After their last encounter, he hadn’t skimped with manpower or firepower. Yes, lives would be lost, but that was a price he was willing to pay—as long as the life in question wasn’t his. It was only a matter of time until the dragon belonged to him.
In the meantime, he wanted to see the dragon’s lair. There could be secrets hidden there, and knowledge was power. There was no telling what the creature was hoarding.
With the shouts of his men and the roar of gunfire echoing behind him, he entered the ramshackle cabin. He knew the dragon didn’t live here. It was too small and dilapidated. It was simply a front to hide his real home.
Bruno went straight to the back wall that pressed up against the mountain. If there was a secret entrance, this was the place to start. If his instincts were wrong, he’d keep looking.
The fighting seemed to be getting closer. He looked over his shoulder and out the front window, grunting with displeasure when he saw one of his men go up in flames. They had plenty of tranquilizer darts and should be able to easily bring down the dragon. If the unthinkable happened and they should fail, he had a bespelled statue in his pocket that should hold the creature at bay while he called for more reinforcements. He’d rather bring the dragon down outside using drugs and manpower and not have to rely on magic. He’d had a firsthand and very costly lesson that had taught him it wasn’t always reliable.
Getting back to work, he surveyed the small space. The stove was the only thing he could see that would be large enough to cover an opening. He ran his hands over the ancient metal contraption, pressing and pulling until he heard a click.
Feeling smug, he stepped into the opening. It was dark, so he reached into his pocket, drew out his phone, and used the flashlight app to light his way. The tunnel was shorter than he’d expected and ended in an old mining elevator.
Bruno stepped into the metal contraption and finally found the lever to operate it. He pocketed his phone and pulled out his gun. When he reached the bottom, he was surprised to be greeted by the American woman.
Her smile faded to shock.
He smiled. “Expecting someone else?” He exited the elevator and went toward her, keeping the weapon trained on her at all times. “We’ll wait and see if my men can subdue the beast. If not…” He let his words trail off.
“Ah, ah.” He shook his head when she started to move away. “Don’t make me shoot you.” He glanced at her wrist, but it was bare. “What happened to the bracelet?” Drakon tears were too rare to lose, and the magic that the piece contained couldn’t be easily replicated now that the mage was dead.
“Gone.” She stood her ground, seeming almost defiant. He didn’t mind. It would make breaking her later that much more pleasurable. It was too bad about the bracelet, but he still had the other pieces he’d distributed. The thought of having more than one dragon under his control was delicious.
In the meantime, he’d use the woman to help him get what he wanted. He wrapped his arm around her neck and pressed the barrel of the gun against her temple.
“Relax,” he told her, relishing her shiver of fear. “It will all be over soon.”
The dragon had saved her. That alone made her special. Would another drakon be drawn to her? Something to consider. With her as his hostage, there was no way he could lose. If the dragon made it past his men, he’d use the woman to control it.
Things were finally going his way.
…
Vasili dodged to one side in the air, barely avoiding a spray of the tranquilizer darts hurtling toward him. Most of them would have bounced off his armored body, but he didn’t want to risk one hitting the vulnerable area of his neck.
After having a large dose of the stuff not that long ago, he wasn’t keen on getting hit again. If he were alone, he could fly off and regroup. But with Abigail hidden in his fortress, he had no choice but to fight, to eliminate the threat.
He retaliated by swooping down and raining fire upon the men below. He might not be as powerful as a fire drakon, but all drakons had the ability to shoot deadly flames from their mouths. They’d dared to attack his woman. For that, there could be no mercy.
They wanted to shoot him down, capture him, all so they could drink his blood. They’d brought this war to him.
So be it. He had great reverence for life, but he was also half dragon and would protect himself at all costs.
He was going to end this war with Bruno here and now. There could be no survivors, no one who could point the finger toward him, but most of all, toward Abigail. A survivor could be used by another Knight.
