Hunter's Desire

by Meg Ripley

  Jason paused in the restroom to make his phone call, then slid the phone back in his pocket, his heart hammering in his ears as he emerged to the corridor. He’d never attempted this level of subterfuge in his life, and it seemed to him that every dragon in the Club must know he was infiltrating the group with the intention of a double-cross. Maybe not. Maybe he won’t reveal anything incriminating. Maybe this will all be over in less than an hour.

  He found Vincent lounging by the pool, a piña colada in hand, dark glasses covering his eyes. He was so still and looked so relaxed, that at first Jason couldn’t be sure he was awake at all.

  “Taking the day off?” Vincent asked by way of greeting.

  Jason settled in the lounge next to him. “I’m taking the time to regroup. There’s been a setback with Adventure Isle.”

  “What setback is that?”

  “You haven’t heard? Neil Simmons was found dead yesterday.”

  Vincent sat up and slowly lifted his glasses. “What happened? Heart attack?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “May he rest in peace. He was a good man. I guess you’re going to need to look for some new leads.”

  “I would have had to search for new leads anyway. Simmons didn’t have any money.”

  “What about Shayne? She’s loaded, right? Maybe she’ll want to do something in memory of the old man.”

  “That’s definitely a possibility. Did you know he didn’t have any money?”

  Vincent shrugged and laid back against the lounge, adjusting his shoulders and settling his hands over his stomach. “His checks to me always cleared. That was the beginning and the end of my concern.” When Jason didn’t respond, Vincent lifted his glasses again and smiled. “Cheer up. This is a blessing in disguise. You’ll see.”

  Mia arrived then with a pitcher of piña coladas. She poured Jason a drink and waited until it was half gone before she said, “Your father would like to see you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” He didn’t want to see Damian but he felt uneasy with Vincent. How would this be a blessing in disguise? Why would he say anybody’s death would be a blessing? Hadn’t Neil been his friend? Or was the man’s money really the beginning and end of his concern?

  Consumed by his thoughts, he forgot to check his phone as he passed through the guarded entrance and up the elaborate staircase. The door opened for him as it always did, and he found his father sitting behind the massive mahogany desk.

  “Did you spend the night in jail?” Right to the point.

  “I wasn’t arrested. Only detained for questioning.”

  “In regards to what?”

  “Neil Simmons was killed last night.”

  “And they thought you had something to do with it?” Damian asked.

  “Not until they found me searching his house.”

  “Why were you at the house?”

  “I had reason to suspect a dragon was involved,” Jason said.

  “Of course there was no dragon involved. Why would you think that?”

  “The man was burned to death. There was a claw mark on his chest. His entire staff was slaughtered. There’s blood everywhere, but I don’t even think they’ve found the bodies yet. Well, not every part of the bodies.”

  “Jason, stay out of it.”

  “Stay out of it?”

  “Yes. Do not get involved. Did you tell the police any of this?”

  “I told them why I was at the house.”

  Rage flashed over Damian’s face, his eyes turning into chips of obsidian. Jason took an involuntary step back, overwhelmed by the primal force he could sense just below the human mask his father wore.

  “You told the police that you thought a dragon was responsible for the murder?”

  “I couldn’t lie—”

  “You shouldn’t have been involved!” Damian roared, slamming his hand down on the desk. He rose and began to pace. “You should not have been involved at all. If you had any suspicions about a dragon you should have come to me. I am the one who holds them in account. Not you. And not the police.”

  “I didn’t plan to speak to the police,” Jason argued. “I must have tripped a silent alarm.”

  “It never occurred to you that the crime scene might be under surveillance, just as it never occurred to you to call me right away. You never think, Jason! That has always been your problem. You never think.”

  Jason blinked, stung more by the venom in Damian’s voice than his words. “I know messed up but—”

  “You have no idea what you’ve done. And all for some human tramp.”

  “Human tramp? What are you...Are you talking about Mary?”

  “Mary. Shayne. Whatever she calls herself.”

  “How do you even know about me and her? And how did you know I was detained last night? Have you been having me followed? Or am I bugged?” When Damian didn’t answer, Jason pressed, “What shady shit are you up to?”

  “I only do what I have to do to protect all of us.”

  “Are you just spying on everyone all the time?”

  “That’s not the discussion we’re having.”

  “It’s the discussion we should be having,” Jason countered.

  “No, that would be what we’re going to do now that you’ve risked exposing us all!”

  “I think we should investigate with the police, figure out who did it, and turn him in.”

  “So, our ruin can be complete? Is that your plan?”

  “No, I’m trying to keep a full-blown investigation away from us! He left a bloodbath, father. This is not going to go away.”

  “Thanks to you,” Damian snapped back. He paused at the phone on his desk and pressed a button. “Douglas, Oliver, get in here.”

  “What are you doing?” Jason asked, the hair rising on the back of his neck.

  “I’m trying to staunch the flow.” The doors swung open and two very large men strolled in. “Before it’s too late. Now hand me your phone.”

