by Meg Ripley
“What are you going to do? Throw me in the dungeon?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be in a suite.”
“A gilded cage is still a cage.”
“Would you prefer the dungeon?” His tone was deceptively casual, and Jason realized he did not want to push his luck.
“You can’t keep me locked up forever.”
“I could,” Damian said mildly, “but I won’t. Just until this mess is cleaned up. For your sake, I hope that doesn’t take too long.”
With that, Damian’s goons pulled him from the room and dragged him down the long corridor. As the door swung closed behind him, he heard Damian summon Vincent from downstairs. He tried to twist away, but their fingers bit into him with the strength of steel, and he had no choice but to allow them to drag him to his gilded cage.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mary didn’t want to sit at home by herself. She didn’t want to think about her father, the funeral, or the investigation. She didn’t want to think about Jason and how much she found herself missing him, even though he apparently shared her father’s favorite delusion. She didn’t want to think about that, either. Since she didn’t want to be by herself, she went to the bar. Everybody was surprised to see her, but they had the good sense to keep their questions to themselves and let her work without protest.
It didn’t help. It was good to keep her body moving, but it hardly kept her mind distracted. Especially since it was a slow night and she finished all of her side work very early.
“I can keep an eye on the place if you want to go home,” Donna offered. As the bar’s only full-time waitress, she practically ran the place herself.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” Mary suggested. “I don’t mind staying.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home?” Donna asked gently.
“I’m sure. I’ve got some bookwork I wanted to finish tonight.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. She doubted she had the concentration to do any bookkeeping. “Go on home and relax.”
Donna still seemed hesitant, but she clocked out and gathered up her purse and coat, urging Mary to give her a call if she needed anything at all.
Once she had the bar to herself, she grabbed a handful of quarters from the tip jar and pumped them into the jukebox. Without realizing it, she selected a dozen of her father’s favorite songs, understanding what she’d done only when the music started. She sighed, resting her head against the cool glass, fresh pain winding around her heart. She didn’t always see eye to eye with her father, but no little girl could have asked for a better dad.
“Excuse me.”
Mary jerked upright and spun to face the newcomer. A tall man with sharp good looks that almost seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on how or why.
“I hate to disturb you, but are you open?”
“Yes, yes,” Mary said, wiping the corner of her eyes. “Come on in. What can I get you?”
“A Tom Collins.”
“One Tom Collins coming up.”
The man perched on a stool at the bar, his sharp eyes following her as she began making his drink.
“You just passing through?” Mary asked to break the silence, uncomfortable at the way he stared at her, unblinking.
“Yes. I’ve been summoned to Albany for a chat with the police.”
“Oh, I hope it’s a friendly chat,” she said neutrally.
“It is friendly, if rather unfortunate. A dear friend of mine has reached a violent end.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, handing him the drink; her voice was still even, though her mind was racing with questions. Was he talking about her father? Did he have any knowledge? If so, did he know of the connection between her and Neil Simmons? “My condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you heading up there tonight?” she asked conversationally.
“Oh, no, I’ll be getting a room. My interview is scheduled at noon, but it’s such a long drive from the city. Do you have any dinner recommendations?”
Despite feeling uneasy about the man, she pulled a menu from behind the bar and handed it to him. She wanted to know who he was and what he was doing there—and what he knew about her father’s death. “Let me know if anything looks good.”
He skimmed the modest menu before requesting a double cheeseburger. “Make it bloody,” he added.
“Coming right up!” She released an uneasy breath as soon as she stepped into the small kitchen and began prepping his burgers, though the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her ears were trained on the room behind her. She couldn’t hear much past the music, though.
She apparently couldn’t hear enough. Soon after flipping the patties over, a hand came down on her shoulder, startling a small yelp from her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the man said, and up close, she caught a scent of something strange. Something raw, like ground beef that had been left in the fridge for a day too long and gone a little off. “I was just wondering, do you have fresh french fries?”
“No...uh...they’re frozen.”
“And the onion rings?”
“Those are frozen, too, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, how disappointing.”
“Look, we don’t allow customers back here. So, if you wouldn’t mind having a seat, I’ll bring this right out.”
“Of course.” But he made no move to step away, crowding her against the grill in the small kitchen. He reached for her before she could duck away, his fingers skimming through her hair. “You really are a lovely woman, Shayne.”
“Get away from me,” she said between gritted teeth. “Get the hell out of my bar.”
“Keep a civil tongue in your head,” he warned. “I want to be your friend, Shayne. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“My friend? I don’t even know who you are.”
“Oh, forgive me. I’m Vincent Ryder. I was a good friend of your dear, late father’s.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So, we finally meet, Mr. Ryder. You were no friend of his. You’re a goddamn leech.”
“A leech? Is that how your father described me?”
“No. For all of my father’s positive qualities, he was a fool. A blind fool.”