Screams ripped through the night as men were incinerated on the spot or set aflame, depending on how close they were to the center of his fiery breath. He went for the trucks next. As he swooped down, he ignored the puny bullets that ricocheted off his heavy scales as though they were nothing but pebbles flung at him.
Using his acute vision, he spied a man with a rocket launcher on his shoulder. It was similar to the one Bruno had used to dart him. Vasili dropped just as the man fired. The darts flew harmlessly over him. Vasili, however, kept going and grabbed the man in one large, clawed hand. His attacker yelled and screamed for mercy, but he ignored the man’s pleas and flung him to the ground.
He turned sharply in the air to avoid another attack. Most humans were caught off guard by how fast he could move, expecting him to be slow and ponderous because of his great size. But he was swift, able to maneuver quickly through and around the trees. He’d lived here a long time and had cut wide paths through the surrounding forest hundreds of years ago, just so he could fly at night without being seen. He’d utilized them for pure pleasure, but they could also be used for defense.
He cornered sharply and took the path to his right, knowing it would bring him back around behind his attackers. Several of the smarter men were expecting that and shot at him. One even launched a grenade. He caught it in one hand, closing his claws around it as it exploded harmlessly. He dropped the remains of the explosive onto the ground.
He kept scanning the area for Bruno but couldn’t see him. It was likely the coward was hanging back, waiting to see what happened. He’d run before and would likely try to again.
It was time to end this. Abigail was inside waiting for him, and the men were closer to the cabin than he was comfortable with.
As he swept over the group, he breathed deep and let forth a flame that devoured everything in its path—men, machinery, forest. Even the rocks exploded and burned. He repeated the pattern again and again until there was nothing left but flames that danced in the air, lighting up the night.
Desperate, the men fired dart after dart of the debilitating drug, but Vasili weaved and ducked, using his knowledge of the terrain to avoid them all as he continued to rain fire down upon them until there were no more mercenaries left to fight.
Then he took another deep breath, drawing in the cool air, tasting the snow and ice that covered the surrounding mountains. He released the breath, dousing the flames, until there was nothing but scorched earth. He was sorry for harming the land, but there had been no other choice.
Immediate threat taken care of, he swept over the area, searching for another vehicle hidden somewhere, needing to find Bruno. Vasili hadn’t seen him, and he’d been searching. After several flyovers, he conceded there was nothing. He’d have to go hunting for his enemy. The coward had fled.
For now, he needed to get back to Abigail.
He flew quickly back to the clearing in front of the cabin and landed, shifting back to his human form. He inhaled deeply, and his heart skipped a beat. Someone had been here. Someone had slipped by him during the fierce fighting and made it to the cabin.
He rushed inside, fury and fear battling within him. The secret door behind the stove was wide open. Someone had taken the elevator down. He sniffed the air. Abigail hadn’t come up, but a man had gone down.
In his heart, he knew who it was. Bruno hadn’t run. He’d proved himself a very smart adversary and had gon
e after Vasili’s heart instead.
He walked to the elevator shaft and stepped into the void. The simple box elevator didn’t have a roof, so he landed at the bottom of the shaft, legs bent, hands open.
“Thank you for finally joining us.” Bruno was standing behind Abigail, using her as a shield. He had a gun in his hand, and it was pointed at her head. “Stay where you are or I’ll kill her.”
Vasili wasn’t a regular drakon. He’d always been different, had been weak as a child. But that so-called weakness had developed into titanium strength and a keen intellect. He wasn’t an earth drakon. Nor was he a fire or air one. He wasn’t even a water drakon, not really, although that was the closest he came to being normal for one of his kind.
No, he was an ice drakon, born high in the frigid Ural Mountains. Everything inside him froze. From beneath his bare feet, the floor began to crack. Ice formed and began to spread. It crept over the floor and around the walls. His breath was like a thick ice fog, filling the air around him.
Bruno seemed stunned, taking a step back as the ice crept closer to him. “What are you?”
