“What?” I growled into the phone while I rushed through the Asheville Regional Airport with my clothes stuffed in a backpack over my shoulder.

“I just want to see if you landed safely, sir,” Fredo murmured. “I have a driver there to meet you.”

I rounded the corner and saw a man in a black suit holding a sign with my name. Fredo had the rare ability to make me feel like an ass. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve spent the six hours cramped up on two different planes. I’ve lost three hours of my day, thanks to the time change, and I don’t even like flying.”

With a chuckle, Fredo corrected me. “You love flying. You hate flying in a plane,” he teased. “I’ll message Peri and let her know you’re on your way. I’m sure she’ll be relieved.”

Immediately, the image of the smiling, violet-eyed beauty came to mind and my mood improved, if ever so slightly. “Okay, let me get going.” Then I ended the call and wandered over to the driver. “I’m Mishal,” I announced.

“Hello, Mr. Draco. I’m Stephen. I’ll take you to the Biltmore.” He reached for my bag, but I couldn’t in good conscience let him carry it. The man had to be pushing sixty.

“It’s okay, man. It’s light. But thanks for the offer.” I grinned and motioned for him to lead the way.

Soon enough I was in the back of a black Lexus SUV. I’m not a car guy. I didn’t pay attention to the model. What I did notice: people. I’d be on high alert for the rest of the trip, however long it lasted and no matter where it took me. “Are you employed by the Biltmore?” I watched the driver’s reaction.

With a shake of his head, he responded, “I work for Draco Investments. The main office is in New York City, but there are smaller offices around the globe, including the one here in Asheville.”

“Nice.” I nodded. “And what’s this thing I’m attending? I didn’t receive a lot of detail before I hopped on the plane.” This was a complete lie. I made Fredo tell me everything he knew. I refused to walk into a situation blind, especially when lives were at stake and one of them could be my own.

“Well, this is some third quarter earnings party, I think. They decided to host it at the Biltmore. It will be attended by their most important clients.” He chuckled. “I’ve been shuttling people all day. Practically everyone who had a private jet needed ground transportation.”

“So, is this a big party?” My brow furrowed while I took in everything, both what was said and left unsaid.

He shrugged. “Not as big as some. This is a rather intimate gathering of thirty or forty people. I’m not certain.”

“Thank you.” I sank down in the seat, into a more comfortable position while I tried to watch the landscape and memorize the roads we traveled.

“Did they happen to mention this is something of a costume party?” Stephen peeked at me through the rearview mirror.

My brows arched. “Actually, they did not.”

“Yes, it’s a Shakespearean themed party so everyone is in Elizabethan attire.” He peered over his shoulder when we hit the first stop light. “I don’t suppose you have a tux in the bag at the very least?”

I laughed. “I’m not a tux guy. Or a costume guy. I’m a jeans, leather, and Harley kind of guy.”

“We can stop along the way, sir.” Once again, he seemed to be staring at me.

“What?” I groaned.

“Just trying to guess how tall you were in order to speed this process up,” Stephen explained.

I sighed. “I’m six feet, six inches tall. You could try asking.” Then I rubbed my eyes. The travel had drained me. I’d spent three days on a bike to reach California, only to basically spend the night and fly out the next morning. I didn’t see a way I could possibly be more miserable. Then my stomach growled, proving me wrong again as I added hunger to my growing list of complaints. “Do they have food at this shindig?”

“Yes, sir. I hear duck is on the menu, along with a variety of vegetables and pies.” Lines appeared around his eyes and I suspected he was trying to hide his laughter.

“Do rich people not eat?” I frowned, realizing the irony of my question, since there was a distinct possibility I was worth more than the entire party combined.

“Oh,” the driver looked away.

“Yes, I’m wealthy,” I assured him. “I’m simply more comfortable in real clothes.”

Stephen smiled. “Well, we can go through a drive thru on the way.”

My eyes widened. “Burgers. Big. Juicy. Loaded. And fries. I want to hear my arteries clogging while I eat.” I rubbed my gurgling stomach. “Oh, and a soda the size of my head. I’m dying back here.”

An hour later, I was fed and dressed, while we approached the Biltmore. Apparently, all the guests were booked at the Inn and being transported to the estate for the party. I wasn’t ready to commit to staying yet, so I made other plans. “Hey, Stephen, do you mind if I just leave my bag in your trunk? I’m already in costume and feel like a complete freak, since you made me wear it from the shop.”

“You look fine, Mr. Draco. And I’ll add this to my collection,” he joked as I passed him the backpack.

“Collection?” I eyed him curiously.

“Yeah, I’m holding onto a couple of bags for Miss Peri too.” He shrugged. “No one else is using the car tonight. And I believe a shuttle was booked for the airport tomorrow. My services and my trunk are all yours.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I squirmed in the backseat. My breeches felt tight on my thighs and ended just below my knees where they met the hose, which I thought I’d never wear. The fur-trimmed, heavy brocade doublet over my shirt tickled my nose. Okay, I rather liked the fur, but God, these shoes were horrible. No grip on the sole. No treads. I skidded slightly on the pavement while exiting the vehicle. “How the hell does anyone walk in these?” I grumbled to myself, completely convinced I was going to break my ass before the night was over.

