Celtic Dragons

by Dee Bridgnorth

  It was the not knowing that was the worst part of it, and the reason for the way he was standing at the windowed walls of his office, hands behind his back, staring broodingly down on Boston as he once again played the scenarios over in his mind.

  His office phone rang, but he ignored it, not in the mood to handle another complicated client at the moment. He knew that he wasn’t as focused on work of late and that it was hurting his company—the one he had worked so hard to build with his own time, sweat, and money. His parents hadn’t given him a dime. He’d built it, and now he was letting an obsession ruin it. However ridiculous that seemed, he couldn’t fight back against it or make himself care.

  The ringing stopped, and then Jason’s voice was behind him, coming from his office doorway. “Mr. Princeton? It’s the computer technician. He says he has an update for you.”

  That got Grady’s attention immediately, and he turned toward his assistant. “He’s on the phone now? Send him through.”

  As Jason disappeared, Grady hurried toward his phone, waiting for it to ring. The computer technician he’d hired had been working with the surveillance system computers for the past ten days, trying to recover the data that Moira had deleted, and Grady had given the man instructions not to call with anything other than definitive news. He didn’t want to get his hopes up every time the phone rang, only to hear a status report. If the man was calling, then that meant he had something real.

  The phone rang and Grady snatched it up, answering brusquely. “Yes? Well?”

  “Mr. Princeton? I’ve recovered the deleted footage, sir. But I’m not sure how to explain it to you.”

  “What do you mean how to explain it to me?” Grady demanded, sitting down in his chair. “What does it show? What did she do?”

  “It shows something that just isn’t possible. You need to come see this for yourself.”

  “I plan to see it for myself,” Grady promised. “But tell me what you mean. Not possible how?”

  “Not in the realm of possibility.”

  Grady’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “I don’t understand.”

  “Frankly, sir, neither do I. But I don’t want any part of it. Come to the office and I’ll show you what I did and how to access the footage, but then I want payment and any contract we have severed. I’m not getting dragged into whatever this is.”

  Grady was stunned, his mind racing to try to make sense of the man’s fearful reaction. It was a sincere reaction, of that he was certain. It made him both desperate and fearful to see the footage, but after spending the last two weeks breathlessly anticipating this moment, he didn’t even hesitate, standing up with the phone still in hand. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “As soon as possible, sir. As soon as possible.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Moira

  “You’re staring again.”

  Moira turned away from the window in her office and found Kean standing in the doorway, his arms over his chest as he watched her. She had no idea how long he had been there, given that she had been lost in thought, looking out over the landscape for quite some time. She needed to be working, but her motivation to do so was almost non-existent.

  “I’m fine,” Moira told him, answering his unasked question. “Just taking a break.”

  Instead of being reassured and leaving, Kean moved further into her office and closed the door behind him, sitting down, uninvited, in the chair by her desk. “You’re not fine. And it’s hard to take a break when you haven’t really started working.”

  “Hey,” Moira protested, her brow knitting. “I’m getting my work done.”

  “I’m not saying you’re slacking,” Kean said, holding up a hand. “It’s not a complaint. It’s just an observation. I’ve known you since the day you were born, remember? I know Moira Brennan doesn’t like to sit idle for any longer than she has to. I know Moira Brennan to be bubbly, positive, devil-may-care…a little reckless sometimes.” He gave her a slight smile. “I know Moira Brennan to be unfailingly happy. So the person I’ve been working with the for the past two weeks…that’s a different Moira Brennan.”

  “How many times did you just say my full name in that speech?” Moira asked dryly, hoping to deflect the conversation and yet knowing that he wouldn’t go for it.

  “Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Moira said, sighing with resignation and walking over to perch on her desk. “Nothing that hasn’t already been said. Two weeks ago, I almost ruined everything that we know and love and live by and put Eamon in danger. I almost exposed us. And there’s still no absolute guarantee that we haven’t been exposed. You know that as well as I do.”

  Kean gave her a look. “It wasn’t your fault. If you don’t believe me on that, then you should at least believe Ronan. He absolved you completely, remember?”

  “That’s because he’s Ronan and he leads with a good heart,” Moira muttered. “And just because it was an accident doesn’t mean that it wasn’t my fault. People go to prison when they accidentally hit another car with their own and someone gets hurt. Accidents have consequences too.”

  “Fine,” Kean said, acknowledging her point. “Would it make you feel better if I say that what happened could have been really bad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It could have been really bad. We could have been exposed, and who knows what would have happened next,” Kean said. “Maybe you should have taken the bad vibes you were getting from the space more seriously.”

  “I should have. I knew there was something there.”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” Kean told her, shaking his head. “Okay? So we’ve acknowledged your mistake.”

  “Good.”

  “Now get over it.”

  Moira’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s easier said than done, Kean.”