He couldn’t look at Abigail. If he did, he feared he would lose his mind. Instead, he focused all his attention on his enemy and smiled. “Don’t you know? I’m an ice drakon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Abigail was terrified, but probably not nearly as afraid as she should be.
Vasili was scarier than he’d ever been before. There was something different about him, remote. It was as though he’d cut off all his emotions.
Ice crept out from under his feet, spreading around the room. She could smell Bruno’s fear, hear it in his increased breathing, feel it in the slight tremble of his body. She was scared, too, but she also trusted her drakon.
The answer he’d given Bruno had left her shivering. Her captor didn’t want to know if he was a drakon, but what kind he was. She didn’t know much about that. She assumed there was earth, air, fire, and water ones, like had been represented in the statues her sister had found. She’d never heard about ice drakons. And from Bruno’s reaction, neither had he.
Vasili hadn’t moved, but he somehow seemed larger, more menacing. The air in the room was growing thicker, like fog but almost icy somehow. And the ice was slowly creeping over the floors and up the walls.
She shivered as the cold penetrated her feet and the fog seemed to wrap around her like a blanket. Or a shroud. Not exactly a pleasant thought.
Vasili’s gaze flicked to a statue that Bruno had placed on the floor between them. She worried about that. Had seen firsthand what such things could do to a drakon. All she could do was hope the magical object didn’t have too much of an effect on him. He’d fought off the compulsion of the bracelet. She’d also spent her time planning how she could break free from Bruno and destroy the statue if it became necessary.
But she needn’t have worried. Vasili simply smiled and shook his head. “More trinkets.”
“Why don’t they work on you?” Bruno demanded.
“I’m special,” he taunted. “Your magic and toys don’t work on me.” He took a step forward.
“I’ll kill her,” Bruno warned, yanking her head back and jamming the gun into her temple. “I know about your kind. I’ve learned much over the years. I controlled my last dragon by using his woman against him.”
“The bracelet,” she whispered. Had the drakon he’d captured given it to his woman, like Nic had given Constance a necklace of rubies?
Bruno chuckled. “It was originally a necklace. I had it taken apart and the gems set into smaller pieces. Several of those pieces were bespelled by a mage and distributed across Moscow and St. Petersburg. But somehow, you found one of the pieces. I was disappointed at first, but then he was attracted to you, and I knew he had to be a dragon.”
“What happened to the drakon you had in captivity?” Vasili sounded calm, too calm, as though he was totally removed from the situation. It was beginning to worry her.
Bruno shrugged. “I neglected the woman’s well-being, and she died. I really didn’t care, but the dragon seemed to know. Somehow, he managed to conjure up enough fire to destroy himself. Why would he do such a thing?”
Bruno seemed truly perplexed. Abigail was horrified by how easily he talked about destroying other people for his own gain. He wasn’t defending himself as Vasili was or as Nic had in Las Vegas. No, he was all about power and wealth, but mostly he was concerned with keeping himself alive.
“You’ll do fine as a replacement,” Bruno continued.
She would not let him have her drakon. They weren’t mated, not really. He hadn’t known her for long and would be fine. Even as she told herself that, her chest ached at the thought of losing him. But Bruno could not be allowed to use her to control Vasili.
She wasn’t having it. She’d rather be dead than have her drakon trapped.
He hadn’t looked at her, not once since he’d stepped into the room. She willed him to do so. As though feeling her gaze, he glanced at her. There was no fire there, no passion, only pure ice.
So be it. It proved her point. Her drakon would survive without her.
Still, she mouthed the words, “I love you,” before lifting her feet and letting Bruno take all her weight.
Everything happened quickly. Bruno grunted and tried to keep his hold on her. Vasili roared. Thrown off-balance, Bruno’s gun slipped from her head. She tried to roll out of the way, but he made a grab for her with his left hand while he raised his right and fired. A sharp pain punched through her leg. The chill from the floor enveloped her when she fell. It was so cold it stole her breath. She closed her eyes against the pain and prayed Vasili would be okay.
