Drakon's Promise (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

  “Thank you, but I’d rather you didn’t. If the Knights don’t know about you, let’s keep it that way.”

  A knock on his office door made him pause. “Enter.” Carl Green, his senior lawyer, strode in. Darius motioned him to take a seat. “I’ve got to go,” he told his brother. “But I’ll keep you up to date.”

  “Fuck. Be careful.”

  “I will. I’ll call again soon,” he promised.

  “Every six hours,” Tarrant demanded. They might not see each other as much as they once had, but they were still close.

  “I’ll talk to you then.” He ended the call and set the phone on his desk. He’d dispose of it later.

  “What can I do for you, boss? Jeremy seemed to think it was urgent.”

  “I’m selling off our assets, Carl, and shutting down the office.”

  The other man’s mouth dropped open, and he paled. “You can’t be serious?”

  Darius steepled his fingers and simply stared at his lawyer.

  “Okay, so you are serious. Why?”

  “Because it’s time.” He made it a habit never to explain himself. The less people knew about him, the better. “I want job security included in the sale for anyone who wants it. For those who wish to look elsewhere for work, there will be a generous severance package.”

  Carl pulled a small pad out of his pocket and began jotting notes.

  “Contact Kade Ellis at Ellis Explorations and Gideon Westmont at Westmont Mines. Both men will jump at the chance to buy our mines and exploration rights.”

  “What do I tell them when they ask why you’re selling?” Carl held his hands up in mock surrender when Darius frowned. “You know they’re going to ask.”

  Darius sighed and nodded. “Tell them I’m having health problems.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. If the Knights of the Dragon captured him, his life and continued health would definitely be in jeopardy.

  “Damn. I’m sorry to hear that, Darius. Is there anything I can do?” Carl asked, his concern genuine.

  Darius shook his head. “Just handle this as quietly and quickly as possible. Tell no one and speak only to Kade and Gideon directly. I don’t want this getting out into the media until it’s a done deal.”

  “Got it.” Carl jumped to his feet. “I’ll contact them immediately.” He paused by the door. “I’m really sorry, Darius. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I have to.” He let the other man draw his own conclusions. Faulty ones to be sure, but it was better than telling him the truth. The less Carl knew the better.

  When Carl closed the door behind him, Darius picked up his phone and called his youngest brother. It rang four times before being dumped to voicemail.

  He hung up and punched in another number. It was answered on the first ring. “Hey, Ezra.”

  “What’s wrong?” Darius couldn’t help but smile. Ezra was the most intense of his brothers, and that was saying something, all things considered. He was also as reclusive as Tarrant, maybe more so. He lived on a private island off the coast of Maine, near his beloved ocean. Ezra was a water drakon.

  “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Tarrant told me what was going on. You need to get out of the city now. Come out to the coast with me. Better yet, head to the desert or the mountains somewhere. Hell, go hang out with Tarrant in his Batcave.” The reference to the lair of the fictional superhero made Darius smile in spite of the gravity of the situation.

  “I’ll be sure to let our brother know how you referred to his beloved fortress. You know he’s not fond of the Dark Knight.” Tarrant disliked anything to do with knights of any kind, even if it was only a nickname for a fictional character. He’d been known to bid on priceless suits of armor only to destroy them in the most inventive ways before melting them down into globs of metal. And they all knew not to get him started on the Knights of the Round Table.

  “The Knights of the Dragon aren’t a joke, Darius,” Ezra reminded him. “They’ve killed too many of our kind since their inception.”

  Darius could hear waves crashing in the background and knew his brother was outside, probably needing the water to calm him. “I know, believe me. The last thing I want is to be captured by those lunatics and bled dry. But I have to know who they are and how much they know.” He had to protect his brothers at all cost.

  “Just be careful. Promise me you’ll leave if you even think they’re going to make a move on you.”

  “I’ll be careful.” He had billions of dollars in savings, vaults full of precious metals and priceless jewels, but they weren’t his greatest treasure. That title belonged to his brothers. And like any drakon, he’d do whatever it took to protect his treasure.

  Darius tossed the phone onto his desk, took a deep breath, and rolled up his sleeves. He had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in.

  Chapter Four

  The library had already closed, but Sarah had connections. All the security guards knew her, as she’d often worked after hours over the years. She’d bypassed her former boss and contacted one of the senior staff instead, citing her need to do research for a client. Her former colleague had hesitated, but Sarah had pushed, telling the other woman she was on a deadline. In the end, she’d left word with security to allow Sarah inside.

  It had taken her more time to make the arrangements than she’d hoped. She’d spent the time drinking way too much coffee at a small shop a few streets away and worrying about the situation she’d inadvertently found herself in.

  Now that she was here in the library, she wound her way through the stacks and found a quiet corner. Only then did she sit on the floor and open her knapsack. The book she’d stolen from Mr. Temple pulsed with dark energy. She really didn’t want to touch it, but knew she had no choice. Maybe this book had nothing to do with what was going on with Mr. Temple and his son. It was all speculation at this point.

