Valeriya knew she was grasping at straws but continued to search a bit more. There was nothing of a personal nature in the articles she found about him. And no pictures, either, at least none she could find.
She erased her browsing history and leaned back against the pillows. “What now?” She sipped her tea and thought about the cabin. There was something there. She was sure of it. Maybe she’d missed something, some clue that would help her discover more about why this place was so important to her sister.
Since the men she’d seen earlier hadn’t descended on her motel room to do more than snoop, she assumed they’d been ordered to simply watch. That order could change in a heartbeat if Karina, or whoever had sent them, decided she was too big a liability.
It might be smarter to run, but Valeriya decided to head back to the cabin. The door had been unlocked. She’d move in and stay for a few days, maybe longer. She’d work on ideas for her new book and also keep an eye out in case Mr. Varkas returned, assuming he’d been there in the first place.
All she had to go on was her instinct, some coordinates scratched on a pad of paper, and snippets of an overheard phone conversation between her sister and someone else.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re no James Bond.” She wasn’t cut out for skulking around. She didn’t have the right skills or mindset.
Her stomach rumbled again, so she reached for the second granola bar. She could almost hear her sister warning her not to eat it, to watch her weight. She ripped open the wrapper and took a big bite. Unlike her sister, who was willowy and tall, Valeriya was sturdier, curvier. No amount of dieting and exercise had changed it, so she’d eventually accepted and embraced her body for what it was. She wasn’t fat, but she’d never be skinny.
“Stop it,” she muttered. Disgusted with herself, she tossed the empty wrapper. She wasn’t a child any longer, searching for approval from her parents and sister. A disappointment—that’s what she was to them. She knew it but no longer cared. As far as she was concerned, they were a much bigger disappointment to her.
They’d killed people under the guise of being righteous. And she was worse because she’d done nothing to stop them.
It didn’t help that she knew there was nothing she could do. They had followers in high places in both government and law enforcement. Besides, if she opened her mouth and told the police or FBI her family headed up a secret group that hunted drakons—dragon-like creatures—she’d be institutionalized.
She shivered at the thought as she tossed a fresh teabag into her mug and added hot water. No, she could do nothing without destroying herself. And in the end, it would do no good. The Knights would continue on, even if her sister or other high-ranking members were imprisoned or dead.
The best thing, the only thing she could do, was warn Mr. Varkas if he or anyone who knew him returned to the cabin.
Valeriya did the one thing she could to take her mind off her sister and the Knights. She dug out her sketchbook and pencils. She did much of her work on her laptop and tablet these days, but nothing beat sketching with paper and pencils. That’s where her ideas really came alive.
She took her fresh cup of tea back to the bed. This time, she crawled under the covers. She glanced at her knapsack. There were probably messages on her phone, but she doubted any of them were important. They rarely were. The pictures she’d taken earlier today were on there, but she could work from memory for now.
She opened the new sketchbook and selected a pencil. She meant to draw a fairy, really she did. But as she drew the woods, she felt his presence—a dragon. She smiled, liking the idea of a secret dragon lurking in her woods.
Valeriya lost herself in the work, stopping only long enough to use the bathroom. She resumed as soon as she crawled back into bed. She did sketch after sketch, creating a world of fairies and dragons. She’d thought to start a new series, but maybe she could do a crossover with her popular books featuring Damian the dragon. Maybe Damian wandered into the fairy woods.
Her head was full of ideas when her eyes finally closed and the pencil slipped from her fingers. She woke hours later with a crick in her neck and sunshine beaming in on her.
She groaned and squinted. “What the heck?” She put her hand down to push herself upright and something crinkled under her palm. Her sketchbook. Valeriya sighed and rubbed her free hand over her face. She’d fallen asleep while working…again. Wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.
Her neck was stiff, so she rolled it from side to side. Once she was satisfied she hadn’t done any permanent damage, she slid her legs over the side of the bed.
Anticipation raced through her. She had a lot to do this morning. She needed to check out of the motel, get some supplies, and head back to the cabin. Maybe it was dangerous, but she didn’t care. The Knights were watching her. For all she knew, Darius Varkas might be watching her, too. He was either a drakon or a powerful, rich businessman. Either way, staying in a secluded cabin without the owner’s permission was foolhardy.
Valeriya snorted. “Why start being sensible now?” She may have burned her last bridge with her sister by coming here. Time would tell. The only path was the one forward.
“If nothing else, I’ll get a book out of it.” She knew she’d done some of her best sketches last night. She’d even written snippets of dialogue and story to go along with them. At this rate, she’d have the bare bones of the book done within a week. It would only be a matter of refining her drawings and storyline after that.
Valeriya stood and stretched. She’d get dressed and hit the coffee shop for some breakfast before purchasing supplies. Plan in place, she began to gather her things.
…
Tarrant woke in a foul mood. He knew his brothers would argue that was no different than any other day of the week. That he always woke in a foul mood. But this was worse than normal. He’d spent the night dreaming of her.
