My friend inclined his head. “Yes. The Rain Dragon may be enclosed, but he is not always in this box. I free him often, let him sit on the rock shelf. And when he’s buried, I imagine he takes strength from the dirt and the wood that surrounds him.” Then, ominously, he said, “We will encounter a severe storm on our way back to the village. The Rain Dragon brings forth weather.”
I sniffed the air. All I smelled was stone, dirt, and the distinct scent of alderwood and myrrh that always hung around my friend. I certainly hadn’t smelled rain. On our trek to the cave, the day had been sunny and bright, with nary a cloud in the sky.
My friend closed the lid on the box, set it back into its shallow grave, covered it with cloth, and brushed dirt across the top. He carefully replaced the stone. “Remember this place. This box. Please do not forget to retrieve it when you go.”
It was unerring the way my friend knew that I would someday leave the village, probably on a whim, without much planning—the same way I blew in. My friend understood my soul, and I think I understood his.
As such, I promised to take the dragon with me. As we departed the cave and stepped into a sunny day, with only a few distant white clouds riding high in the air, I asked, “How did you come by the Rain Dragon?”
My friend reacquired his walking stick, tilted his face to the sky, then began the slow journey away from the rocks. “There are others, like me, who know that the dragons should be free.”
That was all the explanation I received. Once again I failed to pinpoint his plural use, thinking he meant all dragons rather than the one (or more) in the box. He avoided my subtler attempts to wring the entire story out of him, which only made me more curious but also aware that some stories are not meant to be told. In later years I wished I would have pushed him harder. Just a little nudge to glean more information. Alas. I am a man who generally respects other people’s privacy and never did pursue the truth as maybe I should have.
Eventually stepping onto the plateau where we sometimes meditated, lost in thought, I was about to inquire whether we should sit and contemplate things when a gray pall crept across the landscape.
A snarl ripped through the heavens, followed by a distant boom. I cannot say to this day when or where those storm clouds came from, but they were vicious and dark and growing thicker by the moment. Startled by the sudden change, I glanced up as the first raindrops fell. Then came the deluge. This was no patter of droplets on the ground, but bullets that pinged off nearby rocks and soaked us to the skin in seconds.
When I glanced at my friend, he smiled knowingly, with a gleam in his eyes that said, “See?”
It was coincidence, of course. I could not accept that the Rain Dragon had summoned a storm for me to see and feel. But I acknowledged that my friend thought so, which was why, six weeks later, I returned to the cave and retrieved the box from the ground. Restlessness had set in, undeniable and unavoidable. Just as my friend knew it would. He recognized the signs long before I did.
I had no trouble leaving China with the dragon in tow; I stashed the box among my meager belongings and left for Brazil.
I never saw my friend again. I paid tribute to his memory by hiding the box in my modest abode in Rio, where it sat, untouched, for years. There are secrets attached to that box that I will leave for later. They do not belong in this letter, which has become long and rambling (like my life). This brings me to the main point of this correspondence.
Upon my death I left you a dragon. The Treasure Dragon. As I arranged to have this letter delivered after my passing, you should have already received the dragon, along with a meager inheritance of $1,300. I left the Treasure Dragon in your care for several reasons, Madalina. You’re young and vibrant, with many years ahead of you. I remember you saving the little trinkets I brought you from other parts of the world and thought to add to that motley collection with this. I remember that your favorite part was the stories attached to the objects, hence the rambling explanation of the Rain Dragon.
But, Grandfather, you’re thinking, I don’t have both dragons, only one, and not the one you just spent an hour explaining.
Indeed. You’ll soon see why.
The other reason I chose you is because I want you to know the richness of travel and exploration of cultures and countries other than your own. As you know, your mother and father never took you farther than the borders of the United States, mostly due to your aversion to air travel as a child. Planes frightened you, and thus, your parents chose to drive you on sightseeing excursions instead. Your mother has seen the world—I made sure of it while she was growing up—but you, my dear, you have not experienced nearly half of what you should.
Accompanying this letter is another note, and a key. It is my hope that you give in to curiosity and follow where I lead you. Interesting things await at the destination I’ve set forth, which is but the first of several stops along a journey that I have painstakingly set up on your behalf. In life I was not there for you as much as I should have been, given my predisposition to wanderlust; in death I hope to expose you to some of the things I love. Perhaps you’ll grow to love them, too.
If parts of this letter seem cryptic, it’s because I planned it that way.
Remember that above all, dear, I adore you more than I can say. Do not mourn my passing. I am undoubtedly still exploring, which is all a man can ask for.
With much love,
Walcot
Several mysteries that had plagued Madalina over the last three months suddenly became clear. She now knew where the Treasure Dragon—the artifact her grandfather had left her in his will, the collectible that had caused so much heartache and pain, and the object that had ultimately brought her and Cole together—originated from. At least in part. To see the details unravel in her grandfather’s distinctive storytelling style was both shocking, heartwarming, and slightly alarming. Right there before her eyes, on the page in Walcot’s handwriting, was also proof that he’d been in possession of more than one dragon. That had been the biggest unanswered question of all. How many of the four remaining dragons, she couldn’t say. Two, at the very least.
