Celtic Dragons

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Eamon nodded, looking back at her. He was a man of few words, but the look on his face told her all she needed to know.

  He felt the same darkness she’d felt here, and she hadn’t even had to prompt him. All she’d had to do was ask him to come down to the look at the vault with her, and the moment they had stepped off the elevator, she had seen him react. It had been all she could do to wait until Grady had stepped back into the elevator to return to the ground floor before confirming with Eamon that she wasn’t just imagining things. Something was down in this space—something she couldn’t see or hear but could feel all over her skin.

  “The first time I felt it, I turned on Grady,” Moira told Eamon, leading him down the tunnel toward the vault. The guard there had orders from Grady to open the vault for them and then leave the building. “It made me feel like he was trying to trap me down here. All I knew was that I was afraid of what I was feeling—I didn’t know why.”

  Eamon nodded again, his eyes roaming the space as they walked. “It’s potent.”

  They reached the vault and stood back as the guard followed Grady’s orders then disappeared, a disgruntled look on his face. He obviously knew that they were there to do the job that he was supposed to be doing—only better. Moira hated to offend him, but she needed the space to herself, and not just for the reasons she’d given Grady. She needed to spend time there to see if she could locate the source or identify the nature of the force that was affecting her, and now Eamon as well. There was no easy way to explain that to Grady, and she wasn’t going to say anything at all until she knew more.

  Moira continued to watch Eamon as they walked into the vault together, knowing him well enough to understand the little flickers of reaction that played over his features. The tightening of his lips, the arch of one eyebrow, the flexing of his fingers. He was on high alert and skeptical about the space they were in. He didn’t seem to have any clearer idea of why such a space needed to exist than she did, and when he turned to make eye contact with her, she nodded at the obvious question on his face.

  “Yeah, I asked why. He said his accountant advised him to invest in gold and store it in a vault. Something about economic volatility.”

  Eamon’s brow knit together. “Doesn’t track.”

  “I agree, but I don’t know if that’s connected to the theft,” Moira pointed out. “It could be, but the accountant doesn’t read as a criminal. I watched some footage of him today in a routine interview. No red flags.”

  “Good actor?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Moira agreed. “We’re not ruling anything out yet. But here’s the thing, Eamon …I’m not sure it’s a human stealing from here. What do you think?”

  There was a long silence as Eamon considered her question, still walking around and briefly reaching out to touch various objects—the gold bars, the shelves, the cases of jewelry. He started to reach out toward the painting, but Moira stopped him.

  “That’s worth a few million. Don’t touch.”

  Eamon withdrew his hand and looked back at her. “You trust this guy?”

  “Not necessarily. Why?”

  He shook his head. “Gut feeling.”

  Moira crossed her arms over her chest. “You have to give me more than that, Eamon. That’s why I brought you here. He jumbles up my nerves and my senses. I need you to see and think clearly, then talk to me.”

  Gesturing around them, Eamon sighed, resigning himself to making a speech. “This place doesn’t make sense. Why is it here? Why is there this kind of security? How is the money getting out if no one is going in? Why would he not report it for five weeks? Why hasn’t he been down here himself, watching? I would be, if someone was stealing from me.”

  With no small amount of surprise, Moira realized that she was feeling defensive on Grady’s behalf. Eamon was questioning Grady, and she didn’t like the implication, despite the fact that she herself was wary of Grady and subtly aware that something about the situation wasn’t right. “I don’t think he’s lying, Eamon. Why would he bring us in if he’s trying to cover up something?”

  “Agreed,” Eamon said, nodding thoughtfully as he continued to inspect the vault. “Point to him.”

  “But you’re right,” Moira admitted. “There’s something we don’t know. But is it about him, or about what’s been happening in this space?”

  Eamon glanced back at her again, ready to answer, but then he flinched, jerking back from where he was standing so hard that he knocked into a shelf of gold bars and sent it crashing over onto the ground.

  “Eamon!” Moira said, dodging out of the way of the falling shelf. “What the hell was that?”

  He didn’t answer her, twitching again as he spun around. He was staring down at his feet, as though trying to see something there that was almost invisible. Then, silent, stoic Eamon began to swear a blue streak, the words tumbling from his lips in greater quantity than Moira had ever heard before. And as he swore, he danced, hopping from foot to foot and spinning around the room. He began to bat at his legs and stomp his feet, and then he was clawing at the clasp of his pants, trying to shove the denim down to free his legs. But his shoes were still in the way, and he couldn’t seem to stay still long enough to get the pants off even one of his legs, much less both, and as Moira watched in utter shock, he began to shout louder, hopping up and down and jerking back and forth as though something was devouring him from the legs up.

  And then, just as Moira was convinced that the situation couldn’t get any worse, Eamon made eye contact with her, his ice-blue eyes wide with pain and shock. They locked gazes for one moment, and then Eamon groaned, transitioning into the enormous white dragon that was his other form, wings unfurling, tail slashing through the air, and talons scraping against the hard floor as his neck reared back and fire erupted from his throat, flashing harmlessly against the steel ceiling.

