Drakon's Plunder (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

Ezra was in his human form about twenty feet from the boat, trying to decide on the best way to sneak onboard, when he first caught sight of the woman creeping along the port side. With his preternatural vision, he could see perfectly. It was obvious she was trying to hide. She had a black wool hat pulled down over her head, was swathed in a large dark coat, and moved furtively along the deck, keeping to the shadows.

  He glanced at the bow of the ship where the lone guard stood, cigarette in hand. Ezra had circled the boat twice already, and this seemed to be the only man keeping watch outside.

  Who was the woman, and what was she doing?

  His dragon stirred inside, wanting him to move closer. He glided until he was only about fifteen feet away. She glanced over her shoulder, but he knew she couldn’t see him in the dark.

  He watched while she untied the rubber dinghy and dropped it into the water. Was she leaving? Curiosity piqued, he drifted closer and watched her frantically trying to find the paddle. He sensed her relief when she finally found it. Seconds later, she began to paddle.

  A spotlight came on, shining right at the dinghy. Ezra managed to duck beneath the waves and swim into the shadows before it caught him in its glow. By the time he surfaced, a man was standing on the deck with a gun pointed at the woman.

  A slow anger began to burn inside Ezra.

  “You didn’t really think I bought the whole story about there being nothing in the urn but a necklace, did you, Sam?”

  To give the woman credit, she didn’t stop paddling. “You wanted gold, Aaron. Now you have some. That necklace is worth a small fortune.”

  “But it’s nowhere near as valuable as what you have in your pocket.” He laughed when her hand went to her jacket. “I knew the second you went back to the lab. There’s nowhere on this ship you can go without me knowing about it. Now stop.” He fired a shot that landed just in front of the dinghy. Sam set the paddle down on the floor of the boat.

  “I can’t let you have this.”

  Ezra could tell the woman was terrified but was trying to appear brave. He wondered what she had that was more valuable than gold. Whatever it was, it was probably what he’d come here to retrieve.

  She pulled a small plastic bag from her pocket and opened it. The angle she held it at made it impossible for Ezra to see what was inside. The man on deck began to swear. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned her. “We can talk about this.”

  She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’ve always known you planned to kill me. Just like you killed Brian.”

  “Who the hell is Brian?” the man demanded.

  She held the open bag out over the rim of the dinghy, perilously close to the waves. “Brian was my mentor. He was the only family I had. Well, you can all rot in hell before I’ll give you this book. If I can’t have it, no one can.”

  What had Ezra stumbled into? A power play among members of the Knights? Those in the lower ranks of the society frequently jockeyed for position, often killing one another to move upward. There was little honor among them.

  He didn’t like thinking that about the woman, but he didn’t know what else to believe. His dragon didn’t like her talking about another man, even if she spoke of him as though he was family. He struggled to keep the creature in check and stay in his human form. Now was not the time to shift. Not yet.

  “Come on, Sam,” the man called Aaron cajoled. “We can work this out. There’s no reason for you to do this.”

  “I can’t.” She shook her head and looked resigned.

  “That’s really too bad.” Aaron raised his weapon.

  Ezra realized what he was about to do and rocketed through the water, shifting on the fly. His dragon became a living torpedo with a single target.

  A shot rang out just as he rammed the Integrity. He heard men yelling as the boat shuddered and shook and began to take on water from the huge hole in the bow. Ezra circled and rammed the ship again, this time driving it onto its side.

  He used his powerful wings to propel him underwater and back to the side of the dinghy. It had also taken on water when the bigger vessel faltered. The woman—Sam—lay on her side on the bottom of the small boat, blood mixing with the seawater puddled around her.

  There was no time to waste. He grabbed the line from the dinghy in his mouth and began to swim, cutting through the water. He had no idea how badly she’d been wounded. He wasn’t even quite sure why he cared, but he did.

