by Paula Quinn
She took more pictures of him. His gait was commanding and steady while his coattails flapped around his legs like unfurled wings.
She was used to starkly handsome men. Humans who possessed the essence of the ancients were more beautiful than those who did not. Most of the men she knew or knew of had some amount of Drakkon blood tainting their veins.
Garion Gold was a different kind of beautiful. He was less like Drakkon and more like…Thor or Zeus. He pulsed with strength, oozed with raw masculinity that stirred her most primal desires. His every movement was laced with a lethal combination of grace and strength, a lord among mere mortals. He was confident— arrogant, composed and unfazed by her best efforts to beguile him.
“The meter’s running, lady,” the driver advised, staring at her through his rear-view mirror.
She didn’t know what to do, stay or go? She hadn’t thought out her plan of following him. How long could she wait here for him to reappear? Was he visiting a lover, a friend, his cat?
Her phone rang, startling her.
“Just a few minutes more,” she told the driver and answered her phone.
“Helena.” His voice drifted into her ear, deep and husky, sending fire down her spine. “Hello, it’s, ehm…It’s Garion.”
Against her better judgment, she smiled at the awkward uncertainty in his salutation and at the way their names sounded on his tongue. He may or may not have killed her father, but he’d still burned over forty others alive. She had to remember who he was and what he’d done.
“Yes, I know,” she replied, composed. “Where are you?”
“Just getting home.”
So this was his home. Right under her nose. “Are you calling to invite me to your meeting with my brother?”
“No, I’m calling to invite you to”— He stopped to clear his throat.—“to have dinner with me tonight. I promise to be better company than I was at breakfast.”
Dinner? With him? Tonight? Dinner was usually considered a date, wasn’t it? Was the Gold asking her on a date? Why? What had changed since their last shared meal when he was colder than a Yeti’s ass? Sure, she was excited at having another chance to learn more about him—and what he claimed to know. Knowing his address was a start, but it wasn’t enough. He was probably trying to learn more from her, as well. He had no contacts, no wife or girlfriend. According to the article she’d found with his only picture, he was a recluse. He kept his distance from people. Why else would he invite her to dinner if not for the same reason she thought about saying yes. They both sought to keep their enemies closer.
“If I have dinner with you tonight,” she offered, “you’ll let me arrange the meeting with Jacob tomorrow?”
“I’ll take you with me when I talk to him.”
He didn’t want anything arranged because he didn’t trust her. She’d do her best to change that but, for now, she could live with it.
“All right,” she accepted, “dinner tonight then.”
She thought she heard him exhale before he spoke. It made her belly flip to think he was anxious about her reply.
Damn it all to hell, her belly never flipped, nor had her knees ever grown too weak to hold her up. What was he doing to her?
“I’ll pick you up at eight. Where do you live?”
She had a slight upper hand and she intended to keep it. “I’ll meet you where we met this morning.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
She was having dinner with the Gold. The Gold! Everything was happening so fast. She’d first learned of him from her father’s letter, read to her when she was seven, the same night she was told that the Gold had killed Patrick White. Three years after that, she’d seen the Drakkon fly across the moonlit sky and rain fire down on her family, thus beginning her quest to find and stop him. All the years and dedication…and she was having dinner with him. Was it in The Bane’s best interest or hers?
Her heart, drumming against her ribcage, attested to how dangerous he was to her. How far would she go with him to get information?
“Are you getting out?” the cabbie asked her.
She tossed the cabbie a cool glance, gave him her address, and then looked at her phone.
And what of the Elders? What would they do when they discovered she’d spent time with the Gold without their knowledge and he was still alive? Why did Garion doubt they would tell her the truth?
“So,” the cabbie mulled out loud, still pulled over. “You’re having dinner with the guy you’re stalking.”
Helena blinked her gaze to his in the mirror. “I’m not stalking him.” But, oh hell, yes, she was. “I’m an insurance agent and I’m investigating—”
“Hey, if you say so.” The driver chuckled, turning to look at her over his shoulder. “I understand. You’re a young, beautiful woman with needs and that guy looks like he could fulfill them.”
She prayed for strength to keep from slapping the hungry grin off his face. Though she was trained in many different forms of defense, unnecessary violence wasn’t part of her nature. She knew a better way to silence him.
“All right.” She leaned up in her seat and put her phone away. “Here’s the truth then.” She darted her gaze to the left, then the right, and then back to his. “The guy we followed is a dragon with the power to decimate the world.” She smiled and sat back in her seat. “But I’m going to stop him.”
The driver nodded, his grin had all but faded. “Sure, lady, anything you say.” He finally pulled the car away, mumbling as he went, “Poor bastard got himself a real one.”
Helena sighed in the back seat. It felt good to tell someone the truth. Just to say it, spill it all out and let someone else in on it. Dragons were real and there was a chance of them returning. So what if they thought she was bat-shit crazy? It felt good to share it. That was the beauty of her extraordinary truth. No one believed her. It helped in other ways, too.