  But the fact that it had been hidden inside a book of such power and light was suspicious. Someone had known this book was dangerous and had tried to hide it, hoping the pure energy from the Bible would dampen the dark emanations from the smaller book.

  From the argument she’d overheard this afternoon, Mr. Temple wanted her to find a specific book, one that would somehow help him kidnap a man. She guessed such an object would have very dark energy, and this book certainly fit the bill. How it could help Mr. Temple and his son carry out their nasty plan, she had no idea.

  Sarah took a deep breath, centered herself, and wrapped her hands around the faded leather binding. She lowered her protective shields, and the blast of psychic energy whipped her head back. She gritted her teeth and tried to control it. The darkness swirled around her wrists, as if trying to find purchase.

  She did what her grandmother had taught her and surrounded herself with white light. The dark energy recoiled and wrapped itself around the book once again. She heaved a sigh of relief but didn’t relax, not for one second.

  The intensity of the memories radiating from this volume was unlike anything she’d ever come across. It was—dare she say it—alive. The slender, leather-bound manuscript felt more like a sentient thing than an inanimate object. Still, that didn’t mean this particular book had anything to do with Mr. Temple’s quest. A book this old was certain to have memories trapped in the pages.

  There was nothing on the cover of the book, so she opened it. “Knights of the Dragon: Necessary Incantations and Spells.” Not what she’d been expecting. She flipped through the pages, which were all handwritten in what looked to be a combination of Latin, Spanish, and French. She’d have to do some translating. Her language skills were a little rusty, although she’d taken both Latin and French in university because many old books were written in those languages.

  “You’re procrastinating,” she muttered. She leaned against the bookshelf and closed her eyes. She focused on the book, the supple leather binding faded from many years and much handling. The pages were yellowed but undamaged, the writing masculi
ne and bold. She dropped her shields just a little, and images began to bombard her.

  Men in brown robes who made her think of medieval monks stood in a dank stone room that reminded her of an ancient castle. She could smell the damp and mildew, feel the chill in the air.

  Her eyes popped open, and she took a deep breath. Her visions had never been this vivid before. Usually, they were like photographs from the past in black and white and shades of gray. This felt all too real.

  Still, she was committed to uncovering the book’s secrets. There was no turning back.

  She closed her eyes again and concentrated. She was immediately swept back to the stone room. The men, thirteen in all—the ominous number sent a shiver down her spine—were in a circle. She assumed they were all men. It was difficult to tell, given the robes they were wearing, but considering the age of the book it made sense to assume they were mostly, if not all, men. Only two torches lit the room, keeping most of it in shadow. They were chanting something in a language she didn’t immediately recognize.

  She caught a few words and realized it seemed to be a combination of languages, like the text in the book itself. She caught some Latin, French, English, and what she thought might be Spanish. Their voices were low but gained volume as they continued.

  Sarah moved closer. There was something in the center of the circle. She could sense it, but the darkness of the room kept it hidden. Suddenly, more torches sprang to life, though none of the men had moved to light them.

  Even though she wasn’t really there, and this was simply part of the past, Sarah was freaked out. It was like a scene out of a horror movie. She expected to see something gruesome in the center of the men.

  She angled to the left to get a better view. “Oh my God,” she whispered. She’d been expecting a human sacrifice of some kind, most likely a woman, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

  Heavy chains wrapped around a creature’s legs and neck, and giant steel stakes had been pounded into the stone floor to secure them. More chains strapped down his giant tail and body. The beast raised his head as high as he was able and gave a roar that shook the entire room. Sarah jumped back, but the men surrounding the creature were unfazed.

  This had to be a dream. It couldn’t be a true memory. The flat, triangular head, the folded wings, and leathery scales belonged to something out of myth and legend—a dragon. But dragons weren’t real. They were nothing more than a work of fiction.

  But the book had been in this place with these men, otherwise she wouldn’t be seeing it.

  Her gift never lied.

  One of the men lifted his arms and began to chant again. The large sword he held gleamed in the torchlight. He brought the thick blade down and sliced into the dragon’s flesh. The creature jerked back at the last second, and the sword hit the thick armor-like skin and not the more vulnerable neck.

  The man yelled instructions to his cohorts. They grabbed the chains and began to pull on them, yanking the dragon lower until he was helpless to stop them. Why didn’t he breathe fire on them? Why didn’t he fight?

  As though he’d heard her thoughts, the dragon turned his head and stared at her. “I am weak. I have been captive for many years.” The voice in her head startled her. It couldn’t be real, yet she’d heard it all the same.

  The man with the sword managed to drive the blade into the dragon’s neck. Sarah gasped, and tears filled her eyes as blood poured from the wound. The leader of the group thrust a large silver bowl beneath the flow.

  “I am a drakon, not a dragon,” the voice calmly told her. “I need fire. Help me.”

  Sarah didn’t hesitate. She knew exactly what the creature needed. It didn’t matter that this was nothing more than a glimpse of a memory from the past. She needed to help the dragon. No, he’d called himself a drakon.

