Dragon Shattered_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance

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Dragon Shattered_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance Page 13

by Keira Blackwood


  “We’re here to inquire about a particular device,” Quentin said, as he pulled a folded paper from inside his jacket.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Don’t bother denying that it’s yours,” Quentin said. “We’re interested in a man you may have sold one to.”

  “Not for Curtis?” the man asked.

  “No,” Quentin replied.

  “Okay,” the man said, and took a look at the picture. “It’s new tech. No one else has anything like it on the market yet. It’s mine.”

  “Is this the man you sold it to?” I asked, pointing to Chip.

  “Nope. Haven’t seen him before.”

  “So, who did you sell it to?” I asked. This could be it, our lead to figure out who had hired the thief to begin with.

  “Tall, blond guy. He was a smooth talker, had a trustworthy way about him, the kind who could lull a person into giving him whatever he wanted. He had a big scar on his face, half of it covered up by his beard.”

  “Isn’t that the description Pelletier gave to you and Slade of the man who inquired about the artifact?” Quentin asked.

  “It sure as hell is,” I replied. And it sure as hell sounded like a man I used to know.

  We had a description of the client, we knew where the thief would be next. Everything was coming together.

  “I got one more,” the clerk said. “One more Vibrator.”

  He couldn’t be serious.

  Quentin coughed, and his eyes went wide.

  “Vibrator?” I asked.

  “Yes,” the man said. “It’s named for the oscillation or vibration of atoms when the device is activated.”

  “I see.” I tried not to laugh.

  He looked at Quentin and then back to me, clearly not understanding.

  “They’re not cheap, but I’ll sell it to you if you have the cash,” the man said.

  I didn’t hesitate to reply. “We’ll take it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Taylor

  I stepped out of the shower, and reached for my towel. The cold tiles beneath my feet began to shake, and a high-pitched sound filled the room. What the hell?

  Out of nowhere, the wall rippled, and Slade barged through with his face split ear-to-ear in an enthusiastic grin.

  “What the hell, Slade?” I wrapped my towel around my waist.

  “Look what Quentin gave me.” He held up a disk that looked an awful lot like—

  “It’s called the Vibrator,” Quentin called from the other room.

  The smile slid from Slade’s face, replaced by a scowl.

  “I’m not calling it that,” he said.

  “This is my bathroom,” I said. “Let’s have this conversation after I put on some pants. Maybe in the living room, instead.”

  “Okay,” Slade said. Then he pushed the button in the middle of the disk and jumped back out of room the same way he’d come in—through the wall.

  That was going to take some getting used to.

  I dressed and finished packing. I zipped up my luggage and hefted it into the common room. Slade and Quentin were sprawled on the couches with our favorite video game on the screen in front of them—Defenders of Aerasummit, fantasy role playing at its finest. I’d never touched a Gamebox before I’d moved into the Arrow. I’d been missing out.

  “So you found the same device the thief used?” I asked.

  “The Vibrator,” Quentin said.

  “I told you, I don’t like that,” Slade said. “Let’s call it something nicer. Like the Phaser.”

  “I kind of like Vibrator,” I said.

  Slade grumbled.

  “When did you get it?” I asked Quentin.

  “Yesterday.”

  “I wish you’d told me,” I said. It only made sense, given we were partners.

  “Sorry. You’re right,” he said. “We should make an effort to keep each other informed of new developments. I was just a little, ah, distracted.”

  “Ariana,” I said, feeling a knowing grin growing on my face.

  “Quentin.” Slade nudged him. “That troll fairy’s about to kill you. Hit him.”

  “Right,” Quentin said, his eyes back on the game in front of him. But he was talking to me, not Slade. “Ariana.”

  “Completely understandable,” I said.

  “I agree,” he said, “but I’ll also make more of an effort.”

  I followed the movement of the avatars for a second until one of the dwarves on screen fell down in a pool of blood.

  Slade groaned. “Mother-fudger.”

