Chapter Six
Abigail’s lips tingled, and she was no longer cold. If anything, she was way too hot. Vasili sure knew how to kiss a girl. Her toes were curled in her boots.
Maybe it was the adrenaline from almost being kidnapped again that was making her feel so drawn to Vasili, but she honestly didn’t think so. There was something about him that spoke to her soul. Some people might laugh at that sentiment, but Abigail’s inner awareness was humming, much like it did whenever she was near a very special gemstone.
Their tongues touched, and a blast of heat surged through her. She was glad she was sitting down, because her head was spinning. Vasili’s kiss was as potent as she’d known it would be. He was so big, so strong. He could crush her without thought.
She shivered in spite of the fact she was overly warm now.
He brushed his fingers over her cheek again and slowly drew back. His fingertips were rough against her skin, but she liked it. He was tough and hard. There was almost an impenetrable air about him, as though he walked through this world unaffected by anyone or anything.
But for some reason, he’d come to her.
She glanced down at the bracelet and frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Why did you approach me?” She realized she had no idea who Vasili really was or why he’d sat down at her table.
He hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “It’s complicated.” His gaze flicked to her wrist and back to her face.
A sudden surety filled her. “You didn’t come for me, did you? You came for the bracelet.” She’d meant her voice to be crisp and matter-of-fact, not so forlorn. Why did it matter why he’d come into her life? He’d saved her. Or had he? Maybe he wanted her for his own purposes, just like the other man had.
He hooked a short strand of hair over her ear, his eyes deadly earnest. “Make no mistake, Abigail. It was the bracelet that drew me to you at first, but not the reason I followed you when you ducked out of the restaurant.”
She desperately wanted to believe him but was unsure what to think. It was supremely convenient that he’d been there to rescue her when she’d needed it most. How better to make her trust him?
She didn’t like where her thoughts were headed, but she had to be realistic. Now was not the time to abandon common sense, or at least any more than she already had.
“What happened to the man in the picture you took? He was going to shoot me.” She had to know, hadn’t questioned it until now why the man who’d accosted her hadn’t followed them.
Vasili’s cold blue eyes turned positively frigid. She could see the truth in them, and it made her stomach clench. He slowly stood, towering over her. “He was going to shoot you, so I killed him.” He raised his hands in front of him and stared down at them. “I snapped his neck.”
Abigail concentrated on taking slow, steady breaths. The last thing she needed now was a panic attack. Although her chest was getting tighter with each passing second and she was starting to sweat beneath her coat.
She was in a foreign country with no friends and no way out. The only person she could depend on was a complete stranger who’d just acknowledged he’d killed a man with his bare hands.
Admittedly, he’d done it to save her, which she appreciated, but it only served to prove what she already knew—Vasili Zima, if that was indeed his real name, was a very dangerous man.
Her throat seemed to close, and she clutched at her neck. Vasili frowned and slowly came down on his knees beside her once again. “Abigail? What is wrong?”
She was in full panic now, unable to breathe at all. Her heart pounded against her chest. She gasped, trying to pull any air into her starving lungs, but it wasn’t working. The room was closing in around her.
“Abigail!” He shouted her name. He shoved her hands away from her throat and ripped open her coat, yanking it from her. Then he shook her so hard her entire body snapped back and forward. “Look at me,” he demanded.
She could only obey, losing herself in the deep pools of his blue eyes. “Breathe with me.” He took one deep breath and slowly released it. She made herself do the same. Having him hold her and focus all his attention on her helped calm the panic inside her.
It didn’t make sense, but that no longer mattered. All she cared about was that the vise that had been squeezing her throat and lungs loosened. It wasn’t logical that she trusted Vasili so quickly, but she did.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “One at a time.”
“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. Her throat ached with the effort it took to speak.
“What happened?” He stroked his hands over her head and shoulders and down her arms. She tensed when he neared her wrists, wondering if he’d take the bracelet from her, but he simply stroked back up her arms again.
“Panic attack.” She hated admitting the weakness, but he deserved an explanation after what he’d just done for her. “I’ve only had them since the kidnapping.” And they were a liability, especially at times like this. She couldn’t afford to lose it, not when she needed to be at her best physically and mentally.
He studied her a long time before he nodded. “Understandable.” He tilted his head to one side and continued staring at her. “How old are you?” His voice was low, almost gentle, or at least as gentle as it could get.
She hated admitting her age. It was hard enough to get respect being young and blond. “Twenty-one. Why? How old are you?”
“Much too old for you, little one.” He stroked his fingers down the curve of her cheek.
Well, that put her in her place, didn’t it? His words left her feeling bereft, as though something special was on the verge of being lost.
“But I don’t care,” he continued.
