“It is a place of formidable beauty. But not as beautiful as the countryside around Eger where the original castle of the Sarkany stands yet in ruins.” Hugo's deep voice was melancholy.
“Why is it ruined?”
“When the soviets invaded Hungary in 1941 they cared nothing for the past. They used the castle of my ancestors for target practice. They blasted the thousand year old stones with mortar fire. This was to show the Hungarian people that they were less than dirt.” He sighed.
“Do you still own the land?” Leah asked curiously.
“No. Nowadays, they take tourists there and let them exclaim over the wonders of ancient medieval splendor. No one mentions that eighty years ago it was an inhabited castle famous for its beauty.”
“What did your family do when the soviets invaded?”
“Holed up at the Schloss Sarkany in Switzerland. My great-grandfather had seen the writing on the wall in 1939. He took his whole family to live in the Schloss.”
“I suppose your family had a lot of houses to choose from?”
“Many. We are an acquisitive race. Sarkany means dragon in Hungarian.” He fixed his golden eyes warningly on her. “In a thousand years, there is scarcely any treasure we have willingly relinquished.”
“But you gave up your castle in Hungary?”
He shrugged. “We bowed to superior forces. I admit that I could not imagine my great-grandfather in some Communist re-education camp. But according to him, in any case, in 1939, the family was spending more time in Paris than in Eger.”
“But Paris was no safer,” Leah pointed out. “The Germans invaded in 1940.”
“Yes. But Switzerland was neutral and we had a comfortable home in the Schloss Sarkany, it was no hardship to emigrate. When we have provided for your grandmother we will go to the Schloss and plan our betrothal ball.”
“A ball! Couldn't we just give a nice tea?” Leah asked, forgetting she wasn't going to marry Hugo.
“No. When I present my bride, there will be dancing and champagne.” Hugo savored this first acceptance of her fate, but forbore to point it out to her. “I will dance with you until the stars are gone.” He frowned. “Can you waltz?”
Leah shook her head. “You're thinking of quite a different sort of southern girl,” she said. “I didn't have dancing lessons growing up.”
“It is of no importance. I will teach you, Beloved. Did you know that staid old dance the waltz” —Hugo pronounced the w as a v— “was a scandal in its day?”
“I didn't.”
“It was considered deplorably racy for gentlemen to embrace their partners and spin them in circles. Even though in 1812 both parties would have been wearing gloves and formal clothes.” His gold eyes twinkled at her. “Another objection was that unlike the statelier minuet, which required years of practice to master, the waltz could be learned in an afternoon.”
Leah chuckled. “No wonder they thought it vulgar!”
“Tonight we will see how long it takes you to learn the steps.”
But all through the delight of teaching his beloved to dance, Hugo still felt that same deep unease that had plagued him all week.
* * *
The call from his heralds came in at midnight. Roland and Ivan jostled each other like giddy teens as they told him about their visit to Vadim's compound outside of Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro.
“It was like going into a den of thieves,” said Ivan. “But we made sure Vadim realized that our visit was no secret.”
“He received us in his private rooms,” said Roland. “I'm afraid we were rather crowded. I don't think he expected to see so many dragons.”
“Hah,” said Ivan. “He thought it would be just the two of us. Those young Lindorms astonished him. They looked down their long noses at him. I swear they are all the dead spit of their grandfather. And I never met a fiercer dragon.”
“Do you think the High Marshal was intimidated?” asked Hugo dubiously.
“I think he was frightened,” said Roland.
“Are we discussing Vadim?” asked Hugo even more dubiously.
“Yup,” said Ivan. “We've put the fear of God into that crook.”
“I doubt it,” Hugo returned drily. “Why should Lindorm's support be so terrifying to him?”
“You're right,” said Roland. “We were just so pleased to get in and out without coming to blows, that perhaps we are assuming that he was more intimidated than he was.”
“Or perhaps it is Lord Voros that he fears,” said Hugo. “Are you off to Germany now?”
