Manhattan Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 3)

by Genevieve Jack

  The brothers’ smiles were dual images of each other, the way only siblings can be. But then Tobias’s expression morphed into an expression that made Nick instantly uncomfortable. He hated pity.

  “Did she feed you her tooth?” he asked.

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow in Tobias’s direction. “Personal much?”

  “I’m just trying to assess the potential risks—”

  “No,” Nick said, trying not to appear appalled at the thought. “She did not give me one of her teeth.”

  “Feed you—” Gabriel shook his head. “Never mind. You’re vulnerable. As much as your instincts make you want to be the one to kill Malvern, I can’t promise you anything. Our first priority is to get you and her out of there alive. We are immortal. You are not. I will attempt to allow you to kill Malvern to appease the bond, but I won’t let you die to do it.”

  Nick buckled his bulletproof vest. He preferred not to die. “Sounds fair to me.”

  “I’m no good at hand-to-hand, Gabriel. You’re going to have to take him in.” Tobias started stripping off his shirt and pants.

  “What’s happening right now?” Nick asked as Rowan’s brother stripped to his boxers.

  Gabriel grabbed Nick’s arm and dragged him back toward the van. “Rowan must have told you what we are.”

  “Of course she did. I just—”

  The sound of cracking bones and bursting organs filled his ears, a snap like an overstretched rubber band, and then the clink of metal on metal. Nick whirled to find a brilliant white dragon with piercing blue eyes staring at him from between the trees. The faintest hint of blue radiated between the scales of its chest. The dragon that once was Tobias stretched its wings. Nick tripped while backing the hell up and fell on his ass.

  “Holy fuck. What the— Huge. Fucking huge!”

  “I take it you’ve never seen Rowan like this,” Gabriel said.

  Nick shook his head vigorously.

  “By the Mountain,” Gabriel said, appalled. “How well do you two know each other?”

  “Well,” he stuttered. “Real well. I’ve seen her wings, just not…” He gestured in the general direction of the fire-breathing semitruck between the trees.

  Gabriel reached into the van and thrust a CA-415 into his hands. “You know how to use one of these?”

  “Stay on the trigger end?”

  “Good enough.”

  “I thought bullets couldn’t kill vampires.”

  “These are silver. Aim for the head. Plus you’ll have these.” Gabriel strapped a couple of wooden stakes to his thighs and slung a crossbow and quiver of wooden arrows to his back.

  All together it was heavy as hell, but Nick sucked it up. There was a reason he worked out. You never knew when you’d need a few pounds of muscle.

  Once Gabriel was similarly armed to the teeth, Nick started for the tree, wondering how he was going to climb up its trunk to drop himself over the wall when his every limb was weighted down with weapons and ammo. He paused when a hollow, sonorous flap like unfurling canvas met his ears. He whirled to find Gabriel’s green wings glinting black as they shifted in the light. Monstrous wings, the hooked barbs at the arches more pronounced than Rowan’s, whose now seemed positively feminine by comparison.

  “Hold tight,” Gabriel said.

  “What?”

  There was a rush, and then all the air left Nick’s lungs as he was carried straight up, through the leaves and branches of the woods, and over the massive wall. Although Gabriel set him down softly on the other side, it was a long moment until he could catch his breath. He’d never been much for heights, and that ride was like the most intense roller coaster he’d ever been on.

  “You okay?” Gabriel squeezed Nick’s shoulder, and he forced himself to swallow down the rising urge to be sick.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  The guards in front of the building had already spotted them. A dog began to bark, and men yelled at them in three different languages.

  “Tobias,” Gabriel yelled. “It’s time to clear the way, brother!”