Vincent chuckled, a darkly amused sound that sent a chill down her spine. “I never cheated your father out of any money. He got exactly what he paid for.”
“He bought lies and fantasies! You sold him dreams until he had nothing left. Go away, Mr. Ryder, you are not welcome here.”
“It’s such a shame to hear that.” He did sound like he was genuinely disappointed. Mary didn’t have time to process that before he had her by the wrist, his other hand going to the back of her neck. She tried to yank away, but his grip was too strong, and he spun her around, yanking her wrist up between her shoulder blades. She immediately went lax, trying to ease the pressure on her shoulder.
“What...what are you doing?” she gasped out.
“I’m going to have to take you with me. I was supposed to leave you, but what’s the fun of that?”
She let him march her out of the kitchen, but as soon as she had room to maneuver, she tried to slip away again. She nearly had her wrist free when his arm locked around her throat and he began to squeeze. The pain ripping through her shoulder was the only thing that kept her focused.
“Don’t fight, sweetheart. You don’t want to die here.”
Mary didn’t want to die at all. She had no doubt that he meant it, but she didn’t think she’d have a better fate if she let him take her to a second location.
“Put your hands up!” Tandy’s deep voice boomed over the jukebox. “Put your hands up or I will shoot.”
The pressure eased on her throat and shoulder and she slumped to the ground as Vincent turned to face the homicide detective.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
“No, I assure you, I understand perfectly.” Tandy approached and quickly chec
ked Vincent’s pockets for a weapon. “Get on the ground. Face down. Put your hands behind your back.”
Vincent silently complied, giving the full illusion of cooperating. Tandy secured his wrists before turning his attention to Mary.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, a little sore. How did you know he was here?”
“Follow me to the station, and I’ll explain everything.”
He yanked Vincent to his feet and marched him to the door in very much the same way Vincent had marched Mary. She paused to grab her purse and jacket, turn off the lights, and lock the door, but no more than thirty seconds passed before she followed Tandy out—and it only took thirty seconds for all hell to break lose.
Tandy was screaming and shooting at the sky, firing his weapon again and again. She almost didn’t hear the reports of the weapon under the swishing of a mighty wind. She looked up and saw the most impossible sight she’d ever seen.
A dragon wheeling higher and higher, blending into the night sky, nothing more than a silhouette against the stars.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mary stared at the phone in front of her, stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief, too stunned to say anything for a solid five minutes. Tandy waited patiently while she processed everything she heard, coupled with what she saw only an hour before.
“I called him trash,” she said numbly. “I was such a jerk. Where is he now?”
“Well, we don’t know. We have no idea where his father stashed him and we have no way to reach him.” He sighed. “I should have let him wear a wire, but I never thought he was in any true danger. He certainly didn’t divulge the full scope of what he was facing.”
“What is he facing?
“We’ve done a little digging. His father, Damian Cross, owns most of the major real estate in Manhattan. He’s retired out of the public eye in the past decade, and literally nobody knows where he is. The fact that he’s still in the city is apparently news to just about everyone.”
“Jason didn’t tell you where he was going to meet Vincent?”
“I’m saying, I know where he is. It’s not going to be an easy thing to get to him.”
“I can’t believe after everything I said to him, he still wanted to help. He was telling me the complete truth and I didn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.” She blinked her eyes at the detective. “I’m glad you did. So now what are we going to do?”
“Well the way I see it we have three—” Tandy stopped mid-sentence and held up his hand, motioning for her to remain quiet. He took his phone and hit a few buttons on the screen as another man’s voice suddenly filled the room.
“You’re saying you flew away in front of witnesses? You’re as hopeless as my idiot son.”
“It was either that or get arrested.” Vincent’s voice came in with the counter argument. “Or shot. He did fire at me several times.”
“Getting arrested is the very least of your worries.” Mary didn’t recognize the other voice.
“Jason’s father,” Tandy provided. “Don’t worry, it’s on mute. They can’t hear us. When I realized he never disconnected the call, I thought I’d keep the line open.”
“Not as long as you keep Jason here. You have the scale, right?” Vincent asked.
“Yes, we confiscated it. We had everything under control. Why would you get her involved?”
“She’s already involved. You think Jason didn’t spill his guts to her? You think she’s not going to have a million questions about her father? She’s got money, connections, and time. She could be a real problem for us.”
“Well, she will be now that you’ve attacked her. If you wanted her gone, you should have just taken care of the job.”
“Jason got a piece of her. I just wanted a taste.” Mary shuddered, disgusted anew by the man she’d already found so detestable.
“No. There’s no time for that crap. We’ve got to take out both the girl and the detective and make sure Jason doesn’t talk.”
“Well, there’s only one way to do that, sir.”
“I’m not going to kill my son.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Vincent stated, his tone chilling her to the bone.
“No. There’s another way. There’s got to be.”