  “Shit!” Moira shouted, jumping out of Eamon’s way and feeling the desire to transition with him flickering over her skin. She was in control of the desire though, unlike Eamon, and she shoved the impulse away, immediately going into crisis management mode. The first thought that crystalized in her head was that Eamon had lost control of himself, which never happened. The second was that all of it was caught on the recording of the vault that was locked away in some security office, waiting to be reviewed in the morning.

  If she didn’t get to that footage before anyone else did, then the secret of the Dragon Clan was going to be out permanently, and her entire world was going to be turned upside down. Nobody could see what had just happened—she couldn’t let them. The problem was that she had absolutely no idea where the footage was being stored—and she had no guarantee that there wasn’t someone in the security office right at that moment, watching.

  It was a horrifying thought, but Moira hardly had time to dwell on it as Eamon reared back again, sending shelves careening to the floor and breaking open the display cases that held Grady’s family’s jewelry. He was like a bull in a china shop, none of the usual grace of his dragon form in play as he stumbled around the vault, trying to get away from whatever force he thought was attacking him.

  Moira had a crucial secret to preserve and no idea how to go about doing that, but before she could even consider that problem, she had to figure out what in the world had happened to Eamon.

  And she had to hope against hope that it didn’t happen to her too.

  Chapter Ten

  Grady

  He got to the office earlier than usual the next morning, having not heard from Moira since leaving her and her Icelandic-looking colleague alone near the vault entrance. The curiosity was burning inside him, and he wanted to locate the redhead as soon as possible to hear about what—if anything—she’d found the night before. He also just wanted to see her again, which was part of the equation that he was trying hard not to dwell on, particularly after Abby had teased him excessively about it the night before, claiming that he was totally transparent.

  Gr
ady was a businessman known for his negotiation skills and steel will—he was not totally transparent.

  But even he had to admit that the smile that took over his face when he saw Moira waiting outside of his office door was a bit, well, obvious.

  “Good morning,” he said to Moira, nodding to Jason, who was already at his desk as a good assistant should be. “I like a woman who shows up early.” He reached past her to unlock the door to his office, and his body came close to hers, setting off every fantasy that he’d spent the night trying to suppress to prove Abigail wrong about his desires. She smelled so good, and her lips were so full. That hair too. It begged for fingers to tangle within it during a moment of passion. “Come in,” he said, stepping back to let her go through the door first, acting as though his thoughts weren’t cluttered with images of his hands traversing her sultry body.

  “Uh, no,” Moira said, and for the first time, Grady noticed that her face looked strained. “I’m actually just here to get access to the room where the recordings from last night are stored.”

  “Oh.” He frowned at her, not understanding the distress in her expression. “All right. Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine, yes. I just need to see those recordings. I want to see if they picked up on our movements.”

  Grady stepped back from the doorway to his office, studying her closely and once again remembering how much leeway he had given to this woman he really didn’t know at all. Now she was looking anxious and antsy, asking for recordings that would be the only documentation of what she had done in the vault last night. It wasn’t that odd of a request in and of itself, considering one of the reasons she had stayed in the vault the night before was to see how it played out on the footage, but there was something nervous about her voice and the way she was looking at him that put up his guard.

  “Sure,” he said, not betraying any hint of concern, but testing her slightly. “Let me just call up to the person manning that room and have him get it all set up for you.”

  If Moira had something to hide, she didn’t let it show on her face. “Oh, someone’s manning it? I can just talk to them directly, if that’s easier. I don’t want to interrupt your workday, since I’m sure you’re very busy.

  Grady studied her more closely, not sure if she was being genuinely deferential—a side of her he definitely had not seen the day before—or if she was trying to bypass him and go directly to the footage. There was no one in the video recording room, since he had dismissed that person along with the rest of the security team the night before, but he’d wanted to see how she reacted to hearing that someone had been watching her all night.

  Her reaction told him very little though, and he wondered if he was just being overly suspicious, because he didn’t understand what had been happening with the vault, or if he should be listening to that little whispered hint that something wasn’t right.

  “Actually, no one was on duty last night,” he said, changing tactics. “I sent everyone home. I just remembered. I’ll take you up there myself, and we can check it out together.”

  “I’d really prefer to do it alone.”

  Now that whisper was definitely getting louder. “Alone?” They were both standing in his doorway, close together, eyes trained on each other as though they were in the middle of some silent standoff that neither was acknowledging out loud. “Why’s that?”

  Moira met his gaze with her own, the energy coursing between them powerfully. “It’s just a preference. You did hire me for my expertise, didn’t you? All I’m trying to do is my job.”

