Aaron scowled but simply nodded and jerked his head at the other men. They hurried back out of the room, leaving her alone with the head of security.
“Anything?” Aaron stood in the doorway to her workspace, filling it completely. Even though the dueling pistol had long since passed its useful stage, she picked it up. Having the weapon in her hand made her feel marginally better. It might not fire a bullet, but she could use it to bludgeon him if necessary.
“This is a common dueling pistol dating about twenty years before the sinking of the vessel. We have to assume it was either a family piece or someone bought it to be used.”
He swore and stalked over to the table where she had all the artifacts displayed. Most of it looked like encrusted clumps of metal that would have to be cleaned further. Other items, like the pistol, were easily recognizable.
“I don’t care about the damn gun.” He picked up the remnants of a dagger and ran his finger along the flat edge of the corroded blade before dumping it back on the table.
“What do you care about?” It was bold and brazen of her to ask, but she wanted to know if he was hired muscle or if he had a higher stake in the game the Knights were playing.
His eyes flashed and his expression turned from one of frustration to his patented smile. “Why, treasure, Dr. Bellamy. Isn’t that what everyone wants when they go treasure hunting?”
“Depends on your definition of treasure,” she retorted. “What we’ve uncovered so far says a lot about the people who died on board the Reliant.” She reluctantly set the pistol down on the top of her workspace. “If you mean gold, silver, and jewels, you may be disappointed. Those kinds of discoveries are rare.”
Aaron ambled over to stand beside her. It took everything in her not to tense at his closeness. The bastard knew he made her uncomfortable, and he liked it. Damned if she’d give him even more satisfaction by showing him.
“Our boss will want an update later tonight. Make sure you have a general idea of what’s in the latest haul.” With that, he left her alone.
Thankful for small favors, Sam went back to work. As much as she wanted to rush to the latest finds and dig through them, she forced herself to continue cataloging the pistol. When it had been tagged, photographed, logged, and set on the table with the other artifacts, she decided enough time had passed. If anyone was watching her, she wouldn’t seem too eager.
She went to the plastic tub where they’d piled the latest items and began to pull them out one by one and set them on another table to better view them. She was surprised to see a glint of gold. She rubbed the spot of what appeared to be part of a chain, revealing more of the precious metal. It was a necklace.
At least she’d be able to tell Aaron he was getting some gold out of the trip, even though she didn’t think he’d appreciate it.
There was something totally unexpected near the bottom of the tub. A fairly large pottery urn with a broad top. She set it carefully on the table, her excitement mounting. It was still sealed. Whatever was inside could be preserved.
Of course, it might be nothing. But she didn’t think so. Her senses were humming so loudly she was practically vibrating. She’d ignored the sensation because they’d been humming ever since the Integrity had arrived at the search site.
This was different. Whatever was inside this urn was significant. Still, she forced herself to go through her normal routine of tagging, snapping pictures, and logging it into inventory before she reached for a sharp knife to break the seal.
She shouldn’t be doing this so quickly. Not without extensive consultation and thought. She could potentially destroy whatever was inside. If this were a normal marine recovery, she’d set it aside until she was back on shore and had more equipment available.
But she couldn’t wait. This might be the only chance she would get to see what was inside before Karina Azarov took possession of the artifact. She took a deep breath, slipped the knife around the edge of the opening to the pottery jar, and carefully cut through the heavy wax seal that covered the entire top and several inches down the sides.
It wasn’t easy. Even after all this time, the urn did not want to give up its secrets.
Once she’d loosened the seal, she jammed the knife downward and pried the layer of wax off. It revealed another stopper. This one was metal and took even more effort to maneuver.
She was sweating by the time it finally gave way. She set the knife down and lifted the metal stopper, carefully placing it on the table. Her heart pounding, she grabbed a flashlight and shone it into the opening. It was empty except for another smaller jar and the straw padding used to cushion it.
Sam took a deep breath and then another. When she was calm enough, she lifted the urn onto its side and carefully tipped the contents onto the table. The smaller jar rolled out, and she caught it before it could fall off the table.
When she had the larger urn upright once again, she turned her attention to the jar. It was more ornate than the larger one, with symbols from different cultures running all around the side. The markings confused her. They were a combination of protection and warning that what was inside was extremely powerful.
She didn’t need any symbols to tell her that. The jar was pulsing with energy. Anyone else might not be able to feel it, but there was no hiding it from her gift.
