Chapter Twenty
Nic was at a loss. After all these years of believing his mother had cast him out, betrayed him, he was learning the situation, as viewed through his young eyes, had been something totally different.
His mother had been trying to protect him. She’d planned to meet him. He had a vague memory of her telling him to go to their summer hunting grounds, so he’d gone. It had never occurred to him she’d planned to join him.
He’d been too devastated. He’d loved his mother deeply and completely and had thought she’d loved him until she stood alongside the rest of the village and cast him out. His young heart had been broken.
He stared down at the ruby in the palm of his hand. He’d cried the first few nights alone. Cried copious amounts, shedding precious drakon tears that had turned to rubies. Now he was holding one of those original tears. The rest had been used in the early years to finance what had become the basis of his and his brothers’ wealth.
His mother had loved him. And when she hadn’t been able to find him, she’d started a secret society to protect all of his kind. If it was possible to die from heartbreak and remorse, Nic would be dead on the ground. All these years spent hating his mother when she’d been trying to protect him.
“Nic.” Constance was beside him, one arm around his waist, the other rubbing his arm. And Oscar was before him, a part of his mother, a part of him, a part of his bloodline, the human part.
“You know about the Dragon Guard, don’t you?” Oscar queried.
“Yes.” Ezra’s woman had been approached by one of them. Tarrant was still trying to determine if they were legitimate or not. Nic buried the emotions that threatened to shatter his composure. He couldn’t afford to accept Oscar’s words at face value. Not yet.
It would be just like the Knights to use an opportunity like this to learn more about his kind, another way to distract and try to capture him. He slowly pushed to his feet. “Gather the bodies.”
Oscar didn’t hesitate. He walked over to Dent and dragged him to the center of the yard. Nic was very aware of Constance’s hand on his arm. He shook it off. He couldn’t handle any more emotion right now. He was too close to the edge.
His dragon was fighting to get out, the sheer shock of finding out his mother had loved him—both parts of him—enough to protect him, made the more primitive side of him want to fly and lash out. In his current frame of mind, his dragon could easily cause havoc and destruction that would be detrimental to all his kind.
But he was a drakon, not a full-blooded dragon. He could control the dragon half of himself with ruthless effort.
He stalked away and began gathering bodies, or what was left of them. He piled their weapons alongside them. “Are there more weapons?” he asked Oscar.
“There are two trucks about a half mile back.”
“Do you have the keys for both?”
Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He tossed them toward Nic.
“Constance, get me a pair of jeans.” He kept his eyes on Oscar but heard Constance hurry inside. He knew he was being an ass ignoring her, but he couldn’t function any other way. Any sign of sympathy and he might lose it completely.
“Here.” She thrust his pants at him. He took them and stuffed the keys and the ruby in the front pocket and then pulled them on.
“Go inside.” He didn’t want her to see what he was about to do.
“No.” Her blunt refusal surprised him enough that he finally looked at her. Her shoulders were squared, and her eyes were red. It was obvious she’d shed a few tears. Her clothes were dirty and her skin pale. She looked tired. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d been dragged into his world and faced one ordeal after another. It was a wonder she was even on her feet.
Most women would have screamed and fainted or run away, or at least be in hysterics. Constance might have red eyes, but there was still fight in her. This woman would never give up.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to see this.” She seemed to accept his dragon side easily enough, but he doubted that would continue if she watched him disintegrating people in front of her. He wanted her to view him as a man, not a killing beast.
“I know what you are,” she told him. As though she’d read his thoughts, she continued. “This is war. You have to protect yourself and your kind.”
He dropped his hands and pulled away. He knew he should feel more, but truthfully, he’d stuffed his emotions away so deeply he was almost numb.
He turned back to Oscar. “Let’s go.” Then he suddenly stopped. “How did you find us?” That had been bothering him. “Was it Constance’s phone?”
“I put a tracker on her van.”
“And you lead Dent here?” The desire to kill Oscar was almost overwhelming. Constance could have been killed.