  “Tough break.” Quentin slapped him on the shoulder.

  “I thought you said you didn’t play this mindless poop,” Slade said.

  “Mindless shit,” Quentin clarified. “And I don’t. But I’ve recently discovered—namely, while kicking your dwarf ass—that it holds a certain appeal.”

  Slade sent me a beseeching look. “Help me out here, man.” When he saw my suitcase, his expression soured. “You know, you’re taking my day with her.”

  “Tough break,” I said, echoing Quentin. I smiled to soften it. “You can take one of my days later, though.” I looked at both of them. “Has she caught on? To the schedule, I mean?”

  “She asked me about it,” Quentin responded. “Didn’t seem too upset, either.”

  “How long can we keep doing this?” Slade asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Forever. Or until she wants to stop. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “Me neither,” Slade and Quentin said together.

  “Have a good trip,” Quentin added.

  “Will do. Did you guys do any recon on the place?”

  Slade stood up and reached for a folder on the coffee table. “We pulled up some photos. Here.”

  Princess Needleclaw hopped up onto the cushion Slade had been sitting on, curled up in a ball, and purred as she closed her eyes.

  Slade and Quentin chatted about a new client Whitesong was trying to woo, while I flipped through the photos, making note of the grand entrance, the decorative glass doors, the octagonal turrets with their pointed roofs. There was a second-story balcony that overlooked a chateau-style driveway, and flowers everywhere.

  Slade pointed. “Hey, look at that. A fountain.”

  “What’s with all the fucking fountains?” I muttered as I slid the photos back into the folder. I sent Quentin the stink-eye. “Is there some sort of rich person conspiracy?”

  He fought a smirk. “Like much of the earth’s population, aristocrats appreciate the beauty and tranquility of gently flowing water.”

  I growled before hefting my suitcase. “See you.”

  “We’ll just be here,” Quentin said, “minding the company while you two go out and party.”

  “I might have another client lined up for us,” Slade said. “We got a phone conference scheduled for later today.”

  We’d been slowly taking on more and more responsibilities with Whitesong. The three of us were going to help Ariana’s company grow to the point that a man like Pelletier wouldn’t be able to threaten us in the future.

  “Good luck,” I said. “Not that you need it. Ari and I will be in touch.”

  Before I left the room, the guys had resumed their game. But I turned to watch as Princess Needleclaw stretched out, and Quentin stopped playing for a second to give her a little scratch behind her ears.

  I was gonna miss these guys, but not as much as I was looking forward to having some alone time with Ariana.

  Ariana had her tablet out as Lindenbury navigated us through light traffic. The gala would begin at nine, which meant we’d need to go somewhere and change beforehand.

  “Where are we staying?” I asked.

  “Maisie reserved us rooms at the Marquess,” Ariana said.

  “Rooms, plural?” I asked.

  Her plum-colored lips warred with her flashing eyes. She was trying not to smile. “Yes, rooms, plural.”

  I sent my gaze to the ceiling of the Escalade. “Well
, there go my fantasies.” I had to rein in the flirting, though, because we had a job to do tonight. “So, this Maeve person, she’s going to be there. Do you expect her to cooperate?”

  She nodded. “She better.”

  “A place like the Curtis Corporation would ensure her cooperation.”

  “Whitesong doesn’t kidnap people for questioning.” Her voice was hard and crackly.

  I held up my hands. “I wasn’t suggesting it. At all.”

  She softened at that, her shoulders slumping a little. “Sorry, I know I’m uptight. Curtis pisses me off, and they’ll be there tonight. It takes extreme effort to not open my mouth and tell that low-life exactly what I think of him and his company.”

  I could hear the truth in her words—she was uptight for those reasons. But I could also tell there was more.

  “You’re worried about connecting with us all—with me, Quentin, and Slade,” I said.

  She pursed her lips, but nodded. The high-collared blouse she wore with her no-nonsense pencil skirt made her look completely professional and untouchable, and yet I could see the vulnerable woman she was.

