Blood of Dragons Page 9

  “I realize a favor needs to be repaid,” I say cautiously. “I reserve the right to say no to what you ask for.”

  To my surprise, Harper laughs.

  And she laughs hard.

  I tilt my head in confusion as her face lights up with amusement. She covers her mouth with her hand, and after a moment, her bright eyes flit toward me. When she sees me entirely serious, her laughter starts to fade a bit—but the smile remains.

  “What?” I ask, genuinely baffled.

  “Rory, you don’t owe me anything,” Harper says, still chuckling. “It’s so adorable that you’re always this—I don’t know, straight-laced and serious.”

  My eyes narrow. I’m skeptical, now. “Why wouldn’t I owe you anything?”

  Harper tilts her head away from me, like she’s studying something fascinating. After a moment’s hesitation, she grins. “You’re new to friendship, aren’t you?”

  I chuckle humorlessly, draping one arm over my propped knee as I look out at the growing sunrise. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll help you out, then,” Harper says, leaning back on her palms. “Friends do things for each other not because they have to, but because they want to see each other succeed. Keep that in mind the next time you ask for a favor, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say with a smile, still not entirely sure I believe it. But if it means Levi gets saved, I’m happy. “What did you come to talk to me about?”

  “I came to warn you, actually,” Harper corrects.

  In the brief moment of silence that follows, I marvel at this woman next to me, surprised that she actually didn’t come to get anything from me at all. It’s a surreal feeling to have a dragon Boss looking out for me—at no cost.

  Harper shrugs sheepishly. “Yes, I wanted to check on you before the meeting, but you need to be extra careful moving from one location to the next. We detected chatter on one of the leading threats against you, and he’s moving in.”

  I sit up a little straighter, focused now. “What chatter?”

  “We don’t have a ton to go on yet, but someone is hunting you. A loner, from the sounds of it, but I think he’s working on someone’s behalf. When they behave like this, they always are.” She frowns, her jaw briefly tensing in disdain.

  I’m reminded, then, of just how much Harper has seen in her life. The blood. The betrayal, probably. She’s not some sweet young woman with a bubbly personality—she’s a warrior.

  Only someone with a death wish would forget that.

  My mind wanders back to the man I nearly shot in the little girl’s backyard. This threat coming after me—my gut says it’s him. “Who is this guy?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Harper confesses. “We’re working on it. What we do know is not good, Rory. This man has some serious connections to dangerous people. We’re getting every shred of intel we can, but it’s become evident that he has the means to intercept you in transit. Stay alert.”

  “I always do,” I say. “But thank you for the warning.”

  “Jace knows, too,” the Fairfax Boss adds. “He’s building in extra layers of security. Various cars, decoys, the works.”

  “Yeah, he’s great with decoys,” I say absently.

  That damn second camera in Irena’s hospital room. I almost can’t believe I missed it—but Jace is far more skilled than I sometimes give him credit for.

  “Stay safe, Rory.” Harper stands, brushing off her shirt as she heads back to the window. “And stay wary. A lot of people want you dead, and many more want far worse.”

  I snort derisively. “What’s worse than being dead?”

  Harper pauses, studying my face with a somber expression. It’s clear she’s struggling with something internally, as if she’s debating whether or not she should tell me what she knows.

  “I know you’re not some normal human girl,” Harper eventually admits, her voice deadly serious. All the laughter and light is gone, for the moment. “Even before you became the vessel, you were a warrior. I can see it in the way you move and in your guarded demeanor. You’ve seen terrible people do vile things, haven’t you?”

  I don’t answer. It isn’t really a question. It’s fact—one I’m impressed Harper picked up on.

  “Imagine what those people would do to you now, Rory,” Harper continues, gesturing to me. “These new people hunting you? Well, they’re a lot more creative than anyone you’ve met thus far.”

  I impulsively tense, my hand coiling into a fist as my imagination begins to run away with me.