“Yes.” Oscar met his gaze dead on. “I knew he wouldn’t give up. I figured this way I could help contain the situation before he potentially told another ranking member of the Knights about you. I figured you’d live in an isolated area. After seeing you in action, I knew you were capable of handling all of us.”
“What about the darts?” Nic had assumed they were filled with whatever concoction the Knights used to weaken and contain drakons.
Oscar shook his head. “I replaced them with ones filled with water.”
Anger threatened to bubble up, but Nic ruthlessly suppressed it. Either the man was telling the truth or he was crazy. He could have just as easily been killed alongside the rest of the mercenaries. “Get the tracker and add it to the pile.” He wasn’t about to leave it there. Oscar might be on the up and up, but Nic wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
Oscar nodded and went to the front fender, returning with a small metal disc. He tossed it on the pile.
“Lead the way.” He felt the weight of Constance’s gaze on him as he followed Oscar down the road. He began to worry about her even before he was out of sight. Would she even be there when he got back? She could get into her van and go. Would she be all right? He should have put his arms around her and hugged her.
He was thinking about everything else except the one big revelation. His mother hadn’t abandoned him. He shook his head to drive the thought back. Not now. He had to keep his focus in case Oscar was lying. He didn’t think he was, but Nic wasn’t willing to trust the man, not yet.
He studied Oscar, taking in his olive-toned skin and black hair. They had that in common. Oscar was tall, about six-one, and fit. Maybe they were related through his mother, maybe not. If he decided to trust the man, he’d have that checked. Maybe Tarrant could trace Oscar’s family tree. He didn’t know whether DNA testing would help, but he wouldn’t willingly give a sample of his blood to a lab to find out.
“Here we go.” Oscar stopped by one of the trucks. Nic walked around to the back and checked both. No men but several crates that contained more weapons.
“Drive back to the house.” Nic climbed in and started the engine. He waited, letting the other man drive ahead of him.
Getting back to Constance was a priority. His whole being seemed to sigh with relief when he drove into the yard. She was sitting on the front step waiting. It seemed obscene for her to be doing so with all those dead bodies not far away.
He drove his truck right up next to the bodies, parked, and climbed out. Oscar did the same. “You need that truck?”
Oscar nodded. “If I want to get back to the city.”
“I can take him back.” Constance’s offer was like a knife to Nic’s heart. She was planning to leave him. And why wouldn’t she? He’d accused her of betraying him again, had done his best to drive her away. And maybe it was for the best. He was in no state of mind to be around anyone.
“Leave it,” Nic ordered him.
Oscar nodded. “What now?”
“Stand back.” When he started to move closer to Constance, Nic growled at him. “Over there.” He pointed Oscar in the other direction. To give the man credit, he didn’t smirk or protest. He simply walked to where Nic had pointed.
Nic stripped off his jeans and shifted. His dragon, eager to come out, burst forth. He flexed his wings, raising a cloud of dust. He circled around so Constance was behind him. He wanted her protected on the off chance anything went wrong.
Fire flared inside him, hot and powerful. He opened his mouth and released the flames. Like a conductor leading a symphony orchestra, he coaxed the flames to where he wanted them to be, pushing them gently into the openings in the pile. He built a bonfire of such enormous heat that even the metal of the trucks began to slowly disintegrate. But he did it so skillfully not even a single leaf of the surrounding vegetation was singed the slightest bit.
As the fire built higher, Nic gloried in it. He walked closer to the flames and put his arm out. Constance cried out in fear, and he whirled around, ready to protect her.
But she wasn’t under attack. She was staring at the fire dancing between his massive dragon hands, her eyes wide, her hand over her mouth.
It was then he understood she’d been afraid for him. He wanted to reassure her, but speech was beyond him. He turned back to the fire and gave a roar of triumph. He had defeated his enemies.
He knew the second the gas tanks in the trucks were about to explode. He built a wall of flame around the vehicles, absorbing the blast. Not a single piece of metal escaped.
He knew it was time to bring the fire down, but a part of him was reluctant to do so. He wanted to revel in his element. But there were still questions that needed answering, and he didn’t trust Oscar, no matter who he said he was.
