Sleeping Dragons

by Phoebe Ravencraft

  In the central room, a white rug lay under a circular, glass coffee table that was surrounded by a white-linen divan and three matching chairs. God, rich people were stupid. I would be so easy for that stuff to be stained and ruined. It sure looked good now. What about at the end of the night, after the drunks had gotten through with it?

  Approximately fifty people crowded this room. No one was sitting on the furniture. They all stood talking. Most of them had champagne.

  Speaking of which, a waiter came by with a silver tray stacked with champagne flutes. I took one gratefully. I needed something to take the edge off my fear.

  “Good call, taking a glass of wine,” Ephraim said. “But just hold it. Don’t drink. You’ll look like you belong, but you won’t get drunk. You need to be sober for the mission.”

  I shot him a side-eyed glare. Then I sipped the champagne just to spite him.

  Jesus, was it good! It had a pleasing bite and a sweet aftertaste. The stuff practically evaporated on your tongue. Rich people definitely could get superior booze.

  Ephraim threw me a disapproving glare. I smiled. But I didn’t drink any more of the exquisite wine. Big Bro might be an asshole, but he was right. I didn’t need to cloud my senses. It was hard enough walking in these heels.

  “Ash, have you got us?” Ephraim murmured as we moved away from the other guests.

  “Yes,” came Ash’s comforting voice.

  The effect was strange. It didn’t sound like I was hearing him. It was more like his words just appeared in my head.

  “I’ve successfully hacked the security system,” Ash continued. “I’m looking at you right now. Sassy, your dress is riding up in back.”

  “No shit,” I whispered. “I told you guys it didn’t fit right.”

  “I’d take the opportunity to smooth it as soon as you can,” Ash replied. “It’s moving into dangerous territory.”

  God damn it. How exactly was I supposed to do that in a dignified manner?

  “Any sign of Mk’Rai?” Ephraim asked, ignoring my predicament.

  “Not yet,” Ash said. “I’m looking for him. You need to give me some time anyway. I need to record the hallways with no activity, so I can set up a loop to make Sassy invisible.”

  I backed towards a wall and set my drink on a table. Then I smoothed the dress down my hips, trying to subtly pull at it to get it back over my ass properly. I’d just finished when Ash’s voice sounded in my head again.

  “I’ve got Mk’Rai,” he said. “He’s at three o’clock from your position. Currently surrounded by six guests.”

  “Is Williams with him?” Ephraim asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, we’re moving in,” Ephraim said. “Come on, Kincaide. Time to earn your keep.”

  I shot him a quick death-glare, grabbed my drink, and smiled. Then I followed Big Brother Asshole as he pushed his way through the crowd. Twenty seconds later, I was face-to-face with Dirk McCray, dragon-in-disguise.

  He was handsome as all hell. He had the perfect, square jaw that he hadn’t shaved in two or three days, giving him that gloriously roguish appearance. His hair was black, with a just a sprinkling of grey here and there. His eyes were blue and deep – the kind you could drown in if you spent too much time gazing into them. And he had on a tuxedo just a shade too trendy for someone contemplating a run for Congress.

  Arrogance and attitude exuded from him like light from the sun. This guy was convinced he was amazing, that he was absolutely untouchable. Only an overconfident sociopath would think he could make his money in sex-wear, sport five o’clock shadow to a ritzy charity ball, and still run for Congress in a conservative state and win.

  But if McCray was too outlandishly dressed for the circles he was trying to run in, his alleged girlfriend was off the scale. Stormy Williams was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. She had a tall, lean, narrow body with D-cup breasts and hips that suggested an ass more bubbly than mine. She wore a tiny, red dress with a neckline that plunged nearly to her waist and exposed most of those magnificent boobs. For a moment, I fantasized about playing with them, teasing them. Eliciting moans of pleasure from their owner.