She smiled at the back of the cabbie’s head. Men didn’t like bat-shit crazy.
When they reached her building, she paid her fare plus his tip and headed to her home. On the way to her door, she thought about what she was getting herself in to and what she was going to wear. She hadn’t asked him if dinner was going to be formal or casual. Were they having burgers or lobster?
Why hadn’t she asked, she thought, fumbling for her keys? Why was she beginning to feel like one of Jacob’s adoring fans? She was doing her job, she reminded herself as she entered her apartment. She was being paid to do it, as were the rest of the members of The Bane, though few of them were active. The Council sent her a check every month for ten thousand dollars. That, along with her inheritance, though there was hardly any left to go around thanks to her father living so long and having so many heirs to his treasure, and what she made as a violinist allowed her to live semi-comfortably. She was by no means rich but life in her small, lower west side co-op was good for the most part.
She had two passions, playing her violin and searching for a creature of legend. It left little time for dating. Most of the time, she didn’t let herself think about it. But she knew what it felt like to share breakfast in bed with a man on a Sunday morning. She liked having someone to come home to or dress up for. Sometimes, she missed being held. She’d been in two relationships, one of them serious with Emerson Redding, a cellist in the orchestra. It ended badly when she discovered Emerson in bed with Nicole, the left cellist. Falling in love was great at first, and then it hurt. It hurt badly. She wasn’t looking forward to it happening again, so she avoided it.
Usually. Breakfast in a diner was one thing—a night out together was something else entirely. But she’d accepted a dinner invitation from a guy who gave the definition of man a whole new meaning. A man who made her knees buckle. A man she had to kill. She wanted to befriend him and, hopefully, get him to trust her and give up his secrets and, finally, his den. But having dinner with him was foolish and dangerous. Even if he weren’t the Gold, she’d be mad to ever think of him in a romantic wa
y. He’d probably been with hundreds of women. A guy with money who looked the way he did would never remain faithful.
She laughed for even entertaining such a notion of there ever being anything between them. She should cancel—and invite him to lunch tomorrow.
She looked across the room to where she’d set down her phone, along with her doggie bag from Tony’s. The phone rang, startling her. How could she cancel, she thought, retrieving the cell? Had he blocked his number when he’d called?
“Hello?” she answered without looking at the screen.
“Helena, it’s Garion.”
She smiled. Did he really think she didn’t recognize his deep, honey-smooth voice?
“I’m sorry to call again.”
She wasn’t. Now she could cancel. Should she?
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our plans for tonight. Carina has been throwing up. Three times already and I—”
“Carina?” she asked. Did he have a girlfriend, a child?
“My cat. I’m heading out with her to the vet now. I’m hoping it’s nothing serious, but I want her checked and I don’t know how long it will be.”
“Of course,” Helena said. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the way his concern over his cat muddled her thoughts and made her skin feel warm and flushed, the same way it had when she’d first seen his cat’s picture on his phone. He was Drakkon under all that golden skin and formidable muscle. Did Drakkons have a soft spot for cats or was he more man than beast?
She wished she could find out.
“Helena?”
The sound of her name spoken on his breath singed her nerve endings like the lick of a flame.
“Yes?” she asked, pulling herself from thoughts of the physical. He wasn’t who she’d expected. She wouldn’t let it be a drawback. She would keep her thoughts on fire-filled skies, not on the soft resonance of worry lining his voice.
“Do you know a good vet?”
She blinked, pulled from the heat. “Don’t you have one?”
“I don’t normally live here.”
Her breath wavered. Her hope faltered. Where did he normally live? She needed to find out. “The Animal Medical Center. Sixty-second and York, I believe. Use the Emergency Room entrance.”
“Got it. Thank you,” he said and then went silent for another moment.
No future plans had been made. A goodbye now could be a goodbye for another fourteen years. “Let me know how she is.” Damn it, was that the best she could do? A vague invitation to call her about his cat?
“I will.”
“Garion,” she said before he could hang up, “would you like some company?” The moment she spoke the words, she regretted them. He was going to think her desperation to be with him was either common or quite obvious. Neither was attractive. She closed her eyes, awaiting his response.
“Yes.” It came laced with a lilt of gratitude. “Some company would be nice.”
Helena hung up, dropped her phone and herself on her sofa, and covered her face in her hands. “Oh, what the hell am I doing?” If anyone else had asked her that same question, she would have told them she was doing what no one else in The Bane had the courage and determination to do. What better way to gain someone’s trust than by being there to comfort him when he needed it? But was there more to her most recent invitation than trying to gain his trust? If something terrible happened to his cat, she didn’t want him to be alone. Where was his sister? Did he have friends here?
She thought of another hundred things she wanted to know about him, the Elders, her father while she grabbed her phone, a small, gold dagger, and her coat and left her apartment again.
