Drakon's Past

by N. J. Walters

  “I can be there in a matter of hours.”

  “No. There’s no need. I don’t want you or Valeriya here.”

  “Is there any danger? I thought you trusted this Oscar guy?”

  Nic began to gather the rubies, plucking them out of the dirt and stuffing them into his jeans’ pockets. “I trust him, for now. I think he’s legit.”

  “You said that earlier but didn’t say why?”

  When his front pockets were stuffed full, he pushed to his feet and made his way to his front stoop and sat. “He knew the language of my mother.”

  “He what? How could he have known that?”

  “I don’t think he realized the significance of it at first. He was reciting something in the language of the woman who founded the Dragon Guard.”

  “Fuck,” Tarrant muttered.

  Nic gave a rueful laugh. “Yeah, that about covers it. Seems my mother told me to go to the village’s summer hunting grounds. I figured she said it as a sop to her conscience, knowing I might at least have a chance to survive.” Back in those days, he’d been little more than a child, a young man who’d had no idea exactly what he was or what that meant.

  “But that’s not what happened?” Tarrant’s voice was gentler than Nic had ever heard it.

  “No. Apparently, she meant for me to stay there. She gathered supplies and came to find me, but I’d already left.” In anger and defiance, he’d set out into the desert alone, determined to die alone rather than stay near a mother who didn’t want him.

  “I am so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” But an old hurt, one he’d carried around for so long he’d become accustomed to the burden, slowly began to dissolve. “She loved me.” There was wonder in his voice, and it echoed in his heart.

  “If she’s responsible for starting the Dragon Guard, then there’s no doubt she did.”

  “Oscar had a ruby, one that had been passed down from the founder to members of his line. My mother married and had another son. She gave him the ruby and the responsibility to protect all drakons.”

  Complete stunned silence from Tarrant.

  “It was mine. I’d shed some tears before I set out into the desert. I thought I’d gathered them all and taken them with me, but I obviously missed one.”

  “Wait, are you telling me that Oscar Denning is related to you?”

  “According to him, his line is the one that comes down from my mother’s side. He is of my blood.” That was still enough to knock him flat. If it was true, then Oscar was family.

  “I’ll start researching,” Tarrant promised. He paused and then asked the question Nic had been dreading. “What about Constance?”

  “I let her go.”

  “You what?” Tarrant shouted. Nic had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Was she not the one for you? I thought she was?”

  Nic swallowed heavily. He couldn’t afford to shed any more tears. His pockets were already overflowing. “She was, but I was too afraid to keep her.”

  “Better to have your heart even for a day than to live without it for eternity.”

  Nic could only stare at the phone, his brother’s wise words sinking into every cell of his body and resonating with a truth that couldn’t be denied. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right,” he shot back, making Nic laugh. That was the Tarrant he knew, the sharp wit and tongue. “Be sure to remind Valeriya of that next time you see her. I’m always right.”

  “Don’t give him ideas,” a feminine voice said in the background.

  In spite of his emotional upheaval, Nic couldn’t help but smile. “It’s too late. Tarrant always has ideas.”

  “All good.” There was a rustling of clothing. “And you love them.” There was a feminine gasp and then a groan. Nic knew Tarrant was kissing her.

  “I’ve got to go,” Nic told him. Obviously, his brother was getting ideas of an amorous sort.

  “I can be there in a few hours if you need me,” Tarrant reminded him again.

  His love for his family swelled in his chest. “I know. Keep working on the Dragon Guard and tracing Oscar’s past.”

  “What will you be doing?” his brother demanded.

  “I’m going to close up the house. I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s safe anymore. Then I’m going to take a trip to Vegas. Call Darius and Ezra for me, will you?” He was emotionally wrung out and wanted food and sleep.

  He’d sent Constance away. That meant he had to do something special to win her back.

  …

  “He does care about you.”

  Neither of them had spoken for most of the trip. The city was within sight, but it looked as though the reprieve of silence was over. She glanced at Oscar to find him watching her. “I’m sure he does.” She went back to keeping an eye on the road and the signs. “Where do you want me to drop you?”

  “Anywhere on the Strip. I need to go back to the hotel, get the remaining statue, and then head to New York.”

  Constance was suddenly very tired. All the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, leaving her physically exhausted and her heart weary. She focused on the familiar street signs and made her way toward the glittering lights of the infamous Las Vegas Strip.

  “Here is fine.” Oscar indicated a spot just down from Caesars Palace, so she pulled over. She kept both hands on the wheel. All she wanted was to go home.

  Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “I found this in the pocket of one of the men.”

  He didn’t need to add that the man had been dead at the time. That was something she would never forget, no matter that it had been a fight of life and death, the images would always be with her.

  Something glittered in his hand. “That’s Grandpa’s wedding ring.” It had been missing from the safe.

  “They weren’t supposed to take anything but the statues, but some guys can’t resist.” He held it out, and she took it. “I’m sorry about what happened. I want to let you know I would have saved your sister.”