…
The ice surrounding Vasili’s heart shattered into a million tiny fragments the second he saw Abigail falling. He’d understood what she’d said, even though the words hadn’t been spoken aloud.
I love you.
He knew then she was planning something. She fell as Bruno fired. Blood spurted from her thigh. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room. Vasili roared and sent his icy breath hurtling toward his enemy. It surrounded him. Encased him. The man was frozen in a solid chunk of ice before he could pull the trigger again.
Vasili leaped toward Abigail, scooping her into his arms. Blood pumped from the wound with every beat of her heart. The bullet had hit an artery. She was dying.
It was too cold out here, so he hurried into the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and ripped open the leg of her jeans. Blood gushed from the hole in her thigh. There was no time to waste. He manifested a claw and swiped it over his skin. When blood began to trickle from the cut, he held it to her mouth. “Drink.”
In spite of her injury, her eyes were open, and she was staring at him. He shoved his arm more firmly against her lips. “Swallow. You must swallow.”
What if she didn’t want to? What if she would rather die than live in his dangerous world?
“For me. Please, little one,” he pleaded. He couldn’t live without her. Wasn’t sure he wanted to. “If you love me, you’ll drink.” Had she meant what she’d mouthed at him before making her desperate bid to be free, or had it simply been the stress of the moment?
She swallowed then, but it wasn’t enough. Her leg was still bleeding. He sliced into his arm again and again, feeding her more and more of his blood until her wound began to close. Only then did he pull his arm away and give a sigh of relief. The bleeding stopped, the artery repairing itself. The ragged skin of her thigh began to close, but not before fibers from her jeans and the mangled bullet pushed to the surface.
She began to shake, then. Lurching up, she grabbed her leg. He caught her hands and pulled them away so she didn’t hurt herself further until the healing really had a chance to take hold. “What is it?”
“Burns,” she managed to get out from between clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry. That’s my blood healing you.” He hated hurting her, even if it was necessary. The worse the wound,
the harder the healing.
She shivered and shook for several minutes. Her cries lashed his soul. Her tears scorched his heart. Finally, it was over. She gave a ragged sigh and relaxed. There was only a tiny scar left on her leg and even that was fading as he watched.
He hung his head, breathing heavily. He’d almost lost her. What would he have done without her?
He knew in his heart, his icy heart that was no longer quite so cold, he would have died without her. He didn’t want to remain in a world without Abigail. He’d been alone for so very long.
When he felt the touch of her hand on his arm, he slowly turned to her. The ice inside him was gone. In its place was a fury the likes of which he’d never known.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.
She blinked several times, seeming disoriented. “I couldn’t let him have you.”
If he lived ten thousand years—no, one hundred thousand—he would never fully understand her. She was fragile, human, yet she kept risking her life for him.
He wasn’t worthy of her. But he would be. He’d work at it until he was.
He brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. “You frightened me.” It wasn’t an easy admission to make. It was also a vast understatement. He hadn’t been frightened. He’d been filled with a bone-deep terror that had shaken him to his core.
“You scared me, too.” She caught his hand and held it to her face. “You seemed so cold, so remote.”
“I couldn’t look at you. I knew if I did, I’d lose control and possibly get you killed.” He sighed when she kissed the palm of his hand.
“Is Bruno dead?”
“Yes.” His enemy was encased in a solid block of ice.
“The rest?”
“Gone.” He’d spare her the gory details. It was enough that she knew he’d protected her. She didn’t need any more nightmare images. She already had enough of those.
He needed to get rid of Bruno’s body before she got up. She didn’t need to see him. And Vasili needed to thaw him out and burn his body. Bruno had ingested drakon blood for years. He wasn’t going to risk his enemy possibly thawing out at some point and coming back to life. “I have to clean up some things,” he told her.
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