He was already in the ER by the time Helena arrived. He sat alone in the crowded waiting room. An empty pet carrier rested on his lap and his black pea coat was strewn across the chair next to him. He looked uncomfortable and anxious in the small seat, and rubbed his fingers over his mouth then pushed his beanie further back on his head. Gold hair spilled out.
She hesitated going straight to him and watched him for a moment, snapping more pictures of him on her phone from across the nurse’s station.
She moved toward him, passing the station and smiling at a conversation going on about him. He looked in her direction and sprang from his seat when he saw her. Every eye followed his ascension. He was a sculpted tower of muscle and masculinity draped in black cashmere that stretched across his chest and arms.
“Thanks for coming,” he said as they met in the middle of the waiting room, his coat in one hand and the pet carrier in the other.
She was glad she had. He looked about to tear his hat from his head and start yanking at his beautiful hair if he had a free hand. Whether Drakkons had an affinity for cats or not, it was clear Garion loved his. Helena had to admit, it was a nice thing to know about a man.
“How is she?” she asked. She fought the urge to reach out and console him with a stroke to his arm.
“They’re running tests on her now.”
She would not have believed he could be any more magnificent than when he was standing beneath the sun, or blocking it and giving her orders. But the depth of emotion in his uncertain gaze made him vulnerable and he didn’t try to conceal it from her.
She offered him her most sincere smile and laid her hand on his arm. “She’s in good hands. I’m sure it’s nothing more than a fur ball.”
One corner of his mouth tilted slightly upward and a hint of levity splashed across his eyes. “She is mostly fur.”
Helena became aware of her hand still perched on his forearm. Doing her best to ignore the real elegance that lay beneath his clothes, she closed her fingers around his wrist and pulled him toward the nurse’s station. There was no reason not to use his devastating good looks to their advantage. “Excuse us. Mr. Gold needs to step away for a bit and would like to know if there’s any way to get an update on his cat before he goes. He’d be really grateful.” She turned to look at him, “Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” he agreed without pretense.
Three nurses offered to help.
Helena shook her head. He didn’t realize how good looking he was. It was damned refreshing. Why, out of all the men in the world, did this one have to be her sworn enemy?
“Where am I stepping away to?” Garion asked, leaning in close to her ear.
The nearness of his size and the warmth of his breath sent trickles of heat down her spine. She fought the insane urge to turn her head and look deep into his eyes. His mouth was too close.
“I thought”— She didn’t look at him but at one of the returning nurses. – “we could grab a cup of coffee.”
“Your cat is doing well,” the nurse said, looking at Garion. “The doctor is giving her fluids because she was a bit dehydrated from vomiting. They’re still running tests. It’ll be a little while. If you want,” she continued with only the slightest tremor in her voice, “I can call you the moment I hear anything.”
Clever, Helena thought, eyeing the nurse. She was pretty, with glossy chestnut hair tied into a ponytail, beautiful, brown eyes, and a dimple in her chin. Was she Garion’s type?
“I would appreciate that,” Garion said, accepting the nurse’s offer while he put on his coat.
His proximity was still close enough that Helena felt engulfed in raw power and alluringly scented wool when he lifted his arm over her shoulder and slipped it into his sleeve. She imagined if she moved even closer to him, he would smell the same. She listened to him give his number to the nurse, watched while the nurse wrote it down on paper. She felt a little lightheaded and did her best not to concentrate on the warmth of his body hovering slightly behind her.
“Ready?” he asked her, swinging the carrier’s long strap over his shoulder.
Was that his other hand pressed gently to her lower back? And was there a button back there that, when pressed, made her bones turn soft?
“I think so,” she muttered. She wasn’t. She’d anticipated many th
ings, like escaping his fire, aiming her gold-tipped arrow at his heart, killing him.
She wasn’t ready to like him.
Chapter Five
“That happens often, I bet.”
Garion turned to look at her while they left the emergency room. He was still surprised Helena was here. He suspected ulterior motives but, right now, he didn’t care. It was nice to get his mind off Carina and why she was sick. “What does?”
“Girls giving you their numbers or asking for yours.”
Instead of answering, he swiped at his coattails and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He tapped it on, swiped to contacts and held the screen up to her.
She looked at it, and then at him and smiled. “It’s hard to believe. I read that you’re a recluse but do you really not know any women?”
He put away his phone and slanted his gaze at her while they strolled up the street. “What else have you read?” And why did he hate being reminded that she was only here to get information. According to Ellie, they knew nothing about him.
She appeared to have realized her error too late, but shrugged her shoulders, delicate even in her down parka. “You like to give away money and you own a club with your sister. That’s it, really.”
Ah, the club. Opening night. He thought he’d had that article taken down. That was where she’d obtained the picture of him to show Ellie. Helena had gone through a lot of trouble to find him. Why, if not to—
“Have you alerted the Elders?” he asked her quietly. He expected it was the first thing she’d done in the lobby of William Hutton’s building. What if The Bane came after him now? He couldn’t leave the States without Carina. “Have you told them that you found me?”
“There’s a Starbucks across the street,” she pointed out instead.