  “She was still hurt.” And for that she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive or trust Oscar. “And Mario was killed.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry as hell about that. Dent had that done when I was taking care of something else.”

  She nodded. There was nothing else to say.

  “I’d say it was for the greater good, but I know you don’t give a shit right now.”

  “I really don’t,” she agreed.

  “Yeah, some days I don’t, either.” He opened the door and climbed out. “Listen, Nic really does care about you. I saw how he looked at you.”

  “Bye.” When she said nothing else, he closed the door. She huffed out a breath and turned to call out to him, but there was no sign of him. He’d already melted into the crowd. Probably just as well. What else was there to say?

  She pulled away from the hotel and started toward home. Her heart ached and she wanted to crawl into bed, have a good cry, and sleep for about twenty-four hours straight. But that wasn’t going to happen quite yet. She had to collect her sister, and she owed Mrs. Karsh some kind of explanation.

  Her eyes welled up when she turned onto the familiar street. By the time she parked in the driveway, she could barely see past the tears.

  The front door to Mrs. Karsh’s home burst open, and Abigail ran toward her. Constance jumped out of the van and met her sister. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on tightly.

  “Best you girls go inside before the neighbors take too much notice.” Mrs. Karsh’s voice penetrated their emotional reunion.

  “You’re right.” Constance tried to swipe away the tears, but now that she’d let go, she couldn’t seem to stop. “About what happened…”

  “Later.” She patted both their arms. “Go on now.” She went around to the van, gathered Constance’s bag, and handed it to her before shutting the driver’s door. “We’ll talk later. All I care is that you’re both safe.” She paused. “You are s
afe, aren’t you?” She patted the front pocket of her sweater, and Constance noticed the outline of a gun.

  “Yes. We’re both safe now.”

  “Good. I’ll expect you when you’re feeling better.”

  “Thank you.” There was no way she could ever repay what Mrs. Karsh had done for them.

  She waved away Constance’s thanks. “You two are like daughters to me.” Abigail gave the older woman a hug. “Go on now.” She shooed them both toward the house.

  When they walked inside, the house felt different. It was no longer the safe haven it had always been. It felt empty. Violated.

  “Are you okay?” Abigail asked. “Are we safe?”

  “We’re safe.” That was as much as her sister needed to know. She wouldn’t betray Nic or his secrets, not to anyone. Her sister had seen the dragon. Whether or not she believed it was real or decided it was a figment of her imagination brought on by stress, or attributed it to something her captors had done to her, only time would tell.

  Abigail pushed a strand of Constance’s hair back over her shoulder. “But you’re not okay?”

  Constance shook her head. “I’m going to get a shower and some sleep.” She ignored the tears that trickled down her face in an endless stream of sorrow. She noted that neither Abigail nor Mrs. Karsh had commented on the fact she was wearing what was obviously a man’s shirt instead of her own top and sweater.

  Abigail bit her bottom lip. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “I know. Do you need to talk?” She was being selfish, ignoring everything her sister had been through. She lifted Abigail’s hand and stared at her bandaged fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, you rescued me. You don’t ever have to be sorry. This wasn’t your fault.”

  She wanted to believe Abigail, she really did. But if she’d never followed her talent for finding interesting treasures, she never would have found those statues, and none of this would have happened.

  Then she never would have met Nic.

  Right now, she wasn’t sure if that would have been a good thing or a bad thing. But there was no changing the past.

  Abigail wrapped her arm around Constance’s waist and guided her toward the bedroom. “You shower and rest. I’m going to start cleaning up the workroom.”

  “I’ll help.” She couldn’t let her sister face that mess on her own.

  “Constance, for once let me take care of you.”

  She knew her sister was right. It was time to stop babying her. Abigail was a confident, amazing young woman with a bright future ahead of her.

  She thought about her own future and wasn’t nearly as confident. She foresaw long years alone. Abigail would go off and live her dreams. She’d make certain of that. But Constance knew she’d never love another man as she did Nic. And even the thrill of buying and selling had lost its luster. Mario was dead. Nic was gone.

  She dragged herself into her bedroom and fell facedown on the bed. She’d shower later. Now, she just wanted to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It had been a week since she’d last seen Nic, and life was slowly settling back to normal, but nothing was like it had been. Her life was like a shoe that no longer fit properly and it rubbed each time she walked.

  She set her cup of coffee down on the kitchen table and stared out the window into their small backyard.

  Abigail had bounced back after her ordeal and was healing, but Constance had noticed the occasional shadow in her sister’s eyes when she thought no one was watching. They needed to talk about the future and soon.

  Mrs. Karsh had accepted the explanation that Abigail had been abducted over an artifact but that the threat was now over. She hadn’t asked any further questions, nor did she ask why Constance hadn’t gone to the police. For that, Constance was grateful.

  The hardest part of the week had been going to Mario’s funeral. It had been an even bigger shock to discover he’d left everything he’d owned to her and Abigail.