  “How long ago did your mate die?” I asked.

  “How did you know?” she whispered.

  “Maisie might have said something. Don’t get mad at her, it just slipped out, it wasn’t like she was gossiping about you or anything.”

  “No,” she said, “I know Maisie wouldn’t do that. It was twenty-five years ago. I think...I think some people believe I should be over it by now. But I’m not. Or, sometimes I think I am, but then it’ll hit me, just as fresh as it did when it happened.”

  I reached across the seat to take her hand. “That probably makes it hard when three new guys are all vying for your attention.”

  “You seem to have a good schedule worked out, at least,” she said.

  “We’ll only do that if it works for you.”

  She smiled. “It’s working. I’m just...confused sometimes.”

  “Anytime you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks.” She settled back into her seat, but didn’t let go of my hand. Then she yawned. “We probably have another hour before we reach the hotel. Do you mind if I take a little cat nap?”

  “Not at all.” I lifted her hand, gave it a kiss, and settled back in my own seat. But as soon as her eyes closed, I stole glances at her. So beautiful. So kindhearted. This woman was perfect in every way, even when she postured with her frosty demeanor. She was going to completely undo me, ruin me for all other women.

  And I’d love every fucking second of it.

  At ten to nine, I knocked on Ariana’s hotel room door. The Marquess was just as brilliant and opulent as I’d heard, with deep crimson rugs and gilded molding along the ceilings. The wallpaper even had a shine to it.

  She opened her door just a second after I knocked. I nearly fell down right there. Dark shadow pulled attention to her big, brown eyes, and her pink lipstick was the same shade she’d worn when we first met. So much had changed since then, but I still wanted her just as badly as I had in the back of the Escalade, even more so since I’d gotten to know her.

  Her dark hair hung over her shoulders in loose waves, with one side clipped back behind her ear. Her neck and collarbone were exposed, while the style also framed her gorgeous face. My gaze roamed down, to the dip in her fitted black dress, to the rounded shape of her breasts. A thick silver bracelet shimmered on her wrist, a beautiful piece that was more extravagant than the understated jewelry she typically wore. Her waist pinched in before the rounded curve of her full hips. I also looked forward to the view from behind.

  I finally found my words. “You’re gorgeous.”

  Gorgeous wasn’t good enough, though.

  She gave me a shy smile. “Thanks. You clean up pretty good, too.”

  Trying to shake off my dazed feeling, I held out my arm. “Shall we?”

  She tucked her arm into mine and we headed to the elevator. As soon as we stepped inside, I was reminded of being in the elevator with her and Quentin yesterday. When he’d slid his hand over her hip, it had almost felt like I was doing it. And when the sweet scent of her desire filled the enclosed space, it was all I could do not to take her mouth with mine while Quentin and I both ripped off her clothes.

  I glanced over at Ariana now, wondering if her mind was in the same place that mine was. She stared straight ahead, biting her lip, like she was determined not to give in to the feelings and pheromones that I knew we could both sense.

  That was fine. I had all night, and if nothing else, I could be patient.

  The Longbottom Gala was held at the Longbottom Estate. The building was much like the Brightwater—overly huge and overly packed. Other than the fountain, the property was different. There were more flowers. Instead of views of the water, there were rolling hills and a plethora of weird sculptures. My favorite was a gargoyle riding a horse that was reared on its hind legs like a war memorial. I took a picture on my phone to show to the guys when we returned to the Arrow—it reminded me of one of the characters from Defenders of Aerasummit.

  Guests milled about in the sculpture garden, chatted along the driveway, and lined up to enter the mansion.

  “Shit,” I said, “there are like ten thousand people here.”

  Ariana shook her head. “According to their specs when they tried to hire Whitesong for this gala, only three hundred fifty.”

  It would be a challenge to find Maeve, and my new goal was to find her ASAP so that Ariana and I could enjoy the rest of the evening together. Just because this was a work party, didn’t mean we shouldn’t play.

