Drakon's Knight (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

  “Anything on the phone you tapped?” Karina’s bodyguard would be making calls.

  Enoch shook his head. “Nothing. It’s likely it was destroyed before I could check.”

  Jericho had expected as much. Would have been too easy for Enoch to get a number they could trace. The Knights weren’t stupid or careless. But that wouldn’t stop him and his friends from finding out more.

  They had the groceries tucked away and were putting together a quick meal when footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  They all stilled and turned toward the doorway. Karina hesitated on the other side, squared her shoulders, and then entered the room. The bandage on her temple was missing, but the injury was no longer bleeding. That was a good sign.

  She wore leggings, topped with a soft-looking black sweater. There were canvas shoes on her feet. Her hair hung down around her in a dark curtain. It was probably too painful for her to try to do anything else with it.

  She took small, careful steps, as if she was sore and tender. He felt like smacking himself in the head. Of course, she was hurting. The car accident had left her bruised and stiff. Unlike him, she didn’t heal quickly. She would be days, likely weeks getting back to normal.

  “Sit.” It came out more of a command than a suggestion. She made her way to the chair at the head of the table. It was interesting that was the seat she automatically went for.

  “How do you feel?” he asked once she was settled. The others got busy cooking, not even bothering to try to pretend they weren’t listening to every word.

  “A bit better.” She swallowed, her slender throat rippling. “Can I have something to drink?”

  He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water and another individual bottle of orange juice.

  She took both, but it was the juice she opened first. At the first taste, she closed her eyes and made a sound of pleasure that had his cock jumping to attention. He didn’t want her to see it, and he sure as hell didn’t want to turn around and let the others have an up-close view of his erection.

  They’d never let him hear the end of it.

  To solve both problems, he yanked out the closest chair and sat. He was fascinated by her. Here she was alone, with no memory of who she was, surrounded by four men who’d taken her, and she was calmly finishing her drink.

  Drakons could move with lightning speed when called for, but patience was also something they possessed. It was a skill that had served Jericho and his friends well, especially in their chosen profession as assassins. It made them the perfect hunters.

  But she was testing the limits of his.

  She slowly lowered the empty bottle to the table and met his gaze.

  …

  Karina was desperately trying not to panic, but it wasn’t easy with four big men watching her every move. It had taken every ounce of determination and pride not to run screaming when they’d all looked toward her.

  Any smart person would be wary of them. And no matter what her earlier actions might suggest, her intelligence wasn’t in doubt.

  She was seeing them as a group for the first time without being totally muddled by her injuries. If she were more of a coward, she’d wish for the worst of the headache back again so she wouldn’t have to face them.

  They were tough and big. Mercy, were they big. They were all well over six and a half feet and took up every square inch of the rather large country kitchen.

  She studied the others first. Anything to avoid having to face Jericho.

  They all watched her with varying degrees of suspicion etched on their faces. The man closest to Jericho had the fiercest scowl.

  Seeing the direction of her gaze, Jericho glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Sadiq.”

  The scowler—was that even a word?—nodded at her. With his cropped, dark hair and equally dark eyes, he was not a man she wanted to get on the bad side of. Problem was, she was already there, for whatever reason. He looked like, given the chance, he’d rather kill her than sit down to dinner with her.

  A cold sweat broke out on her skin, but she managed to nod. Never let them see fear. That tenet seemed ingrained in her very being.

  “That’s Enoch.” Jericho continued the introductions. He, too, had black hair, but it was longer than Sadiq’s. His eyes were green, their expression more curious than murderous.

  “And that’s Khalil.” Like the rest, he had black hair, but his fell down his back in a tight braid. Like Enoch, his eyes were green. The two looked remarkably like brothers.

  All of them were wearing jeans, heavy boots, and T-shirts. Tattoos ranged down their bare arms. Her first assessment of them had been correct. They looked like badass bikers.

  But what would a biker gang want with her?

  “Who am I?” She turned back to Jericho, addressing her question to him. It was obvious he was the leader of this small group.

  “I told you.” He eased back in his chair. “Your name is Karina.” The wood creaked, and she held her breath, wondering if the seat would crack under the sheer weight and size of him, but it held. At least for now.

  “And that tells me nothing.”

  “What do you remember?” Suspicion dripping from every word, Sadiq moved closer. “Surely there must be something.”

  She could hear, almost taste the threat in his words. But she took the time to really think. The more she knew about herself, the better off she’d be.

  Pressing her fingertips to the side of her head, she concentrated on trying to recall what had happened. “I remember flying through their air, the sound of metal crunching, and then the silence.” Her stomach lurched, but she kept it in check.

  “The memories are spotty,” she went on. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”

  “No,” Sadiq answered and took another step closer to Jericho, almost as though he was trying to protect him. From what? Her? She wasn’t exactly a threat to anyone in her current state.

  Who is Karina? What did she do? She caught a flash of herself. A memory.

