Dragon's Honor (The Dragon Corps Series Book 1)

by Michaela Kendrick

  “I can tell you all of it,” Talon said softly. “There’s more here than you could imagine, Williams. But I need your word that you’re with me.”

  Yes. The word was in his mouth. How could he stand back now, when God knew how many millions hung in the balance? Countless deaths to be averted. Cade and Talon could take the man down together, a quick operation, indisputably good—

  This could not be real. There was no way it could be real.

  And if he went in now, Cade would be back where he’d started. He would become the man he had spent two years outrunning.

  “No.”

  “Williams—”

  “You know I’m the wrong one to ask.”

  “But you’re not.” There was fury in Talon’s voice.

  “I said no.”

  “You don’t understand how bad this guy is.”

  “I understand how the world works!” Cade rounded on him. “There’s always another bad guy, another person too deranged to be taken down by the law and there we go, shooting our way in. And you want me to say it’s all right, don’t you? You want me to believe you that this could possibly be real and go in there with God knows what kind of force—”

  “Williams, listen to me.”

  “No! When we do that, innocents die. Things go wrong. Can you promise me that no one’s going to get hurt here who shouldn’t?”

  Talon looked away, and that was answer enough.

  “Rift…”

  “Don’t say it.” He did not look back. “It’s my mission. You had every right to get out.”

  “Your intel—”

  “Is correct.” Talon bit off the words. “It is correct, Williams. I wouldn’t joke about this. Not this.” He looked down at the ground.

  “I don’t think you’re joking.” I think you’ve spent so long in the shadows that you’d believe anything of anyone. “But, Talon, everyone? It can’t be done. They would fight back they would…” His voice trailed off. Talon’s eyes were haunted.

  “It can be done,” Talon said quietly. “He doesn’t have the weapon yet, but he will. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “It’s not—”

  “You don’t have to say anything. It’s my mission.”

  “Right.” But it didn’t feel right. Cade looked back at the mirror. Talon kept staring at the far wall.

  Then: “…Did you say this woman’s husband is an arms trafficker?”

  “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

  “I’m out.” Everything about this was turning into a nightmare, Talon’s words draping even this in a strange clarity. He had to get out.

  He went to step off the podium and found his way blocked by Talon.

  “No! No. Listen to me. There haven’t been any attempts on her life—or his, actually. In fact…” A faint frown crossed Talon’s face. “I’m not entirely sure why he wants a bodyguard. But he does.”

  “A big deal is going to put her at risk?” Cade guessed.

  “Unlikely,” Talon said, after appearing to consider it. He met Cade’s eyes again. “To all accounts, he’s head over heels for this woman—and keeping the shadier dealings to a minimum. And she’s not out running through the bad parts of town, she just stays in the penthouse and goes to charity dinners.”

  “I’m going to be bored out of my mind,” Cade informed him.

  “You know what’s also boring? Freezing to death.” Talon’s mouth twitched in his customary humor. Whatever had happened before, whatever he believed about Ymir, it had sunk beneath the surface without a trace, and Cade knew he would never hear another word about it.

  He wished that didn’t make quite such a twist of guilt in his gut. It wasn’t real, he told himself. And so he tried to return Talon’s humor.

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “No. Williams, I let you walk out because it was the right thing to do. I’m not going to let you starve now.”

  What it was, Cade couldn’t say. Was it a flicker in the man’s eyes? The way he held his shoulders? Whatever it was, he didn’t doubt his instincts for a second. He might not have Talon’s talents for subterfuge, but even a Dragon couldn’t fool another dragon.

  “There’s more to this.”

  “Yes,” Talon admitted, after a pause.

  “What is it?” Cade bit off the words.

  There was a pause.

  “Take it or leave it,” Talon said finally.

  It took all of Cade’s self-control not to put his fist through the mirrors.