  “Be careful.” With a deep breath, Harper sets a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Have as much fun as possible, and try not to die. I don’t want to have to put my cousin down if he goes feral—or vice versa. You hear me?”

  Shoulders tense, I nod.

  “Good.” With that, Harper turns her full back to me—a sign of trust. Moments later, she hoists herself over the edge near the window, and disappears into the window below.

  Now alone on the roof, I can no longer enjoy the sunrise. Zurie is pretty damn creative, and her cruelty is the stuff of Spectre legend. Briefly, I wonder if Harper was talking about my former mentor—or if there is indeed someone far worse out there, gunning for me.

  Chapter Nine

  As our bulletproof SUV rolls along a winding road surrounded by a thick forest, I anxiously tap my foot against the floor.

  “This feels like overkill, Jace,” I say with a glance upward through the back window at the dragon-filled sky.

  Jace sits to my left, while Drew sits on my right. In the front seats, Tucker sits shotgun—with a literal shotgun in his lap—as a Fairfax chauffer takes us to the neutral zone for the meeting with the Bosses.

  Overhead, hundreds of dragons soar through the air. Neutral zones like this lift the five-hundred-foot rule, and thus there are dragons everywhere—the trees, the edge of the road, the clouds.

  And every head is fixated on the SUV. On me.

  They know I’m here.

  “We’re in too deep at this point to turn back, Rory,” Jace muses, casting a tense glare through the window. “And with your safety, there’s no such thing as being too careful.”

  Levi maintains his position above our car as we speed toward the neutral zone. The casual flaps of his wings gently shake even the massive car, and it’s reassuring to have him so close.

  As we round the next bend, the road ends in a wrought iron gate. The delicate iron curls along the barrier tremble as it opens automatically for us, and I figure there must be cameras planted in the trees around us—no way does this gate let just anyone in.

  As we pass through the entrance, the asphalt of the road is replaced by carefully laid brick that hums beneath the tires.

  For a while, all we see is a brick driveway and the upward curve of a hill. After another sharp bend, however, we’re treated to a beautiful sight.

  The tree line ends abruptly in the perfectly manicured grass of a massive yard. Lines crisscross the endless yard, interrupted only by the beautiful brick pavers of the drive.

  A castle looms into the sky at the top of the hill, overlooking the surrounding lands like a lighthouse watches over the sea. Easily ten stories tall, the fortress’s light gray stone gently reflects the sunlight, giving it a soft and polished appeal.

  “Wow,” I say under my breath. “We’re meeting in a castle?”

  “Neutral zone seventeen,” Drew says lazily, as if he’s been here a dozen times before.

  Hell, maybe he has.

  “You admit it’s neutral, then?” Jace says, lifting a skeptical eyebrow as he surveys the Darrington heir.

  “He’s harder to buy out than the others,” Drew admits, not really answering the question. “But everyone has a price.”

  “What’s yours?” Jace asks, his eyes narrowing in distrust.

  Drew glares at the dojo master over me, and yet again, they look inches from tearing each other’s throats out.

  “Guys,” I snap. “Stop it!”

  Both men retu
rn their furious gazes out their respective windows, turning away from each other before they can cross the thin line between unspoken hatred and an all-out brawl.

  The brick driveway passes by the two-story tall wooden doors, and we quickly reach the main entrance. As we do, the doors swing open, and a pudgy man steps out onto the grand front porch. The thick columns obscure his face at first as the car rolls to a stop. It’s not until he begins to walk down the half-dozen steps to the brick driveway that I can get a good look. Though short and quickly balding, the middle-aged man smiles broadly in welcome as the car parks.

  “Reginald Greaves,” Drew says before I can ask the question. “Owner and caretaker.”

  “Let’s go say hi,” I quip.

  Jace throws the door open. In seconds, he’s standing on the brick, surveying the world around us as if Reginald isn’t even there. Apparently satisfied, he offers me a hand, never once looking my way.

  Jace is in full fighter-mode. It seems like conversation will have to wait.