Nic brought the flames lower and concentrated them, making them hotter than the Earth’s core. They burned in shades of indigo and violet, orange and deep red. And when he exhaled the last one, not a single shred remained of the men who’d died here, their vehicles, or their weapons.
Most drakons would be exhausted after such an exercise, but he was energized. As a fire drakon, using his element only served to strengthen him. But he was hungry again. He’d expended a lot of energy.
He took a moment to appreciate his dragon side and then shifted back. He was aware of both Oscar and Constance watching him with a combination of awe and fear as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on.
“Let’s go inside.” He walked over to Constance and put his hand on the small of her back. She blinked several times and then walked to the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Nic waited for Oscar, motioning to him to enter. Oscar’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t hesitate.
Constance was already in the kitchen starting a fresh pot of coffee. “You must be hungry. What do you want?”
“Have a seat.” He motioned Oscar toward the stools on the other side of the kitchen peninsula. Then he went to the freezer and pulled out a half-dozen steaks. “I’m cooking steak and eggs.” He set the meat on the counter and pulled out the two remaining cartons of eggs in the fridge.
“You need protein after you shift?” Oscar appeared relaxed, but Nic could tell he was tense. And why wouldn’t he be? He was in the home of a drakon.
“I need more food on a daily basis.” That was no secret. Anyone involved with the Knights knew that.
And speaking of getting answers. He needed some of his own. He grabbed his phone, hit the speed dial, and waited.
…
Constance wished she knew what was going on inside Nic’s brain. Ever since he’d found out about his mother, he’d become remote, closed off from her. Or maybe it was because he’d been forced to kill a bunch of men to protect himself and her, and then destroy every trace of their existence from the planet.
Yeah, she was still trying to come to grips with that. Seeing him destroy the statues was one thing. They were small, inanimate objects. Watching him cremate bodies and disintegrate two large trucks had been something else altogether.
She knew he’d destroyed the warehouse in Vegas, but she didn’t really remember that. She’d been unconscious for most of it and in too much pain to really pay attention.
He’d been one with the fire in a way she couldn’t explain. He’d commanded the flames, and they’d listened. They hadn’t burned him. The fire had licked at his skin in almost a loving way. It had to have taken an enormous amount of energy to do what he had, but he didn’t look tired. This man was possibly the most dangerous creature in the world.
And she loved him.
There was no denying it. She would have died alongside him to protect him. Her heart ached at the thought of him being hurt. But he obviously didn’t feel the same way about her. Yes, he cared about her. Yes, he wanted her. He might even forgive her for betraying him someday. But that didn’t mean he wanted her around once this situation was resolved.
He had his life, and she had hers.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she doubted he’d appreciate her hug. He’d visibly pulled back from any physical contact, and she had no idea why. But it hurt her deeply.
To keep from breaking down, she busied herself cracking eggs into a large bowl while he made his call.
“You’re on speaker,” he told the man on the other end of the line when he answered. “I have a situation.”
“What kind of situation?” She recognized the man’s voice. He seemed to be Nic’s go-to guy.
“I need a search on a man named Oscar Denning. And I need it now. He’s sitting in my kitchen.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
As she continued to break eggs, she could hear typing in the background and knew Nic’s friend was hard at work. She glanced at Oscar. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by what Nic was doing. If anything, she thought she saw respect there. And awe, and a touch of fear.
“Oscar Denning. Born twenty-nine years ago to Thaddeus Denning. Father deceased. Mother remarried. No siblings.” The man on the phone continued to recite schooling, medical records, service records and more. He was very good indeed.
Oscar sat a little straighter on his stool, shocked by the in-depth information being given so quickly.
“What exactly do you want to know about this guy?”
Nic began to unwrap the steaks and put them on a platter. “He was with Dent’s crew but says he’s a member of the Dragon Guard.”
“That group again. Are they legit?”
Nic glanced at Oscar. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but they may be. They know…things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Nothing I want to get into right now, Tarrant.”