Her heart soared, and the sadness and disappointment that had threatened to swamp her dissolved. He leaned forward once again. But before their lips touched, they were interrupted by the strains of her favorite song being played. They both turned and looked toward Vasili’s jacket.
“That’s my phone,” she told him. Not that he couldn’t hear that himself, but she was surprised to hear it ring.
“I turned it off.” He stood and pulled her phone from the pocket.
Abigail shrugged. “I don’t think that matters. My brother-in-law has a friend who is really good at stuff like that.”
Vasili studied her intently as the phone continued to ring.
“You should probably answer that,” she told him.
He pressed a button to answer and put the phone on speaker so she could hear. “Who is this?” Vasili demanded.
“Who the hell is this?” The familiar voice of her brother-in-law answered back. “If you’ve hurt Abigail, I will find you, and I will kill you.”
“You are far away from here, my friend,” Vasili pointed out. He didn’t seem the least bit unnerved by Nic’s threat. She really didn’t know anything about Vasili, other than he was a dangerous man who for some reason had been attracted to her, or rather to the bracelet she’d brought.
She studied him intently in the dim light. He was a big man. A very big man. She’d caught glimpses of a tattoo at the collar of his shirt and at his wrist. Other than that, she knew nothing. Oh, and he’d killed a man and had a very close relationship with a priest, one that allowed him to ask for a very big favor.
“That won’t stop me from finding and killing you,” Nic promised.
Abigail decided it was time to step in before hostilities escalated. “Nic, I’m fine.”
“Abigail.” It was Constance who spoke now. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
She hurried to reassure her sister. “I’m fine.” When Vasili arched one brow in obvious amusement and question, she shook her head. “Really, I am.”
“Then why did a man answer your phone?” Nic asked.
“Ahh.” She wasn’t sure how to answer that one, how much to tell her family. While she wanted to be honest and could really use their help, she didn’t want to unnecessarily worry them. Vasili was right about that. They were too far away to really lend much assistance.
“I took it from her.” Vasili was obviously not in any kind of a conciliatory mood. Not that she blamed him, all things considered.
“Why would you do that? And who the hell are you?” Nic demanded.
“I am Vasili Zima. And you are?”
Abigail realized she hadn’t told him Nic’s full name.
“Nicodemus Wilde,” he replied.
“Now that we all know one another,” Abigail prompted. “Why are you calling? Not that I don’t love to hear from you and all, but I know it’s probably night there.”
“I got a call from the security company I hired telling me they’d lost you and their man was dead. Oh, and there was another dead man not too far from him. And no one seems to know anything about it.” Nic’s voice was steady, but she could hear the anger in it. But underneath it all, she heard fear.
“You do not speak to Abigail in that tone,” Vasili interjected. He glared at the phone as though he wanted to smash it with his fist. She wasn’t sure who was more shocked by his pronouncement, her or Nic.
“How about we get down to facts.” Another male voice interjected. She’d never met Nic’s tech guy, but she recognized his voice. She’d spoken to him on a couple of occasions when he’d sent her the phone she was using.
“Who the hell are you?” Vasili demanded as he glared at her as though this was somehow her fault.
“It doesn’t matter who I am, Vasili Zima, but I’ve already tracked Abigail’s phone and know where you are. Hurt her, and we’ll be making a visit there.”
This was getting out of hand. “Vasili saved my life,” she blurted. The fighting needed to stop. “There are men after me because of some bracelet I found in a tiny antique shop.”
“What men and what bracelet?” Constance asked. “What is going on? Talk to me, Abigail. Please.”
Abigail rubbed her hand over her forehead. She had a bitch of a headache and would give almost anything for a hot cup of tea. “It’s a long story,” she warned them. She hated worrying her sister.
“Tell us about the bracelet,” Constance encouraged.
Constance knew all about her gift since she had a similar one. “I was walking down a street when I sensed it. I found it in the bottom of a drawer tucked away in the corner.”
She hesitated and glanced at Vasili, who was watching her like a hawk. “The gem is a sapphire. It’s special. Like the necklace Nic gave you,” she added, hoping they’d understand the significance. While she didn’t know exactly where Nic had gotten the rubies he’d given to her sister, she had her suspicions. And there was something about them that was similar to the sapphire she’d found. They felt the same. Drakon tears.
Vasili took a step away and seemed to grow bigger and colder. She didn’t understand why.
“You’re sure?” Nic asked.
“Yes.”
“Fuck.”
Nic had summed it all up quite nicely. “I don’t know what to do.” And Vasili seemed more distant with each passing second.
“The man who approached you. What did he say?” Nic asked.
“Just that I needed to come with him, and that his boss thought I’d be some kind of asset.” The memory made her cold all the way to her bones. She pulled her coat back on and wrapped it securely around herself. “Bruno. You need to check the name Anton Bruno.”