He swore as he padded naked out to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Once the brew was underway, he went back to his room and hauled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. By the time he got back to the kitchen, there was enough coffee brewed for him to fill his large mug.
He sighed as he took the first hit of the day. Coffee was one of the greatest inventions of mankind. Forget flight and space travel. They would never have gotten off the ground without coffee.
The phone rang as he was considering his options for breakfast. It was no surprise it was Darius. He answered and put the call on speaker. “Yeah?
“You have your coffee yet?” his brother asked.
“Fuck you,” Tarrant shot back. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package of bacon.
“That would be a no, I take it.”
“I’m having my first one now. I finally got some sleep last night.”
“You haven’t slept well since you got word of Father Simon’s death, have you?”
Tarrant didn’t like the concern in Darius’s voice. The last thing his brother needed was to be worrying about him. “I’ve been busy,” he shot back. “Where’s Sarah?”
Darius practically purred. “She’s still sleeping. I wore her out last night.”
Not what Tarrant needed to hear. Not only did he not want to picture his brother and his woman getting it on, he was also jealous. All he’d had were dreams to keep him company. And while the dreams had been hot, waking alone had brought him back to reality in a hurry.
“Not sure you want Sarah to hear you talking like that,” Tarrant warned. “Women can be funny about certain things.”
Darius chuckled. Sarah really was a drakon whisperer. He’d only been half kidding when he’d called her that last night. Anyone who could make his serious brother actually laugh was a miracle worker.
“Was there a reason for your call? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you.” Tarrant put two large grill pans on the stove and loaded strips of bacon onto them. He was starving.
“Just checking to see if any of
your guests have shown up again.”
“No alarms have gone off, but I haven’t checked my computers yet this morning.”
“Wait. Has the world come to an end? You haven’t checked your computers yet this morning?”
Darius’s humor was beginning to annoy him. “You’re a real comedian. I’m going to warn Sarah about your new sense of humor.”
Darius growled long and low. This time Tarrant smiled. It was fun to tease his brother.
“She loves me just the way I am,” Darius asserted.
Tarrant swallowed the last of his coffee and refilled his mug. “Yeah, we can’t all be that lucky.”
“I’m sorry.” Tarrant could picture his brother’s frown.
“Don’t be. At least one of us should be happy.” Tarrant flipped the bacon. “Look, I’m going to have breakfast and then check things out. I’ll call if I discover anything.” The sizzle and pop of bacon fat was making him hungry. “You be careful, and keep a watch. Remember, you’re the one the Knights have targeted.”
“I won’t forget. Talk to you later.”
Tarrant turned off his phone and concentrated on cooking. He scrambled a dozen eggs to go with his plate-load of bacon. By the time he’d finished eating, he was on his forth cup of coffee and starting to feel half human. His pun made him smile. He was half human, half dragon, too. But he was all drakon.
He put his dishes in the dishwasher and headed down to his computer lab. His security rivaled the best in the world. It was his companies that most governments and corporations called on when they needed a system designed.
As always, something inside him settled when he walked into his most private domain. Here, he could access the world’s secrets at any given moment. Darius liked shiny rocks and minerals; Tarrant liked information.
He pulled his chair up to the screen and began to sift through all the data that had accumulated while he’d slept. He kept track of it all—business, banking, politics, wars, social trends. It all interested him. He had a voracious appetite for knowledge of all kinds.
Still, his mind wandered back to his dreams.
He swore and closed his eyes, to better capture the memory of Valeriya. He’d fallen asleep reading her children’s books. He’d never tell his brothers that. They’d never let him live it down, especially Nic.
He’d actually enjoyed the adventures of the likeable dragon who pretended to be tough to hide his insecurities. But what had really drawn him in was Valeriya’s artwork. Her pictures were clever and layered. You could glance at them and enjoy the story, or you could give them a second look and see the hidden bits and pieces, like the owl in the tree or the mouse crouching beside a rock.
There was an innocence about the drawings that tugged at him.
He snorted. There’d certainly been nothing innocent about his dreams last night. They’d been X-rated all the way. He’d had her naked in his bed. He might not know what she looked like beneath her clothes, but in his dreams she was curvy and voluptuous, just the way he liked a woman.
Tarrant didn’t understand the current trend of women wanting to starve themselves. Maybe it was because he’d lived through many different eras, but he liked a woman who looked like a woman. Strength was also attractive. Strong women, curvy women, but not skinny ones. To him, that mean hard times and poverty.
He’d also lived long enough to know every culture and every age had its own interpretation of beauty and it would eventually change once again. Such was the way of the world.
His Valeriya had full breasts that fit his palms to perfection. She had curved hips that cradled him as he buried his cock deep and thrust.
He groaned and opened his eyes. He was aroused again, and it wasn’t the least bit comfortable. And what the hell was his thinking? She wasn’t his Valeriya. She didn’t even know he existed. And it was going to stay that way.
His dragon grumbled and growled inside him, but Tarrant ignored his beast. His job was to keep the Knights from finding out about him, not invite one of them into his life.