  “I did hire you for your expertise,” Grady acknowledged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the doorjamb without letting his eyes leave hers. “I’m just not sure why you keep requesting to cut my team and myself out of the process.”

  She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him. “Your team. Meaning the people most likely responsible for the thefts and the coverup? Yes, why would I want to avoid involving them?”

  “But surely you don’t suspect me.”

  “That wouldn’t make much sense, no.”

  “Then why can’t I go watch last night’s footage with you?”

  There was no good answer for that, and they both knew it. The standoff between them intensified, and there was no longer any doubt in Grady’s mind that there was something happening that he wasn’t privy to. This woman was definitely hiding something from him, and he wondered if he had somehow been played.

  There was no way she could be behind the whole thing…was there? Surely not. Then again…

  “Fine,” Moira said, interrupting his self-doubting thoughts. “We’ll go look at the footage together then. You’re right. There’s no reason not to. I can’t think of one single reason not to.”

  Grady didn’t back down, holding her feet to the fire. “Good. Let’s go do that then.”

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Well, I’m ready now.”

  “Then there’s no reason to wait.”

  “Good.” He nodded, still not on completely sure footing but not about to let on that he didn’t have things one hundred percent under control. “This way, then.”

  Without another word, he led her away from his office door and to the elevator, taking them both up to the seventeenth floor where the surveillance offices were located. As they stepped onto the elevator, neither of them said a word, standing stiffly side by side. The dynamic Grady had with her was one he had never experienced before. For the most part, they were outwardly polite to each other, but the constant trill of tension underneath the surface was constant, adding multiple layers to every word they exchanged. The desire he felt for Moira was stronger than he had ever felt for a woman before, at least within the first twenty-four hours of meeting them, but at the same time, something told him not to trust her. He wanted to yank her into his body and have his way with her, and he also wanted to put her into a room and interrogate her. His gut told him to trust her, and yet his mind was shouting that trusting her was the worst thing he could do.

  She confused and intrigued him, and he could never quite relax as long as she was nearby. When she had called the night before, his stomach had flip flopped, as though he was a middle-school boy with his first crush—except the crush was on the edgy popular girl who looked sweet and innocent but could very well be smoking beneath the bleachers and copying off of other people’s homework.

  If he had been a reasonable man, his confusion alone would have warned him off of Moira permanently, and he would have found a different agency to figure out what was going on with his security team. But Grady had always been a bit of a risktaker, and just like he had desperately wanted to go skydiving two years ago just to experience it for himself, he wanted to stick with Moira and see what was about to happen.

  Something told him it would be unforgettable, one way or another.

  “After you,” Grady said, as the elevator doors dinged open on the seventeenth floor.

  Moira stepped out into the hall and waited as Grady fished the company keys from his pocket and led her over to a door marked Surveillance.

  “Not very subtle,” Moira said, as he inserted the key into the lock and turned. “You’re advertising where someone needs to go if they want to tamper with the footage.”

  “I’ll have to correct that,” Grady said, looking over his shoulder at her as he let the door swing open and stepped back. “Thank you for pointing out the error.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “After you,” Grady said, gesturing for her to move into the room first.

  Moira didn’t take a step forward. “Are you sure you have nothing else to do? I thought you were busy becoming more successful than any other human on the planet. Why don’t you go do your job and let me do mine?”

  He smiled cheerfully, in some ways almost enjoying making her squirm, even if he didn’t know why she was squirming. “Oh, I don’t have a care in the world. Oodles of free time.” It wasn’t true, o
f course. He had a long list of client meetings set up for the day, and right at that moment, he was pushing being late for the first one. But Jason knew how to handle the situation if Grady wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and no client meeting could possibly compete with what he was doing at the moment. “After you,” he said again, watching her.

  Moira gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes and stepped into the surveillance room, allowing Grady to follow behind her and letting the door click closed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Moira

  Her heart was beating out of her chest and her mouth was dry, but Moira tried to keep it from showing on her face. The worst thing she could imagine was about to happen, and she didn’t see any way to stop it without further arousing Grady’s suspicions. It was clear that he didn’t trust her, and she didn’t blame him. He was a businessman, and he would be able to pick up on nonverbal cues that indicated nervousness, tension, or deceit. She was guilty of all of them, no matter how hard she was trying to play it cool.

  The night in the vault had gone from bad to worse. Eamon’s reaction to whatever had attacked him had triggered his transition into his dragon form, which had been bad enough, but it had also left him weak and volatile. It had taken her over an hour to get him stable enough to transition back into his human form and then another several hours to get him safely out of the vault, home, and stable. Even still, he was in bed, resting, his strength completely sapped and his thoughts troubled. Kean was with him, and Ronan and Siobhan were at the office, trying to find any indication of something that might have affected Eamon in that way. It was a case that they were all now invested in. If whatever force was at work in Grady’s building could do to any of them what it had done to Eamon, then there was a lot more at stake than a few hundred thousand dollars.