There was total silence on the other end, and then Nic began to swear. “Vasili?”
“I am here.” So remote. So very cold.
“I’ll pay you whatever you want to get Abigail out of Russia and away from that man.”
“Who is he?” Vasili demanded. “What do you know?”
“He’s very dangerous,” Nic replied.
Vasili laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I already know that much. I am not stupid. I also have no need of money. Tell me everything or I walk.”
Abigail flinched. He couldn’t have hurt her worse if he’d hit her. Not that it should be a surprise that he’d walk away. Why should he stay when she was nothing but bad news, brought nothing but danger?
She closed her eyes and swallowed back her rising fear.
…
Vasili wanted to snatch the words back as soon as he’d uttered them. His dragon roared inside him, angry he’d even suggest leaving Abigail. But the human part of him was calculating how far he needed to push to get the answers he needed.
These people recognized the name Anton Bruno, and he wanted to know why. He needed to know who they were and how much they really knew. He was almost certain Abigail was innocent, wasn’t trying to trap him, but he wasn’t so sure about these people. If he took her to her family, he might find himself stepping right into a trap.
How much better for them if he actually went to them under the guise of protecting Abigail from Bruno? As schemes went, it was actually pretty brilliant.
That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. He hadn’t remained free for all these years by being stupid or careless.
“Well?” Vasili asked. “Do you speak, or do I walk?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Nic replied.
Vasili wanted to beat the man senseless for allowing Abigail to be in such danger, but if she hadn’t been allowed to travel, he would never have met her. It was a dilemma.
“You would be surprised what I believe,” he told him.
“Vasili Zima,” the unknown man repeated his name. “You move like a shadow in the world, leaving little imprint. That means you are also a very dangerous man.”
“Tell me your name.” He disliked not knowing. Knowledge was always power.
“Tarrant. My name is Tarrant. And if I can’t find out much about you, there is not much to be found. But trust me, if you harm Abigail, I will uncover it all.”
He had to respect the men, both of them, even if he was suspicious. “Tell me about Bruno.” He was done fooling around. Abigail was looking at the floor instead of him, and he hated it.
“He’s part of a group that calls themselves the Knights of the Dragon,” Nic began.
The room dimmed around Vasili, and he began to pant heavily. His dragon wanted out, and it wanted out now. He pressed his palms against the table and pressed down hard. The wood gave way beneath him. Abigail gasped and scrambled out of the way. The phone hit the floor along with the broken wood.
He couldn’t believe it, even though he’d suspected it. Abigail was somehow associated with the Knights. Otherwise, why would they be after her?
“You know them?” she asked.
He slowly raised his head. She flinched, backing away. Whatever his expression was, he knew it wasn’t pretty. Abigail stopped when her back hit the wall. He ignored the yelling coming from the phone and slowly walked toward her. He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned down until their noses were almost touching. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready for action.
Her pupils were dilated, and her breathing was quickening once again. He could hear the beat of her heart as it pounded in her chest. “You know the Knights?”
She seemed to draw back into herself and nodded.
He caught her chin in his hand, careful to temper his strength. In the mood he was in, he might inadvertently hurt her. And that was the last thing he wanted, even now.
“How?” He needed answers.
“They kidnapped me.”
That was the last thing he’d expected her to say, but there was no denying the ring of truth or the way she rubbed her two fingers, the ones that had been broken. It was such an absent gesture, he didn’t think she even realized she was doing it.
His fury shifted, no longer directed at her, but at the men who’d hurt her. “The Knights of the Dragon kidnapped you?” He wanted to make sure he’d understood her correctly.
Abigail nodded. “My sister found a necklace and some statues at an estate sale. It’s what she does, or did. Buying and selling.”
“And?”
“And these people wanted them. Rather than just offer to buy them, they took me when they found out they weren’t the only ones interested in them.”
Abigail was trembling. It struck him like a blow that she was afraid of him, much as she’d been of her kidnappers. That was unacceptable.
He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, and she shivered. Not with longing like before, but with fear. He could smell it, the bitter stench coating his nostrils. “I’m sorry, little one.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the chair. Since he doubted it would hold both of them, he carefully placed her there.
What he really wanted to do was keep her in his arms, but he feared she didn’t want to stay. She hadn’t fought him, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she was afraid of him now, or if it was because she’d wanted to be there.
He retrieved the phone. The people on the other end were all silent, but he knew they were still there.
“What do you know of this man?” he demanded.
“I take it you’re familiar with the Knights of the Dragon?” Nic asked.
“Yes. I buy and collect artifacts, and our paths have crossed. They are not good people.” Better not to tell them the truth. This was close enough that they should believe him. “I thought all the people responsible for kidnapping Abigail were dead?” That’s what she’d told him.