“I wouldn’t know, sir.” Stephen struggled to hide a smirk.

I blew out a breath. “So, through those doors and out onto the grounds, huh? No problem.”

“I’ll wait out of sight for you, sir.” He gestured toward a dark corner of the lot with plenty of tree cover.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks!” Then I struggled to find the nearest staff member to confirm where I needed to be.

Following the directions of the staff, who were also dressed in costume, I managed to find my way out onto the lawn where the party was being held. Normally, when entering an event, I liked to take a moment and scope it out to get a feel for the place. This time, when I opened the door to step outside, I was met with screams, shrieks, and people running in all directions. After several seconds, I realized the guests were genuinely scared. Now I had to figure out why, and find Peri.

* * *

“A toast,” Devon announced as he stood and raised his goblet from the head of the table.

I’d been wandering around, meeting and greeting everyone, encouraging them to take seats for the dinner service when he made his proclamation. From across the lawn and despite the dark, our eyes met and I could see him motioning. I was supposed to be seated to his right. Nodding, I mouthed, ‘Be right there.’

Devon gave me thumbs up before speaking again. “I’d like to thank all of you for being here tonight. You placed your faith in Draco Investments and made our third quarter the highest gain in over a decade.”

“Here, here!” Glasses were raised and there was a hum through the crowd.

“Ma’am, I have your seat right here,” I whispered to the older woman who hadn’t left the open bar since it began serving nearly two hours ago. The bartender winked at me and I half led, half dragged her to the empty chair near the opposite end of the table.

Then Devon cleared his throat and silenced the crowd again. “Most of all, I’d love to thank my beautiful and amazing assistant, Peri, without whom none of this would be possible.”

Immediately, I teared up and my cheeks grew warm. I smiled at Devon as he raised his glass to me, blew me a kiss, then took a big swig. I’d finally settled the woman into her seat and I was walking the lawn to my seat when I saw Devon set his drink down hard. I rushed, thinking the glass was about to tip over. Then I replayed the evening in my head. This was his first drink. No way should he be tipsy.

Devon glanced at me before gripping the sides of the table with both hands. Seconds later, he had toppled over onto the ground. My mouth opened, ready to scream, but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe. I rushed to his side and crouched on the ground. People had bolted from the table. Some were shouting orders, calling for help. Others were frightened and reacting in sheer panic.

Reaching down, I touched his forehead. Seconds later he began to convulse. I didn’t have a phone on me. I felt Devon’s pockets, hoping he might have one on him. Nothing. I stood and saw it by his plate. Grabbing it, I tried to call 911, but a man came rushing toward me and shoved me aside. The phone went flying from my hand and skidded across the wet grass out of sight.

“Dammit! I was calling for help!” I hesitated long enough to look at the man’s face, but it was obscured by a mask, similar to the one in Phantom of the Opera.

“Where is it?” he hissed in Devon’s ear.

I quickly realized he wasn’t trying to help. In fact, he might have been the one to harm him. “Move!” I shouted. “I need to save him.”

The man laughed. “It’s too late to save him. You can’t even save yourself.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a gun.

Glancing at Devon, I realized he was already dead. A vacant stare had replaced the light in his eyes. I covered my mouth and tried to stifle a sob. How the hell could he be gone? The man now stood, looming over me with the gun. Without thinking, I dove at him, knocked him off his feet, and the gun slid out of his hands. He scrambled toward it, but I’d already managed to get to my feet. Kicking off my heels, I lifted my skirt and raced off into the darkness toward the tree line. Suddenly, the last thing I wanted was to be around people. I trusted no one.

Peeking over my shoulder, I could hear footsteps behind me. I wondered if it was him or if I was running away from someone who might actually want to help me. Ducking behind a tree trunk, I soon discovered, with the help of the moonlight, the man was behind me.

So, I turned and kept running. There were stones, mostly covered by leaves, so they weren’t as debilitating as they could be, but the pain was bad enough to slow me down. I tried not to think about it. Luckily, the guy wore dress shoes and wasn’t faring much better. My lungs began to ache. There was a sharp pain in my side. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a runner. I was barely athletic enough to do yoga. I shook my head as tears blinded me. Why was I running? What was the use? The guy was probably just going to get me anyway. Devon was dead. What the hell would I do now? Still, I kept running, until I reached a clearing and figured this would be the end. He’d have a straight shot at me if I couldn’t reach the next group of trees.

Suddenly, there were gusts of wind rushing down at me from above. I looked up, saw the wings, and stopped running. In fact, I struggled to stay on my feet. Exhaustion, fear, and hunger were beating me down. The dragon landed in between me and my would-be attacker, then let out a shrill scream before breathing fire at the man. He started to raise the gun to shoot, but the dragon’s talons closed around him, picked him up, and shook him. I heard the pop, like he’d managed to squeeze off a shot anyway. The dragon dropped him, and he hobbled off. Finally safe, I wilted, dropping to my knees, and then falling over. My eyes opened once, briefly, long enough for me to see a giant of a man standing over me with smiling eyes and long, shaggy blond hair. I grinned. “Mishal, you came,” I whispered, then everything went dark.