by Lauren Smith
“I do.” He reached across the table and stroked a fingertip along her arm as he spoke. “My older brother is a respectable businessman. My other brother, well, he’s a…” Rurik snorted as though whatever he was thinking was amusing.
“He’s a what?” she asked.
His green eyes burned into hers with mischief. “An international jewel thief.”
Her heart jolted. “A jewel thief?” Was he kidding? There hadn’t been anything in the files on that. All she knew of the brother Mikhail was that he’d lived in England for a few centuries and had recently gotten into a deadly fight with an English dragon. It was part of the reason the serum had come into the Brotherhood’s possession. But international jewel thief? Rurik had to be kidding…right? She started to pull away, but he curled his fingers around her arm, possessive but gentle.
“Afraid of me again? I never promised that I was a good man. My family, well, we are quite the opposite, especially me.” His words rolled along her skin, giving her goosebumps. They scared her, but not enough to make her run. She couldn’t let him know she knew what he really was. She had to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Are you in the Mafia, the Russian Bratva or something?” Yeah, that sounded like a proper question to ask. No way that could get her in trouble. Sheesh.
The hard smile he flashed her sent a wave of heat through her.
“Bratva? Those fools have nothing on my family.”
That was the truth. She’d spent the last few weeks reviewing everything she could about the Barinov family, and they had survived countless numbers of attempts by the Bratva to rub them out or marginalize their power. The smart ones learned to leave the Barinovs alone. The dumb ones didn’t last very long.
I really shouldn’t be here doing this. But she had to prove that she wasn’t a helpless little girl anymore. She just wished she had chosen a less harebrained way to do it.
“So you’re a Russian club-owning badass,” she said.
His lips twisted into a crooked grin. “Something like that.”
“Does that mean you’re dangerous?” She was teasing, but she also wanted to see if he would argue he wasn’t. He’d already admitted he wasn’t a good guy, but she was curious to see how far he’d open up about himself to a “mere mortal” who wasn’t supposed to know what he really was.
“I—” The apartment door chimed.
Rurik growled to himself and left her to answer the door. A man in a waitstaff uniform rolled in a cart with covered serving trays. He paid the man, who set the dishes on the table and promptly rolled the cart back out.
“What kind of apartment building has room service?” she asked as he lifted the lid to reveal two steaks with asparagus and mashed potatoes. She’d always loved a good steak.
“I own this building, and I like the convenience, so I had a skilled kitchen built in. My tenants are wealthy and happily pay for room service when they want it. I hope this is all right. I assume it’s a more American fare?” He passed her a white napkin rolled over silverware.
“Yes, this is perfect. Thank you,” she said. “So if you own the building, I take it the nightclub business pays well?”
“Well enough, but my family has always had money, and my oldest brother is quite good at investing.”
Now that made sense. The Brotherhood’s files indicated the Barinovs seemed to have a good source of wealth from collecting jewels over the centuries. They were obviously shrewd investors too. She was about to ask another question, but Rurik cut her off gently.
“Enough about me. I’m more curious about you.” Rurik took a bite of his steak before continuing. “Why visit Russia? Surely Russia in the middle of winter is not a good vacation spot. I could picture you on a tropical island in a teeny red bikini.” He winked.
Charlotte blushed. “I’m not really the bikini type.” She’d always felt too self-conscious to wear something so revealing on a body so curvy. The tight-fitting dress she wore now was bad enough, but there was no way she would wear a bikini in public.
“Then why Russia?”
Charlotte shared part of the truth. “I’ve always loved history. I wanted to see the Winter Palace while it snowed, but the forecast for the trip seems to indicate only rain, so I decided not to travel to Saint Petersburg. But still, there’s lots to see here.” She’d loved learning about the czars and the whole Anastasia mystery when she was younger.
Rurik’s rakish grin faded, and his eyes softened with shadows of sorrow.
“The Winter Palace is quite beautiful when it snows. We used to have the most wonderful winter balls there. Outside, the windows would glow with gold light, and you could hear music drifting across the ice and snow. In a world of white and heavy winter silence, the palace was brimming with colorful life.”
His gaze grew distant. He seemed to be seeing something past her, many years ago. He probably didn’t even realize the slip he’d made by admitting he’d been there when the palace had hosted balls. Charlotte couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live as long they did. She wanted to know more. She had so many questions about his life as a dragon, but she couldn’t reveal herself. Not yet. It might get her killed.
Rurik focused on her again. “I think I know someone powerful enough to summon snow, if that is what you wish.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He dialed a number and spoke a few seconds later.
“Grigori…” He grinned at her. “Can you make it snow in Saint Petersburg tomorrow, say around noon? I’m taking a lovely young woman to the Winter Palace.” He listened to Grigori, the oldest brother, Charlotte remembered from the files. “Thank you.” They hung up. “Grigori will make it snow for you.”
Charlotte laughed, pretending to assume he was only teasing her. But she couldn’t help but wonder if what he was saying was possible. Nordic ice dragons were able to manipulate precipitation. But Grigori, Rurik, and their third brother, Mikhail, were Russian Imperials. Perhaps Grigori would call in a favor?