  I blinked twice, trying to force myself back into reality. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I forced my eyes up into her face, but that didn’t help. She was lovely – perfect, alabastor skin, long, wavy, blonde hair that fell delicately on her shoulders. Large, blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. This woman and I could have a lot of fun. She smiled wickedly at me, sending me the message, that, yes, when the mission was over, we could get together.

  “Ephraim,” McCray said. “How good of you to come!”

  He extended his hand, and Ephraim shook it firmly.

  “Nice to see you, Dirk,” Ephraim said.

  “Who’s your companion?” McCray asked, aiming his hungry gaze at me.

  I barely noticed. I was more interested in his girlfriend.

  “Stefani Broadline,” Ephraim said. “Stefani, this is Dirk McCray.”

  “A pleasure,” the dragon said.

  He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. I wanted to laugh. This guy was a pretentious, Old World fuck.

  “What a charming necklace,” McCray said, brushing his finger against the dragon pendant.

  Ephraim glared at me. I smiled.

  “Thanks,” I said. “A friend made it for me.”

  “Your friend is obviously talented,” McCray replied, oozing charm. “May I introduce Stormy Williams.”

  She hit me with her blue-eyed gaze, and I nearly turned to mush right there.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, my throat dry.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Stormy drawled, her voice husky, sexy.

  My legs, already squeezed too close together by the constraints of the dress, pressed uncomfortably on my nether regions. The very sound of Stormy’s voice made my girl parts sing. I thought I might break out in a cold sweat if she didn’t stop staring at me.

  We shook hands, and an electric charge went up my arm at her touch. Dear God, I wanted this woman beneath me. The desire was nearly overpowering.

  “Heh,” McCray said. “Looks like you brought the wrong date to the party, Ephraim.”

  “What do you mean?” Ephraim asked.

  “She looks more interested in going home with Stormy than with you.”

  I realized I was still holding Stormy’s hand. I dropped it immediately and blushed. Ephraim looked nonplussed. Stormy threw me a wicked, suggestive grin. Once again, the message was clear. I could dump Ephraim for her if I wanted to. I wondered if she knew he was my half-brother. How much had she been briefed on the particulars of who I was?

  “I was sorry to hear of the loss of your father,” McCray said.

  That snapped me out of my desire-induced stupor. He actually had the gall to say something like that when he was the one who’d had Eli killed? Fury washed through me, cleansing me of the lust Stormy had induced. Eli had been my father too. That son of a bitch had him killed to get to me. I was more convinced than ever that he needed to die.

  “Please accept my sincere condolences,” the dragon continued.

  Sincere, my ass. You don’t have someone killed and then “sincerely” offer sympathies.

  “Thank you, Dirk,” Ephraim said. “It’s been difficult.”

  “I know he meant a lot to you,” McCray said.

  “As any man’s father would,” Ephraim replied.

  “And any woman’s,” I growled.

  McCray turned and looked on me curiously. Ephraim scowled a warning to shut up.

  “Of course,” McCray said.

  “Dirk, I’ve some business to discuss with you,” Ephraim said, returning his attention to the dragon. “I wonder if there is somewhere private we can talk.”

  “Of course,” McCray said. “Why don’t we go to my office? We’ll be free of prying eyes and ears there.

  “Stormy Darling, would you mind showing Ms. Broadline around?�
�

  A wicked grin crept up the dragon’s human face. He knew what he was suggesting. Stormy matched his smile.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “It will be a pleasure. Follow me, Miss Broadline.”

  McCray put his hand on Ephraim’s back and directed him away. I stood looking at Stormy, feeling stupid.

  “Is it all right if I call you ‘Stefani’?” she asked. “‘Miss Broadline’ is too formal. I hate formality.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that’d be fine.”

  Already, my loins were heating up again. Just looking at this woman made my nipples hard. My body temperature rose, and I struggled to keep serious thoughts in my head.

  “Well, Stefani,” she said, “you do not strike me as a champagne-sipper. How about we get a real drink?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I didn’t know why she was fine with me drinking on the job when Ephraim wasn’t, but as we were on the same team, it seemed okay. Besides, Ephraim was a dick.