  Nick looked toward the sky as branches snapped and a rush of wind blew into him from above. He staggered backward. The airplane-sized white dragon that was Tobias swooped over his head, roaring loud enough that the sound vibrated in his bones. As Tobias rushed toward NAVAK’s security contingent, the dragon’s chest expanded, glowing bright sapphire blue behind the white scales. The guards fired. Rat-tat-tat. But the bullets bounced harmlessly off Tobias’s scales. A rushing roar like the working of massive bellows filled the air. The dragon’s mouth opened, and its giant teeth flashed in warning. Then a blast of fire left the creature’s throat and cut through the twilight, warming Nick’s face despite him being a half mile back from the target.

  The security guards erupted in screams. Those caught in direct fire were incinerated instantly. Others on the fringes just burned, throwing themselves on the ground to try to extinguish the flames. Those lucky enough to be missed dropped their guns and ran for cover. The few who kept their shit together fired uselessly at Tobias. The dragon flapped his wings, rose and circled beneath the moon, and dive-bombed the fleeing guards, its mighty chest expanding again before raining fire across the front of the building. What resulted was a runway of sorts, a cleared path outlined by two burning strips of fire.

  “Don’t hurt the dog!” Nick yelled, eyeing a German shepherd that looked a hell of a lot like Rosco running from the blaze.

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow in his direction.

  “What?” Nick flipped a rude hand gesture. “The dog isn’t to blame. He’s an innocent animal.”

  “I assure you, my brother will avoid harming any innocent animals.” He raised two fingers and motioned toward the building. “Now, get in there and help me find my sister.”

  Darkness closed in on Rowan, and she gasped for breath under Malvern’s weight. Although her bound wrists were crushed between their bodies, he was still too close, the bite too intimate. The vampire’s mouth was sealed around the wound on her neck and he’d been rhythmically swallowing for what seemed like forever but was probably only a matter of minutes. She felt like an antelope caught in a lion’s jaws, pinned under the beast with its teeth buried in her flesh, the animal stink of him sinking into her skin.

  She wanted to fight him. Desperately, she wanted to. But Rowan’s strength had flowed out of her along with her blood. She was immortal, but the enchanted bindings at her wrists and ankles were restraining her magic and keeping her body from recovering. Her skin turned hot, then icy cold from blood loss. Did he plan to drain her completely? It was likely.

  “Malvern, you must stop. You’re killing me,” she rasped.

  At last his fangs slid out of her flesh, and she felt his tongue lap grotesquely over the wound.

  “You…” His face came into view above her, his ghostly pale features and small, cutting eyes turning her stomach. This close, he looked dead and reeked of old blood. Even with the blush her blood had provided him, he was nothing more than a corpse. He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “Your blood is such a rush.”

  “You’ve taken too much,” she croaked, her tongue dry as sandpaper. “Release my bindings so that I can heal or there will be no more blood for you to drink.”

  He frowned and shifted his weight so that he was lying beside her on the bed, his cold, hard body stretched out against her. He ran his long nails down the outside of her arm and hooked his finger in the binding around her wrists. “You want me to remove these?”

  “Yes.” She sent him a pleading look. She was so weak. Even if he did release her, she wasn’t sure she could shift or fight him off in her current state. Not immediately. She shivered as his icy-cold fingers traveled over her hip and down the outside of her leg.

  “You are an exceptional specimen. I never knew dragons existed. We all thought you were a myth.” His words were slightly slurred and his lids heavy, almost as if her blood had made him drunk.

  She shivered with disgu
st as his nails continued to trace over her skin. “Please. I’m not well.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was the only weapon she had left. She had to appeal to logic. She must convince him she was worth more alive. “If you release me, I can recover and my blood will last longer.”

  His hands trailed lower, over the silk charmeuse fabric of her dress, her hip, her thigh. She hated that Malvern was touching her. Oddly, it made her think of Nick, how she was his and how only his hands should be allowed on her skin. She hated Malvern and wished she was herself so she could fry him in the fire of her own breath. But she was helpless.

  His nails scraped along her calves and then his fingers went to work between her ankles. Once Malvern had succeeded in untying the bindings around her legs, Rowan couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief. She stretched her legs and flexed her ankles. The skin was sore, but it would heal.