It occurred to her that while she was here she wanted to gather as much data as she could from Rurik. She would have to collect blood samples from him both before and after the serum was administered. She wanted to see if he could confirm if dragons had anything in common with the latest research coming from studies on Komodo dragons.
Researchers at George Mason University had created a synthetic version of a peptide found in the blood of Komodo dragons. They had dubbed it DRGN-1. DRGN-1 had proved to be tough against microbes. Bacteria stuck together to create biofilms that attached to surfaces and help to protect themselves during an infection. Even infected wounds healed faster with DRGN-1, and the layers of skin were rehabilitated. If Rurik and other shifters had similar peptide structures in their blood, it might explain how their bodies aged so slowly and healed so quickly.
I could change the world, make it a better place. What she really wanted was to find a way to make the human world and the supernatural world have a way to communicate, to build trust. It would solve so many problems, but neither world was ready for that yet, which meant her options were limited. It eased the guilt of what she was planning to do, but only just. She was lucky that Rurik distracted her with his company.
They ate the rest of their dinner, conversation flowing easily between them. She was surprised how much he seemed at ease with her and she with him. He was charming, more so than she ever expected of a nightclub owner who rode a motorcycle, but then, he was more than a thousand years old and had been born into an age of chivalry.
“So, your two brothers…” She pushed her empty plate away and waited to see if he would talk more about them.
“Grigori and Mikhail.” A glint of humor made his eyes sparkle. “Both are my elders. Grigori is the head of the family. He only recently married. He and his wife are already expecting a dr—a child, I mean.” He corrected himself, but Charlotte suspected he’d almost said drakeling, the dragon shifter term for children.
“That’s wonde
rful.” She leaned back in her chair, relaxing.
“It is. I cannot wait to see that child run circles around my uptight brother.”
“And Mikhail…the international jewel thief and all-around man of mystery?” She tried to sound teasing. Most women wouldn’t stay for a midnight snack in a man’s apartment when he told her that his brother was a criminal.
His expression was suddenly shadowed with sadness. He played with his empty bourbon glass, rolling it between his palms. “Mikhail was gone for a long time. Our father made a rash decision. He disowned Mikhail and prevented him from returning to Russia, but my father is gone now. Mikhail is finally home. He too has settled down and married. He kidnapped a gemologist when he stole his jewels.” That flash of humor was in his eyes again. “It worked out in the end.”
She laughed, playing along with his comments as though he were still telling tall tales.
“And you? Any siblings? Any overprotective brothers I should know about?”
Charlotte was caught off guard by the alarmingly accurate query. A nervous giggle escaped her.
“Yeah, actually, I do have two very protective brothers. Neither of them even knows I’m here.” Now that was certainly the truth.
“They wouldn’t approve of you being here?”
“Not in Russia. Not anywhere, really. I’ve never even left the United States before, if you can believe it. They would flip out if they knew I’d come here alone.”
His brows rose. “You’re alone in Moscow? No friends? No one?”
She shook her head very slowly.
A scowl stole over his features. “Your brothers are right. That is very dangerous. Moscow is a dangerous place. You had a taste of it tonight at the club. I love my country, but it has a heart of darkness beneath the glittering surface. You aren’t safe here alone.” He rose from the table and towered over her again, his eyes darkening to a burnished gold. She backed up even more as he invaded her space.
“Imagine. A man like me could take you, little rose. He could make you his, possess you in every way, and you would have no chance of escape. No way to get home. No recourse. No salvation. Do you understand? A man like me would be very tempted by an innocent young creature like you.” His words softened into a deep, threatening purr.
She peered up at him from beneath her lashes, trying to still her shivering. “But you won’t…right?”
He curled his fingers under her chin, lifting her face up to his. “Are you quite sure about that?”
3
Don't look back and don't run. You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention. ―Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
Charlotte was lost in his gaze all over again. “You… It’s like you’re making me dizzy… How do you do that?” she murmured dreamily. It was just like at the club when he’d convinced her to dance in the cage for him. She wanted to do anything he asked—anything. It had to be the power of hypnosis dragons had. It felt like he was mesmerizing her. Her being turned on by all this, however? That had to be the pheromones at play.
He blinked, his eyes no longer golden, and with a low growl he turned his back on her. She watched him pace away from her, and her thoughts soon cleared of that strange fuzziness.
“I should escort you home before I change my mind,” he said in a dark tone.
She stood, slipping her heels back on. “Change your mind?” Her body felt a little shaky, as though she’d just had a wild burst of adrenaline and was coming down from the high.
“Yes.” He turned back to her, eyes lingering on her face, then sweeping over her body in that peculiar way that felt like a caress. His hands clenched into fists, as though he was suppressing the urge to reach for her. “I’m tempted to carry you over my shoulder into my bedroom. I’d spend the next several hours having my way with you, fucking you into blissful oblivion.”
