Authors: Mina Carter
Pulling herself from the warmth of the bed, she grabbed sweats and a T-shirt from her closet. There hadn’t been a guard at the top of the stairs last night, but it didn’t mean that there wasn’t one there now, and the last thing she wanted to do was go flashing one of Baron’s men. Especially since she figured the only reason he’d have left her side was to go check on one of the security details. The warm, fuzzy feeling that had taken root in the centre of her chest spread out. She liked how thorough he was…a fact he’d proven more than a few times during the night, until he’d almost driven her mad with just how
thorough
he could be. Her body heat at the memory as she opened the door to her bedroom and slipped out. He sure as hell knew what he was doing when it came to the bedroom as well.
The corridor beyond was lit but empty. A sigh of relief hissed from her lungs as she padded across the carpet barefoot. No guard at the top of the stairs to witness Baron leaving her room like a guilty teenager on a midnight tryst. She pushed the thought aside. What did it matter who saw him, and what they thought? Both she and Baron were consenting adults so it was none of anyone else’s business what they did in private.
The sound of a voice reached her from one of the rooms down the hall. It was muffled and indistinct, so she couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was definitely Baron. She smiled to herself. He must have had a call on his cell and come out of her room to avoid waking her. The warm feeling turned her heart to mush. Thorough and thoughtful, not a common combination in her experience. Then the devil on her shoulder prodded her. If he was in his room, there was a bed….
Her fingers had contacted the door handle, the metal cool under her hand, when she heard a second voice and froze. If he was on a cell, she shouldn’t hear the second person, surely? Then she relaxed. Speakerphone, of course. He’d gone hands-free. Reassured, she started to push down on the door handle.
“Come away from the window, you daft twat.” Baron’s growl rang out. “No one knows that you’re here and we need to keep it that way.”
What the fuck? Honor stilled, frozen in place. Crowding closer, she put her ear to the door. Who was Baron keeping in there, and why didn’t he want anyone to know?
“Iliona is going to kill you.” The other man’s voice was just as deep as Barons, with that growl she’d come to associate with him, but unfamiliar. “You do know that, don’t you?”
Iliona. Honor’s blood ran cold. Suddenly the identity of the other guy in the room was much less important than finding out who this Iliona was. Baron’s lover? His wife? Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the stab of pain through her heart. He wouldn’t…surely he wouldn’t? Even though she’d only known him what…a day…she’d thought she knew him. They’d connected last night, the sort of soul deep connection that couldn’t be faked. Or so she’d thought. He’d made her feel safe, secure, and wanted. When she’d looked into his eyes, she’d seen all her tomorrows, and they’d been glorious, happy ones.
“She doesn’t need to know about Honor.” A whimper of pain left her lips at Baron’s answer, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “No one needs to know—”
She couldn’t listen to any more. Tears coursing down her cheeks, she pushed away from the door and stumbled back to her own room. Pain and misery threatening to choke her, she stopped just inside the door, swaying on her feet. Her gaze found the bed and she recoiled with disgust. She didn’t want to think about it, him, or what they’d done on it. Not now she knew this was all a game to him, that it didn’t mean anything.
“Fucking idiot,” she muttered, kicking herself mentally. “What did you think this was…the romance of the damn century?”
Keys. She needed her keys. And her cell. Spotting both on the dresser, she grabbed them and snatched up a hoodie as she shoved her feet into some sneakers. Screw anything else, she didn’t need it. Lucy’s place was less than ten minutes away and with her credit cards tucked into the back of her phone case, she could just buy anything she needed.
Except a bandage for her broken heart.
*
“No one needs to know about Honor,” Baron said in a firm voice, looking his brother in the eyes so he would know Baron meant business. Otherwise, god alone knew what Duke would do. Probably hire a plane to announce in the bloody sky that Baron had found his mate.
His brother looked up from tying a bandage around his upper arm. Along with almost decapitating a redcap, Honor had also managed to clip Duke with a silver bullet, right as he was at his most vulnerable switching forms.
“They don’t?” Duke cocked an eyebrow and used his teeth to help tie the dressing off. “So how you going to keep that one quiet?”
