He rubbed his hands together and seemed to contemplate her offer. “Can I interest you in some wine?”
“Yes, I’d love some.” Straightening, she tried to appear as if she made five such deals before breakfast.
“That building is of strategic importance to my coven. Its loss would be a serious inconvenience. How can I be certain you are as powerful as you say?”
She shrugged. “You’ll have to take my word for it. I can’t shift here. The room is too small.”
“Your blood. I can tell by your blood. Give me a taste, and if the magic running through your veins is as strong and powerful as you say it is, I will consider your offer.” He didn’t wait for her reply before gathering a wineglass and a small knife from the bar.
She offered her arm. There was a fast strike and then a spurt of hot blood. Bright red liquid splashed into his glass before her flesh healed itself.
He held it up and clinked it against her wineglass. “To new acquaintances and powerful alliances.”
Overjoyed that her plan had worked, Rowan tipped her head in a gesture of camaraderie, then brought the wine to her lips and took a drink, as did Malvern.
“Goddess, your blood is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. No wonder they want you so urgently. It’s like drinking pure magic.”
“No wonder who wants me?” she asked. But she was having trouble forming thoughts. The room was tilting and it felt like her head might pop off her shoulders. She gripped the back of one of the leather chairs, desperate to steady herself, but it wasn’t enough. Head spinning, she collapsed onto the floor, all the air flowing from her lungs in a loud oomph.
Malvern’s face appeared above her. “Relax, dragon. Don’t fight it. The drug I dissolved in your wine is going to make you take a long nap. When you wake, we’ll speak again.”
Her vision narrowed as if she were staring down a long tunnel. Then the darkness closed in and she succumbed to unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It had been a long night. Aside from Nick grabbing his binoculars out of his car, he hadn’t moved from the branch overlooking Malvern’s estate in hours, and his back and neck were officially killing him. But as the darkness slowly faded toward the silver light of dawn, Nick got what he was waiting for. That slimeball Michael Verinetti exited the mansion alone, entered his car alone, and left the property alone.
“Fucking bastard.” There was only one thing that had kept him in that tree all night and that was the feeling, down to his bones, that something was not right about this situation. Rowan had promised to come by his apartment that night. If she remained inside, it wasn’t of her own free will. Which told him his deepest fear had been realized. Verinetti had never intended to follow through on his end of the bargain. He’d always meant to feed Nick into the jaws of death. Rowan was just a pretty appetizer.
He waited until the sun came up, hoping security would be at a minimum as the vampires all fell asleep. No such luck. If anything, there were more human guards. More guns. He cursed again. He’d need a small army and plenty of ammunition to get in there. He’d have to do things the smart way if he was going to get Rowan out.
A small army. The light bulb came on in Nick’s exhausted brain. He looked at his watch and texted his neighbor to walk Rosco. Then he hopped down from the tree and walked his sore body back to the car.
A little over an hour later, Nick arrived at Zelda’s Folly, parked around the corner, and waited in front of the security gate. Harriet didn’t strike him as the type of employee who was often late, and he wasn’t disappointed to see Djorji drop her off right on time. Dressed in a mint-green suit with a hat that reminded him of something British royalty would wear and a white leather handbag slung across her forearm, Harriet shuffled down the sidewalk toward him.
“Mr. Grandstaff, I was wondering if I’d see you here today. The cards said you were coming, but there’s always the element of choice to reckon with.”
“Did the cards tell you what’s happening to Rowan?”
Her designer pumps clacked to a halt on the sidewalk. “No. Oh dear, this must be serious. Come inside. We’ll talk while we wait for the others to arrive.”
“Others? What others?”
She didn’t answer him but unlocked the security gate and then the glass door. As they entered Zelda’s Folly, Nick noticed the art had changed. The room was now filled with abstract sculptures of bent and twisting humanoid forms.
“What do you think of our new exhibit, Mr. Grandstaff?” Harriet asked, removing her hat.
“Uh, the bodies are all distorted. Looks painful. This must be about torture or the Holocaust or something, right?”
Harriet chuckled. “No. Love.”
“Oh.” Nick shrugged. “I was close.”
Laughing under her breath, she led him into the back room and motioned toward a chair. “Please sit and tell me what happened to Rowan.”
“Yes, we have to hurry— Oww!” Harriet had grabbed his hand and pricked his finger. He watched a bead of his blood drop onto a square of paper. “What the hell?”
“I need your blood to help Rowan.”
“Why would my blood tell you anything about Rowan?”
She smiled at him. “Old Traveller magic. Leave it to me. Now, if you please, tell me your story.”
His brows knitted together. He told her everything, from the area the compound was in, to the number of guards, the background with Verinetti and his suspicion that the shifter kingpin had sold her up the river to make amends for what happened at Wicked Divine, all because she wouldn’t return his advances.
Harriet removed a large green banana leaf from her purse and placed it on the desk between them. She placed his blood in the center, then sprinkled it with various powders from her bag.
“Are you listening to me?” he asked, exasperated.
She nodded. “Oh yes, Mr. Grandstaff, and I suspect you are right about Verinetti and that Rowan is in mortal danger.”