  “Now my wrists. I’ll heal. I’ll be worth more to you well.” She tried to sound sincere and held her wrists out to Malvern.

  A wicked smile spread his lips, and he slowly shook his head. “Worth. What are you worth? What could the Forebears ever give me that would adequately compensate me for this?” His eyes raked over her, and he dragged a thumb along the corner of his mouth. “I want you to myself and for myself. And if they will force you from me, I will have you first. I will have you until no one else can. I will be the last to have you.”

  She shook her head. “No. No, Malvern.”

  But he had already used the rope he’d pulled from her ankles to thread through the bindings at her wrists and the wrought iron headboard. He forced her hands above her head, leaving her exposed. What little comfort she’d had from the protection of her bindings was now gone.

  “You’re beautifully pale,” he said, grabbing her bottom jaw. “Pale as a vampire. Can you be turned, I wonder? You’d make a lovely vampire.”

  She stiffened and turned her head away as he leaned down as if to kiss her. He hissed at the side of her jaw, his body coming to rest on top of her again, his knee forcing its way between her own.

  “No. The Forebears cannot have you. I will keep you. I will break you.”

  He squeezed her jaw and forced her to look at him, just as the house shook and the sound of gunfire tore through the dimly lit room.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The gun kicked in Nick’s hands as he sprayed the vampires in front of the mansion with bullets. Thanks to the runway bordered with fire Tobias had laid for them, Nick had made it to the front porch rather easily, Gabriel at his side. But a second wave of security guards had stormed them from both sides. Unlike the coven’s human security contingent, these were vampires and more committed.

  While Gabriel John Wick-ed his way through the attackers in front of him, a pistol in each hand, his taloned wings working overtime to shred vampires, Nick backed toward the door, shooting anything that snuck by the dragon’s killing blows. Rowan hadn’t exaggerated; Gabriel was a killing machine. He’d clearly been trained for this.

  As for Nick, in all his years in law enforcement, he’d never been in a situation quite like this one. Yes, he’d been shot at, but not like this. This was war. Thank God whatever Harriet had given him was filling in where his skills and abilities fell short. He’d become an excellent shot and was dodging bullets with Matrix-like maneuvers he could have never pulled off yesterday. Pop, pop, pop. Vampire heads exploded like watermelons under a sledgehammer. A vampire to his left pulled a gun, and Nick finished him in a heartbeat.

  Tobias roared and scorched the earth in front of Gabriel, cutting off the vampires who raced in from God knew where to join their brethren. Nick reached the front door and threw it open. A flash of fang dropped from the general direction of the chandelier. He wedged his gun under the creature’s jaw and sent its brains into the stratosphere. Two more attacked from the left while one charged straight at him. He put a bullet through the first one’s head, kicked the second one in the teeth, and impaled the third one with a wooden stake he drew from the holster on his leg. Number two sat up, a dark-haired male roughly the size of a bear, and Nick got a horrific view of the dining room through a two-inch hole in its abdomen. He aimed for the head, pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing happened.

  Ejecting the magazine, he reached for another in his vest, only to be plowed over by the charging vampire. The crossbow dug into his back through the vest and his gun slipped from his hand and skidded across the marble floor. The vamp tore the new mag from his grip and hurled it through the window, into the mounting flames. Fangs landed in his shoulder. Nick kneed the vampire in the groin, hard enough to loosen its grip on him. It was enough to free his right hand. He reached down the side of his leg, his fingertips fumbling to grip a wooden stake. Got it! Rolling the vampire, he thrust the stake through its heart. Blood sprayed across Nick’s chest and then the light faded from its eyes.

  Nick scrambled to his feet and drew the crossbow, loading it with a wooden arrow from the quiver. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel eviscerate another vamp outside the door before rushing in behind him.

  “Watch out!” Gabriel yelled.

  Nick saw nothing but a set of blurred shapes. Six more vampires charged at them from the left. His feet left the floor as Gabriel spun him around and lifted him into the air. He easily assessed the situation, pulled the trigger and reloaded, again and again. The arrows pierced eye, head, and heart. All six fell. Thank you, Harriet. Nick was good, but he wasn’t this good, especially not with a crossbow.