  “What? You remembered something?” Jericho leaned forward, resting his thick forearms on the table.

  She opened the bottle of water and took a sip, her mouth suddenly dry. “I’m in a conference room of some kind. I’m wearing a suit and heels. I feel like I’m in business. I run a business.” She looked to him for confirmation.

  “That makes sense.”

  Frustration ate at her. “If you know about me, why won’t you tell me anything?” Her past was there, just waiting for her. All she had to do was pull back the veil hiding it from her sight.

  “You probably wouldn’t believe me.”

  That stopped her cold. He was right. She most likely wouldn’t trust anything he told her. Shouldn’t. Yet, she didn’t think he’d lie. He’d be more likely to evade any question he didn’t want to answer.

  She closed her eyes and tried harder to force the memories to come, wanting desperately to reclaim herself and her past.

  But there was a part of her that was afraid. No, not afraid, terrified.

  She slowly opened her eyes. “What if I don’t want to remember?”

  …

  That was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Why wouldn’t you want to remember?”

  “I don’t know.” She pressed one hand against her heart. “But when I think about the past, my chest tightens.” She didn’t say it, but he could see the fear darkening her eyes.

  He hated to push her, but this was too important to all of them. Jericho held out his hand and Enoch came forward, passing over his phone.

  “I mentioned the injury on the top of your shoulder.”

  She carefully reached behind and touched the area. “The bandage is wet,” she told him almost defiantly. “But it stayed on during my shower. You said there was a tattoo.”

  He’d have to remember to check it later. The last thing she needed was for it to get infected. He tossed the phone on the table between them. “When Khalil was tending to your wounds on
the plane, we found this.” He pointed to the picture showing on the screen. “Enoch is researching the design.”

  Her frown deepened as she leaned forward to study the image. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and assure her that everything would be okay, that he’d protect her. Only he couldn’t promise her that.

  “It’s difficult to make out because of the jagged edges and stitches, but it looks like a labyrinth. Why does it matter? It’s just a tattoo.” She curled her fingers so tight in her lap they turned white. “It’s the only one,” she added. “I checked after my shower. If it’s significant, I should remember why I had it done, but I don’t.”

  “You’re a very important person.” It was time to push a little harder. His dragon wasn’t happy with him and was making his presence known, forcing him to exert a huge amount of energy to keep from shifting in the middle of the kitchen.

  Might be what she needs to shock her memories loose.

  Karina seemed startled by his change of subject, but then gave a sad little laugh. “I don’t feel important. I feel…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Expendable. I feel expendable.”

  Now that didn’t make sense. As leader of the Knights of the Dragon, wouldn’t she be hard to replace? She had to have people who supported her. Though, there were probably just as many who’d love to take her position as the head of the group.

  They did love power and money.

  He hated that she sounded so lost, so alone. Knowing it was probably a stupid move, he shoved back his chair and went down on one knee beside her, cupping her chin in his hand. “You’ll remember in time,” he assured her.

  “Promise?” Her eyes were damp with unshed tears.

  “Promise.” If he had to, he’d give her some of his blood to drink. That would heal any brain injury and possibly restore her memories. That would be a last-ditch effort. It would be best for her to discover things on her own. It would also give him more time with her.

  She was no longer looking at his face but was staring at the tattoo covering his left arm. It was a birthmark, a sign of who and what he was.

  “What are you thinking?”

  She laughed and gave her head a small shake. “It’s silly.”

  “It could be important,” he pressed her a little harder.

  Karina shrugged. “It’s just that for some reason your tattoos reminded me of dragons. Which doesn’t make sense since it’s not a dragon tattoo. Do you have one somewhere else? Maybe I saw it earlier but don’t remember.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t have a tattoo of a dragon.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh.”

  There was no longer any doubt that her memory was starting to come back. It was only a matter of time until she remembered everything. Jericho stood and strode out the back door and into the yard, leaving her alone with the others. They’d protect her, no matter their suspicions.

  He stalked off into the surrounding woods. All the while, his dragon roared and roared, going crazy inside him. He barely made it out of sight when the change came over him. Swearing, he hung on long enough to remove his boots and strip out of his clothes.

  The creature inside him, his other half, burst past all constraints, embracing freedom. His body grew in size and shape, limbs reforming. His head became wedge-shaped, the top flat, the jaw elongating to accommodate his huge, razor-sharp teeth. Scales slammed down over his skin, covering him in plate-like armor. Each scale was the same red as his tattoo and outlined in black, the color of his eyes.

  Giant wings exploded from his back and when he flapped them, the trees around him shivered. He was over fifteen feet long, not including his long, powerful tail, which doubled his size.

  It had only taken a second or two for the entire transformation. In that time, he’d flattened quite a few trees, creating a clearing where there had only been forest before.

  He huffed out a breath, careful to contain the fire that wanted to explode. His dragon was in a foul mood. They’d always been in accord with each other. Now they were at odds.