  “I have spent too long staying away from all of this—”

  “Take it or leave it, Williams.” And when Cade said nothing, Talon’s voice dropped. “You know it’s not supposed to end for you in some slum on New Arizona, freezing to death at 26. So help me God, if you won’t take this job, I will have you carted out of here and locked in a hotel room until I can come back to see if you’re more compliant.”

  Which would be charity. And Talon knew he did not take charity.

  Goddammit.

  “Fine. I’ll meet with the arms trafficker.” Cade put as much acid as he could into the words. “And I will decide whether or not to take the job.”

  “Just tell the taxi driver whether or not to go to the hotel on the way back, it’ll be easier that way.” Talon, when the mood took him, had a deadpan to put all others to shame. “Now go get a cab.”

  “My hems aren’t done.”

  “They’re pinned, it’s good enough. Go.”

  Cade grimaced as he folded into the little car outside. He could do space missions without a flicker, but something about cars flying around in a gravity well just seemed wrong to him. He clutched at his hand rest as the car took off, entering the ferry lane to climb up the side of the Diamond Tower. Even the interior of the ferry lane had been kept polished.

  These people had too much money.

  Deposited at the correct penthouse, Cade strode to the door and was greeted without a flicker.

  “Mr. Williams, Mr. Pallas will meet you in the room on the left.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cade made his way into the room. For a moment, he noticed none of the finery: his eyes swept to the corners, up to the ceilings, noted the shadows and the alcoves—anything and anywhere there might be a weapon or an assailant. When his eyes at last came to rest on the textures and colors of the room, he barely suppressed a whistle. Someone had gotten marble—actual marble for the floors and Vorekan sapphires for the chandeliers, glittering their strange blue-green. Wall sconces lit the room softly with golden light, and in the corner…

  Her. He knew instantly who it was. She was turned away, watching the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows, clad in a blue gown set off perfectly by the chandelier. From the elegantly piled hair to the diamond necklace, there was no doubt in Cade’s mind that this was the trophy wife, the admirably ambitious young woman Talon had described.

  She was also sad. In the faint curve of her shoulders, the downward tilt of her head, Cade saw someone who was completely, utterly alone—someone terrified, sliding into the same silent oblivion he felt as the world passed him by without a flicker of recognition. Unexpectedly, he felt a deep swell of sympathy.

  “Aryn Beranek?” he asked.

  She turned, and the illusion hung for a moment. A pale oval of a face, jaw slightly too sharp, her full lips pale, a nose with the slightest tip-tilt to the end of it. Auburn hair framed her face and blue-grey eyes were set deep below brows with a sharp peak to them. Everything about her was just the tiniest bit wrong for her station: face too angular, mouth too wide, brows too full, nose not quite straight. She looked lost, a woman who had wandered into a fairytale and had no idea what to do with the jewels and the silk, and he could see nothing but the plea in her eyes, beyond words.

  The transformation began slowly, her shoulders dropping back, neck lengthening, chin rising fractionally. Her chest swelled with a deep breath, small breasts pressing against the décolletage of her blue gow
n, a smile beginning on her lips.

  Desire hit him like a blow. In that moment, she was perfect, a woman of warmth and love and honor, above all, honor—how he knew, he could not say. She was a woman with no ability to lie, or cheat, or steal. A woman he wanted to protect against the ravages of a world that knew all too well how to destroy people like that. He wanted to feel her nestle her head against his shoulder, he wanted her in his arms—

  And then the smile came to her mouth, and the illusion shattered. It was a perfect curve of those beautiful lips, set off by a coquettish tilt of her shoulders, and it was entirely false. It did not for a moment touch her eyes, and Cade fought the urge to walk away, out of that house, and never look back. A false woman, pretending at innocence and sadness.

  Aryn Beranek was everything he had feared.

  Chapter 4

  “Aryn Beranek?”