  “This way,” she said.

  She took me by the hand, causing a fresh wave of desire to bubble up from my groin to my brain. Then she led me across the large receiving room to a bar on its far side.

  “What’ll you have?” she asked.

  “Uh, vodka tonic?” I said.

  “Olive or twist?”

  “Twist of lime.”

  “Of course.” She turned to the bartender. “Grey Goose and tonic with a twist for the lady. I’ll have a Johnny Walker Black neat.”

  Grey Goose? Damn. Not only was Stormy Williams hot enough to melt steel, she had good taste in liquor.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “It’s ‘Miss,’” she said with a laugh. “Do I look married to you?”

  The bartender, who looked five years younger than me stared at her in confusion.

  “Uh, no,” he said.

  “Then you shouldn’t call me, ‘ma’am.’ ‘Miss’ is the proper honorific for an unmarried woman.”

  She flicked her gaze over to me.

  “Kids these days call everyone ‘ma’am’,” she said. “They don’t teach them proper grammar in school anymore.”

  “If someone called me, ‘Miss,’ I’d knock their teeth out,” I replied. “I’m a Ms.”

  Stormy laughed. It was a full-throated, bubbly sound that made me desire her even more. I wanted to forget the mission and just take her upstairs and fuck her brains out. What was the matter with me?

  “Forgive me,” she said. “I called you ‘Miss’ twice before. I’m glad I still have my teeth.”

  She’d called me “Miss?” Oh, shit. She had! How the hell had I missed that? God damn it, Sassy, get your head in the game.

  The bartender set the drinks in front of us. Stormy smiled demurely at him.

  “Add twenty dollars to your gratuity tab,” she said. “If you can remember how to address me the next time I ask for a drink, I’ll increase it to fifty.”

  “Yes, ma—I mean, Miss.”

  Stormy laughed again. God, I wanted this woman.

  She collected the drinks and passed mine to me. I sipped it, staring over the rim of the glass at her. Fuck, it was strong! Grey Goose is really smooth, but this guy knew how to make a drink. He’d gone light on the tonic.

  Stormy stared hungrily at me. I could sense my clothes coming off in her imagination. I wondered what sort of sex she enjoyed. Did she want to be in control? Did she prefer to submit? I imagined taking her roughly. Was that what she wanted too?

  “Sassy,” Ash said in my brain. “You need to get to the vault. I’ve got enough tape to make a loop now.”

  His voice snapped me back to where I was. I’d forgotten he was there, forgotten what I was even doing. What was my problem?

  Stormy continued to stare at me. I was suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

  “I’m memorizing your appearance for later,” she replied.

  That made sense. She was supposed to impersonate me at the end of the party. But, God, how she stared. Those blue eyes crawled over me. Her gaze fell to my chest, inspecting my breasts. Her eyes continued to travel downward, taking me in. They paused at my groin. A slight and sexy smile lit her face. Desire threatened to consume me.

  “Sassy,” Ash said. “Focus.”

  I blinked twice, trying to force myself out of this lust. I struggled. I had another sip of my drink and continued to stare at her.

  “Sassy,” Ash said. “Listen to me. Stormy Williams is a succubus. She has pheromones like mine, and because she is a full-blooded demon, they are much more powerful. You need to focus. You need to remember why you’re here.”

  Oh, shit. Of course. No wonder she had such an overpowering effect on me. She was a sex-demon. A full-on sex-demon, not just a half-breed like Ash. His powers were hard enough to resist.

  I swallowed hard. Then I put my drink back on the bar.

  “I need to use the restroom,” I said. “Which way is it?”

  The slight smile slid all the way up her face into a full grin. I knew exactly what it meant. She thought I was planning to slip away to masturbate. Ordinarily, I’d have been grossed out. Like I would do that in public. But the pull of her pheromones made the idea seem totally reasonable.

  “It’s down that hall to your left,” she said, pointing to one of the three passageways leading out of the receiving room. “Would you like me to come with you?”