He tossed up his hands. “Well, what are we going to do?”
“What do you think we should do? I doubt very much that you came here believing an old woman like me would be much help. I can give you a few elixirs to aid your efforts, but I’m a horrible shot.”
“What about her brothers?” he asked, the secret plan he had been turning over in his brain coming to the surface. “She said she had family, specifically a couple of brothers whom she called a two-man army. Do you know how to find them? We’ll need some serious firepower if we’re going to bust her out of that place.”
Harriet grinned. “Smart, Mr. Grandstaff. And, lucky for you, Rowan’s brothers are on their way here right now.”
“They are? But I thought she said they lived far away?”
“Five… four… three… two…”
The front door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps reached his ears. A deep voice called, “Hello?”
Nick got to his feet and exited the office. Two of the largest men he’d ever seen stood inside the door. Professional-athlete big. One was dark and enormous as a linebacker, the other blond, tall, and exceptionally focused. Nick was used to being one of the biggest people in any room. Not today. At the moment, he felt positively petite.
Harriet shuffled out from behind him and gave a knowing smile. “I was wondering when you two would get here.”
“Mrs. Fernhall?” the blond asked, looking utterly confused.
“A white lie. It was Rowan’s wish that you not find her. I am Harriet Everwood, bonded servant to your sister. Hello, Gabriel.” She shook the dark-haired man’s hand, then clasped the blond’s. “Tobias.”
It was the one called Gabriel who spoke next. “We almost didn’t find her. If we hadn’t tracked down our brother Alexander’s residence in Sedona and put together that the gallery in New York buying all his paintings must be Rowan’s, we’d still be searching for her. When Alexander’s neighbor said he hadn’t been home in several days, we took a chance there was still time to catch up w
ith Rowan here before she moved again.”
“I’m afraid your inability to track her was my fault. I’ve had a concealment spell protecting her for several months. But I must ask, why the sudden urgency to find her?”
“She is in great danger. There’s a price on her head. On all our heads. Vampires are hunting dragons by order of their elder council, the Forebears.”
“Vampires?” Nick said with alarm. “You’re too late. They already have her!”
A collective growl came from the two men, and Nick took a step back.
“Who is this, Harriet?” Gabriel gruffly gestured toward Nick. “And why is he suggesting the vampires have my sister?”
“This is Rowan’s bonded mate,” Harriet said. “And he’s the one who witnessed her abduction.”
“Bonded mate?” Gabriel’s eyebrows rose toward the ceiling.
The weight of the two brothers’ stares bore into Nick. “I’m not sure I would describe us as bonded.”
Harriet pointed toward the office. “It’s in your blood. I can see it as if you were tied to her with a ribbon.”
Tobias held up his hand. “Not that Rowan’s love life isn’t fascinating, but it sounds like our sister is in trouble. Can one of you fill us in on the details?”
Nick launched into an explanation of what was happening, trying to convey everything he knew about NAVAK all the way back to what happened at Wicked Divine. When he got to the part about Verinetti, he could hear the venom in his voice. He’d never wanted to kill anyone so much in his entire life. And her brothers’ reactions did not disappoint. The sheer fury rolling off the two men became a palpable thing.
Tobias glanced at Gabriel and then back at Nick. He pulled out his phone and started typing furiously. “We should go now, while the vampires are asleep.”
“Agreed,” Gabriel said. “If this place is as secluded as Nick says it is, one of us can shift and burn it to the ground while the other gets Rowan out.”
Nick cleared his throat. “You can’t burn the place down. There are humans in there. I saw them last night. They call them the herd. They’re all compelled by the vampires and tattooed like chattel.”
The brothers groaned. “We both go in then,” Tobias said. “Nick, we’ll need you to show us where she is.”
Nick nodded and started toward the door. “I have a car.”
But Harriet held up her wrinkled hands. “I’m afraid that would be a disaster,” she said in her high, tight voice. “The spell I performed using Nick’s blood says you should attack at twilight.”
“But that’s when all the vampires will be waking up!” Nick protested.
But Gabriel pointed a finger at her. “She’s right. If we attack at twilight, there will be pandemonium. The vampires will be weak. Perhaps they won’t have fed yet. And when it comes to the security contingent, the day shift will be exhausted.”
Nick couldn’t believe his ears. “We can’t just leave her there all day! Who knows what they’re doing to her!”
Gabriel’s hand landed on Nick’s shoulder, where he had a moment to appreciate the giant emerald ring the man wore and how it resembled Rowan’s ruby one. He noticed Tobias had one too—a sapphire. It must be a family thing.
“Your concern is admirable. You must care for her deeply.”
Nick didn’t say a word. He was so confused about the bonded-mate thing Harriet had mentioned. What did it mean? He didn’t want to saddle Rowan with a commitment she didn’t even know she was making.
Tobias’s phone chimed and he thumbed the screen. “Sabrina says the vampires will likely want to keep her alive until the Forebears can talk to her. Although there is a price on her head, they won’t want to risk killing her. Not after they taste her blood. And no vampire she knows would pass up a taste.”
“Who’s Sabrina?” Nick asked.