  Aryn froze. She had thought she was alone. Dinner came and went, and she had not had the courage to ask Ellian when he would speak to the Warlord about Ymir. She told herself that she should have courage, but part of her knew the answer—I must choose my time, my darling—and she knew that her face would betray her impatience, and that would displease Ellian. Before the meal was half over, she wanted to scream at the monotony of it: to know what she would say, and what he would say, and around and around through the years until her beauty faded and he lost interest in her. And why, instead of fear, did she feel a stab of anticipation whenever she thought of that?

  She fled long before she should have. Let Ellian think she was sulking because of the bodyguard. Perhaps she was. She did not want someone entering rooms silently. Watching her. Reporting back to Ellian. He would hire a guard far more loyal to him than to her, she knew that.

  When had she become so cynical? When she looked out at the city, she could imagine, just for a few minutes, that she was the woman who had come here two years ago from Ymir: hopeful, and trying desperately to be in love. She could imagine that this was indeed a city of limitless possibility.

  The sound of her name jerked her back to reality. The voice was smooth as velvet and yet fiery, burning across her skin like whiskey, sliding down her spine so that she shivered. She savored it, feeling it like a caress and biting her lip. Who was this man? She turned her head slowly, not wanting to shatter the illusion, and tried not to let her mouth drop open.

  Her first thought was that he could not possibly be real—but if any man in the world could match that voice, this was him. Tall and elegant in his suit, he was well muscled, standing confidently. A faint lightening of the skin showed that he’d just shaved off a beard, and she found herself wondering what he would look like with it. His brows were heavy, his green eyes almond-shaped. A dimple in his chin gave his face softness it desperately needed. There was something sad in his eyes and she felt her lips part, felt a smile begin. This man, she could trust. She knew it instinctively.

  And then she remembered where she was. She remembered who she was. This would be one of Ellian’s business associates, a man who would be only too pleased to take any sign of weakness, play her against Ellian—awaken the man’s vengeful instincts with no care for what would happen to Aryn. This man was a liar, just like all the other smiling, well-dressed men she had met in this city. He was looking for an advantage over her husband, and he was hoping to prey on the lonely wife.

  Her smile was her armor. She raised her chin and let her mouth curve. Her eyes were cold—a warning. She would not be an ally of his, the smile said. She would be charming and gracious and beautiful, as any society wife should be, but she would not be his pawn.

  It would be easier to mean that, however, if she didn’t keep remembering the honeyed slide of that voice over her skin. Why was she wondering whether his hands might be able to stir the same deep heat within her? Aryn did not respond like this to male beauty. She certainly did not wonder what it might feel like to have lips trailing down over her throat—

  “Aryn?” Ellian’s voice. She hadn’t heard him come into the room. She had been so fixated on this strange new man that she had not even noticed the movement behind him. Now her husband was staring at her, his eyes taking in her flushed cheeks and the pulse beating wildly at her throat.

  “My love,” she said reflexively. She did not spare a single glance for the man as she went to her husband’s side. Her eyes were fixed on him, a different smile on her face now. Let this man see the difference—and mark it. She knew better than to play Ellian false.

  “I see you two have met.” Ellian’s voice was expressionless.

  “I’m afraid not,” She looked over at him, then at the newcomer. “Do you do business with my husband, Mister…”

  “Williams.” That velvety voice was suddenly flat. She could hear dislike, an icy warning. “And no.”

  Ellian looked between them.

  “My dear, this is Cade Williams. He’s the bodyguard I mentioned to you.”

  The bodyguard? The bodyguard. Aryn felt her eyes widen.

  “Oh?” she managed. It was the only thing she could think of to say. This was the man who was going to be at her side day in and day out—and the thought of his quiet presence nearby, when she swore she could feel the heat of him in the air, made her tremble.

  “Mr. Williams, you come highly recommended.” Ellian’s voice was smooth, his eyes ever so slightly narrowed as he looked at the bodyguard.

  The man’s eyes lingered too long on Aryn before he responded, his lip slightly curled. When he looked over at Ellian, however, his face was blank.

