by Amelia Jade
Vanek leaned in, pretending to inspect her skin. “Maybe it’s invisible? I think I read somewhere about lights that show up under certain conditions.”
“Do you mean black light?”
“Yeah! That. Maybe we need that to find it.”
“It’s not there,” she said dryly, settling back into her seat.
Vanek took one last long look at her features, catching the way she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The full, rounded cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of olive under his attention, but nothing further came of it.
The restaurant wasn’t overly far. Both it and Harlow’s hotel were located downtown. If it weren’t for traffic and lights it would have taken them five minutes. Twenty minutes later they angled into the valet parking out front and a restaurant employee came to greet them.
Vanek gave him their information and he nodded briskly.
“Of course, sir. We have one of our best tables reserved for you.”
The dragon-shifter paused, rotating his shoulders to look down on the service employee. The young man, over six-feet himself and no slouch in the gym, was forced to take a step back.
“I was to have the best table tonight,” he rumbled, putting a note of anger into it. “Ensure that it is.”
The young man swallowed, bobbed his head, and quickly dashed ahead to speak to another employee. The other one, an even younger male who was shorter and much skinnier, glanced at Vanek and then seemed to agree with whatever his coworker was saying.
“Right this way, Mr. Vanek.”
“Just Vanek,” he corrected. “This is Harlow.”
It clearly threw the man off that they preferred to be addressed by their first names. He was quick on his feet, Vanek had to give him that, and he recovered well.
“Of course. Vanek, Harlow, let me show you to your table.”
Extending an arm, he allowed Harlow to take it and together the pair entered the restaurant, Moonlight Appetite. The name was odd, but the soft almost blueish lighting, combined with copious white drapery and black flooring with the barest hint of inlaid lighting to show the path, gave the restaurant an outdoor feel reminiscent of sitting outside at midnight.
Everywhere guests sat was pitch black, tables and chairs both. Even the napkins were black, to focus the attention toward those also seated at the table and upward to the sky, where patterns of stars twinkled gently across the ceiling. The major constellations were outlined with little strands of white wire linking the lights. As they were seated Vanek noticed the outside of the menu mimicked the sky above. The names of the constellations were listed beside them, allowing guests to locate the various constellations while they waited for their food.
“Vanek, this is amazing,” Harlow said, her eyes pulled upward almost from the start.
“I…agree,” he said, suitably awed by the impression created. “It’s beautiful. It’s never this bright unless you fly up above the clouds.”
Something in his voice must have caught her attention, because she looked over—and up—at him as they were guided to their table. It was located in the middle of what appeared to be an island, a little river of water burbling around them slowly. It provided a pleasant mix of ambient noise when combined with the night sounds being played throughout the restaurant. It also gave them privacy from the other guests, as no other tables were within at least ten feet of them.
“I hope this is satisfactory, sir.”
Vanek looked at their host. “Absolutely. Thank you.” He dipped a hand into his pocket, grabbing one of the bills there, and discreetly slid it into the man’s hand. “I appreciate you fixing the mixup.”
The host nodded his head in thanks and departed, letting them know their server would be over shortly.
They seated themselves and ordered drinks.
“So, why dinner?”
He peered over the top of his menu at the unexpected question.
“Why not? What do you mean? I wanted to take you out to dinner.”
“You’re just doing this because you feel guilty.” Harlow’s eyes refused to hold his gaze. “Right?”
Vanek shook his head. “No. If I felt guilty I would have simply apologized. What happened was an accident, and while I feel bad, I’m not required to do anything further.”
Her expression clouded over.
“But that’s not who I am,” he continued. “I asked you to dinner because I wanted to talk to you some more. To get to know you.”
Harlow seemed ready to press him more on why, but he was saved from figuring out an answer to that by the arrival of their drinks.
“So what do you want to know about me then?”
Vanek could tell she still didn’t believe he actually wanted to take her to dinner, or that he was truly interested in her, but he decided that would change with time. For now he would have to show her, until his actions proved his intentions.
“Well, who are you? What do you do, besides parades?”
“Ah, the big questions. Well, my name is Harlow Quinn Ryder. I own HQR Parade Floats. We had six floats, touring the country wherever we get hired. Now though, we’re down to five.”
Vanek forced his face to remain blank as he asked his next question. “Touring the country? So does that mean you’re leaving?”
She shook her head, taking a sip of the red wine she’d ordered. “Not yet. Although the city decided they weren’t paying me a good chunk of the money they owe me, they did decide to have a light heart. They are letting me rent the warehouse from them for the next two weeks while I try to figure out what to do with the busted float. It was only supposed to be five days after the parade while everything was cleaned up, but I think guilt finally got the better of them.”
Vanek smiled. It had to be fate. She was to be here for several days past his deadline with Mara. If that wasn’t a sign that it was meant to work out between him and Harlow, then he wasn’t sure what was. Now all he had to do was convince her in the next twelve days that she was his mate.
“We’ll figure out how to fix this situation,” he assured her.