“I’ll be damned,” Cole rumbled near her ear, proving he was having much the same reaction as she.
“So he did have more than one. His reference here about the one ‘or more’ makes me wonder—just how many dragons did he come away with?” she whispered. “You said there were four dragons missing from the collection of nineteen, and we can now account for two that my grandfather had—at some point—in his possession. What if there were more?”
“He left it all just vague enough that we won’t be sure until we find out what else is in that envelope.” Cole tipped the envelope up, allowing a thin scrap of paper and a key to fall into his palm. On the faded yellow scrap was an address. In Brazil.
Madalina sucked in a surprised breath, glancing from the key to Cole’s eyes. She read intrigue and curiosity in his expression. “Do you think the Rain Dragon is there?” she asked. “He said in the letter here that he’d hidden the box in Brazil, untouched for years.”
Cole met her gaze, his own increasingly enigmatic and unreadable. “It sure seems that way to me. Nothing in that letter suggests that he thought there was danger attached to the dragons, so his intentions are simply to expose you to some of the things he loves. Unless he just didn’t want to discuss his suspicions of a tail or trouble where anyone might intercept the letter and read it.”
Scanning the pages Madalina wished she could decipher more about her grandfather’s state of being from his words. It all seemed innocent—and very much like something Walcot Nagel would do. Leading her on a quest of mystery, all to help broaden her worldview. She looked from the pages to the key in Cole’s hand, and finally to his eyes. “What should we do? While I think it’s great that he thought ahead like this, to lead me on an overseas jaunt, I’m also a little concerned that someone will find out, an
d we’ll be in the same predicament we were in with the last dragon.”
Cole shifted his stance until he’d blocked her in against the countertop. His big body pressed close, obliterating her view of anything except him. “It’s very possible that the agents we dealt with before are still keeping tabs on us. Just because I threatened them and struck a ‘deal’ doesn’t mean they’ll honor everything we agreed on. However, it’s also possible that they’re chasing leads to the dragons in other parts of the world and have no idea that your grandfather has contacted you posthumously. That gives us a little breathing room. Not much, but some. The problem is that we don’t know how closely we’re being watched, and we probably won’t until we act. If we’re discreet, I think we could slip away to Brazil, check out the address on this paper, and see where it leads us. Maybe we’ll find nothing. And maybe we’ll find another dragon. We could do that. I’m just not sure that we should.”
Reaching back Madalina set the papers on the counter. This freed her hands to run over the muscles of his chest. He was dressed in black, the snug shirt hugging his honed physique. She couldn’t resist touching him, not after his three-day absence. A tingle of fear about the dragon persisted, though, tainting her joy in the moment.
“And what if we do? Find another dragon, I mean?” she asked in a quiet voice. His breath brushed her cheek when he bent his head to maintain better eye contact. She added, “I know you have a standing offer with a collector, two million per dragon. Will you collect the money?”
“It’s your dragon, Madalina. The better question is what would you want to do with it?” He set the key and the scrap of paper down, then braced his hands against the counter on either side of her hips, effectively pinning her. “If we find the thing. If we decide to go at all.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. A part of me wants to follow his lead, and the other, more wary part of me wants nothing to do with it.”
“I can understand that. We went through a lot with the Treasure Dragon. You had several close calls. I would say that we have time, that there’s no rush, except I’m not sure how long that address and key will be viable now that he’s gone,” Cole said.
“You mean that whatever rent he paid in advance might expire, leaving the house or room or whatever it is open to the landlord. Who will probably clear out any belongings and re-rent the place.” Madalina hadn’t thought about that until Cole brought it up. There might be a limited amount of time to investigate.
“It’s possible. But if you want nothing to do with it, then we’ll ignore the key and the address. If he knew what you’d already been through, the danger and the fear, then I doubt he would want you to put yourself into a predicament that might draw the wrong kind of attention.” A moment later he added, “When I’m less distracted by you, by missing you, I might think differently about chasing rainbows.”
While she shamelessly reacquainted herself with his body, running her palms over his shoulders and chest, Madalina considered her options. She could ignore the key and address, like Cole suggested, and forever wonder whether her grandfather had stashed another dragon in Brazil. Or they could make a trip and do some exploring, possibly bringing their actions to the notice of the Chinese agents who had given her such grief over the last dragon. She wasn’t fool enough to believe that the agents had completely taken her off their radar. Yet there had been no sign at all of the agents in town, no sensation of being followed or watched. The relationship between Cole and her had flourished in the aftermath of the last dragon situation, and thus far, they’d been left alone. Per Cole’s agreement with the agents.
“What’s on your mind?” Cole asked.
“Just wondering how close the agents might still be watching us. I can’t believe they would totally dismiss us, but things have been so calm and quiet these last weeks that I’m almost lulled into a sense of complacency. I can almost believe they have given up on us leading them to another dragon and that a trip to Brazil won’t trigger their curiosity.”