She tensed at his harsh words and the rough fantasies they conjured up in her mind. Rurik was a man who took what he wanted, a dragon in full control. She suppressed the thrill that came with that thought. She’d always dreamt of being with a man like that, who knew exactly what to do next in bed. A man like that was hard to find. It was probably the reason she was still a virgin. She just couldn’t picture herself with a man who wasn’t like Rurik. She’d probably spend the rest of her life a virgin if she compared every man to someone like him.
“Fuck, you smell sweet.” He raked his hands through his chocolate-brown hair, and his eyes seem to turn from green to gold again. “I have no control, not with you smelling like heaven.” He braced his hands on the kitchen counter, staring straight ahead, not at her.
“Rurik…I think I should go.” She reached for her purse, but he stepped closer and caught her wrist. She looked up at him, and he tugged her to him, pinning her against the counter, hip to hip, as he captured her mouth with his. It was another drugging kiss that set her head spinning. It reminded her of when as a child she’d sat on the swing at the park, twisting her seat around so the chains twisted tighter and tighter. When she let go she was rocketed around in a wild, unstoppable spin that ripped a cry of joy from her before she did it all over again.
“Tell me to stop. Beg me.” He cupped her face in his hands and murmured this between slow, deep kisses.
“I…” The words didn’t come. He gripped her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, locking her legs around his slender hips.
“Fuck.” The roughness of his palms explored her bare skin. It felt so good, tracing the shapes of her calves up to her outer thighs.
He pushed her flat on the counter by pressing his palm gently on her chest. Then he trailed a fingertip down her throat to her breasts, which were heaving against the neckline. Charlotte threw her head back, panting as her body flushed with wild heat. Every part of her felt electrified by his touch.
“I’m going to rip this dress to shreds.”
The words jerked her out of the haze of her body’s rising desire.
“No, wait! I really like this dress. Give me a sec, and I’ll get out of it.” She reached behind herself to try to unzip her dress, but he growled impatiently and pulled her down from the counter. She braced herself as he spun her around and bent her over the granite top as he tugged the zipper down to her lower back. She wore a black strapless bra with matching panties, which he bared as he slid the red garment down around her hips. She stepped out of the dress, and he ground his denim-clad hips against her, letting her feel the hard press of his massive erection. She pushed back. God, being with him was like being in heat—
She tensed, turning around so they faced each other, and then placed her palms on his chest and pushed at him. He let her have a bit of space, but he was breathing hard, his eyes a swirling golden green.
“Wait…” She panted and stumbled away from him. She had no doubt at this point that the pheromones she’d been warned about were at work. She was not going to let her first time with a man be under some kind of influence. It needed to be of her own free will.
Rurik was breathing hard, just like she was. Part of her wondered if her special perfume was having a similar effect on him. His hair fell into his eyes, and he watched her in that predatory way that made her shiver. But he didn’t try to force her.
“Put your dress back on. I will take you back to your hotel.”
He stalked over to grab his jacket from the counter and slung it on. Charlotte bit her lip as she shimmied back into her dress and snatched her purse off the counter.
Charlotte, what have you gotten yourself into? It was supposed to be recon only tonight. Not a half-naked make-out session with your target!
She followed him to the door on shaky legs. Neither of them spoke as they stepped into the elevator. Damn, this night had been a disaster on so many levels. She had gotten too close to him, and he’d manifested some sort of power over her. She hadn’t been ready for how things had spun out of control. But he had stopped when she’d asked him to. That was unexpected.
She ducked
her head, avoiding looking directly at him. She might have blown any chance of meeting with him again, which would make the rest of her job more difficult. Though she was certain she’d matched the formula they’d found, it still needed to be tested in the field. But if it worked as they’d hoped, they’d have a powerful tool to use in case the dragons ever got it in their heads to take over.
It wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded. Every couple of decades some group of supernatural creatures tried to take over, and the Brotherhood was always there to stop them. Just a few months ago a dragon had been on the road to becoming the next prime minister of England. That man had used this very serum to try to remove some of his rivals.
If she brought Rurik back to the Brotherhood as a prisoner, who knew what further tests they might run to prove the serum worked, with or without his permission? And what if they tried to weaponize the formula? Or find a way to make it permanent? Some members of the Brotherhood were known to be overzealous in their charter, including the woman who’d almost become her sister-in-law. She cringed at the memory of what had happened to Serena, the hunter who’d been engaged to her brother Damien. She’d had a personal vendetta against the vampire “corruptions” of the world for as long as she’d known her. One day she’d crossed the line, taking out a vampire coven without cause. The Brotherhood had known they were a benign group, using blood from a blood bank, but she didn’t care. For Serena, the only good vamp was a dead vamp. Given Damien’s plans to reform the Brotherhood, it had been a source of constant debate between them.
In the end, Serena’s overzealousness had been her undoing. A French vampire assassin had murdered her in cold blood, leaving her for Damien to find as a message to the Brotherhood. Her brother had never been the same since, had never taken another lover. It had broken his heart and made him less certain of his plans to change the Brotherhood’s ways.