“My wife and master of the Chicago vampire coven. I’ve texted her. She’ll send help, but her people sleep during the day and it will take her time to get here.”
“You’re married to one of them?” Nick rubbed the back of his neck.
“She’s on our side. We need her. She’s the reason we know we are in danger.”
Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d been awake all night, and exhaustion weighed on his shoulders.
Harriet raised a finger. “Ah. So the magic was correct. Another reason to wait until twilight. And still another, I have a potion brewing that will help you, but you must come with me to Ember Fields to get it. Djorji will drive us.” She pulled her phone out of her designer handbag and tapped the screen.
“So, my wife was right. You are a witch,” Gabriel said.
“Why would you think I was a witch?” Harriet said. “Do you think witches have cornered the market on magic?”
Nick frowned. “Personally, I’m sick of the ‘guess what I am and what I’m married to’ game. Can you just tell the human what the fuck is going on?”
Harriet laughed. “I’m a Traveller. What was once called a gypsy here in the old days. My ancient magic is a gift from my ancestors, the earth, and the dragon’s tooth that lives within me.”
Nick’s jaw dropped. “Dragon’s tooth?”
Harriet sighed. “Oh dear. I’ll tell you the story on the way. Djorji is here. We have work to do.”
Rowan woke in pain, although when she tried to adjust her body, she couldn’t move but a few centimeters. Her wrists and ankles were bound and she was someplace dark, as dark as the inside of the mountain.
Blinking, she tried to allow her eyes to adjust, but her dragon’s vision refused to cooperate. Without it, she was forced to use her exposed skin to gauge her surroundings. Silky fabric brushed her skin. Beside her was… a body. A high-pitched sound came from deep within her throat. She tried to sit up, and the top of her head hit more satin. Thank the Mountain, whatever was above her lifted with the pressure of her head, allowing in a shaft of dim light. The padded and silk-lined walls of a coffin came into view, and Malvern himself lay beside her, dead for the day.
Terror chilled her blood, and she tried to work her knees under her to climb out of the box. Why was she so weak? Every time she attempted to call on her inner dragon, her energy waned, as if opening the connection to her magic was also draining it.
To her relief, a set of hands lifted the lid and helped her out. Her bound feet landed on cold stone, and she looked up into the face of a pale human man whose throat was peppered with puncture wounds and bruises. His dark hair was badly in need of a wash, and his clothing was inadequate for the cold room. She quickly assessed the situation. Stone walls. One metal door in the back of the room that was worthy of a medieval dungeon.
“Relax. Your bindings are enchanted. If you try to use your powers, they’ll only weaken you until you eventually pass out. And the door is locked. They open it from the outside just before twilight, when the vamps wake up.”
“You said the bindings are enchanted? Enchanted by whom?”
“Some witch who works for Malvern. I don’t know her.” He turned and sat down in a chair in the corner of the room where a computer screen glowed. Rowan realized it was the only source of light in the room. “You can sit over there until he wakes up if you want. There’s a bucket on the other side of the room if you need to use the toilet. It’s not as bad as it sounds. There’s a seat.”
Rowan swallowed and tested her bindings. As promised, her energy diminished as if she’d gone days without sleep. She slid into the chair beside the human. Despite her predicament, she couldn’t help but pity the man who sported the NAVAK tattoo on his wrist.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly.
“Barry.”
“Do you work for the vampires?”
He blinked rapidly. “I am theirs.” There was no other way to interpret his intonation than that he was their property.
She folded her bound hands in her lap and tried to look as casual and unassuming as possible. “So, you spend all day down here, guarding the sleeping vampi
res.”
He looked at her blankly. “All day, all night. I sleep there.” He pointed to a nest of filthy blankets on a mat in the corner.
“You sleep there?”
Barry gave her the slightest tip of his head, then turned back toward his screen. He was playing solitaire, and the glow from the monitor accented the dark circles under his eyes.
“When was the last time you were allowed out of this room?” she asked softly.
His hand trembled on his mouse. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s not right, Barry. Fuck, they should at least let you out to see the sun.”
He didn’t respond. She wondered if he’d really heard her. Rowan watched him click on a card to turn it over and felt a deep sense of dread. This vampire coven had no respect for human life at all. Why should she believe they’d have any respect for hers? The way Malvern had looked at her when she’d said she was a dragon. It was as if she were a butterfly he wanted to collect and pin to his wall. After several minutes had passed, Rowan tried Barry again.
“Do you know what Malvern plans to do with me?” She didn’t have high hopes that he would tell her, or that he’d even know, but she had to ask.
Barry frowned at his keyboard. “I overheard them say that the Forebears want you. I think they’re on their way here.”
“Who are the Forebears?”
He didn’t look away from his screen. “Elder council of vampires. They sent a communication a few weeks ago that said any vampire who found a dragon had to deliver it to them, dead or alive.”
She inhaled swiftly.
“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Malvern is addicted to your blood. I’ve never seen him go to bed with his dinner before.”
“He fed on me while I was sleeping?”
Barry snorted. “Like you were filled with chocolate sauce. You heal quickly.”
Manhattan Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 3) Page 19