“We will visit Lord Verm next and then we will go to Mongolia to tell the Khan,” Roland said cheerfully. “I’m keeping the Lindorm boys with us. We look like a small army when we stand together.”
“Keep me posted. I confess, I am still uneasy, as if mortal peril still threatened our House.” Hugo signed off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Leah woke up alone. Hugo had left his calling card on the pillow next to hers. A lovely cameo brooch winked up at her. She held it in her hand and as her palm warmed it she intuitively knew that the carving was Roman. As in ancient Rome. Sometime in the nineteenth century, a jeweler had made an ornate filigree frame of gold and turned what had been an amulet into a pin.
Leah marveled, not just at her ability to recognize the value of this object and its history, but her own calmness at the development of this uncanny skill. Maybe she was growing used to the idea of being a dragon shifter. Because she was sure that two days ago she would have been shocked witless by this eerie power.
The cameo was a lovely thing. The delicate cream color of the goddess Minerva's profile contrasted beautifully with the deep blush of the background. The longer Leah held it the more she knew about the man who had made it two thousand years ago and all the people who had worn it.
It had originally been made to protect a young boy. He had given it in turn to his own son. She saw the elegant young woman who had received it as a wedding gift from her father and had worn it until she grew old. It was infused with the sentiments of all these long dead people. Somehow she knew that its last owner had been Hugo's mother.
She could even feel Hugo's pleasure at choosing it for her, and his delight at leaving it for her. He was a generous man. But had he truly given her the only treasure she actually wanted? Had he given her his love for a lifetime? It didn't seem possible that such a womanizer could have transformed overnight into a faithful lover. Yet hadn't she herself changed just that fast into a dragon shifter with astounding powers?
The sun was barely up. The sky outside her shutters was a soft blue. She should go swimming now while it was still cool. Yesterday's outing to the reef had been wonderful, but her skin was pinker than usual and she should stay out of the sun today if she didn't want it to burn.
Five minutes later she was picking her way down the path to the beach where Hugo had taught her to fly. She realized she was still wearing her ring. Bad idea. Rubies were soft and she might damage it if she knocked it against rocks. Unfortunately, once again the ring would not come off. Well she would just have to be careful.
She left her towel hanging on the branch of a tree and waded into the gentle waves. The water was balmy and calm. She could tell where the reef was by the surge of the surf as it broke on it before passing on to lap against the white sand. This truly was a beautiful place—a slice of paradise.
It didn't take long before she was stretching her muscles in a vigorous and demanding crawl. Long practice in Olympic sized pools had taught her exactly how many strokes she needed to do her fifty meters. When she had gone so far she flipped and headed back the other way, keeping parallel to the shore so she was in no danger of getting swept into the riptide.
She didn't notice the man lurking in the low bushes that grew around the trees that ringed the shoreline. Prince Maximilian of Landor watched his rival's woman swim up and down as if she were in some competition. She was a big girl—not like Sarkany's usual women. But no matter.
Count Sarkany had decided to marry her. If she was truly his mate, he would be prepared to trade her for the Dragon's Blood. And it would be a most delightful extra to enjoy the charms of Hugo's destined bride. Perhaps Sarkany would never realize that his heir was a scion of the House of Landor.
* * *
It was no use. He couldn't concentrate. Hugo gave up his attempt to work. He would go and wake Leah and satisfy his need to see her. Share her delight in the bauble he had left in his place. This undisciplined ardor would doubtless lessen eventually. Although at present it just seemed to grow greater every hour.
But Leah wasn't in bed. She wasn't in the bathroom. Her new brooch was resting beside her cell phone. He picked it up. She had loved it. So why was his heart contracting as if some monster was squeezing his chest with superhuman strength? Where the hell was Leah?
Her French doors were closed but unlocked. But perhaps they never had been. Here on the island it might seem unnecessary. He texted Holden. Find Leah. Maybe she had gone to breakfast? He headed for the patio where they had eaten for the last several mornings. The table was laid for two and his houseman Winston came out to ask if he wanted his coffee.