  The dragon wanted to claim her immediately. The man knew he had to proceed with caution. She was dangerous to him and his kind, might even cage and chain him if she got her memories back.

  That gave his dragon pause.

  No drakon wanted to be caged. By their very nature, they craved freedom.

  He turned his large head back toward the house. One of the others had opened the kitchen window, knowing he would stay close and be able to hear Karina if she was in trouble.

  He didn’t try to shift back, not yet. With all the traveling they’d done lately, his dragon had been contained for too long. That was part of the problem. As a group, they spent a lot of time in the untamed, uninhabited places in the world, which allowed them a great degree of freedom. There were cave systems all over the world, if one knew where to find them, big enough for a dragon to fly.

  But right now, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. In spite of the danger stalking them and the odds against them, a part of him was happy he’d found Karina. It gave hope to the others that there was a mate out there just waiting for them if they didn’t give up.

  He gave a small huff and lay down, careful not to destroy any more of the wilderness. Surrounded by the early morning sunlight, with the wind whipping around him, he let his dragon be. He’d give him a few minutes of freedom before shifting back and rejoining the others.

  Chapter Seven

  Well, that had gone well…not. Karina stared from the door that had closed behind Jericho, back to the phone screen lying on the table in front of her. She reached for it, half surprised when no one stopped her. Lifting it up to the light, she studied the picture, hoping for some kind of revelation.

  Better to keep busy than to allow feelings of abandonment to swamp her. Because that’s what she’d experienced when he’d gotten up and walked out, leaving her alone with the others. Completely and utterly abandoned.

  Which didn’t make any sense, since she really didn’t know him. Of course, at this point, she didn’t know anyone, least of all herself. And why had the word expendable popped into her head out of nowhere when she thought about herself?

  That doesn’t sound promising. What kind of life have I lived?

  “He’ll be back,” Khalil assured her.

  She ignored him and continued to examine the image of the tattoo. “This is really on my shoulder?” It looked well done but didn’t seem particularly special. “It has some kind of significance, doesn’t it?”

  “Possibly,” Khalil admitted.

  That told her exactly nothing. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who would get a tattoo. Or maybe she was. Except it was the only one she had. Maybe the tattoo was the one clue to who she really was.

  Khalil brought a bowl of soup to the table and place it in front of her. The fragrant scent of chicken and noodles made her stomach grumble, reminding her she likely hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Not that she could remember.

  She closed her fingers around the phone and held it a moment, somehow hoping something would come to her. When it didn’t, she carefully placed it on the table beside her. “Thank you.”

  Feeling a little like an animal on display at the zoo, she picked up the spoon that had been placed in the bowl and scooped up some of the rich broth. Once again, she reminded herself that if they were going to harm her, they’d have already done so.

  But she hesitated, the spoon hovering outside her mouth. She couldn’t make herself eat it. Trust issues were obviously a thing for her, memory or not.

  Sadiq grunted, his frown deepening. Khalil simply got another spoon, dipped it into her bowl, and swallowed the contents. “It’s safe,” he assured her.

  After waiting a moment to make sure he didn’t start to froth at the mouth, she began eating. It was slow going because, in spite of her body’s demands, she wasn’t really hungry. Plus, there was the real fear the food wouldn’t stay down. Her stomach was unsettled, and a dull ac
he continually throbbed in her head. She had to try to get the soup down if she was going to get stronger.

  Once they were certain she was eating, they dug in. There was soup and sandwiches, pizza, and grilled chicken. They must not have eaten in a long time, either, because they devoured the food like they were starving. Although, it made sense they’d need more since they were all big men.

  Enoch grabbed yet another slice of pizza and raised it in silent salute, making her realized she’d stopped eating to watch them.

  Lowering her gaze, she went back to her own meal, but every few seconds her gaze would track to the door. Where was Jericho? And when would he be back?

  “You really don’t remember anything?” Khalil asked. He sounded skeptical. She couldn’t blame him. It did seem like something out of a movie.

  She set her spoon back down in the almost empty bowl and pushed it aside. “I remember basics like how to eat and do simple tasks. I know about generic things like shopping and money and movies and books. But, no, when it comes to who I am, what makes me, well, me… Nothing.” Her injuries were very real, but a part of her feared it wasn’t just the physical trauma keeping her past at bay.

  Her intelligence wasn’t in doubt, nor was her tenacity, her mental toughness. She knew that about herself. But why and how she’d gained those very traits, she had no clue.

  What kind of woman was kidnapped by a biker gang? What sort of business was she involved in?

  “Is what I do illegal?” As much as she might want to hide from it, she needed to know the truth.

  One corner of Sadiq’s mouth turned up in a sardonic grin. “You certainly don’t seem to think so.”

  Which meant what? They did consider it illegal?

  “Drugs? Guns?” Those were the first two things she thought of that she might do that would be of interest men like this.

  “No guns. At least, not that we know of.” Sadiq picked up a chicken leg and munched, totally relaxed, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.