  “Maybe, but you’re not trying very hard,” Kean pointed out, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees as he grew more intent. “Nothing bad did happen, Moira. Not really. Not in the big picture. Eamon is fine and if this Grady guy did know something, then he would have done something by now. Contacted us. Gone to the press. We’ve been monitoring the situation, and there’s not a whisper of anything that we need to be concerned about. So it’s like a terrible car accident that almost happened, but didn’t. Or one that happened but no one ended up being hurt.”

  Sighing again, Moira dragged a hand through her wild hair, pursing her lips. “I just hate how it all happened. I’m worried that we’re not clear yet, and I’m worried about whatever it was that triggered Eamon’s reaction. And …”

  “And?”

  Moira shook her head, not meeting her eyes. “And I just…you’re right. I need to move past it.” That was all she could say, unless she wanted to explain to him that, on top of everything else she had just said, there was a terrible feeling of regret over how things had ended between her and Grady. During the twenty-four hours that she had known him, she hadn’t had the kindest of thoughts toward him, and it wasn’t until it was too late that she’d realized that she wanted to know him better. She wanted to scratch beneath the rich-boy persona that he hid behind and better explore the man she had only seen glimpses of. She hated that he, whether he knew about her second nature or not, would always believe that those last few minutes between them had all been a ruse to allow her to have the room to herself. And it had been…at first.

  But it had been more than a ruse, and she knew that for sure because she could still feel the way his kisses had warmed her lips and the way his arms had circled around her. At night she fell asleep wondering what it would have been like if she hadn’t stopped him when she had. Moira had never before come across a man who stayed so constantly in her thoughts the way that Grady did, and she was self-aware enough to recognize that that meant he was special.

  She may not have understood why, but she knew that he was.

  “How’s Dhara?” Moira asked, ea
ger to escape her thoughts and move the conversation past herself.

  Kean looked at her for a long moment before he answered, clearly knowing what she was doing. But he must have decided to let her do it. “She’s doing great. Settling back in at work and loving life again.”

  “And you two?”

  “Incredible,” Kean told her, getting to his feet. He crossed over to her and gave her a hug. “Listen, why don’t we go flying tonight? Just the two of us. We’ll head out on our own and really push ourselves. I’m talking flips and dives and the works. It’ll be good for you to stretch your wings. You’ve hardly been out with us at all lately.”

  She smiled slightly and nodded. “Sure. Sounds good.”

  “Good.” Kean tugged a ringlet of her hair and stepped back. “I’ve got to get home for dinner—that’s a thing that I do now.” He chuckled. “I go home for dinner with the woman who lives in my house.”

  Moira smiled again. “I’m happy for you, Kean. I really am.”

  “Thanks. I know your dad has some concerns …”

  “He’ll work them out for himself,” Moira said, waving a hand. Then she rolled her eyes. “If he’s upset about that, think how he would feel about his own daughter almost outing the lot of us.”

  “You didn’t—”

  She held up a hand, stopping him from going down the same path again. “Joke.”

  “Good.” Kean shook his head at her, then opened her office door again. “See you tonight.”

  When he had left, her office door cracked open, Moira sat down heavily in the chair he had vacated and resumed her staring, this time at the ceiling. Kean was trying to help her, and he had, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. She couldn’t shake Grady’s memory either, no matter how much she wanted to. It wasn’t just guilt keeping her trapped in endless questioning. It was the whole situation, and Grady himself.

  Her office phone rang as she continued to sit there, going over and over that night and day in her mind. Absentmindedly, she reached over to her desk and picked it up, already not listening even as she said, “This is Moira. How can I help you?”

  “Moira.”

  Her heart lurched up into her throat, and she sat straight up in her chair, her free hand gripping the arm so hard that it turned her knuckles white. “Grady.”

  “We need to talk.”

  She could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn’t just calling her to catch up or talk it all out. He knew. Why he was calling her now, instead of two weeks ago, she didn’t know. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he knew her secret and that this was the moment she had been dreading.

  “Where are you?”

  “Meet me down by the gate to the harbor. There’s a bench to the left of the arch. I’ll be sitting there.”

  Moira bit her lip, wondering if she was walking into a trap. He might have a media team there, waiting to expose her. There might be a team there to trap her and take her away for medical experiments. Was it better to meet him in public, like he was suggesting? Or did she want to try to limit her exposure. She had never dealt with this situation before, and she was at a loss, unsure of herself for the first time she could remember.

  “Moira, answer me.”

  “How do I know it’s safe?”

  “Because I’m contacting you first.”

  There was little else she could say to that. He was coming to her—that was a good sign. What he meant to do with her, she didn’t know, but if she didn’t take the risk, then he could bypass her and go public. She couldn’t chance that.

  And she couldn’t involve anyone else either. This situation was her fault and hers alone. She would be the only one to take the risk.

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “Good.”