  “Drop me,” he said to Gabriel, and the dragon obeyed. Landing on his feet, he loaded his last arrow and looked right, then left. Another stream of dragon fire blazed beyond the open door. No more were coming in from that direction.

  “Do you have any ammo left?” Nick asked.

  “No. A few stakes and a dagger,” Gabriel said.

  “Me either. Last arrow. One stake.”

  “Which way is Rowan?” Gabriel asked him. They were back to back in the foyer, scanning every open doorway.

  “How should I know?” Nick said. “She could be anywhere.”

  Gabriel scoffed. “Why do you think we brought you here, Nick? I thought you shared a connection with my sister?”

  “I do. I… feel for Rowan… Strongly. I care for her.”

  Gabriel growled and turned to him, folding his wings away. He pressed a finger into Nick’s chest. “Then reach out with your instincts. These vampires stole your mate. Are you going to let them have her? Where is she, Nick? Find her.”

  There was that word again. Mate. What did it mean? Then again, what did it matter? Rowan was his. His. He should have told her so that night they’d made love. He should have thrown her over his shoulder when she’d tried to leave the Dakota, carried her back into her bedroom, and shown her why she couldn’t go anywhere with Verinetti that night or ever again. The thought of anyone else touching Rowan made him furious. Heat flooded his face, his chest. Every cell in his body clenched for action. He had to find her. He had to find her now.

  Nick’s adrenaline soared and something clicked. Whether it was Harriet’s tonic or his connection to Rowan, he thought he heard the faintest sound, a buzz or a hum, coming from upstairs. A deep grunt worked its way out of his throat, and he took the stairs two at a time. He glanced back.

  “I’ll cover you,” Gabriel said, backing up the stairs behind him.

  Nick raised the crossbow and crept down the hall in the direction of the sound. The floor creaked under his weight, and he tried his best to roll his steps and listen for Rowan. His breath came too quickly. He pursed his lips to try to slow it down. He had to keep his head. Focus. His eyes landed on the last door. She was in there. Somehow he knew.

  “No,” he heard her whimper, and it was all the confirmation he needed.

  He tried to open the door. Locked. Backing up, he threw a kick. Then another. Then put all his weight behind it. The door splintered from its lock and swung open on its hinges. Nick charged in, then came up short at
what he saw. Rowan was tied to the bed, her skin pale as snow, her eyes rolled back in her head. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. God, he hoped she was breathing. Her dress had been pushed up her hips, and a pair of fang marks bled from her thigh.

  “Oh God, Rowan!” Tears filled his eyes as he rushed to her.

  He never reached her. A brutal force swept him off his feet and slammed him to the floor. Nick’s head cracked against wood. The crossbow flew across the room and a big, Russian-looking vampire held him down and stared at him through small beady eyes.

  The creature laughed wickedly. “It’s you! I remember you.”

  For a moment Nick thought he’d descended into his worst nightmare. The hair was different, but the face hadn’t changed. He knew this man. Well, he’d thought he was a man the day he’d thrown him from the parking garage. Clearly he’d been wrong. For twenty years, he’d lived with the guilt of believing he’d killed someone. Now all the events of his past rearranged themselves. No wonder the man had seemed so invincible, so larger than life.

  You couldn’t kill what was already dead.

  “Trojan…,” Nick rasped.

  “Malvern. You should know my true name before I end you.” He dug his nails into Nick’s biceps and ran his tongue along his fangs. “I bet you taste sweet, just like your mother.”

  “My mother?” Nick struggled in Malvern’s grip, but he was overpowered.

  “She was my whore for years. I lost control one night and drained her dry. Poor little orphan. Did you think she’d abandoned you?”

  “You fucking bastard.”

  “Seems like that label belongs to you. None of us believed Stan was your father. Though who it was is anyone’s guess.”