  “Talon Rift is an old friend.” Again that voice. Even when he tried to strip it of emotion, it made Aryn shiver. “I hope he has not oversold my abilities.”

  “In my experience, a man who wishes to oversell uses flashy words. Mr. Rift used none.” Ellian almost looked as if he was sizing the man up. “He used one word repeatedly, however. ‘Best.’ Apparently, Mr. Williams, your skills are unmatched. Tell me, where have you served?”

  “Various places. The Verait System.” The man might be staring at Ellian, but Aryn was suddenly sure that he was studying her instead, his eyes tracking her movements. She kept her smile fixed on her face and looked over into Ellian’s face in the way she’d practiced in the mirror. The adoring wife. Part of the story Ellian loved so much.

  “That would have been your training camp, yes?” Ellian did not like this man, that much was apparent—to Aryn, at least. “Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Williams. I am not unfamiliar with the Dragons. Indeed, I am pleased to have you here. One could hardly do better for a bodyguard than one of the Alliance’s most elite soldiers.”

  A Dragon. Aryn’s blood froze. She wanted to jerk her arm out of Ellian’s and run, but those damned instincts kept her rooted in place, smiling even as her world turned on its head. She could not have a Dragon around her. No. Not after Ymir. Everyone knew the Warlord had Dragons working for him, and this man would see her past at once. He would tell his friends, and they would go to the Warlord and her parents would be on the street or worse—

  She forced herself to breathe. She ran through everything she might say to Ellian and knew that none of it would persuade him. He knew the facts as well as she did, surely. If he had decided he liked this man, then it would not matter at all that the Dragons had been corrupted and lent their service not to the Alliance, but to the man who openly defied its justice. Ellian, not Aryn, would choose her bodyguard. One could hardly do better…

  Still, she noted with a surge of hope that this man did not look pleased by Ellian’s assessment.

  “And did Talon tell you that I haven’t served with the Corps in two years?” The man’s brows raised fractionally.

  “Really? He did not, as it happens, mention that.” Ellian pondered him, gaze traveling over the soldier’s face, and seemed to come to some decision. “Mr. Williams, please come with me. There are things we should…discuss.” His gaze fell on Aryn.

  She shivered, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and uncurled her ar
m from his. She tried to keep her face flat. He was displeased, and that was good. If Ellian also did not like this man…

  “Mr. Williams.” She gave a nod, her eyes fixed on the floor. She could not afford to have desire show in her face when she looked at him.

  Ellian led the way and the bodyguard followed—only to linger in the doorway. His presence called to her until she could not help but look up at him. His eyes were traveling over her as if she were some puzzle he might figure out. When she opened her mouth to speak, she did not know what she would say. What was there to say when she could not look at him without imagining—

  She closed her mouth and turned away.

  No. Ellian disliked this man, and so he would soon be gone. And that, as far as Aryn was concerned, was a very good thing.

  Chapter 5

  He hated her. He could hardly see straight, he hated her so much. As Cade turned away to follow Ellian Pallas, all he could feel for the man was pity—and all he could feel for Aryn Beranek was contempt. Those fake adoring smiles were pathetic, and the way she had looked at Cade… Servants, clearly, got none of this woman’s false warmth, and it occurred to him that they might even be luckier in that sense than her poor sod of a husband.

  So why couldn’t he stop wondering what it would feel like to pin her up against the wall and kiss her, feel her melt under his mouth, feel her hands against his chest and hear a little moan as he pressed against her? She would moan, he knew it, a breathy, innocent-sounding noise that even now, in his head, made him grit his teeth with frustration. He could imagine all too well how it would feel to move slowly inside her, feel her pleasure growing, hold himself back until she was on the brink—

  He should leave. Three cold showers might be enough. Standing in the snow would be even better, but Talon had promised to imprison him in a hotel, so the showers would have to do. He groaned softly and promised himself he would leave the conversation quickly. His regrets should be enough; this man already seemed to dislike him.