Her eyes clouded with worry. “That’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” She stared at the bracelet. “Do you think you should destroy this?” She started to take it off, but he stopped her.
He’d done a lot of thinking about the bracelet on the trip while she slept. He didn’t need as much rest as she did. Plus, he’d been unable to sleep deeply, his need to watch over her driving out all others. He’d changed his mind about what they should do with the Knight’s trinket.
“Not yet. If it is a trap, let them spring it.” Let the Knights come to them. It was the only way he could find and eliminate the men after her.
“You can’t mean that?” She seemed horrified and scrambled off his lap. Hands on her hips, she glared down at him. “That’s too dangerous.”
He reached for her, but she backed away. His scowl deepened. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he promised.
“I’m not worried about me. Well, no, I am, but not just about me. I’m expendable. They want you.”
Hearing her speak of herself that way made smoke seep from his nostrils. Fury the likes of which he hadn’t felt in many a long year stirred deep inside.
“You are not expendable,” he corrected.
She looked at him with worried eyes. “Let’s destroy the bracelet. Please. What if they can track it?” Her eyes went wide, and she swallowed heavily. “What if they know where we are even now? We should have gotten rid of it before we left the city.”
Her distress was making his dragon anxious. “Once we are somewhere safe and away from people, we will,” he promised. It was highly likely the Knights could use the bracelet as some kind of magical tracking device. He’d thought as much when he’d first seen the thing wrapped around her wrist. His immediate instinct had been to use it to trap and kill the men after him so they were no longer a threat. But now his priorities had changed.
As much as he’d like to use the bracelet as bait to lure Anton Bruno and his men, he didn’t want to upset Abigail any more than she already was. There were other ways to find out more about Bruno and his men. It would take longer, but it was doable.
He knew she wouldn’t be in danger. He wouldn’t allow it. And Vasili didn’t believe he was being arrogant to think that way. He was a drakon, and he would protect his woman.
The train began to slow. “We are almost there,” he told her.
She looked away and gathered her things, looping her bag over her shoulder. “What will happen now?”
“I keep a truck near the station. We will get it and head out of the city.” Best to get away from people as soon as possible. It would be easier to see the Knights coming. As much as he’d like to believe they’d outwitted them, he knew better. Even if the magic in the bracelet couldn’t be tracked, the Knights had informants everywhere. Bruno and his men would be waiting for them and would make a move at some point.
He wanted Abigail safe before that happened. The only place he knew he could leave her was his mountain fortress.
The brakes on the train sounded as they came to a complete halt on the tracks. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand, and she slipped her fingers around his. “Stay close,” he reminded her.
“I will,” she promised. He caught the glint of the stone from the bracelet peeking out from beneath her sleeve. Maybe he should have already destroyed it, but it was too late for second-guessing now.
He yanked open the cabin door and moved quickly down the narrow corridor, easing through the crowds also trying to get off. Using his big body, he made a path for them. Some people grumbled, but most simply got out of his way.
Then they were on the platform. He breathed in the cold air and the stench of fuel and humanity. He hustled Abigail through the station and out onto the streets, keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious. But there were simply too many people around, too many places for someone to hide. It might be late March, but the city was alive with people and activity at this time of the day.
The lunchtime rush hour would be over, and the restaurants would no longer be crowded. They needed food, but they needed to get away from here more. “Come.” He led her to the right. She didn’t complain as they walked for fifteen minutes. She hurried to keep up with his longer strides, their boots scrunching in the snow that partially covered the sidewalk. Normally, he’d slow down to match her shorter steps, but the back of his neck was tingling. Someone was watching them.
Her fingers tightened around his. “Do you feel it?” she asked.
He was surprised once again by her depth of perception. Most people never realized when they were being followed.
“Yes.” He turned into the long-term parking lot. The attendant greeted him in Russian. Vasili paid him in cash, slipping him extra. The extra assured his ride was still there and waiting for him. That wasn’t always the case in lots like these.
He ushered Abigail into the passenger side of his truck and then climbed behind the wheel. Within seconds, he was turning out onto the road.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the seat.
“Put your seat belt on,” he told her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be injured if they had an accident.
She snapped the restraint on and then stared pointedly at him. He smiled. “I don’t need one. I cannot be hurt in an accident,” he reminded her.
“Good to be you,” she commented.
He frowned at her sharp reply. It wasn’t like her. Not at all. She was rubbing her forehead. “Headache?” he asked, suddenly worried. She needed food and proper rest. More water, too.
“Yeah. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Vasili felt several of his tattoos begin to tingle. Not his birthmark, but the ones he’d purposely had inked on his skin.
He pulled out of the garage and made his way out of the city. The longer he drove, the more doubts seeped into his brain, along with a steady pressure that made him irritable. With the doubts came questions.
Why had Abigail stayed with him? She’d followed him easily, letting him take the lead. Did she believe she could insinuate herself into his life? That she would make him vulnerable?
She was probably working for the Knights of the Dragon. Those bastards were everywhere. How much had they paid her to wear the bracelet and walk around Moscow, trying to lure one of his kind? She had a sales receipt for the thing, but that was easily faked.