  Straightening her shoulders, Ariana started marching up the marble steps outside the mansion.

  I quickly caught up to her and offered my arm again, which she took. “Okay, so we’re looking for brunette women, a little shorter than you, right?”

  “Yes. And she’s a wolf shifter, so use your nose, too.”

  We handed our invitation to a heavyset dude whose shoulders strained the seams of his tuxedo. He waved us forward and I caught a flash of metal inside his jacket; he was carrying. On an impulse, I turned around to face him. “Hey, I’m looking for my friend, Maeve. Brown hair, yay tall. Has she arrived yet?”

  Mr. Shoulders scowled and said, “I don’t know, I’ve been here for two hours. At least a hundred women came in fitting that description.”

  “Cool, thanks,” I said, trying not to sound too sour. Why did Curtis’s guys have to be such dicks?

  Ariana squeezed my arm with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  We wandered the mansion, weaving our way through the other partygoers. At another party, in another life, my head might have been spinning from the sight of all these beautiful women surrounding me. But now I had Ariana at my side, and while I could appreciate the beauty of others, it was only Ariana who made my heart speed up. It was only Ariana who made me think that love was possible.

  After years of trying to fall in love with the wrong women, I’d finally come home.

  A waiter floated by with a tray full of crackers spread with a fragrant cheese. Just as I reached out to grab one, Ariana gently nudged my arm.

  “There she is,” Ariana muttered under her breath. “Eleven o’clock.”

  I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck so I wouldn’t look so suspicious as I glanced around. Sure enough, a thin brunette stood at our eleven, wearing a metallic blue dress with a plunging neckline. And, when she turned, I could see the dress had a plunging back, too.

  “Let’s go,” I said, starting forward.

  Ariana held back.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Wait until she’s done flirting with Curtis, at least.”

  I looked again. “Oh, shit, I didn’t see that.”

  We stood, appearing to everyone like we were focused entirely on each other, but really, we had Curtis and Maeve in our sights.

  “He’s doing it on purpose,” Ariana growled. “He
knows I want to talk to her.”

  “How could he possibly know?” I asked.

  “He figures all this shit out somehow. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a spy at Whitesong.”

  “Fuck, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It happens all the time. I wonder on and off when it seems like Curtis knows too much. Hell, one time he tried to steal Maisie from me, offered to double her salary.” She leveled a glare at me. “Obviously it’s not something I really want to publicize.”

  “Well, obviously I’m not the public, but a partner.”

  Smirking, she said, “I guess you’re right.”

  “Curtis just got waylaid by a couple of bear shifters, by the smell of them,” I said, looking over Ariana’s shoulder. “Are you ready to interrogate Maeve?”

  Across the room, two women squealed as they greeted each other, arms outstretched.

  Ariana’s eyes sparkled. “I just got an idea.”

  “I’ll follow your lead.” If only she had any idea how true that was. I’d follow this woman to the far reaches of the universe.

  Ariana jangled her wrist with the bracelet, stretched her elegant neck one way and then the other, and said, “Ready?”

  I squeezed her hip. “Always.”

  “Maeve, ohmygod,” Ariana said, rushing toward her.

  I remained in place, waiting to see what she might need me for.

  Maeve blinked, looking startled and understandably confused. She recovered quickly, though. “Oh, hiiii, how are you?”

  “I’m good,” Ariana said. “I heard you were going to Crete—back so soon? Was it super fun?”

  I could barely keep a straight face. Ariana had to be two decades older than Maeve, but she sounded, and looked, like a twenty-year-old party girl.

  Maeve obviously didn’t want to admit she couldn’t remember Ariana. “It was so great,” she said. “The men there? Swoon.”

  “Oh yeah?” Ariana said. “Speaking of men, I just met this catch.” She pointed to me, then gestured me over.

  I snagged three glasses of champagne from a waiter and made my way over.

 

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