Constance wasn’t sure Nic was aware he’d said his friend’s name in front of them. She knew he didn’t have to be concerned about her, but she wasn’t convinced Oscar wasn’t a threat. But it was good to have a name to put with the voice.
“I’ve been doing some research, but it’s not easy. There are thousands of role-playing groups and games that use the name.”
“We’re the original,” Oscar shot back.
She noticed Nic actually grinned for a second.
“How far back does your group go?” Tarrant asked.
“To the beginning,” Nic told him.
“Huh,” was all Tarrant said. There was more tapping. “He’s been on Dent’s payroll for five years, ever since he got out of the military.”
“It’s what we do,” Oscar told them. “We get military training and do our service. That makes us attractive to the Knights to hire as mercenaries. We have people embedded with all the Knights of the Dragon.”
“Why Dragon Guard instead of Drakon Guard?” she asked. She shrugged when both men looked at her. “You know the difference,” she pointed out to Oscar. “You said as much in the yard.”
Oscar dragged his fingers through his hair. “The Knights don’t make the distinction, so we don’t, either, not publicly. Occasionally, we have to reach out to outsiders for help. We have a lot of information about drakons that we protect.”
It made sense to her, but Nic didn’t look wholly convinced.
“If you want us to trust you, you have to give up the names of those members of the Guard you know are with the Knights,” Nic informed him.
Oscar shook his head. “Any digging around in their records will send up red flags and put them in danger. If they’re caught and killed, it doesn’t do anyone any good. As it is, I’m probably done.”
“Not necessarily.” Tarrant was still tapping away.
Constance distributed the eggs between two large pans while Nic set the steaks on the grill pans on the stove. It was almost homey with the two of them cooking side by side.
She wanted to touch his bare chest to reassure herself he was indeed fine but knew he wouldn’t appreciate it, not in his current state of mind.
“Okay, let’s try this. If I wanted to feed information to the Knights, could you contact your people and make that happen?” Tarrant asked.
“Probably.”
“What are you getting at?” Nic asked.
“I don’t know yet, but it’s good to have options.” Whoever Tarrant was, Constance knew the man was incredibly intelligent and clever with computers.
“Oscar,” Tarrant spoke directly to the man.
“Yes.”
“I have identified every member of your family, every friend you’ve ever had. You fuck Nic over, and I’ll destroy every single one of them. Do you understand me?”
Oh yeah, this was the man she remembered from when Nic had been kidnapped by the Knights. He’d threatened her, too. She had no doubt he was capable of doing exactly what he promised he would.
Unlike her, Oscar didn’t seem surprised. “I understand. I have no plans to fuck anyone over, but if something unexpected happens, spare the innocents.”
“There are no innocents.”
“That’s enough, Tarrant.” Nic flipped the steaks over. “I think he’s legit.”
“Okay then, but I’ll be telling the others.”
“Others?” Oscar asked, echoing what she was thinking.
“I’ll call when I have more.” The line went dead. Nic turned off his phone and shoved it into his pocket.
The eggs were cooked and the steaks were almost done. Nic put a single steak on two of the plates and the rest back on the platter. She put eggs on both her and Oscar’s plates and then dumped the rest onto a plate for Nic.
“Let’s eat,” Nic said. He pulled his food in front of him and began to consume it quickly. She tried to eat but didn’t have an appetite. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but she feared it involved her getting in her van and driving both her and Oscar back to Las Vegas. If that happened, she doubted she’d ever see Nic again.
He was building walls between them, walls she didn’t know how to scale. And she wasn’t even sure she should. Nic had secrets, ones he might never be willing to share with her. That was his right. But she couldn’t be with a man who wouldn’t open himself up to her. If she tried to be with him and he kept his secrets, kept himself closed off from her, her love would eventually wither and die.
As much as she wanted to stay, to be with him, she knew she had to leave.
Constance began to build her own walls against the pain that threatened to send her to her knees. It was all she knew how to do. She’d survive and eventually move on. But her life would never be the same. And she’d never love another man the way she’d come to love Nicodemus Wilde.