“Almost, but not quite.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Cole had a way of knowing exactly what she was thinking sometimes. She could see the way he studied her eyes, as if mentally leapfrogging through scenarios and configuring what her response and replies might be.
“I think the only reason you’re holding back at all is fear,” he deduced after a moment. “Otherwise, I believe you’d have us on the next plane, key and address in hand, ready to embark on a little investigative journey.”
“You’re very astute sometimes,” she said, pressing her body even closer to his. “And you always seem to know what I’m thinking. It’s uncanny.”
“I’m just good at reading your cues. Reading the conflict in your eyes is second nature these days. And I’d have to be blind and dumb not to recognize the flicker of fear that goes along with it.”
“What would you do if you were me?” she asked.
“I think you know what I’d do,” Cole countered.
“You’d go. Without hesitation or question.”
“Yes. But that’s me. That’s the life I’ve lived for a while now. There’s a difference between me going alone and us going together. You’ve got a business here that you love, a co-owner and best friend who counts on you, and leaving it all might jeopardize your success. Which affects your decisions, tempers any immediate instinct to take off into the blue. Not to mention the fresh danger you may be putting yourself in.”
Madalina used her lashes to hide her eyes from Cole. What he said was true—or had been. Of late she’d been mildly impatient with the more mundane aspects of her job, finding herself distracted with thoughts of what Cole was doing or what he was working on. Several times she’d caught herself daydreaming about what missions he was engaged in and what unusual mysteries he might be unraveling.
“If I didn’t know better,” Cole said, intrigue entering his voice, “I’d say your reaction hints at some kind of dissatisfaction with work. Or at least conflicted emotions. But you love your job. You’ve sacrificed a lot to get where you are.” He paused, then after a telling moment, added, “Right?”
She finally met his eyes. “I do love the boutique. I’m just not sure I love it in the same way as before. I don’t know. It’s difficult to explain. Although you and I were on the run, I can’t help but miss some of the intrigue. Not the dangerous parts of our interaction with the Chinese agents, but figuring out the puzzles and the urgency of discovery. Like when you left here three days ago. All I could think about was what you were doing. I wanted to be where you were, searching for whatever you might have been searching for. Putting the puzzle pieces together with you. A small part of me misses the adrenaline rush.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you think I do what I do? It’s not just for the money. It keeps my mind sharp. I feed off the adrenaline and the challenges that come with every ‘job.’ You’ve been focused on opening your clothing boutique for years, and when it finally happened, you immersed yourself in that world. That’s what you know, what you’ve been comfortable with. That other world, my world, didn’t exist. Until you had a taste for yourself. It’s not uncommon for people to enjoy the thrill. Some people even enjoy the danger. I think there may be more Walcot Nagel in you than you realize.”
“I wouldn’t have thought so before all this, but you’re probably right,” Madalina agreed. And Cole had a point, too. To chase puzzles and put himself in danger was his job. It wasn’t hers. That he would go to Brazil in a heartbeat wasn’t surprising. She detected caution in Cole when he spoke about investigating, despite his clear intrigue, which prompted her to say, “What would be the first step, if we were to seriously consider going to Brazil?”
“The first step is for me to contact my brothers and see what, if anything, they can find on the Chinese agents. See if Thaddeus or Brandon can dig up their whereabouts or information that would trigger an alarm about us leaving the coun
try. Obviously, there hasn’t been another attempt on our lives or any more harassment, which suggests that the agents are honoring their agreement to back off. I’d like more information, though. I’d want to try and track the agents if we can; if they’re not here—then where are they? If, after all that, we come up empty, with no prominent threats or suspicious activity, then we have a more serious talk about traveling to Brazil. I wouldn’t want you to go if you’re feeling scared and anxious.”
“I’ll probably be paranoid, no matter what. But let’s see what your brothers can find out. How long do you think it’ll take to get some answers?” she asked.
“Not long. Twenty-four hours. I’ll give Thaddeus a call before we leave for our date.” He winked.
Appreciative of Cole’s cautious plans, Madalina kissed the corner of his mouth. “Excellent. Now then. Let me pluck my other eyebrow, put some makeup on, and get dressed.”
“You look distinctive with your one bushy brow and brightly scrubbed cheeks,” he said, a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“It’s not bushy!” She laughed and ran a finger across the unplucked brow.
“It is. A ladybug could get lost in there,” he said.
“Thanks. Now I feel self-conscious.” Amused, she stared up into his face, enjoying the banter.
“You’d feel self-conscious, too, if I told you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. So it’s a toss-up either way.” He dragged the pad of his thumb over her brow, but didn’t look away from her eyes.
Cole knew just how to knock her off her proverbial feet. Statements like that, made so confidently and bluntly, never failed to bring a rush of heat to her face and make her heart pound harder. “You just like seeing me get flustered.”
“That, too.”
“I know ways to make you get flustered, too,” she said with a sassy lilt. Madalina wasn’t quite as good at flustering Cole as she wished. All he did was cock a brow in challenge and press his body closer to her own.
Rendezvous in Rio Page 2