Chapter Twenty-One
“So this is it.” As much as she’d known it was coming, she’d never expected it to occur so quickly. Her stomach ached, and her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him, but this what she had to do.
Nic stood a few feet from her, peering out over the vast, empty desert. “Oscar is completely certain that Dent didn’t tell anyone about the statues or you. He’s going to collect the bronze statue from Dent’s hotel room before flying back to New York to search his home to make certain there are no notes there, either. He’s also going to remove the more dangerous books and artifacts from Dent’s collection.”
“And you trust him to do it?” That shocked her.
“I trust him when it comes to your safety. He knows what will happen to him and his family if anything happens to you.”
As threats went, it was an effective one.
“Besides,” Nic continued, “the Knights rarely share information, not when it concerns possibly getting their hands on a drakon. They’re a greedy, grasping bunch. As for the books and artifacts, if Oscar is on the up and up, we’ll be taking something from them, and that’s always a positive.”
“But what will you do with Dent’s belongings to keep them safe?” That worried her. The last thing they needed was for Dent’s things to get into the hands of the wrong people. She’d seen firsthand what the statues could do. And she had to stop thinking like that. There was no they. Her involvement with Nic was coming to an end.
“Oscar will send them to a secure post box where they’ll be rerouted several times before being picked up. We’ll decide what to do with them once we know what’s there. Most items will likely be destroyed.”
It seemed like Nic had everything under control. Oscar was over by her van pretending she and Nic weren’t here. She appreciated his discretion.
She wrapped her hands around the strap of her oversize bag to keep from throwing her arms around Nic. “I guess I’ll be going then.” When he said nothing, she turned away, eyes burning. She could not break down, would not cry, not in front of Nic. She’d be adult about this if it killed her.
She’d taken two steps when she heard him swear. Then she was spun around and yanked against his hard body. He slammed his mouth down on hers. She grabbed his shoulders and went up on her toes in order to get closer. That wasn’t necessary as he banded his arm around her back and yanked her against him.
His tongue challenged hers, and she met him with equal fervor. She couldn’t get enough of him, would never have enough. She loved the way he kissed her with such abandon and complete concentration. His skin was warm beneath her hands, almost hot, like he was running a fever.
When she made a small sound of passion in the back of her throat, he pulled away. They were both breathing heavily. “Take care of yourself.” He stepped back and dropped his hands by his sides.
Her knees were weak, but she managed to stay upright. “You—” She swallowed heavily. “You, too.” There was so much more she wanted to say but knew she never would. Nic had made his position clear. He wanted her to leave. He’d called her a treasure but also a liability, a weakness. She was that. If she was with him, at some point in the future, the Knights could use her against him.
She got that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
She kept her head up as she walked away from him. It seemed like it was taking her forever to get to the van, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other. With each step she took, she prayed for him to call her back, but there was only silence.
“Want me to drive?” Oscar asked.
She shook her head and went directly to the driver’s side. When they were both buckled in, she started the van and pulled away. She wasn’t going to look back, but in the end, she couldn’t resist one last glance in the rearview mirror. Nic was still standing in front of his home. He looked so alone. But it was by choice, she reminded herself. He’d let her go.
She didn’t realize she was crying until the road blurred in front of her. Oscar handed her a tissue without saying a word. She took it and dabbed at her eyes. When they reached the main highway, she turned toward Las Vegas and never looked back.
…
Nic watched the van get smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared from sight. The wind caressed his naked chest. The sun warmed his skin. A red-tailed hawk cried out and swooped down toward the ground. Seconds later, it rose again, a small rodent clasped in its strong beak. The bird flew off, and still Nic stood there, his eyes on the road.
He was alone in his remote desert home as he’d been hundreds—no, thousands—of times before. Why then was he so lonely this time?
He licked his lips, still able to taste Constance’s sweetness. She was truly gone. He’d sent her away, and she’d gone.
His chest began to ache, the pain deep and agonizing. He pressed his hand against his heart. Inside him, his dragon was eerily silent. It felt as though something vital had been ripped away from him.
No, not ripped away. He’d sent her away to protect himself against further hurt, further betrayal.
But his mother hadn’t betrayed him at all. In the end, she’d done what she’d had to do in order to protect him, her son. She’d done it knowing he might never understand. That’s what love was all about. Doing what was best for the other person.
He loved Constance.
He’d sent her away to protect her from future attacks by the Knights of the Dragon. If she was with him, she’d always be at risk and so would her sister.
He could have protected her. And her sister could be given a new identity, if it became necessary, a new start in life. Tarrant could have seen to that.
He was a coward. No matter how he tried to pretty it up, he’d sent her away to protect his heart, the same organ that was now breaking.
Nic slowly went to his knees and fell forward, catching himself on his hands. He was panting hard, his head hanging down. He curled his fingers into the dirt. This was all he was left with. An empty home and empty hands.
He threw back his head and roared, holding nothing back. The primal sound rolled across the land like a wave of unrelenting power. Nearby trees were flattened by the force of his sorrow. The loose dirt and sand whipped around him like a dust devil pummeling his skin before taking flight on the wind.
Something trickled down his face and fell to the ground. He ignored it. He sat there panting, feeling hollow and tired.
While Constance had been with him, he hadn’t even thought about the Deep Sleep. She’d filled those dark spaces with her light, making him smile, giving him hope, making him feel. Now that she was gone, the darkness was back, and the Deep Sleep was in the forefront of his mind once again.
He’d have to wait a few more years. He’d keep a watch over her from a distance, making sure she was okay. It would be both heaven and hell to see her without being with her.
But could he sit back and watch her marry a man without losing his mind? He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, but not even the sun could warm him. Even his internal fire seemed to have gone cold.
His brothers had taken their chances and found love. He’d let his one possibility of happiness slip through his fingers. He snorted. No, she hadn’t slipped through anything. He’d all but tossed her aside.
He didn’t know how much time passed before he opened his eyes. He pushed himself upright so he was sitting on his knees. Shame hit him when he studied the land around him. In his rage, he’d destroyed trees and ripped flowers right out of the ground, leaving the land as bare as his heart.
Something glittered in the dirt around him. Rubies, blood red and the size of quarters, were scattered around him. There were dozens of them.
The last time he’d shed a drakon tear had been thousands of years ago. That too had been over a woman. But that woman had loved him.
Did Constance love him?
He had no idea. She’d never said. She had risked her life for him, and she’d stood by his side, seeing him at his worst. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him at his best at all. Yet she’d kissed him with abandon, had come into his arms eagerly when he’d pulled her to him that last time.
His phone rang and he dragged it out of his pocket, hope lifting his spirits before realizing it couldn’t be Constance. She didn’t have his number. Hell, she didn’t have her phone because he’d destroyed it.
It was Tarrant. He started to snap at his brother, but it wasn’t Tarrant’s fault he was angry. “Hey.” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. It was difficult to breathe.
“You okay?” The deep concern in his voice moved Nic deeply. He knew he could depend on his brothers.
“No. No, I’m not.” How could he be okay when he’d ripped out his own heart?
“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 safe, 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.