Maybe she was a fake, too. All those stories she’d told him just that. And how did he know the people she’d talked with were related to her? They could all be working for the Knights, for Anton Bruno.
Maybe even Father Petrov was in on the whole scheme from the beginning.
Anger pumped through his veins. He loosened his grip on the steering wheel before he cracked it. If they thought they could capture him so easily, he’d show them.
He’d kill her and leave her body for them to find. His entire being rebelled at the thought of harming her. No, I can’t hurt her.
Better to disappear into the mountains where puny humans couldn’t follow him. What had he been thinking to bring her so close to his home? He hadn’t been thinking. Obviously, she was in on the plan with the Knights, scheming against him.
Yes, he needed to kill her.
His dragon roared to life inside him, shaking him from his dire thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he thinking such crazy things?
His tattoos were practically burning his flesh.
Magic. Someone was trying to use magic on him. He glanced toward Abigail. Her entire body was stiff, as though she was frozen. Her hands rested in her lap, and the stone in the bracelet was glowing.
Bastard Knights were trying to make him kill her. They were trying to trap him. If he spilled her blood, he had no doubt it would activate some secondary spell. And there was nothing more powerful or darker than blood magic.
Thankfully, they were far outside the city limits. He had no idea how long he’d been driving, as he’d been lost in the fog of anger and suspicion the s
pell had cast around him. If not for the talismans inked on his body, he’d be ensnared in the web of dark magic being cast over them.
He saw a good spot just ahead and pulled his truck over onto the side of the road. She turned her head and stared at him. But it wasn’t her eyes staring back at him. Her beautiful blue eyes were now a dark brown, filled with cunning and deceit.
It had to be the mage.
Vasili knew he had to pretend. At least until he figured out how to break the spell. Whoever had a hold on Abigail might well be able to kill her. He knew the bracelet was the key.
He should have destroyed the damn thing when he had the chance. But Abigail had wanted to protect it, and he’d been enthralled. Now he had to believe that was intentional, a part of the spell itself. All he could do now was fight the compulsions.
In his arrogance, he’d assumed he could protect her. And he could from most things, but not from magic. He might be warded against such things, but she wasn’t. That left her vulnerable.
Once again, the Knights were using her as a pawn in their games.
He vowed he would kill them all. But first, he had to get them out of this deadly situation. He wanted to grab Abigail and run with her, far and fast. Instead, he growled at her. “Get out.”
…
Anton Bruno paced in front of Evgeny. They were situated in a clearing about an hour outside of Omsk. His men had eyes on Abigail Owens and the man with her. And from all accounts, he was big enough to be a dragon.
One of his men had paid the agent at the train station and learned the name the stranger had given when he’d purchased their tickets. Vasili Zima. It was unknown to him. It might also be phony. The fact that his hacker could find little on the man meant the name was either fake or the stranger might well be a drakon.
“Is it working?”
He hated having to depend on someone else, especially someone like Evgeny. Anton disliked being beholden to those who were more powerful than him. There was only one other person he feared other than Evgeny, and that was Karina Azarov, the leader of the Knights of the Dragon. Now that was one stone-cold bitch. He planned to displace her someday, but to do that, he needed a source of dragon blood.
He admitted he’d been careless with the last one. The creature had somehow managed to end its own life rather than remain captive. A miscalculation on his part. One he wouldn’t make again. Now he needed another.
He had Evgeny on his payroll. And now he was close to having a dragon as well. He rubbed his hands together for warmth and then reached for the bottle of vodka he’d brought with him.
“The spell is complex,” Evgeny muttered. He was peering into a large silver bowl, filled with pure spring water. Whatever he was seeing, only he could view it. Anton wouldn’t rest until he could learn to see for himself.
“But it will work?” he demanded. He was too close to having what he wanted to let it slip through his fingers. Dragons weren’t exactly plentiful. Most hid themselves well. The few that didn’t, that made mistakes, had already been taken by other high-ranking Knights.
Anton thought his idea to use a bespelled bracelet to trap one was brilliant.
“Yes, it will work. The spell on the bracelet attracted the dragon. I’m not sure why it attracted the woman. I wish she could be left alive, but unfortunately her death and blood are necessary for this secondary spell to work.”
“What exactly are you doing?” He wanted the knowledge for himself but knew Evgeny would never share. Like before, Evgeny worked from memory, not a book that Anton could steal. The mage was a clever bastard.
He’d chanted in languages Anton didn’t recognize. He’d burned herbs and mixed potions. There had been an animal sacrifice as well. A crow’s blood had been added to the mixture. The magic had brewed powerful and potent. Deadly. Then Evgeny had drunk the brew and directed the resulting energy.
Anton wanted to know how to do what the mage did. Casting a spell from a distance, tapping into the existing spell on the bracelet took skill, knowledge, and power.
But he was patient. Once he had a supply of drakon’s blood, he could live forever. Time would be on his side. He’d eventually learn what he needed to know. When he did, Evgeny would be expendable.