Harlow looked away. “I’m not sure it is fixable. Six floats is usually the absolute minimum. Five just won’t work. I’m screwed without that last one. I’ll probably have to sell the company.”
Vanek leaned forward over the menu, letting his imposing size grab her attention.
“That’s not going to happen, Harlow. I promise you.”
She stared at him for a handful of heartbeats. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“My word is good,” he assured her. “You’ll get your float.”
Harlow didn’t move for a moment, her crystal-blue eyes locked on to his, unwavering. He gazed right back, trying to see into the depths of her soul, but was blocked by the defenses she had in place. The same couldn’t be true of him, however. His soul was open to her and he invited her to look deep into it. He wasn’t perfect—he’d made his mistakes, some of which he was still paying for now.
But he was honest with her, and meant what he said. She was going to get that float, and her business was going to prosper.
No matter what he had to do.
Chapter Four
Vanek
He burst into the apartment with a swirl of excitement. The normally exquisite view displayed right after exiting the elevator was ignored as he raced around the corner and up the stairs to the second level of his penthouse.
“It’s her!” he announced with a flourish.
“What’s her?”
“Her? Who?”
“What the hell are you wearing?”
Vanek turned on Kallore, who had asked the final question. “It’s called a suit, you uneducated swine. Try having some class. I’m sure Elin would appreciate you looking like you didn’t just walk out of a pig sty every now and then.”
The ash-blond shifter’s mouth fell open, while nearby Corde howled with laughter from his seat on a couch. “Oh that’s rich, considering how earlier you were comp
laining about how ridiculous you looked!”
“That was before my mate complimented me on how I looked,” he retorted, purposefully not looking at Corde.
All the friends were gathered in the penthouse, even Elin Mara, who had journeyed from Fort Stark. It was the two-month anniversary of Kallore’s awakening, and they were having a celebratory evening.
“Your mate?” Kylie asked from where she sat on the armrest next to Corde. “You found her?”
“I did!” he said, pumping his fist with joy. “It was a complete accident of course, but yes, I ran into her two days ago.”
“Two days?” Corde asked. “You didn’t tell me, even though we live together, for two days?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to make sure it was her, okay. We went to dinner tonight. I, um, had to make it up to her for something.”
Though he’d tried to slip that little fact by everyone, nobody was willing to let it go. Everyone clamored to know “how badly he’d fucked up” and they weren’t willing to let it pass.
“Okay, but let me preface this by saying—”
“Let me guess,” Kallore drawled. “It wasn’t my fault!” He mocked Vanek in a higher-pitched voice, drawing more laughter from the assembled crowd.
“It wasn’t!” he protested, looking around for support as everyone held their stomachs, trying not to spill their drinks as they chuckled. “If anything, it was his!” he said, stabbing a finger.
“Me?” Corde yelped. “How is it my fault? I don’t even know who this is!”
“No, but you gave me terrible advice.”
The other dragon shifter frowned, his graphite-gray eyes becoming unfocused for a moment as he thought over their most recent conversations. Then bushy eyebrows shot up as he remembered. “You went out and screwed up on purpose, and you’re blaming me for that? You gave me that advice first, you ass!”
More laughter ensued from all sides. “Yeah, but you acted like it worked!”
“It did work!” Corde’s hand reached around Kylie’s waist, tugging the champagne beauty in closer to him. “Look. She loves me.”
“Most days,” she commented, drawing a false look of pain from Corde. Then she looked at Vanek. “Still, he fucked up by accident, sort of. More so he pushed the boundaries on an already established relationship, making the first move. Which is good, because I never would have. He didn’t go out and purposefully screw up! Tell me that’s not what you did?”
Vanek looked around for help from anywhere, but everyone was just laughing or waiting for his answer. He hung his head in shame. “That’s exactly what I did.”
The spacious penthouse suite was filled with peals of laughter once more.
“Okay, okay,” Corde said, waving his arms to calm everyone. “Let’s hear just how badly our infallible leader screwed up!”
Vanek’s blood went cold at the comment. He knew that Corde hadn’t meant it that way, but it still stabbed him in the gut with a knife, slicing open old wounds that he hadn’t thou
ght about in a long, long time.
Blinking rapidly, he brought himself back to the present, shoving the memories back into the box in his mind where they belonged. This was a joyous occasion, and he wasn’t going to let a slip of the tongue ruin it for everyone.
“Well,” he started, then coughed as his voice broke. “Well,” he started again, stronger now. “I went outside right after we talked the other day. I was going to go for a walk. And there was a big crowd, and lots of noise, and I was just sort of lost in it all. Then there was a dog, and I tripped and fell into the road.”
Kylie leaned forward intently, and he felt the sudden sinking sensation that she knew where he was going. The look on her face told him it was going to be bad. Very, very bad. Worse than he’d anticipated.
“Oh my God. Of course! It was you!”
Everyone else turned to look at her.
“He’s the guy who fell into the street and got run over by the parade float!”
Four sets of eyes locked on him.
Vanek sagged. “Yeah. It was me.”