  Empathy for the creature welled up inside her, and she rushed to one of the torches, pulled it from its metal holder, and tossed it toward the drakon. The beast opened his mouth and caught the torch, swallowing it whole.

  The men cried out and scattered, trying to get out of the way. The fire seemed to build inside the drakon, consuming him from the inside out. It burst through his skin, burning him alive.

  Sarah slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming aloud. What had she done? The beast looked at her and smiled. Then his entire body exploded like a nuclear bomb.

  She was jerked back to reality, but not before the hood of the robed leader fell back. His eyes burned into her as he looked in her direction.

  Sarah dropped the book and scuttled away. It lay on the floor looking totally harmless, but she knew better. What had just happened had shaken her to her very core. The man who’d glared at her, who’d seemed to see her at the last second, was Mr. Temple. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

  Was the scene she’d viewed more recent than she’d thought? It had seemed much older.

  She was totally confused. What she did know for sure was that the men who owned and used this book were evil. She didn’t believe the creature was real. Maybe her own beliefs and fantasies were playing a part in what she’d seen. She ignored the fact that nothing like that had ever happened before.

  Because if what she’d seen was real, dragons existed. And that was another thing—why would the creature call itself a drakon if he were conjured from her own subconscious mind? She’d never even heard the word before.

  But blood had been deliberately spilled in the presence of the book. And Herman Temple and his son were searching for a man named Darius Varkas. For whatever reason, they wanted his blood. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Now that she knew the truth about them, she was as guilty as they were if something happened to Mr. Varkas.

  Sarah pulled her shields back in place, gingerly picked up the book by its edge, and shoved it into her knapsack.

  She leaned against the bookshelf and took several minutes to compose herself. There was no way she was going to work on Monday. That gave her the weekend to find Darius Varkas, warn him, and figure out a way to save herself. Because once Herman Temple discovered what she’d done, he would come looking for her.

  She thumped her head against the shelf and groaned. Yeah, no problem.

  She was totally screwed.

  Chapter Five

  It was surprisingly easy to find Darius Varkas. So easy, in fact, it was almost anticlimactic. She envisioned hours of searching, of using her skills as a researcher to delve into various records to find him. Instead, one quick Google search had netted her pages about the reclusive businessman.

  Not what she’d been expecting. She scrolled down the screen and clicked on an article. “Mining,” she muttered. The man had made a fortune in gold and silver mines around the world. He also owned mines that dealt in rare metals and was fanatical about preserving the environment, even if it meant lower profits. Conveniently enough, his headquarters and home were right here in Manhattan.

  Sarah checked her watch and winced. It was almost midnight. Time for her to head home. Problem was she didn’t want to go home. Now that she knew the truth about her employer, she was totally paranoid. He knew things about her that most people didn’t. The fact that he knew about her gift, and had intentionally sought her out, gave her the creeps.

  What would he do if he knew she’d found this book? She wasn’t even certain it was the book Mr. Temple was looking for, but it was damning all the same.

  Darius Varkas had an unlisted number, but it didn’t take her long to find the building where he lived. She had to speak to him in person. Over the phone it would be too easy for him to ignore her.

  Sarah pushed off the floor, gathered her belongs, and made her way to the front door.

  She hurried down the steps and headed down the sidewalk. It might be late, but this was New York and there were always people out and about.

  First thing she had to do was warn Darius Varkas. Once she’d talked to the man, her conscience would be free and clear whether he
believed her or not. Then she’d have to get out of town. She’d send the book to Mr. Temple by courier and then disappear off the grid for a while. She could do that. All she needed was cash, which she could get tomorrow.

  Feeling better now that she had a plan, Sarah slowed as Darius Varkas’s building came into sight. At the last second, she ducked into a doorway. She wasn’t being smart. If Mr. Temple was interested in the man, he probably had people watching him.

  She wasn’t used to all this cloak-and-dagger stuff. She didn’t like cop shows or spy dramas, so she didn’t even have that dubious knowledge to fall back on.

  She pulled out her phone, went online and searched for the phone number for the apartment building. A place this swanky had a doorman and that meant they probably had a front desk or an office as well. She searched, but all she could find was a number for the property management company. That wouldn’t do her any good until morning.

  Okay, what next?

  The doorman.

  Sarah had passed an all-night diner a block or so ago. She detoured back. It was almost empty except for two other patrons. She went inside and headed for a table at the far end. The waitress strolled up just as Sarah was pulling out her laptop.

  “What will it be?” the waitress asked her. She was young, maybe early twenties, with red-streaked black hair and a bored expression.

  “Coffee.” Sarah needed the hit. “Do you have pie?” She hadn’t eaten this evening and was starving.

  “Apple, lemon meringue, and pecan.”

  “I’ll take a slice of the lemon meringue.”

  The waitress nodded and went to fill Sarah’s order. She set up her laptop, linked into the wifi and began a search. It took some doing but she found several articles about the building and several quotes from a doorman. She prayed he still worked there.

  The waitress returned with coffee and a slice of pie, setting them on the table. “Anything else?”