The mage looked up from the silver bowl and stared at him, as though he could read Anton’s thoughts. And maybe he could. He’d have to guard against that in the future.
“Right now, the dragon is getting paranoid, beginning to believe the woman betrayed him. The woman is getting more fearful, believing the creature will kill her. Once he does, her blood will come in contact with the bracelet. It will activate the spell I just cast, creating a magical cage for the dragon until you can get there and tranquilize him for transport.”
“Excellent.” Anton’s phone rang, and he grabbed it. “Yes.”
“Sir, they’ve pulled over.”
“Where?” He began to move, but Evgeny stayed where he was. Anton couldn’t allow that. “You’re coming with me.” He pointed at Evgeny.
“Why?”
“I might need you. In case the spell doesn’t work.” He thought his reasoning sound.
Evgeny frowned. “It will work.”
Evgeny’s arrogance was a match for his own. It was better if he didn’t have to force the mage to accompany him. He wanted to stay on the man’s good side as long as he was necessary for Anton’s plans.
“Don’t you want to be there to taste first blood?”
As expected, Evgeny licked his lips. If there was one thing Anton understood, it was human nature, especially greed. The mage wanted the dragon blood as much as he did.
“Of course. You’re right. I should be there.”
He wanted to hurry the mage along but managed to hold his tongue. It wouldn’t take them long to get there. By the time they arrived at the secluded location, the dragon should have killed the woman and be trapped by the blood spell.
He was so close. Not much longer, and he’d have a dragon of his own. After years of waiting, he was close to finally achieving his goal.
Chapter Thirteen
Abigail was terrified. Why in God’s name had she gone off with a total stranger? She’d made love to him, too? That wasn’t like her. Not at all. He must have slipped her something. Yes, that had to be it. He’d drugged her tea in the restaurant when he’d approached her. He must have. She’d imagined the rest, the danger and the people after her. All so he could kidnap her.
After all, he’d taken her phone, destroyed it so she couldn’t contact her family, couldn’t get help. He was dangerous, and she needed to escape.
Her temples throbbed, and the back of her skull ached as though someone had smashed it with a bat. Her stomach was roiling, and she was sweating. Maybe whatever drug he’d given her was wearing off.
“Get out,” he told her.
He was angry. His fingers were curled into massive fists. He could kill her now.
She jerked her seat belt off and clawed at the door. As soon as it opened, she jumped out. But her legs refused to take her any farther. Her mind was foggy, making it difficult to think beyond the fear crushing down on her.
Then it was too late. He was already out of the truck stalking toward her.
She held out her arms as if she could somehow keep him away. The sleeve of her coat and sweater pulled back, exposing the bracelet she’d purchased. It was warm against her skin, the stone glinting in the sunlight. It was so pretty. She’d had to have it. She stared at it, mesmerized by the blue gem. The silver band was making her arm tingle.
A shadow fell over her, breaking her concentration. He was only a few steps away. He was so big, so strong. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides.
She couldn’t let him touch her.
She knew he’d kill her if he did, but she wasn’t concerned about herself anymore. It was as though she was outside her body, watching the scene unfold. Something about this wasn’t right. She should be running and screaming, not standing here like a cow waiti
ng to be slaughtered.
A fuzzy thought tried to push through the fog, filling her brain. Why wasn’t she running? Why didn’t she care enough to move?
Because she couldn’t. None of her muscles would respond. Her heart was pounding, her breathing quickening to an alarming rate, but her feet were stuck to the ground.
It isn’t natural.
It isn’t natural. She said the phrase to herself again, practically screaming it in the quiet of her mind. This wasn’t normal. This was magic.
The bracelet was manipulating them somehow. She tried to grab the band with her other hand but couldn’t move it. Sweat rolled down her temples, even with the chilly temperature surrounding her. Despite her best efforts, all she could do was stand there and wait for Vasili to kill her.
Deep her in gut, she knew when he did, all hell would break loose.
He raised his hand, and she tried to duck away. If he made contact with her, she feared neither of them would have a chance to escape whatever snare the Knights had set for them.
…
Vasili noted the bead of sweat trickling down Abigail’s face. He heard her heavy breathing and the throbbing of her heart. She was afraid, but all she did was stand there and watch him.
She was trapped.
Her eyes, which were blue once again, pleaded with him. He wasn’t sure what she was begging him for. Not to kill her? Not to hurt her?
He struggled to find the emotional connection he felt for her, but it wasn’t easy. Even with the tattoos protecting him, the magic in the spell was strong. Whoever created this spell had to die. This knowledge could not be allowed out into the world where it could destroy other drakons.
He reached out until his fingers were almost touching her. The muscles in her jaw clenched. Her throat rippled, and her lips parted. “Don’t.” Just one word, but it stopped him in his tracks. His hand hovered in the air not an inch from her skin.
“Why?”
Her heartbeat increased to the point where he feared she might collapse. Still, she stayed upright.
Her lips moved. Her face turned red. “Tra—” Before she could finish, her air was cut off, and she began to gasp.
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