Laughter erupted into the room for the umpteenth time. It went on and on, and despite his own embarrassment eventually Vanek was swept up into it, retelling the story about how she’d come at him, not giving him the time of day or anything, this little fireball a few inches over five feet tearing strips off him like he was her own child.
By the end of it the others were in tears, clutching at their sides as they bounced with laughter. Vanek smiled over the room, glad he was able to bring such joy to them all.
“Oh, by the way Elin,” he said lazily, “I’m going to need a large sum of funds.”
Elin’s face sobered immediately, much to his surprise. “For what?”
“I promised her I’d buy her a new float, to replace the one I destroyed. She needs it for her business.”
“I’m sorry, Vanek, but I can’t authorize that,” Colonel Mara said.
Not Elin. Colonel Mara. The sudden change in personality was instant and unmistakable. The set of the shoulders, the tone of command—it all rang out, filling the room with a sudden tension as things went from friendly to formal in a nanosecond.
“What the hell not?” Vanek was confused, angry, and not just a little hurt. Was she purposefully trying to prevent him from winning over his mate? Did she have something against him that he’d been unaware of until now?
Colonel Mara met his gaze without flinching, though that wasn’t to say she looked happy about it. “The Central Defense Command has frozen any large transfers of money to you, especially for frivolous purposes.”
Corde coughed politely. “Does that include the lavish retrofit of the lower levels of this building in preparation for inhabitation by other dragons in the future? This is bullshit, Colonel.”
“I am well aware of the specific excrement makeup of the order, Corde,” Colonel Mara said coldly. “Unfortunately, it is just that, an order. Therefore I must obey it.”
“But why?” Vanek snapped angrily. “Treasure, in this case money—since that’s apparently what is used for transactions these days—was part of the deal.”
Colonel Mara sighed. “I know, Vanek. I made the original deal. But the deal was twofold, and right now you haven’t been living up to your end of it.”
“We said we would fight,” he ground out. “We have been fighting. It’s not our fault that these things are incredibly tough, and when they go to ground like they have recently, they’re impossible to find.”
“I know. I know.” She held up her hand to forestall any more arguments. “But some at the CDC, and possibly even higher, have decided that they would rather spend the funds on more soldiers, more weapons, and more research and development. It’s not a tiny sum that has been given to each of you, and earmarked for the other dragons as well.”
“I wasn’t given anything,” Vanek growled.
“Well, you aren’t mated yet. We’ve waited until after that.”
It was a lame reason and Colonel Mara knew it, he could tell.
“So give that to me now. It will at least partially cover the cost. It’s better than nothing.”
“I can’t do that, Vanek, though I wish I could. They aren’t releasing anything. What you have is what you get until an Outsider is dead. I’m sorry.”
Though she was unyielding, Vanek could tell that Colonel Mara didn’t agree.
“What am I supposed to do now?” he asked, feeling defeated. “What am I to tell Harlow? She’s expecting a new float so that her business can stay…afloat.”
“I don’t know, Vanek.” Colonel Mara stood, arms tight to her sides. “My hands are tied. I need to follow my orders, no matter how much I disagree with them.”
He stood too, his fists clenched tightly to his sides. Kallore eyed him warily, ready to leap to his feet if Vanek should do anything untoward to his mate. Vanek eyed him with a snort. He wasn’t like that, despite his fury.
“This is ridiculous. Just because we haven’t ki
lled one doesn’t mean we haven’t done our part. Where would you be now if Kallore hadn’t risked his life for you at Fork Stark the first time they showed their heads?”
“It’s not my decision, Vanek,” Colonel Mara snapped, obviously upset by his implication, knowing that he was right.
“Vanek,” Corde said at last, getting his attention. “She’s right. She can’t do anything. Look at her, she hates that she’s forced to do this to you. But the decision came from higher.”
He was well aware of that. “Call them again. Tell them the situation and why it’s necessary,” he pleaded. “Fight for me.”
Colonel Mara’s spine straightened. “I was already planning on it. I doubt anything will come of it, but I’m not going to give up, Vanek. I support you in this. We need the dragons.”
Vanek nodded. “Yes, yes you do.”
He turned on his heel and stormed from the room, leaving the apartment to find somewhere appropriate to vent his anger.
How the hell was he going to break this to Harlow?
Chapter Five
Harlow
“How the hell did he manage to wreck this so thoroughly?” she complained to the empty space, pushing her fingers through the mess that was her hair, trying not rip strands from her head in frustration.
The floats were a simple concept: a boxy rectangular engine surrounded by steel beams that were used to support the various designs and decorations that made them what they were. From there, all sorts of various platforms or mounts could be made, such as the one that had been built up to carry the wire-structure of Barton City’s founder. When Harlow had seen the final product—she didn’t build them, she just rented her floats out after all—she’d been amazed. It had been over two stories tall and just fantastic to see.
Now it was a crumpled, ruined wreck of wire, paper decoration, and steel beams. Just like her company and her dreams. All that was left was to tear them apart and pack up her machines until she could find a buyer for them. They were old, rickety, and mostly held together with wishes and duct tape.