door partly blocking his view, Oscar couldn’t tell if the tattoo covered his groin or not.

  He didn’t like what he was thinking. Luther was big enough, strong enough to be a drakon, but he didn’t have the necessary tattoo. Or at least he didn’t seem to have it. He wished he could get a better view, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  Was there more to his tattoo? Had he covered it with something? Oscar knew there were such things on the market that could do that.

  That was unlikely. A drakon working for the Knights of the Dragon? That would be suicide. It would also be a brilliant way to find out more about the secretive group. How better to destroy them than to come at them from the inside.

  After all, wasn’t that what he’d done? As a member of the Dragon Guard—a group founded thousands of years ago to protect drakons from the Knights and groups like them—Oscar’s job was to infiltrate their ranks, uncover information, and hinder them in any way possible. Their membership was small, but they were a dedicated group. But there was secrecy even among their ranks. Every member knew no more than one or two others. It was set up that way to protect them in case someone betrayed them.

  Unfortunately, it had happened over the long years. People got lured by greed and the promise of near immortality.

  Oscar had never imagined he’d come to know actual drakons. They were reclusive and distrustful creatures, and with very good reason. Nicodemus Wilde was a friend and a valuable resource. They were in contact. Not often, but Oscar already had him investigating Luther and the others in Temple’s employ.

  He glanced back at Luther, whose shirt and jacket were covering the markings on his skin. It was likely that Luther knew about the drakon’s having tattoos, which were really birthmarks, and had had one done. That made his new boss a hardcore member of the Knights.

  Yet that didn’t quite add up, either. Oscar trusted his instincts, and while they were telling him to tread warily, he wasn’t getting the stone-cold-killer vibe he got from most of the other men who worked in the upper levels of security for the Knights.

  He had no doubt Luther could kill, had killed. You didn’t get to be in his position if you hadn’t been tested. But there were men who liked to kill, who thrived on it, lived for it. Oscar had met far too many of them over the years. He had a sense that Luther wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but only as a last resort. And he wouldn’t enjoy it.

  Luther was taking a chance showing him the markings. Maybe it was a test to see just how much Oscar knew? To see if he’d comment.

  He
finished tying his boots and grabbed the borrowed workout gear to hand back in at the desk.

  Luther had his familiar suit back on and was just pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

  Oscar nodded. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He just couldn’t shake the feeling there was a lot more going on here than met the eye. He needed to warn Nic just in case he went missing.

  He got a lump in his gut but ignored it. He’d have to go home long enough to pack for the trip. It would give him time to make the call.

  …

  Luther dropped his workout bag back in the office while Oscar handed his gear in to Gordon at the desk. Luther knew Gordon would wash the clothes in his bag without being asked. He tipped well for the extra service.

  He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone. There were two messages, both from Victoria. He played the first one.

  “Mr. Temple wishes to see you immediately.” Luther closed his eyes and savored the sound of her voice. It was low and husky.

  In spite of expending a lot of anger and energy during his workout, his cock immediately jumped to life. Good thing he was about to head out into the cold again. He needed something to cool his ardor.

  He wished like hell Victoria wasn’t involved with Temple. That she wasn’t going on this trip. She was being dragged deeper into the murky dealings of her boss. After this trip, there might be no way out.

  He was determined to make sure that didn’t happen. He had no idea how he’d accomplish such an impossible task, but it wouldn’t be the first seemingly unattainable goal he’d given himself.

  Luther played the second message.

  “Please report to Mr. Temple’s office as soon as you arrive back at work.”

  Temple knew he was gone. Knew he’d taken Oscar with him, too. Security would have informed Victoria, and she’d have told her boss. Luther glanced at his watch and swore. He’d been gone longer than he’d expected. Working off his anger had taken quite some time.

  He strode back out to the front desk where Oscar was waiting for him. “We need to get back. Temple wants to see me.” As he passed Gordon, he slipped him a fifty. “Thanks.”