  He couldn’t let her die. He needed to know more about her, why she was with the Knights, and what was in that bag she’d been holding. He hadn’t noticed the plastic bag in the boat. Oh well, if it was there, he’d find it, and if she’d dropped it overboard, it had already sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

  The crew from the Integrity wouldn’t be retrieving it tonight. They’d be too busy trying to save their own lives.

  Once Ezra had Sam settled in his home, he could swim back and check on the wreck and the artifact, if need be.

  Chapter Four

  Ezra grabbed the edge of the wharf and hauled himself out of the water. It had taken him almost an hour to get here even at top speed. He was exhausted, but he ignored the fatigue in his limbs.

  Had Sam died on the way here? He’d stopped out of sight of the wreck long enough to check on her, but it had been impossible to tell just how badly she was injured. He hadn’t wanted to remove her jacket to examine the wound because it was cold, and she needed all the layers she could get. In the end, he’d found a man’s sweater on the floor of the boat, ripped it enough to form a bandage, and wrapped that on the outside of her coat. It was all he’d been able to do while they were at sea.

  He reached into the boat and lifted her limp body. His fatigue slipped away only to be replaced by worry. Her skin was cool and pale. He placed two fingers on the side of her neck and found a fluttering pulse.

  She was still alive.

  He hurried up the dock toward the house. He only had a couple of hours until dawn, maybe less. Before the sun rose, he needed to get Sam settled and sink that dinghy far away from his island.

  He shoved the door open. It was never locked since he lived by himself on an island. Dripping water everywhere, he carried her up the stairs. He hesitated outside one of the guest rooms before heading to the master. He carefully set Sam down on his bed and turned on the bedside light.

  She moaned and moved restlessly. The corners of her mouth turned down. She was obviously in pain.

  He unwrapped the makeshift bandage, but it wasn’t easy. The water had made the knot tight. Sam moaned when he accidentally hurt her. “I’m sorry.” He hated causing her more pain, but there was nothing he could do.

  He tossed the soggy mess on the floor and started on her coat next. He swore under his breath as he removed her outer layer and then the sweater underneath. The left side of her thermal shirt was splotched with blood.

  He left her long enough to grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom. Placing it on the bed beside her, he popped open the top. He didn’t have much experience with this kind of thing. He was hard to injure and quick to heal.

  Sam was human and much more fragile.

  He grabbed the scissors and cut the sleeve of her shirt, exposing a seeping wound. He leaned closer to inspect it. It was just a flesh wound. She’d gotten lucky, and he didn’t think it was because the man who’d shot her was inexperienced. It was most likely because she’d moved just in the nick of time.

  He left her long enough to get a pan of warm, soapy water and a clean cloth. Working quickly, he cleaned the wound, being careful to remove all the fibers embedded in it from her shirt. It had stopped bleeding, but it was doing so again by the time he was finished. Once he was sure it was free from any debris, he disinfected and covered it with a thick bandage secured with gauze. It was the best he could do.

  Now that the worst had been taken care of, Ezra took a good look at his houseguest for the first time.

  She was still wearing the dark watch cap on her head. He pulled
it off and was surprised to find a shock of red hair hidden beneath. The curls seemed to explode from beneath the cap. He hadn’t expected her to be a redhead, not with her porcelain skin and no freckles in sight. Her face was more heart shaped than round, and she had a stubborn chin and straight nose.

  His breathing quickened when he realized he was becoming aroused just looking at her. And he was still naked. If she woke now, she’d probably scream the house down.

  He left her long enough to drag on a pair of sweatpants. That would do for now.

  She shivered, and he felt like smacking himself in the head. She was still wearing wet clothes. She had to be freezing. She couldn’t regulate her body temperature like he could.

  He started at her feet and removed her water-logged sneakers first. He’d have to take them downstairs and put them somewhere to dry. He removed her jeans next. That wasn’t an easy task. They were soaking wet and stuck to her like a second skin. He thought about just cutting them off, but that would leave her with nothing to wear.

