Drakon's Prey (Blood of the Drakon)

by N. J. Walters

  His gaze narrowed and he took a step toward her. “And why would you think that?”

  She laughed, and there was a slight hysterical tinge to it. Her entire body was numb. She knew her fingernails were digging into her palms, but she couldn’t feel any pain. She’d always known she wouldn’t have a long life, but until this moment, she’d always had hope.

  “You kidnapped me and made sure there was no trace of me left behind. What else could it mean? Tell me this first—did my sister send you, or do you work for another member of the Knights?”

  …

  Tarrant was confused. Not a state of mind he was used to dealing with. His body reacted to Valeriya’s closeness. Every muscle was taut, and there was no disguising his arousal. Thankfully, the kitchen island was hiding that rather large fact from his guest. Otherwise, she might have run screaming.

  As it was, she was terrified. He could smell her fear and see the fast fluttering of the pulse in her neck. In spite of that, she faced him. She was braver than most men, given the situation.

  Maybe she thought she could talk her way out of here if her sister had sent him? Or maybe not, given the fact she thought he was going to kill her. Why would she think her sister would send someone to kill her?

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. She was no longer wearing a coat or wrapped in a sleeping bag. For the first time, he could get a better idea of what she looked like. His assessment of her had been correct. Valeriya was a curvy woman with ample breasts and hips.

  His cock punched against the front of his jeans. He ignored the unruly appendage and continued to study her. Her skin was like porcelain, her lips full and rosy. The color of her eyes seemed richer, deeper than it had through the lens of the security cameras.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  Tarrant shrugged. “I have no plans to kill you.” When she visibly relaxed, he added, “Yet.”

  His dragon wasn’t happy with him, but he wasn’t about to take anything at face value. “You hungry?”

  Valeriya looked at him like he was out of his mind. And he very well might be. Taking her had been a huge risk, but one he couldn’t regret.

  “You tell me you have no plans to kill me. At least not yet. And then you want to know if I’m hungry?”

  He nodded.

  She rubbed her hands over her face. “You’re either the most cold-blooded man I’ve ever met, or you’re crazy. Either way, I’m screwed.”

  “Why are you here?” he demanded, trying to catch her off guard.

  “Since I don’t know where here is, I can’t tell you. You tell me. You’re the one who brought me here.”

  Tarrant felt like kicking himself for his slip. “I meant, why were you at the cabin? It’s in the middle of nowhere and not easy to find unless you know where to look.”

  She tucked her hands into the pockets of the hoodie she was wearing and shrugged. “I was doing research for my book. I’m a children’s author.” She removed one hand from her pocket and motioned to the sketchbook on the counter. “You’ve already seen my drawings.”

  That was the truth as far as it went, but not the whole truth. “How did you find the cabin?” Tarrant started to walk toward her. When he rounded the island, her eyes widened. She took several steps back until she hit the wall behind her.

  Valeriya shook her head. “I won’t tell you. I won’t tell you anything. I won’t be party to hurting an innocent person.”

  He stopped in front of her and looked down into her frightened but defiant green eyes. “No one is innocent.” That was a lesson he’d learned a long time ago.

  “You can’t believe that.” She seemed shocked, which ironically made her seem more innocent in his eyes.

  “And you can’t be that naive.” He was angry at the Knights for what they’d done. And he was angry because Valeriya was starting to seem as though she was exactly what she presented herself to be—a children’s writer who had the misfortune of being born into a family that was a part of the Knights of the Dragon.

  “I’m not naive. I just know not everyone is driven by the desire for power and money.”

  Tarrant caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. She didn’t try to pull away, realizing it was futile. No, instead she tilted her chin higher and glared at him.

  Damned if he didn’t like her. He didn’t trust her, but he did admire her courage. “You’ve lived a charmed life if you believe that.”

  Her entire demeanor changed and became tinged with sadness. “No. It’s because I haven’t lived a charmed life that I believe it.”

  Taken aback, Tarrant softened his grip and lightly ran the back of his knuckles over her cheek. Her skin was soft, and he caught the slightest hint of lavender, either her soap or lotion.

  “What am I going to do with you?” He hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud. It was rhetorical anyway. He knew he was going to keep her. He couldn’t release her now, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

  “You can let me go. I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. Tarrant almost believed her, but it was too late—for both of them.

  He sighed and stepped away before he did something really stupid, like kiss her. His dragon roared to life inside him, liking that idea immensely. Shit, he was going to be stupid.

  Before he could gain a foothold of sanity and stop himself, he leaned down and grazed his lips over hers. She sucked in a deep breath and held herself perfectly still. She tasted sweet with a hint of mint. He dragged his tongue over her bottom lip, and she sucked in a breath.

  He slipped his tongue inside and groaned as he sank into her heat. He’d kissed hundreds of women over the course of his lifetime, but never had one affected him this deeply.

  It took him a second to realize she had her hands on his chest and was pushing him away, or at least trying to. His blood ran cold, and he pulled back. Never had he kissed an unwilling woman.