  Abigail strolled into the kitchen and stopped by the refrigerator long enough to get a bottle of water before joining Constance at the table. “What are we going to do about Mario’s estate?”

  “We’ll sell.” Constance didn’t want a storefront. “Unless you want it?” She had to stop assuming things about her sister and start asking more.

  She shook her head. “No. That’s the last thing I want.”

  “What do you want?” she asked her younger sister. “Honestly.”

  “Honestly?” Abigail set the bottle on the table and moved it back and forth between her fingers. She glanced at Constance and then released a pent-up breath. “I want to go to Europe.”

  Okay, she hadn’t seen that one coming. “Why?” She needed to understand what was going on inside her sister’s mind.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love my life here, but I want to do more. I want to travel Europe. I want to blog about my travels, maybe sell some pictures.” She shot Constance a smile. “I want to scour their markets for vintage fabric.”

  She smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy.”

  Constance smiled, the first one in days. “No. But so what if it is crazy? You’re young. You’re supposed to be doing crazy stuff.”

  “But if I go, you’ll be alone.”

  “Stop right there.” She was putting an end to this before it started. “I’m a grown woman, Abigail. I’ll be fine.” There was a lot to handle. The thought of doing it alone was daunting, but she could manage it.

  “I’ll stay and help you with everything,” Abigail promised.

  “No.” Her sister needed to go, to take the first steps toward healing. “You’re going to book your ticket, and you’re going to go to Europe.”

  “I need to figure out the money first.” That was Abigail, ever the realist. “It could be months before the store sells.”

  On this, she could put her sister’s mind at ease. “Mario had money, too.” She laughed when Abigail’s jaw dropped.

  “But he was always so cheap, not spending a dime. I always figured he was barely getting by.”

  “I guess he had money because he lived so frugally. I wish he’d spent more of it on himself.” But there was no going back, only forward.

  “And it’s enough for me to go to Europe for a few weeks?” The hopefulness in Abigail’s voice made Constance’s heart ache.

  “Yeah, baby. But make it for a few months instead. Maybe a year.”

  “What?” Her sister looked stunned.

  Constance was still in shock herself. “The lawyer said Mario has a million in the bank and more in stocks and bonds. It will take a while to figure out the legal stuff and taxes, but in the meantime, I’m transferring half of our savings into your account so you can go right away. Once all the legal details are taken care of, you’ll have half of Mario’s estate.”

  “I can’t believe this. It’s a dream come true.”

  After the nightmare they’d been through, Constance was glad to see a smile on her sister’s face. Being away would be good for her, maybe clear some of the shadows from her eyes.

  “You’ll stay only at reputable hotels. And you’ll be careful.”

  Abigail nodded. “Yes, Mom.” There was a teasing edge to her voice but also a deeper emotion. Constance might be her sister, but she had practically raised Abigail on her own.

  “Go on.” She shooed her away. “Go and start deciding when and where you’re going.”

  Her sister bound out of her chair, leaned down, and hugged her. “You’re the best.”

  “I know,” she teased, making Abigail laugh. Constance held on for a brief moment and then forced herself to let go. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up smothering Abigail. She didn’t want her sister out of her sight, but knew she had to let her find her own path in life.

  “I’m going to go out and think about this. Maybe stop for lunch and start making plans. Want to come?” Abigail had been going out more th
an she ever had in her life. It was as though she was no longer comfortable in their home. And why would she be? She’d been taken from here.

  “No, you go on. And, Abigail, we’ll talk more about what we want to do with the house.”

  Her sister chewed on her bottom lip and her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. “Okay.”

  That Abigail didn’t protest told her all she needed to know. It was time for them to sell the house and move on. Her sister would always have a home with her, but just not this one.

  “I’m heading out,” Abigail told her.

  “Do you want the van?”

  “No. I’m fine. I’ll take my bike.” The front doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she called out.

  But Constance was already out of her chair and hurrying toward the door. She doubted a kidnapper would be so polite as to ring the bell, but she was on edge. Oscar hadn’t made any contact with her. Since no one had come to their home, she had to assume he’d carried out his part of the bargain and they were safe from the Knights of the Dragon.

  Still, she didn’t want to take any chances.

  She reached the door just as Abigail opened it. Her sister took a step back. Constance charged forward and stepped in front of her.

  Shock stopped her in the tracks.

  Standing on her doorstep, looking as big and gorgeous as ever, was Nicodemus Wilde. She’d never expected to see him again. Why was he here now? Especially when she hadn’t had time to get him out of her system yet.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  …

  Not exactly the welcome he’d been hoping for, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Constance could have screamed at him to go away and threatened to call the cops.

  He drank in the sight of her. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans that clung to her hips. The short-sleeved top she wore hugged her breasts and stopped just above the waistband of her pants, exposing a small swath of velvety soft skin. He wanted to stroke it.

  Her hair always made him smile. It was vibrant like her. Golden on the top and fiery red at the tips. Her lips were pursed. He wanted to kiss them, maybe nibble on the wider bottom one.