  There was a pause on the line as they both sat there, waiting for the other to speak. But before Moira could figure out what to say, the line went dead and she was left only with her own thoughts. For a moment, she sat frozen in time, everything still and silent around her. Then, without making a fuss, she got to her feet, gathered her things, and headed out the door, slipping from the office building without attracting the attention of anyone else.

  Outside, she got into her car, turned her music all the way up, rolled down her windows, and pulled out into Boston traffic. She had no idea what might happen in the next hour, but she was going to enjoy the drive to whatever awaited her. The past two weeks had been spent in dread of this moment because she hoped it would never happen. Now that it was upon her, calm settled over her again and she prepared herself to do whatever she had to do in order to keep her friends and family safe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grady

  Grady had prepared for any number of meetings over the course of his business career. Meetings with men far wealthier than he, who had vast empires they controlled and thousands of people at their beck and call. He’d met with politicians, leaders of major corporations, and with people whom he considered his industry rivals. While there had been moments of nervousness here and there, one of Grady’s strengths was that he wasn’t easily intimidated and he never went into a meeting assuming anything other than his own success.

  But as Grady sat on the bench where he had told Moira to meet him, waiting for her to arrive, his palms were sweating so extensively that he had to keep rubbing them together and then against the fabric of his dress pants. He couldn’t sit still, and he kept looking up and around himself, trying to catch a glimpse of Moira somewhere in the crowd. Her impending arrival caused both dread and excitement for Grady. He longed to see her again as much as he dreaded having to talk to her about what he had seen on the footage provided to him by the tech company he had hired.

  Just hours ago, he had sat in the man’s office, watching the footage unfold again and again. It was impossible to believe—at least at first—that what he was seeing was real. Moira and her colleague had walked into the open vault, looking around briefly. Then, without warning—absolutely out of nowhere—the man with Moira began to shake. His skin began to change color. His clothes stretched and then popped all the way off him, falling to the floor as his body expanded and his head reared back to allow his neck to elongate, a dragon head forming at the end.

  He had gone through every possibility in his head. Corrupt footage. Purposeful fabrication of the footage. His own insanity. Group insanity with the person who had alerted him to the footage.

  Grady had engaged in all manner of mental gymnastics to try to explain what he was seeing happen in his own vault—the sudden appearance of a bright-white dragon with an incredible wingspan knocking over his belongings—but there was no explanation that fit. None except that the dragon had really been there and that Moira had been so desperate to erase the footage because she didn’t want anyone to find out what her friend was.

  It was an explanation of her behavior that at least made sense to Grady. It wasn’t quite so hurtful, what she’d done, if she’d been protecting her friend. But what still didn’t make sense to him was how the whole thing was possible, what it meant for Moira, and why she had brought this…creature she was associated with there in the first place.

  He needed answers from her. An explanation. He needed to figure out what to do next. He didn’t want to hurt Moira, and he had no desire to expose something he would have considered impossible just the day before simply because he could acquire money or fame. That wasn’t of interest to him.

  But he needed to know.

  Looking around him again, he finally caught sight of the flame-red hair he’d been looking for, though Moira was still weaving in and out of the crowd a distance away from him. He caught another glimpse of her as she moved closer, his breath catching at the sight of her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her creamy, freckled skin, her full lips, her lush body, and the way her jeans hugged her hips. She was as gorgeous as he remembered, and he wanted to rush over to her and pull her into his arms, forgetting everything that had hap
pened in the past two weeks.

  But she would never stand for that, and he wasn’t sure that she even felt that way about him. He couldn’t trust anything that she had done or said, which was going to make the upcoming conversation that much harder.

  “Hello.”

  Moira spoke quietly as she stopped in front of him, her face clear of the anxiety that was bubbling up inside of him. She seemed almost completely calm, though she had to know that he knew her secret. On the phone, it had been clear that she had loudly heard what he hadn’t wanted to say out loud.

  “Hi,” he replied, moving over on the wood bench so she could sit beside him. He had chosen this spot because it would be too crowded for them to be noticeable, and because it was in public. He hadn’t been sure if she would agree to come to his house or office now, and he also wasn’t sure if he trusted her enough to ask her to.

  Here, they were on neutral ground, surrounded by people and protected from each other in a way that Grady felt was important.

  “You called,” Moira prompted, when he didn’t immediately launch into his prepared speech. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you going to pretend like you don’t know?” Grady asked, turning his head to look directly at her, his eyes scanning her face. “Really?”

  Moira didn’t blink. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh come on,” Grady said, a flicker of frustration evident in his voice. “Don’t play that game with me. Aren’t we past that yet?”

  “I’m not sure what we’re past,” Moira said, still steadily looking at him. “You called me here and said we need to talk. I’m just here to listen.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and the business side of him approved. Moira wasn’t showing her hand or jumping in too soon. She was going to make him work for whatever he got out of her, and he would have done the same thing in her position. Underneath his own reserved persona, he was impressed with her ability to stay cool when she must be anything but calm inside.