  Her lips were moist, her cheeks flushed. And her pupils were dilated. She might deny it, but she wasn’t totally unwilling.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Damned if I know,” he answered honestly. He abruptly turned and stalked back over to the counter. He needed something to do so he’d feed her. Maybe some food would help loosen her tongue.

  …

  Valeriya brought her fingers to her lips and touched them. Just as quickly, she pulled her hand away. Thankfully, her captor hadn’t noticed. He was busy pulling pans out of the cupboard. Her lips still tingled and her entire body was suffused with heat.

  She still couldn’t believe he’d kissed her. Was it a tactic to get her to talk? That dispersed most of the heat in a hurry. Did he think her so lonely, so needy that a kiss or two would make her spill her secrets? Not that she really had many, but he didn’t know that.

  She could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers, the gentle slide of his tongue into her mouth. It was the best kiss she’d ever experienced. She wasn’t sure what that said about her and her choice of men in the past.

  “What’s your name?” she suddenly demanded. She’d kissed him and didn’t even know his name.

  He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out several packages.

  “Hey.” She knew it was crazy to demand anything from this man, but she was past all caution. “I asked you a question.”

  “And if I answer it, you’ll never be able to leave here.” The way he said it, with little inflection, stopped her in her tracks.

  It was a variation of “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” It was used in the movies all the time, but Valeriya didn’t think this man was joking. “We both know I’m never getting out of here anyway, so why don’t you tell me who you are?” Maybe if she befriended him, she could get him to release her.

  And then where would she go? The Knights were everywhere.

  She swayed as her knees went weak. All she’d wanted to do was warn Darius Varkas about the Knights and go back home to her life. Now she feared she was truly going to die.
/>
  “What the hell?” Her captor was around the counter and caught her before she hit the floor. He scooped her up as though she weighed nothing and set her on one of the stools on the far side of the island. “Are you all right?” He hovered beside her but was no longer touching her.

  It was as though he was afraid to touch her. She wasn’t sure if that was for her benefit or for his. She should be trying to figure out a way to escape, fighting the growing attraction she had for her captor. She wasn’t a guest here, but an unwilling visitor.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t quite feel that way. It suddenly occurred to her that her intuition was silent. Yes, he was a very dangerous man, no doubt about it, but she didn’t feel as though he was a danger to her.

  Her gift had chosen a really bad time to go haywire.

  “What does it matter, if you’re going to kill me?” She’d rather get it over with than to drag it out indefinitely. And she really didn’t want to be tortured.

  He swore, long and fluently, and in a language she didn’t understand. Did that mean he wasn’t American, or did he simply know other languages?

  “Tarrant. My name is Tarrant. And I told you I wasn’t going to kill you.”

  She rested her elbows on the counter to steady herself. “For now. You said you weren’t going to kill me right now.”

  He swore again. “No one is killing anyone. I’m going to make you something to eat. You didn’t eat much yesterday.”

  “You were watching me.” She wasn’t overly surprised, but it was still a shock. “Are you working with the men who were outside the cabin?” She narrowed her gaze and studied him.

  “Hell no.” Tarrant seemed insulted by her question.

  She shrugged. “What else am I supposed to think?” Then another thought occurred to her. “You’re not really Darius Varkas, are you?” She’d never been able to find an actual picture of him, other than a very grainy black and white one that was taken at a distance. But he was a big man, like Tarrant.

  He grabbed her upper arms and dragged her right off the seat until her toes were dangling in midair. His strength was astounding. “What do you know about Darius Varkas?”

  Valeriya was too scared to speak. She’d known her captor was tough, that he was strong, but this was the first time she truly believed he was a killer. It was in his eyes. He’d swat her like a bug if he had to and have no regrets.

  “Well?” He shook her again.

  She opened her mouth and tried to talk. Instead, she did something she truly detested. She burst into tears. The fright of the moment was too much. She’d always been a sensitive soul, and this entire situation was really too much.

  “Fuck.” Tarrant swore. Next thing she knew, she was back in his arms and he was carrying her over to one of the large sofas. He sat and patted her awkwardly on the back. “Stop crying. I told you I wasn’t going to kill you.”

  Valeriya was still crying even as she laughed at his disgruntled expression.

  He sighed and shoved her head against his shoulder. He was trying to comfort her in his own clumsy fashion. She found it endearing in a weird way. For all his threats, he was being very kind to her.

  “I knew you were going to be trouble the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  She sensed he was talking more to himself than to her. She got control of her wayward emotions and sniffed back her tears. She also fought the urge to apologize for crying all over him. He’d kidnapped her and might still kill her. He didn’t deserve an apology.

  “Feeling better?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. She didn’t think she’d ever feel better again. Although, being held in his strong arms felt good, which couldn’t be healthy, given the situation. She truly was a mess.

  He pushed back a strand of her hair that had escaped her braid. “Please tell me what you know about Darius Varkas?”