  He set to work, patiently drawing the cold fabric down her legs.

  …

  Sam’s arm throbbed and felt as though it were on fire. What had happened? She lay trying to get her bearings when she felt someone tugging on her jeans. Fear tasted acrid and sour in her mouth. Had Aaron done something to her?

  Why couldn’t she remember what had happened? And where was she?

  Feigning sleep, she opened her eyes a slit and immediately slammed them shut. It wasn’t Aaron touching her, but a man she’d never seen before.

  He was big. Maybe the biggest man she’d ever seen. He was naked from the waist up and had broad shoulders and rippling abs, the kind she’d never seen outside of a magazine cover.

  His shoulder-length brown hair was damp and framed a ruggedly handsome face. His lips were compressed into a hard line as he worked her jeans off. Why the hell was he removing her clothing? Why were they wet? And why was she so cold?

  “I know you’re awake,” he told her.

  Her eyes flew open before she could stop herself. A gaze as turquoise as a Mediterranean sea studied her. She’d never seen anyone with eyes quite that color before. She licked her salty lips, suddenly not nearly as cold as she’d been only moments before.

  Then sanity returned, along with a shot of adrenaline, and she kicked him, or tried to. She was so damn weak. “What do you think you’re doing? Leave my clothes alone.”

  “You need to get warm. They’re not helping.” Ignoring her feeble attempts to stop him, he dragged her jeans off and tossed them aside.

  Her shivering increased. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in my home.” He seemed to hesitate, his brows lowering and his features settling into a fierce glare. “You were drifting in a dinghy.” He watched her as if waiting for something, some recognition.

  She surged upward and then cried out as pain bolted down her left arm.

  “Whoa.” He caught her and eased her back down. “You’re not going anywhere at the moment. You were shot.”

  Aaron. Her attempted escape. The sound of gunfire.

  “You—” She ignored the fatigue pulling at her and pushed beyond the pain throbbing through her arm and down her shoulder. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “You have to let me go.” It was too dangerous for her to be around this man, whoever he was. “Not safe.” Aaron and the Knights would be searching for her.

  The book.

  Ignoring the pain, she surged upright and began frantically searching for her coat.

  “What are you looking for?” His deep voice shocked her from her panic.

  It occurred to her she was in a strange place with a strange man and no idea how she’d gotten here. She didn’t know if he was with the Knights or not. “Nothing.” She couldn’t afford to trust anyone. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “Ezra,” he told her as he reached down, picked up her coat, and began to methodically go through the pockets.

  “Leave that alone.” She tried to sound assertive, but she was too weak for it to come out as more than a whisper. She was shivering harder now and her teeth began to chatter.

  Ezra yanked the baggie out of the inside pocket of her coat. “Is this what you’re looking for?” He was watching her, not looking at what he was holding.

  She gave a curt nod. “Dangerous. Have to keep it safe.”

  He studied her intently, and in spite of the chills wracking her frame, she began to feel warmer. He opened the bedside table and tossed the book still in the bag into the drawer. “It’s safe enough there.”

  As though she were a child, he worked the tattered remains of her thermal shirt off, leaving her only in her underwear. She was very conscious of being nearly naked around a stranger, a stranger who’d seemingly saved her life, but a stranger nonetheless.

  When he reached for the strap of her bra, she jerked back.

  He crossed his arms over his extremely large chest and pinned her with a glare. “You can’t rest in wet clothes.”

  “I’m not getting naked in front of you.” She might be weak, but she was still a fighter. One corner of his mouth quirked upward, softening his harsh features and making him look even more handsome. There was something primal and compelling about him.

  “You’re weak and need help,” he needlessly pointed out.

  “Bully,” she countered.

  “I’m concerned about your health. You’re borderline hypothermic.” She knew he was right, but she still couldn’t make herself get naked in front of a stranger.