“They are.” There was no doubt in Nic’s voice.
“Then why is Bruno after her?” Even as he said it, he knew. The bracelet. It was some kind of trap.
He motioned to her wrist. “Give me the bracelet.”
Abigail pulled her arm back, as though she would protect the jewelry. He didn’t think it was because she coveted the money the piece would bring, but because she wanted to protect the stone.
He held his hand out and waited, knowing she really didn’t have a choice. The second she set the silver cuff in his hand, he felt it. The pull, the lure. He held it up to the light and saw the etching on the inside. It was covered in tarnish, but he could easily make it out with his superior vision.
He quickly handed it back to her. “It’s a trap.”
“What is?” she asked.
“The bracelet. The stone is special, but there is an incantation written on the inside of the silver band.”
“An incantation that will do what?” Abigail demanded.
“If you believe in such things,” he began, watching her closely. “Then the purpose of the bracelet is to lure a dragon.”
The men on the phone began to curse, and Constance began to cry and call her sister’s name.
Abigail was already pale, but she now went deathly white. “No.”
He nodded and pointed. “There is writing on the inside of the cuff. It is a spell to bring and hold a dragon.”
She stared at the piece of jewelry with horror in her eyes. “How do we destroy it?”
All his suspicions melted away. There was no doubting her sincerity, her fear, or her belief. Somehow, some way, Abigail knew dragons were real, and she was ready to protect them.
“Do you know what the stone is?” he asked her.
“It’s a sapphire. But it’s special.” She was purposely vague with her answer. She knew more. He could see the truth in her eyes. She had such expressive eyes.
“If you believe the myths and legends,” he told her, “this is what is known as a dragon tear.” Not quite accurate. It was a drakon tear, but he wasn’t ready to give away all his knowledge at the moment. “They are rare and are produced only when a dragon cries. Legend has it, the creature only cries when its heart is breaking. A dragon only cries for love.”
He couldn’t confirm it, because he’d never shed a tear himself, not even when his mother had passed on. He’d been hardened and jaded even then, all those thousands of years ago.
“How do you know that?” Abigail stared at the bracelet she still held in her palm.
“I collect artifacts of all kinds, and with them come legend and lore.”
“That’s all fine and good,” Nic interjected, his voice booming off the walls in the small room. “But we have bigger problems. There are people who believe such things are real, and they’ll do anything in their power to get them. That means they want Abigail. If what you’re saying is true, and they believe the bracelet will lure a dragon, they’ll want to know why it drew Abigail instead.”
Vasili knew Nic was right. The Knights would come looking for her and wouldn’t stop until they found her. He slipped the bracelet back on her wrist. He would have to destroy it, or at least the silver part. A drakon tear couldn’t be damaged, not even using his drakon fire. Only the drakon who shed the tear could destroy it that way.
“I’ll take care of Abigail,” he told them. Then he grabbed her phone and crushed it in his hand.
“What are you doing?” she cried. She reached for the phone, but it was too late.
“If your family can track it, we have to assume the people after you can as well.”
She slowly nodded. “You’re right.” Still, she peered at the remains of her phone with longing as he stuffed the pieces into his pocket to dispose of later.
“Do you have any other electronic devices?” He pointed at the bag still slung around her neck and shoulder.
“No.” She clutched the bag close. “I have my camera and journal, money, passport, and papers. No computer. This was supposed to be a trip of discovery for me.” She gave a shaky laugh, one tinged with bitterness. “I was supposed to be safe. You want to know the ironic part of all of this?” she asked.
“What?”
“If Nic hadn’t hired a bodyguard, I would never have panicked and jumped trains. I’d be somewhere in Minsk right now taking pictures, searching thrift stores for vintage fabric, and spending my days walking around the city. I wouldn’t have come to Moscow. At least, not yet. I’d planned to take the Trans-Siberian Railway at least partway across Russia, but not until later. Who knows what would have happened if my plans hadn’t changed?”
Their paths might never have crossed. That left him with a hollow pit deep in his gut. Abigail might have come to Moscow at another point in time, but he knew in his heart she would have still been drawn to the bracelet. Then she would have been alone with no one to protect her.
There was a low knock on the door, and the priest entered the room. He glanced at the destroyed table but asked no questions. “I have a friend who will drive you out of the city tonight. He will take you as far as he can by morning. You will have to take the train or find other transport from there.”
“Thank you, Father Petrov.” Abigail rose and held out her hand.
The elderly priest took it in his. “You are most welcome, my dear. I will bring tea and food later, when it is safer. Keep the door locked,” he told Vasili. Then he was gone.
Vasili closed the door and bolted it, leaving them all alone in the small space.