“No, sir, I ain't seen Miss St. George today. She never come for her breakfas'“
Holden texted back. Where did you last see her?
Her room.
Checking video footage.
He should have thought of that. Of course every exit was covered by CCTV.
She went swimming.
Hugo hustled back to Leah's suite and met Holden coming around the side of the house.
“I don't think we should panic, boss,” he said. “She only went down to the beach about twenty minutes ago.”
Hugo nodded and the two men trotted briskly down the path to the sea. Hugo didn't speak but every step made him more anxious. His mate was in danger, having trouble breathing. He feared she might be drowning. Even strong, athletic swimmers could come to grief in shallow water.
The beach was empty. Holden sniffed at the air. Hugo inhaled deeply too. She was here. And so was someone else. Hugo sniffed harder. Landor. The sneaky little weasel had stood concealed in the sea grapes and watched Leah.
“You can see where she came up out of the water,” Holden said looking at footprints in the wet sand. “She had a towel or a wrap on these branches.” He pointed out a few broken leaves.
“She's been snatched, Holden.”
“Undoubtedly. I'm going to track these footprints. You take to the sky.”
Hugo didn't waste time stripping. He took dragon and left his clothes lying in rags on the shore. Holden scooped up his boss's phone and stuck it in his pants pocket. He pulled his little snub nose pistol from his ankle holster and followed his nose.
Landor had left spoor that any bear could follow. Leah had been frightened and had left the acrid stink of fear behind. There was one set of footprints coming through the trees, and one going. The second set were much deeper than the first. So the dragon was carrying Leah. At first, she had struggled, for the trail was initially marked by freshly broken branches and stripped leaves.
Holden's heart sank when all signs that Leah had grabbed and twisted greenery vanished. If she wasn't putting up a fight, it would only be because she couldn't. He sniffed. He could not smell the taint of death, but passiveness was not a good omen.
* * *
On the beach, Hugo spread his wings and let the breeze waft him high. His shift had made his vision more acute and sharpened his ears and sense of smell. Landor's fetid odor hung in the air. He could see Holden below him, even though the bodyguard was moving through dense bush tracking the abductor.
Every nerve strained to locate Leah. He could smell her terror. But he had no connection with her. Surely he would know if she were dead? At least Leah's ring still called to him. She wasn't far and she was still wearing it. But how had Landor gotten to the island? Had he dared approach in dragon? No matter, he had sealed his fate when he stole Sarkany's woman.
He needed to be higher so he could survey his dominion. The increasing heat of the day permitted him to mount higher and higher on the updraft. To his amazement he could see the spreading wings of another dragon flying slowly out to sea. This dragon was flapping his wings hard and moving slowly because he carried a burden clasped in his front legs.
* * *
Holden tracked Landor until he came to a bay where he could see the telltale sign of a dragon's shift. Landor had left the marks of great talons in the sand. And something far worse. Leah's limp body had lain here on the beach unmoving while he tied her hands and feet.
Holden could tell that she had been dragged off into the air. Landor had struggled to lift off with his burden and the evidence was written on the damp sand. Holden looked out to sea and he thought he saw the vast wings of a dragon against the blazing sun.
If it was Sarkany in hot pursuit, he had better get him some back up. If it was Landor, he needed to be followed. Either way, the chopper was his best option. There was no land in the direction that the dragon was flying. That meant a ship. The chopper was armed ,which would even their odds if Landor had accomplices.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When the strong arms grabbed her from behind, Leah struggled futilely against the superior strength of the man who had trapped her. But the strong grip around her ribs did not lessen. She felt a needle jab her in the upper arm before she was wrapped in her own towel and hoisted over a shoulder.
She fought her arms free even though they felt as if they were made of lead and her eyes just wanted to close. She grasped at the frail branches of the brush she was being carried through. Leaves came off in her hands and a big hand slapped her rump hard.
“Lie still,” grunted her captor.