  Jason bit back the protest and took it from his pocket. Damian tossed it on his desk without a second glance, not noticing that it was connected to a call. The men took Jason by the arms with bruising grips.

  “What are you going to do? Throw me in the dungeon?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be in a suite.”

  “A gilded cage is still a cage.”

  “Would you prefer the dungeon?” His tone was deceptively casual, and Jason realized he did not want to push his luck.

  “You can’t keep me locked up forever.”

  “I could,” Damian said mildly, “but I won’t. Just until this mess is cleaned up. For your sake, I hope that doesn’t take too long.”

  With that, Damian’s goons pulled him from the room and dragged him down the long corridor. As the door swung closed behind him, he heard Damian summon Vincent from downstairs. He tried to twist away, but their fingers bit into him with the strength of steel, and he had no choice but to allow them to drag him to his gilded cage.

  ****

  Mary didn’t want to sit at home by herself. She didn’t want to think about her father, the funeral, or the investigation. She didn’t want to think about Jason and how much she found herself missing him, even though he apparently shared her father’s favorite delusion. She didn’t want to think about that, either. Since she didn’t want to be by herself, she went to the bar. Everybody was surprised to see her, but they had the good sense to keep their questions to themselves and let her work without protest.

  It didn’t help. It was good to keep her body moving, but it hardly kept her mind distracted. Especially since it was a slow night and she finished all of her side work very early.

  “I can keep an eye on the place if you want to go home,” Donna offered. As the bar’s only full-time waitress, she practically ran the place herself.

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” Mary suggested. “I don’t mind staying.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather
go home?” Donna asked gently.

  “I’m sure. I’ve got some bookwork I wanted to finish tonight.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. She doubted she had the concentration to do any bookkeeping. “Go on home and relax.”

  Donna still seemed hesitant, but she clocked out and gathered up her purse and coat, urging Mary to give her a call if she needed anything at all.

  Once she had the bar to herself, she grabbed a handful of quarters from the tip jar and pumped them into the jukebox. Without realizing it, she selected a dozen of her father’s favorite songs, understanding what she’d done only when the music started. She sighed, resting her head against the cool glass, fresh pain winding around her heart. She didn’t always see eye to eye with her father, but no little girl could have asked for a better dad.

  “Excuse me.”

  Mary jerked upright and spun to face the newcomer. A tall man with sharp good looks that almost seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on how or why.

  “I hate to disturb you, but are you open?”

  “Yes, yes,” Mary said, wiping the corner of her eyes. “Come on in. What can I get you?”

  “A Tom Collins.”

  “One Tom Collins coming up.”

  The man perched on a stool at the bar, his sharp eyes following her as she began making his drink.

  “You just passing through?” Mary asked to break the silence, uncomfortable at the way he stared at her, unblinking.

  “Yes. I’ve been summoned to Albany for a chat with the police.”

  “Oh, I hope it’s a friendly chat,” she said neutrally.

  “It is friendly, if rather unfortunate. A dear friend of mine has reached a violent end.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, handing him the drink; her voice was still even, though her mind was racing with questions. Was he talking about her father? Did he have any knowledge? If so, did he know of the connection between her and Neil Simmons? “My condolences.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you heading up there tonight?” she asked conversationally.

  “Oh, no, I’ll be getting a room. My interview is scheduled at noon, but it’s such a long drive from the city. Do you have any dinner recommendations?”

  Despite feeling uneasy about the man, she pulled a menu from behind the bar and handed it to him. She wanted to know who he was and what he was doing there—and what he knew about her father’s death. “Let me know if anything looks good.”

  He skimmed the modest menu before requesting a double cheeseburger. “Make it bloody,” he added.

  “Coming right up!” She released an uneasy breath as soon as she stepped into the small kitchen and began prepping his burgers, though the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her ears were trained on the room behind her. She couldn’t hear much past the music, though.

  She apparently couldn’t hear enough. Soon after flipping the patties over, a hand came down on her shoulder, startling a small yelp from her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the man said, and up close, she caught a scent of something strange. Something raw, like ground beef that had been left in the fridge for a day too long and gone a little off. “I was just wondering, do you have fresh french fries?”

  “No...uh...they’re frozen.”

  “And the onion rings?”

  “Those are frozen, too, I’m afraid.”

  “Ah, how disappointing.”

  “Look, we don’t allow customers back here. So, if you wouldn’t mind having a seat, I’ll bring this right out.”

  “Of course.” But he made no move to step away, crowding her against the grill in the small kitchen. He reached for her before she could duck away, his fingers skimming through her hair. “You really are a lovely woman, Shayne.”

  “Get away from me,” she said between gritted teeth. “Get the hell out of my bar.”

  “Keep a civil tongue in your head,” he warned. “I want to be your friend, Shayne. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “My friend? I don’t even know who you are.”

  “Oh, forgive me. I’m Vincent Ryder. I was a good friend of your dear, late father’s.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So, we finally meet, Mr. Ryder. You were no friend of his. You’re a goddamn leech.”