  I take his hand, mostly just to indulge him, and hop out of the car. After such a long ride, I take the moment to stretch my neck as I take in the sky full of dragons above me. There are easily three hundred, and it’s eerily reminiscent of the swarm above the pit when I first acquired my new powers.

  Oh joy.

  “Welcome!” the caretaker says cheerily. “My name is Reginald Greaves. Please, though, call me Reggie,” he insists, shaking my hand and affectionately setting his other palm on top of our joined fists.

  The corners of my mouth tilt upward as I survey the caretaker. It takes a strong man to not be fazed by hundreds of dragons swirling overhead. I suspect there’s more to Reggie than meets the eye.

  “Nice to meet you, Reggie,” I say with a polite nod, surprised that I mean it.

  Drew’s door slams shut, followed shortly thereafter by Tucker’s. The men join us at the front entrance, and Jace signals for the SUV to carry on. It rumbles to life and drives off.

  Tucker’s shotgun rests casually against his shoulder as he looks around at the expansive castle grounds and whistles, clearly impressed.

  “Oh, sir, no—” Reggie gestures to the gun. “I’m afraid weapons are not permitted on the grounds.”

  “Are you joking?” Tucker grins and gestures toward Drew with his thumb. “Then you’re not letting this guy on the property either, right? I mean, just look at him.”

  “I’m not as easy to win over as Jace is,” Drew says, though he doesn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face.

  Reggie frowns. “Sir, you don’t understand. I must insist—”

  “Reggie. My dude.” Tucker lowers the gun, pointing it toward the grass. “I am a human in an ocean of dragons. There’s no way in hell I’m going in unequipped.”

  “Oh!” Reggie’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You’re human? Well of course! Come, come. Let’s get you all situated.”

  Reggie trots up the stairs, and I smirk. “That was easy,” I say under my breath.

  “Yeah,” Tucker admits with a nod. “I thought I’d have to smuggle them in. I should’ve brought way more.”

  I laugh.

  Without a word, Jace sets his hand between my shoulder blades and ushers me up the stairs. His eyes scan the world around us as if he’s expecting an army to charge us at any moment. Pushy and impatient as he is, I resist the impulse to bat his hand away.

  He’s stressed. We all are.

  The four of us follow Reggie at a short distance as he charges through the main hall of the opulent castle. Though Tucker is instantly captivated by the golden chandeliers and priceless artwork set on display every ten feet or so, I scan the building for weaknesses.

  Exits. Entrances. Possible secret doors. Obvious doors. Windows.

  The works.

  My training kicks in, and I strain my ears to listen for any hints of activity in the vast building. The clatter of pans filters through a crack in a nearby door, and I catch the roiling flame of a massive stove. The sweet smell of cakes wafts through the opening, and I figure they’re preparing for quite the feast.

  After all, there’s more than a few officials here. I wonder if Reggie has to feed the armies hiding in the forests, too, or if that’s the responsibility of each Boss.

  Hell, I wonder if he even knows about them.

  “We’ve prepared our most elegant villa for you, Miss Quinn,” he says with a reassuring smile over his shoulder.

  My smile, however, falls.

  He knows my last name.

  My jaw tenses impulsively as I look away, frustrated. So much of my life is public, now. Commonplace and well-known.

  Harper was right. I prefer my shadows to the spotlight.

  “I’m trusting you two,” I say quietly to Jace and Drew, who walk on either side of me.

  “It’s well-placed trust,” Drew assures me, carefully surveying the walls around us. “In me, anyway.”

  “Cute,” Jace snaps, not bothering to look at the Darrington on the other side of me.

  I sigh.

  Just focus, Rory.

  I can do this.

  “As I’m sure you know, this is a unique location.” Reggie grins as he gestures to the grandeur around him with a broad sweep of his arm. “We are one of the few truly neutral zones in the world.”

  Drew and I share a doubtful glance.

  “That’s lovely,” I say, trying my best to imitate regal women I’ve seen on television before.

  It comes out a little more sarcastic than regal, but I guess it’ll do.