  Valeriya sighed. What did it truly matter if she told him or not? If he was with the Knights, he likely already knew about the man.

  “All I know is my sister is looking for him. I think he’s been at the cabin where I was staying.”

  Tarrant frowned. “That’s why you went there?”

  She nodded. “I wanted to know why this cabin was so important.” She paused and plunged onward, even knowing he’d think her hopelessly naive or stupid. Not that he might not already have that opinion, but she didn’t want to reinforce it. “Plus, if Mr. Varkas came back, I wanted to warn him he’s a person of interest with the Knights.”

  “A person of interest,” he repeated. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  It occurred to her that she was still sitting on Tarrant’s lap, and he wasn’t unaffected by her proximity. She shot off his lap and glared at him. “You’re…” She broke off, not quite knowing how to point out his rather obvious erection.

  “I’m aroused,” he stated. “But nothing will happen that you don’t want to.”

  That wasn’t exactly reassuring, since she was proving to have little control and common sense around this man. She’d already let him kiss her. And she’d enjoyed it way too much.

  “So you know the Knights are after Darius Varkas?” He seemed more menacing now that she wasn’t sitting on his lap.

  Since he’d decided to ignore his arousal, she would, too. “I only heard part of a phone conversation, but, yes, that’s was my deduction.”

  “But that doesn’t explain the cabin.”

  Valeriya looked around the large room. Anywhere but at the large man beside her. “There are no windows,” she blurted. It was obviously a living room, but there was no natural source of light. Must be a basement of some sort.

  “No, there aren’t any windows. The cabin?” he prompted.

  Valeriya sighed. “I found the coordinates on a pad of paper on my sister’s desk.”

  “You can’t expect me to believe she was that careless.” Tarrant skepticism was more than obvious.

  “She wasn’t.” Valeriya stood and began to pace. She stopped in front of a sheer rock wall and put her hand out to catch a trickle of water that flowed down the face of the stone. The water was caught in a rock trough below. Where it went from there, she had no idea. There had to be a drainage system of some kind, either natural or manmade. Tarrant had a fountain in his home.

  Somehow that made it harder for her to be afraid of him, which really was stupid. Just because he had a lovely kitchen and this wonderful fountain didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her. The problem was that the longer she spent with him, the less afraid she was.

  “Valeriya?”

  She sighed and turned back to face him. “I realized something had been written on the pad of paper, and I rubbed a pencil over it to get an impression. It was numbers. GPS coordinates.”

  Tarrant rose to his great height. The man was massive in every way possible. If she were going to compare him to anything, it would be a mountain.

  “You’re more clever than you let on.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was complimenting her or criticizing her. Either way, she suspected it wasn’t good. “If you kidnapped me, you know who I am and how I was raised. No, I’m not stupid, but I’m not a member of the Knights of the Dragon. Never have been and never will be.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tarrant never wanted to see Valeriya cry again. It had twisted something deep inside him to know he was the reason she was shedding tears. He hadn’t meant to frighten her quite so badly. No, that wasn’t true. He had wanted to scare her into talking. The fact she knew his brother’s name was damning in his eyes.

  Yet she had a logical explanation for everything.

  Either she was the most conniving and convincing woman he’d ever met, or she was telling the truth. At this point, he didn’t know what to think, but he knew what he wanted to believe. He wanted her to be innocent.

  He just wanted her.

  It was that simple and that complicated. He was a drakon—half man, half dragon. And his more primal half was demanding he keep her, that she
belonged to him. In all his years, he’d never felt this sensation before.

  Valeriya was more dangerous than she knew. He’d have to be very careful he didn’t let down his guard around her. That wouldn’t be easy since his dick was as hard as a rock whenever she was near.

  When she paced by him again, he wrapped his arm around her and stopped her in her tracks. She stared up at him. He could see the low, simmering fear in her eyes, but she met his gaze steadily.

  He sighed and used the pad of his thumb to wipe the remains of her tears from her cheek. “You can tell me more while I cook us something to eat.” He didn’t say it was breakfast, because he didn’t want her to know what time of day it was or how much time had passed since he’d taken her. She wasn’t wearing a watch, and with her electronic equipment gone, there was no way for her to check.

  She hesitated but then blinked several times and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

  She nodded again, this time more definitively. “Yes. I don’t know who you are, beyond your first name, but from your reaction, I don’t think you’re with the Knights.”

  Tarrant snorted and guided her back to the stool she’d been sitting on. “You got that right.”

  She settled on the stool, rested her elbows on the counter, and propped her chin on her hands. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were still pale, and several strands of hair fell around her face, but she looked adorable sitting there in her hoodie, a pair of green flannel pants, and socks.

  Tarrant went around to the other side of the counter before he scooped her up and took her to bed—his bed.

  “So your sister is a member of the Knights of the Dragon?” If she was in an agreeable mood, it was best to get her talking. He needed to know whatever she did.