“You of all people know better than that. What is this?”
“It’s Jason’s phone.”
“Are you aware that it’s—” The phone beeped twice, signaling the end of the call and Tandy pushed pause on the recording app.
“Sounds like a couple of counts of conspiracy to commit murder to me,” he said.
“Not to mention the kidnapping and the previous count of murder. What do we do?”
“I take this to a judge and get some warrants. We storm the castle as soon as we can coordinate with NYPD. In the meantime, you’re going to stay right here. I don’t want to worry about Vincent sending a few thugs for you—or coming back for you himself.”
“Let me help.”
“There is literally nothing you can do to help me except sit right here and do not get into any trouble. Please. We’re dealing with very dangerous people...dragons...creatures. I’m asking you to please just sit tight.”
“Fine,” Mary conceded, though everything inside of her wanted to push back. But what could she do in a murder investigation that involved dragons, besides get herself killed? She needed to stay alive so she could tell Jason just how sorry she was when Tandy brought him back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The suite was massive, more suitable for an honored guest than a dishonored prisoner. He paced from one end to the other, looking for something—anything—that would aid his escape, but he might as well have been locked up in an Alcatraz cell. There was no other door or window, no phone, no vent, no sign of the outside world or ability to signal to it. He was probably deep in the earth, near the center of his father’s vast fortress. Above him would be the garden. He might even be directly under the pool where Vincent idled away so many hours.
At least Detective Tandy knew where he was. If anybody should miss him or wonder about his disappearance, at least Tandy could tell them his last known whereabouts. He was really only thinking about what would happen if Mary tried to reach him and he never responded—just the thought of her potentially being worried about him raised his spirits considerably. It never occurred to him that Tandy might show up to rescue him. How would he ever get past the front door, much less find his way into the belly of the labyrinth? How would he ever compel Damian or overpower his will? It couldn’t be done and he had no expectation that Tandy would try.
Hours after his incarceration began, the door slid open and Vincent stepped inside.
“So, I was saying to the old man that we need to tie up all the loose ends. The girl. The detective. You. And he said, no, he doesn’t want to kill his ‘idiot son.’ He still has sentiment for you, I guess. I’m trying to tell him to look at the bigger picture, and what do I find sitting right there on the desk?” He revealed Jason’s phone—considerably more cracked and broken than the last time Jason saw it. “In the middle of a call. A long call. It had already been going on for like six hours. Now your father doesn’t feel so sentimental.”
“So, you’ve been sent to kill me? You’re my friend, Vincent.”
“Friend? Friend? After I find this, you have the audacity to call yourself my friend? You came here today to try to make me incriminate myself and that’s what you say to me?”
“I was trying to exonerate you!”
“Exonerate me? The police wouldn’t even know to look my direction if you hadn’t told them. What part of secret society do you not understand? It’s for our own benefit! For the safety of our kind.”
“I’m not the one who put our kind at risk. You are the one who indulged in that old man’s fantasies. You are the one who made him life-like replicas of dragons. And you’re the one who killed him. As a dragon! Good god, man, if you had to murder him, why not shoot him? Or poison him? Or anythi
ng but going at him in full-on dragon attack mode!”
Vincent bowed his head slightly. “Point taken. You’re right. I made an error in judgement. It was not premeditated. I didn’t go to his house with the intention of killing the man. I did consider him a friend.”
“Then what happened?”
“Neil had a very...irritating personality flaw. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. Perhaps I had been too indulgent with him over the years. I thought I was just humoring the fancy of a delightful old eccentric. But he got it in his head that maybe I knew more than I let on. Maybe I was even a dragon myself. And maybe he could get a glimpse of the truth if he tried hard enough.”
“What did he do? Goad you into turning and killing him?”
“I could withstand his words. What I could not withstand was the Dragon’s Tongue he put in my tea. Did you know at large enough quantities, it really does reveal a dragon? I don’t know if he knew it would work. He seemed quite shocked. Hell, I always thought that was a myth, myself.”
“And you just killed him right there?”
“Well, I had to, didn’t I? After all, not only did he have irrefutable proof of our existence, but he’d finally figured out the dosage to force us to reveal ourselves. Who knows how many times he attempted to poison me before he finally hit on the amount that would make me shift. At least he figured that out before he found the lethal dosage. But oh, you couldn’t do it, could you?”
“Kill a man in cold blood? No, I couldn’t.”
“It wasn’t cold blood,” Vincent snapped. “That’s the point. My blood was running hot and I reacted on instinct. The very instinct that has preserved our kind for thousands of years. The instinct you lack. Imagine if everybody were like you. We’d all be dead.”
“Do you really think that our friends, neighbors and coworkers would want to kill us all without exception?” Jason shook his head. “Look, I’m not saying we should hold a press conference, but you might as well call one if you go ahead with this plan. Killing me is not going to make all of this go away.”