“Not forever, idjit.” Baron shook his head in frustration. “Just until this case is over. Someone’s already got designs on her life, so if they find out she’s a dragon-mate as well….”
He trailed off to let that thought sink into his brother’s sometimes thick head. Dragon-mates were rare, but often cited in magical spells as a potent source of power. The trouble was, most spells didn’t call for the whole dragon-mate, just their hearts-blood. Since most dragon-mates were dragons themselves, they tended to get real pissed if anyone tried that. But with Honor being human, she had very little protection against the level of badassery that would be looking for such a spell component.
The sound of his cell going off with a loud jangle made them both jump, on their feet and looking around for the first assailant within a second. When he realized, Baron chuckled in relief and pulled his cell phone free. The name on the screen wiped the grin right from his face. Swiping his thumb over the screen, he answered it.
“Hey, Iliona. What’s up?” He didn’t bother with niceties. If the boss-lady was calling in the early hours of the morning, then shit was serious.
Likewise, Iliona didn’t waste words. “Baron, do you have Duke with you?”
“Yeah, looking at his ugly mug now.” Duke blew kisses so Baron extended his middle finger and turned away.
“Good. Right, listen carefully. I need you to get Honor and get her out of there.” Baron stilled, the deadly serious tone in Iliona’s voice driving chills up his spine. “We got hold of your guard, he wasn’t just done over, he was beaten half to death. Been in a coma for weeks. We got one of the mystics to dream-walk with him and, long story short, we have a bead on the person behind the threats to Honor. It’s Lambert Sellers, Croft’s second in command.”
“Shiiit….” Baron breathed, surprise rolling through him. He’d written Sellers off as a corporate bully, little more than a human with big ideas throwing his weight about, not the kind of shady character with a leash on redcaps and trolls. That needed some serious oomph of the magical variety. “I thought there was something shady about him.”
Iliona snorted. “Yeah, he’s a whole bunch of roses this one. Human, or used to be. Got his fingers in some real dodgy pies. It’s this guy, not Croft, that we’re after. We got a tip off from one of the Croft employees that he’s at their head offices now, and something serious is going down. I’m dispatching teams now, but given his threats to Honor, I suggest you get her out of there. I don’t care where you two take her, just keep her safe.”
Baron nodded, even though Iliona couldn’t see him and motioned to Duke that they were going to be rolling. “We’re on it. Going radio silent as of now. We’ll contact you when we’ve picked up some disposable pay and go cells.”
“Got it. Good luck,” and with that she cut the line.
Baron pocketed the phone and looked at his brother. “We’re going silent running. It’s Sellers after Honor so the boss lady wants her out of the picture, stat.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Duke nodded, then his eyes unfocused as he searched the surrounding area. “Just one problem. Your lady love isn’t in the house.”
“What?” Baron stopped mid stride, his hand already reaching for the door handle. His heart stilled in his chest at Duke’s words, icy fingers of fear wrapping around the organ and squeezing. Had Sellers somehow managed to get someone in the house to take her? “What do you mean she’s not in the house? Find her.
Now
.”
***
Five minutes later, Baron was forced to admit that his brother was right. As soon as he’d extended his senses, his dragon on the verge of panic, he’d known. The warmth of her presence, so integral to his soul and peace of mind, was gone. Only an emptiness remained where it had been, but the human part of his mind, the rational part, insisted on a sweep of the house and grounds anyway in case she was lying injured somewhere.
“That explains how she left the house,” Duke commented as the pair stood in front of Honor’s car. It stood in the middle of the drive, engine idling and lights on, in front of the still closed gates out onto the public highway.
“No shit, Sherlock. Any other pearls of wisdom to impart?”
A growl rose in the back of Baron’s throat. Brushing off the fact that she had been leaving, right now that fact wasn’t important, he focused on the facts in front of him. Honor was gone, her car left running and open, which meant one thing. She’d been taken.
“Shit, shit, and
shit
.” Pulling the cell from his pocket, he hit the last number on the log and held it to his ear. “Iliona, Honor’s been taken.”
Wincing, he waited for the outburst from the other end of the line. Iliona had a set of lungs on her when she was pissed, not that he didn’t deserve it for losing their primary…and his mate. But the little human didn’t yell at him. Instead her voice was no-nonsense and business-like.