  Finally, he sighed and walked over to a large closet door. He yanked it open and pulled out a flannel shirt. “Put this on.” He brought it to the bed and handed it to her. Then he turned his back.

  Sam figured this was as good as it was going to get. And honestly, she was too tired to argue further. She tried to reach around and unhook her bra, but it was difficult with only one good arm. And when she tried to twist, she hurt her injured one.

  As soon as she moaned in pain, Ezra whirled around. Without saying a word, he unhooked her bra and eased the straps down her arms before tossing the plain cotton garment aside.

  She was blushing. She could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks. Ezra ignored her bare breasts and concentrated on maneuvering her arms into the armholes of the shirt. When it was on, he buttoned the garment. It was so large it was more like a flannel nightshirt. It was warm and cozy and made her feel safe. It also smelled slightly of him, like salt air on a crisp day.

  The backs of his fingers brushed against her skin as he worked his way to the last button. Sam sucked in a breath but didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure she could speak.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she responded so quickly and completely to a man. He had big hands that could snap her like a twig, but he was incredibly gentle as he finished securing the garment.

  Before she could relax, he thrust his hands under the hem. Sam shrieked and tried to bat his hands away, but he grabbed the waistband of her underwear and peeled them off. Now she was naked but for the shirt.

  As much as it pained her to admit it, it felt good to have the wet clothes away from her skin. She was already feeling warmer.

  Ezra lifted her enough to pull the covers out from under her. Then he tucked her beneath them. She automatically curled onto her side and almost saw stars when she put pressure on her wound. How could she have forgotten to be careful of a gunshot wound?

  Panting hard, she rolled onto her back. She felt Ezra hovering over her, but thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions. Finally, the pain and the sick feeling in her stomach passed enough for her to open her eyes.

  “How bad is it?” She gestured to her bandaged arm.

  “Flesh wound. Could have been worse. Infection is your biggest problem.”

  Sam nodded. She couldn’t go to a hospital. Come to think of it, why hadn’t Ezra taken her to a hospital? “Where am I?”

  “My home.”

  She frowned. That told her exactly nothing.
Fatigue swamped her, and she yawned before she could form her next question.

  “Sleep. You’re safe here.”

  Oddly enough, she believed him. She’d travelled all over the world, relying on her instincts to keep her safe. They’d never steered her wrong. Getting in trouble with the Knights had been her own doing. She’d ignored her instincts in her search for justice. If Ezra wanted to hurt her, there was nothing she could do to stop him in her condition. He’d done just the opposite, taking care of her in spite of her protests.

  Her eyes fluttered shut and she sank into the warm bed, letting it cradle her. She thought she felt his hand brush her hair. It was a totally unexpected gesture of kindness and made her eyes prickle with unshed tears.

  The stress from her attempted escape, from living and working under pressure for so long coupled with the trauma of her injury and the cold, pulled her under. She should warn Ezra about the Knights of the Dragon. She was leaving him vulnerable.

  She tried to open her mouth to speak, but darkness swept her away before she could utter a single word.

  …

  Ezra knew the moment Sam lost consciousness. Her entire body relaxed and the hand clutching the covers released its death grip. She was like a flame with her red hair vibrant and alive against his plain white pillowcase. Her eyes were a brilliant green and filled with intelligence and strength.

  He glanced down at the front of his pants and shook his head in wonder. He was as hard as a rock. That was unusual. Sure, he had a healthy sex drive, but he’d always been in control of it. He’d met some of the most beautiful women who’d ever lived during his long lifetime. Some he’d watched from a distance, others he’d shared more intimate relationships with, but never had he been in anything less than perfect control.

  Why Sam? Why now?

  He gathered her belongings and started to leave the room, hesitating at the doorway, not wanting to leave her. He should be more worried about what was in the book she’d stolen. Whatever it was, it was dangerous and should be locked in his safe until it could be examined properly.

  But he’d promised her it would be safe in the nightstand drawer.