He ignored the ache in his chest and concentrated on work. Information never failed him, never let him down. He depended on himself and his brothers. That was the best way to survive.
He’d just finished reading the last of the reports when an outer perimeter alarm went off. His heart leaped, and anticipation flooded through him. Was she back?
He clicked on the cameras and watched as a car drove down the rutted dirt road to his cabin. He focused one camera in on the driver. A slow smile slid across his face.
“You came back.”
Just as she’d promised yesterday, Valeriya was back. But for how long? And where were the Knights?
Tarrant checked all his alarms and put his private lair in lockdown mode.
He watched as the car slowed to a crawl. She’d have made faster time walking. Finally, she pulled up in front of the cabin and climbed out of the car. She turned in a complete circle and peered up at the bright blue sky.
Chapter Four
“I’m back,” Valeriya whispered. She knew there was no one around to hear her, but she couldn’t help feeling as though she was being watched. But she didn’t feel threatened, not in the least. It was more of an awareness than a sense of danger.
The cabin really did belong in one of her books. It was rustic, but the porch running across the front softened it slightly. She could picture it with some comfy chairs and a table to hold an iced tea on a hot afternoon or a hot chocolate on a cool one.
A bitterly cold wind whipped through the trees, making her shiver in spite of her warm clothing. She popped the trunk of the car and pulled out several of the bags of supplies she’d purchased. She carried them up the stairs but paused in front of the door. It was one thing to stop and look around the place. It was quite another to move in. What if the owner showed up?
That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? The owner would have to know Darius Varkas, wouldn’t he? Maybe Varkas owned the place, maybe a friend did. She wasn’t sure how to search property records to find out.
“Stop dithering.” She turned the handle of the door and stepped inside. Nothing happened—the world didn’t end, and no one called out, accusing her of breaking and entering.
Valeriya carried the bags straight into the kitchen and set them down on the tiny counter space. She was being generous calling it a kitchen. It had mismatched cupboards and a refrigerator that didn’t just look retro, but was.
Because she wasn’t sure how reliable the refrigerator was, she’d bought all canned and boxed food. Not the tastiest choice in the world, but certainly the smartest. And since it would probably only be for a short time, she could live with canned meat, veggies, and fruit instead of fresh, and crackers instead of bread. She’d gone heavy on the soup, as that was fairly nutritious and quick to prepare.
She studied the stove and groaned. It wasn’t gas or electric. It was a woodstove. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t burn the place down,” she muttered. No, she would be positive about this situation, even if it killed her. She was smart. She’d figure things out.
She went back to the car and dragged in her suitcase, knapsack, more bags, and one final box of supplies. It took her several trips, but she finally finished.
She carried her suitcase into the bedroom. It was a small space that contained a bed and a chest of drawers. Not exactly the most welcoming place. There wasn’t even any bedding on the bare mattress. Thankfully, she’d been able to purchase a sleeping bag from the local store. She went out to the living room, grabbed the sleeping bag, and carried it back to the bedroom.
“Not exactly the Ritz, but it will do quite nicely.” It was like camping out. Or as close to camping as she wanted to get. She liked having a roof over her head and a mattress to sleep on at night.
The bathroom had running water. She wasn’t quite sure how that worked, but she wasn’t about to question it.
Valeriya went back to the kitchen and unpacked her supplies. The cupboards were surprisingly c
lean, so she loaded her canned and boxed food inside. She ran water and rinsed the old metal kettle several times before filling it.
It was time to face the stove.
She set the kettle on the cast-iron top and looked around for some wood. There was a box with a couple of logs, but no more. “That won’t last long. There has to be wood around somewhere.” After all, they had a woodstove and a fireplace.
She let out her breath in a huff. “You can do this.” She needed the constant reminder and the pep talk. There was a back door off the kitchen. This door was also unlocked, so she opened it and stepped out onto the small back stoop. There was no shed, at least not one she could see.
Undaunted, she went down the two stairs and began to search for the woodpile.
…
Tarrant was fascinated by the way Valeriya talked to herself. The pile of things she’d brought with her made him relax. It was obvious she was planning to stay for a while. He ignored his sense of relief and followed her movements as she walked around the cabin.
He’d seen her staring at the woodstove and knew she was intimidated by it. That didn’t stop her, though. He only hoped she didn’t burn down the cabin or hurt herself.
“Around to the other side,” he muttered.
She paused and then walked around the side of the cabin and off to the left.
He growled with frustration as she took the long way around. Her cry of delight when she spied the neatly stacked pile of wood in the rustic lean-to made him smile. Most women didn’t get that excited when they received diamonds.
Valeriya hurried over and began to load chunks of wood into her arms. She overdid it and stumbled several times on her way back to the house. The first time it happened, Tarrant lurched forward, as though he could reach through the screen and catch her.
She carried the wood into the house and dumped it into the box beside the stove. Then she went back for another load.
Drakon's Prey (Blood of the Drakon) Page 4