“Crap, not good. Any idea who took her?”
Duke was the one who answered, his preternatural hearing picking up the conversation as easily as though he’d had his ear to the cell as well. “Nothing in the car. No blood, which means she’s alive.”
Baron relayed the info as they both walked around the car, looking for anything that could help. He took a deep breath and rolled it over his tongue as he would an expensive wine.
“No scent of redcaps…they wouldn’t have left her unharmed though. Or trolls…” And there would have been damage to the car if either species had taken her. Trolls had a habit of ripping things like doors off, and redcaps were just pike-happy destructive little bastards. Catching the tail end of a scent, he stopped, turning his head this way and that to pin it down. His gaze collided with Duke’s.
“Dragon.”
“What do you mean, dragon?”
Anger welled up inside him, Iliona’s question ignored as his gaze collided with Duke’s. The recognition there was easy to read.
“Shadow dragon, the one Duke trailed,” Baron ground out, his own dragon fighting to be free of the confining human form. Claws raked the inside of his skin, scales trying to push through the thin layer that separated the beast from freedom. “Get people down to the Croft building.
Now
.”
The phone dropped to the asphalt, shattering on contact as Baron let his change sweep over him. The dragon roared with triumph, the sound deepening and expanding as his throat went from human to dragon in the space of a heartbeat. Scales ripped through his skin, the clothing he wore gone in a heartbeat. He’d never questioned where it went during his change, he was just grateful that he didn’t end up naked on the other end like some of the other shifters.
His fingers and toes lengthened to claws, scoring the drive beneath him, as he spread his wings. With another roar of rage and frustration, he launched himself into the air, heavy wing beats taking him up into the darkness where he felt the most comfortable. It was still night, but morning was coming hard on its heels even as he climbed into the blackness. He was aware of Duke beside him, but retribution and anger burnt away everything but the need to find Honor.
Before Lambert Sellers did God knew what to her.
Chapter Nine
“Urgggh?”
As opening lines went, Honor was the first to admit it wasn’t great. The last hour had been the worst of her life. From finding out Baron had been playing a game with her, to being grabbed by a dragon of all things right out of her own car, everything had taken a turn for the surreal. Cracking an eyelid, she risked a look around herself. When whirling, rushing darkness and the tiny lights of buildings below didn’t meet her gaze, she risked opening the other.
She lay on concrete. The light breeze brought the smells and sounds of the city, telling her she was outside and the communications mast to her left told her that she was at the Croft building. That in itself wasn’t so bad. She worked here, the place was supposed to be safe. The chanting behind her however, informed her that she was up shit creek without a paddle.
She’d seen enough of Lucy’s para-cops shows to reco
gnize black magic incantations when she heard them. Her ears tried to recoil at the sound, as though trying not to hear. The words were wrong, an evil sound that sent tentacles of ice to wrap around her spine and reach inward toward her heart.
“Crap.” She wriggled and tried to turn over to see what was going on, but found herself bound by the wrists and the ankles. Even worse, as soon as she moved, blood rushed back into the arm she was lying on. Pain danced along the limb like a caterpillar in running spikes doing the polka. She had no clue if a caterpillar
could
do the polka with all those legs, but this freaking felt like it.
“I think our guest of…Honor is awake. Bring her over here.”
Honor froze at the familiar voice, her breath catching in her throat. Lambert.
He
was behind all this? Hard hands grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her upright. The fetid stink of redcap breath washed over her and she shuddered. Their leering faces, not to mention the glitter of light along the lethal edges of their pikes, ensured the little struggle she had in her died altogether as they pushed and yanked her over the roof. Her lips moved in a silent prayer that none of them had been in the house when she’d pokered their friend.
“Glad you could make it, my dear.”
The redcaps shoved her to the floor at Lambert's feet. He’d changed into robes that looked like they’d been stolen from some fantasy film set. Grey velvet, they were embroidered with symbols that made her eyes ache if she tried to look at them for too long. Like they were wrong, against nature somehow. She bit back the bile rising in her throat and avoided looking at them, looking at Lambert instead. Another shiver wound down her spine. There was something wrong with his eyes.