  “A leech? Is that how your father described me?”

  “No. For all of my father’s positive qualities, he was a fool. A blind fool.”

  Vincent chuckled, a darkly amused sound that sent a chill down her spine. “I never cheated your father out of any money. He got exactly what he paid for.”

  “He bought lies and fantasies! You sold him dreams until he had nothing left. Go away, Mr. Ryder, you are not welcome here.”

  “It’s such a shame to hear that.” He did sound like he was genuinely disappointed. Mary didn’t have time to process that before he had her by the wrist, his other hand going to the back of her neck. She tried to yank away, but his grip was too strong, and he spun her around, yanking her wrist up between her shoulder blades. She immediately went lax, trying to ease the pressure on her shoulder.

  “What...what are you doing?” she gasped out.

  “I’m going to have to take you with me. I was supposed to leave you, but what’s the fun of that?”

  She let him march her out of the kitchen, but as soon as she had room to maneuver, she tried to slip away again. She nearly had her wrist free when his arm locked around her throat and he began to squeeze. The pain ripping through her shoulder was the only thing that kept her focused.

  “Don’t fight, sweetheart. You don’t want to die here.”

  Mary didn’t want to die at all. She had no doubt that he meant it, but she didn’t think she’d have a better fate if she let him take her to a second location.

  “Put your hands up!” Tandy’s deep voice boomed over the jukebox. “Put your hands up or I will shoot.”

  The pressure eased on her throat and shoulder and she slumped to the ground as Vincent turned to face the homicide detective.

  “This is a misunderstanding.”

  “No, I assure you, I understand perfectly.” Tandy approached and quickly checked Vincent’s pockets for a weapon. “Get on the ground. Face down. Put your hands behind your back.”

  Vincent silently complied, giving the full illusion of cooperating. Tandy secured his wrists before turning his attention to Mary.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, a little sore. How did you know he was here?”

  “Follow me to the station, and I’ll explain everything.”

  He yanked Vincent to his feet and marched him to the door in very much the same way Vincent had marched Mary. She paused to grab her purse and jacket, turn off the lights, and lock the door, but no more than thirty seconds passed before she followed Tandy out—and it only took thirty seconds for all hell to break lose.

  Tandy was screaming and shooting at the sky, firing his weapon again and again. She almost didn’t hear the reports of the weapon under the swishing of a mighty wind. She looked up and saw the most impossible sight she’d ever seen.

  A dragon wheeling higher and higher, blending into the night sky, nothing more than a silhouette against the stars.

  ****

  Mary stared at the phone in front of her, stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief, too stunned to say anything for a solid five minutes. Tandy waited patiently while she processed everything she heard, coupled with what she saw only an hour before.

  “I called him trash,” she said numbly. “I was such a jerk. Where is he now?”

  “Well, we don’t know. We have no idea where his father stashed him and we have no way to reach him.” He sighed. “I should have let him wear a wire, but I never thought he was in any true danger. He certainly didn’t divulge the full scope of what he was facing.”

  “What is he facing?

  “We’ve done a little digging. His father, Damian Cross, owns most of the major real estate in Manhattan. He�
�s retired out of the public eye in the past decade, and literally nobody knows where he is. The fact that he’s still in the city is apparently news to just about everyone.”

  “Jason didn’t tell you where he was going to meet Vincent?”

  “I’m saying, I know where he is. It’s not going to be an easy thing to get to him.”

  “I can’t believe after everything I said to him, he still wanted to help. He was telling me the complete truth and I didn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.” She blinked her eyes at the detective. “I’m glad you did. So now what are we going to do?”

  “Well the way I see it we have three—” Tandy stopped mid-sentence and held up his hand, motioning for her to remain quiet. He took his phone and hit a few buttons on the screen as another man’s voice suddenly filled the room.

  “You’re saying you flew away in front of witnesses? You’re as hopeless as my idiot son.”

  “It was either that or get arrested.” Vincent’s voice came in with the counter argument. “Or shot. He did fire at me several times.”

  “Getting arrested is the very least of your worries.” Mary didn’t recognize the other voice.

  “Jason’s father,” Tandy provided. “Don’t worry, it’s on mute. They can’t hear us. When I realized he never disconnected the call, I thought I’d keep the line open.”

  “Not as long as you keep Jason here. You have the scale, right?” Vincent asked.

  “Yes, we confiscated it. We had everything under control. Why would you get her involved?”

  “She’s already involved. You think Jason didn’t spill his guts to her? You think she’s not going to have a million questions about her father? She’s got money, connections, and time. She could be a real problem for us.”

  “Well, she will be now that you’ve attacked her. If you wanted her gone, you should have just taken care of the job.”

  “Jason got a piece of her. I just wanted a taste.” Mary shuddered, disgusted anew by the man she’d already found so detestable.

  “No. There’s no time for that crap. We’ve got to take out both the girl and the detective and make sure Jason doesn’t talk.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to do that, sir.”