  Jace elbows me in the side, a slightly annoyed expression on his face—so, no, I guess it didn’t work after all.

  I blow an annoyed raspberry and look away. I guess I’ll just stick to my cutting sarcasm, then.

  Reggie truly doesn’t seem fazed by anything, however. If he even heard me, he doesn’t acknowledge my tone. He leads us to a set of elegant double doors at the end of the hall, their glass panes covered with white silk. The sunlight outside shines through, illuminating the soft fabric like the sun through a cloud.

  He pauses, smiling at us over his shoulder. “Welcome to my home.”

  As Reggie throws open the doors, he reveals a sprawling estate that rivals any king’s palace. The balcony leans out over an elaborate rose garden littered with fountains and paved walkways. The rolling hills beyond seem to go on forever, only ending at least a mile away in a dense forest. Ten villas dot the expansive landscape, each at least three stories tall and built from the same soft stone as the main castle.

  To my surprise, two hundred soldiers in the dojo’s black and yellow uniform line the stairs leading down to the gardens below. They salute as Jace walks onto the balcony, each of them standing at attention as their commander joins them.

  “Wow,” I say under my breath.

  I didn’t think this place could be any more beautiful, but I was clearly wrong. Though Tucker and I share the same astounded expression, Drew looks bored. Jace surveys the landscape, tensed and ready for war.

  “Please, this way,” Reggie says with a gesture toward the stairs. We follow him down to the gardens, toward the primary villa at the center of the field.

  Oh, fantastic. I’m in the middle of the damn field, where there’s absolutely no chance of going anywhere undetected.

  Freaking delightful.

  “While you’re here, you have full access to the castle,” Reggie explains as we walk past the immobile soldiers. Looking at him, you’d think this was just a normal Friday for him.

  Well, given his line of work, it very well may be.

  “Meals are at eight, noon, and seven,” he says casually. “However, you are my most valued guests, and the kitchens will happily make you anything you desire at any time, day or night.”

  “Oh, man,” Tucker says with a grin, patting his stomach in anticipation. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”

  “Tucker,” Jace chides.

  “My one request,” Reggie adds, “is that you not go int
o the north wing. That’s my private residence.” The caretaker smiles warmly over his shoulder as he nears the villa closest to the castle.

  “Jace, why didn’t you give me a whole wing?” Tucker pouts. “All I got was a suite.”

  I grin. “You’re really pushing your luck with him right now. You know that, right?”

  Tucker winks at me.

  Oh, he knows.

  “Here you are.” Reggie types a code on a small pad by the doorknob, and I instinctively watch him to get the combination.

  Old habits.

  A little light on the pad flashes green, and an embedded lock slides loose. He holds open the door to the villa for us. “Your private codes are on the kitchen counter, along with a few small tokens of our appreciation for staying with us.”

  The door opens to a massive foyer and a golden chandelier overhead. Farther into the enormous cottage, I find an elaborate kitchen and sprawling living room, ending in a sliding glass door currently draped with more glowing white silk. Doors branch off on either side of us, likely bedrooms or other sitting areas, and a set of stairs in the far left corner curls upward to the second floor.

  On the kitchen counter, gift baskets filled with chocolates and cheeses offer a wide array of delicacies I’ve only dreamt of up until now. Tucker heads there first, digging through the baskets almost without a moment’s pause.

  “This will do,” I say under my breath, resisting the impulse to whistle in delight at the sheer beauty of the place.

  I can’t be won over with a few baubles, though, and I instantly begin to scan for cameras or hiding places.

  None of us can be too careful, even in a supposed neutral zone.

  “Thank you,” Jace says curtly once the rest of us are through. “That’ll be all for today, Mr. Greaves.”

  “Of course, sir,” Reggie says with another broad smile. “Festivities begin tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

  I laugh humorlessly. “Festivities, huh? Is that what we’re calling them, now?”

  For the first time, Reggie’s smile falters, and his confused gaze shifts between me and Jace. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Nothing,” I say with a tense sigh. “Never mind.”