  My eyes went wide at that suggestion. God, it was tempting. I tried to find the words to refuse, but I couldn’t seem to make them come out of my mouth.

  “Sassy, concentrate,” Ash said. “She is seducing you. You need to resist.”

  Yes, I needed to resist. How did I do that exactly?

  I cleared my throat.

  “Uh, no,” I said. “I can manage on my own.”

  She tossed back her drink and smiled again.

  “Suit yourself,” she said. Without taking her eyes off me, she addressed the bartender. “Another, please.”

  “Yes, Miss,” he said.

  I took the opportunity to excuse myself. I needed to get the hell away from this woman before she turned me into a puddle of slush.

  “Thanks for the drink,” I said as I moved off.

  “See you later,” she drawled.

  Oh, yeah. How the hell I was going to do that? I would have to give her my dress.

  That was a problem for later, though. At the moment, I needed to focus on getting down to the vault and stealing the knife. I went down the hall the direction she sent me.

  As soon as I’d slipped away from her, it occurred to me that I wasn’t sure if she had picked up on my code. Did she think I was actually asking how to get to the bathroom, or did she, in fact, understand that I wanted to know where the vault was?

  I walked down the corridor she’d sent me, which was still thronged with people. Y heart pounded in my chest. It was too early in the night for anyone to be drunk, so I couldn’t rely on them not remembering me.

  I drew stares from several men. The dress I wore was gorgeous and slinky, and it still had the problem of not fitting my ass correctly. The dreaded Male Gaze followed me everywhere I went. Men would be talking, and their eyes would suddenly disengage from their fellow conversationalist, even if it was another woman, and follow me like tracking lasers. Stares fell to my chest – puffed up by a pushup bra, and the dress cut low enough to show off my cleavage. As I passed them, they would check out my ass. It was irritating and unnerving, and I was terrified I was going to fall in these stupid heels.

  The hallway seemed to go on forever, and I had no idea if it was the one Director Scott had shown me during the briefing. Nothing looked like it did on the map. Plus, it was crowded. In addition to enduring stares, I had to push past people to get through.

  “Excuse me,” I’d say, and a man near me would smile and brazenly look down my dress.

  Some of them brushed up against me, rubbing their upper arms over my breasts. No
ne of them apologized for the “accidental” sexual contact. Fucking rich assholes.

  At last, I made it around a bend. This hall was less occupied, but it appeared to lead directly to the kitchen, as there was a caterer rolling a tray of hors d’oeuvres towards me. He smiled at me and paused his cart so I could squeeze by him.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  The partygoers could learn a few things from this guy. He nodded and moved on.

  “Okay, Ash, where the hell am I?” I whispered.

  “On the right trail,” he replied. “When you get to the kitchen, turn left before going in. There should be a stairway down about ten feet from the kitchen entrance.”

  I nodded, even though he wasn’t with me. He could see me on the security feed.

  The kitchen was large and noisy. It was damned-near big enough to run a full restaurant out of, and it buzzed with workers prepping trays and pouring champagne. Dishes clanked, and people spoke in both Spanish and English. A catering captain shouted orders.

  I ignored them and turned left. The hallway went for about fifteen feet more before terminating in a large, oaken door. A similar door was to my right.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “You should know. It was in the briefing.”

  “I didn’t pay attention,” I said. “I knew I’d have you.”

  “To your right,” he said, sounding testy.

  I smiled at his reaction and reached for the door handle. It was locked.

  Shit. Stormy hadn’t done what she said she would. I was totally fucked.

  Twenty-eight

  G od damn, I was in a lot of trouble here. This hallway was a dead end. If someone came around the corner, they would see me. Then they would wonder what I was doing there. Somehow, I figured, “I got lost,” wouldn’t really work.

  Okay, think, Sassy. What do you do?

  I examined the door. An electronic keypad was mounted on the wall next to it. Shit.

  “Ash, the door is locked,” I said. “There’s a security system on it.”