She clouted him in the ear with her elbow but whatever he had shot her full of made her blow weak and useless. She heard a coarse laugh as she went limp.
Leah woke on a bobbing vessel, tied hand and foot. She looked around her. Light filtered through an unseen porthole. So it was still day—or the next day. She faced the upper bunk of the berth she was lying on. She was still wearing her swimsuit. And her legs felt cold. And her mouth was full of bile. And she was very thirsty.
Gradually she became aware of more things. Her suit had dried on her body. So at least enough time had passed for that. She had a throbbing headache and the noise of the engines seemed to be inside her aching head. The dim light of the cabin hurt her eyes.
Her arms were tied behind her back and her wrists and shoulders hurt from her lying on them. She rolled over onto her side to take the pressure off her joints. She found herself looking at a set of glossy fitted cabinets and the door of the cabin.
She lay on the bunk taking stock. As blood began to move in her shoulders and hands, they burned. She tried to loosen her bonds but they were too tight to have any give and she just bruised her wrists and ankles.
She wiggled her ring finger and thought her ring was still there. But if it was ignited by Hugo's presence she couldn't tell.
Still it gave her hope. All she had to do was hang on until Hugo came. Because there was no doubt in her mind that he would come. Hugo was always worried about her safety. Apparently with reason. She had plainly been kidnapped. But he would find her.
Over the background noise of the engine, her straining ears heard angry voices talking above her. She concentrated fiercely trying to learn who had taken her and why she had been abducted. But not even her newly acute hearing could separate the words into sense. Of course! They weren't speaking English!
A noise outside the cabin made her stop moving to listen. Hastily she rolled back onto her bound hands and ignoring the pain in her shoulders made her body limp as if she remained in her drugged sleep. A latch clattered and a rough hand shook her by one arm and she let her head flop.
“Wake up,” said the voice of her abductor. She let her lashes flutter and close again. The hand was removed from her arm and fingers pinched h
er nipple through her suit and twisted hard. She moaned a little but didn't open her eyes.
The man grunted and his footsteps moved away. The door was relocked and the footstep went away altogether. Leah ignored the pain in her breast, and rolled back onto her side and went through the agonizing process of letting her arms regain feeling. The cabin didn't seem to have anything that would help her to escape. The cabinets were closed and possibly locked.
If only her brain didn't feel as if it were made of sawdust. She was thirsty. She hurt. But she had to try to save herself. Because she had no way of knowing how long it would take Hugo to find her. Or how he would track her. But she had no doubt that he would come.
* * *
The dragon that had carried Leah off had a head start but a lamentable lack of cunning. He flew steadily towards his objective, never looking back or attempting to conceal his path. Hugo flew after them rapidly catching up.
Out across the ocean Hugo flew as he had never flown before. His vision was obscured by a red mist and he fought for control. His mate was in peril and he had to track her through the moist air. The dragon that had seized her had left his scent hanging heavy. Leah's terror had added a layer to the great beast's scent trail.
Landor's foul stench filled his nostrils. The scent trail clung to the humid air and the prevailing winds blew it towards Hugo. He could no longer smell his beloved's fear. Was she unconscious or dead? Surely he would know if she was dead?
Either way Landor had sealed his fate.
He could do this. He could find her. What Landor hoped to prove by taking Hugo's mate, he neither knew nor cared. But he was a dead reptile flying that was certain. When he caught up with Landor, he would show no mercy. He didn't dare to think of what he would do if Leah were dead.
But where was the other dragon headed to? The mainland was too far away for him to reach, burdened as he was with his captive. That meant he had a vessel handy and possibly a swarm of dragons. Landor might be cocksure, but Hugo could not afford to be. At all costs Leah must be rescued. Or avenged. But he could do neither if he was himself killed in mortal combat with several dragons. Discretion was the better part of valor.
Dragon's Treasure (BBW/Dragon Shifter Romance) (Lords of the Dragon Islands Book 1) Page 16