A more primitive part of her psyche screamed at her to destroy whatever was inside. It was dangerous. That much she knew for sure.
Her timetable had just been moved up. She had to get out of here tonight.
…
Ezra raked his hair back from his face, squeezing the water from the thick strands. The ocean always invigorated him. Naked, he stood on his dock and watched the waves. Thirty feet from shore, a whale breached the surface before disappearing once again into the depths. The forty-foot female humpback had raced alongside him for a time, and he’d slowed so she could join him in their mutual enjoyment of flying through the water.
He padded back up to the house, his stomach grumbling all the way. Definitely time to eat. Drakons burned a lot more calories than humans did. And after a two-hour swim, Ezra was starving.
Not bothering with clothes—one of the perks of living alone—he went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. He’d put four large flank steaks in there to marinate while he was gone.
The grill pan was already on the stove, so he turned it on to heat it up. While he was waiting, he helped himself to a bottle of water, grabbed his phone off of the counter, and checked his messages.
There was only one, and it was from Tarrant, asking him to call back. It was answered on the first ring. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Picked up some chatter.” Tarrant was a world-class hacker. He’d been fascinated with technology since its inception and owned the largest telecommunications company in the world.
“About?” He took a swig of water and wandered back to the stove. Deeming the pan hot enough, he grabbed a set of tongs and put the steaks on the grill.
“Seems Karina Azarov has a boat off the coast of Maine not too far from you.”
“That so?” He hadn’t noticed any unusual boats to the northeast, so it must be more south.
“That’s so. And according to Valeriya, this particular boat is a research vessel, one that salvages shipwrecks.” Now that was interesting, and Valeriya would know. Ezra still had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that his brother was involved with the sister of the head of the Knights of the Dragon, but there was no doubting Valeriya’s devotion to Tarrant.
“Any idea what the Knights are looking for?”
There was some tapping in the background, and Ezra knew his brother was doing some sort of search with his computer. He took the opportunity to flip the steaks.
“According to what I’ve been able to access, which isn’t a lot, it’s a passenger ship that went down in the eighteen hundreds.”
“Must have something pretty special on board for them to go to all that trouble.�
� Karina Azarov didn’t do anything unless there was some gain in it for her.
“That’s what we need to find out. If they’re up to something, you can stop them. I’m texting you the approximate coordinates.”
Ezra checked the steaks on the grill, deemed them done, and lifted them onto a clean plate. “What exactly are you saying, Tarrant?”
The war between the Knights and the drakons had been ongoing for centuries, but in the past few weeks, it had ramped up to a whole new level. Darius was being actively hunted, and Tarrant’s home had almost been destroyed. The drakons had been content to live and let live. That had proved to be a mistake. It had made the Knights bolder and deadlier.
But the time had come to take a stand. The Knights didn’t care who they hurt in their hunt for power. They’d killed thousands of innocent humans over the centuries, and most recently a good friend of Tarrant’s, and his brother didn’t make friends easily.
“Find out what the Knights are doing out there, get any artifacts if there are any to get, and scuttle the ship.”
“You want me to kill them?” It was one thing to protect himself, quite another to murder people in cold blood. “What if some of the crew is innocent?”
Tarrant swore. “Just sink the damn ship. They can get back to shore using their lifeboats. But at least they won’t be able to use that particular ship again.”
Ezra could live with that. “I’ll check it out tonight.”
“Make sure you’re not seen. They don’t need to know who you are.”
“I know how to go undetected in the water,” he reminded his brother. “I am a water drakon.”
Tarrant sighed. “I know. I’m on edge with everything going on right now.”
“How is Valeriya?” That was the one subject guaranteed to take his brother’s mind off his troubles.
“She’s doing great. Almost finished work on her latest book.” Valeriya wrote and illustrated children’s books.
“Tell her I’m looking forward to reading it.” It might be for kids, but Ezra had ordered copies of her books about a friendly little dragon. He’d read them and liked them.
“I will. I gotta go, but let me know how things turn out.”
“Will do.” Ezra ended the call and tossed his cell phone on the counter. He could check the coordinates of the ship before he left. Right now, the steaks were done. He should have baked some potatoes to go with them, but he was too hungry to wait.
He carried his meal to the table, dug up a fork and knife, and began to eat. By the time he finished the last one, the worst of his hunger was sated. He carried his dishes to the kitchen and tucked them into the dishwasher.
The house was quiet. He didn’t own a television. Anything he wanted to watch, he streamed on his laptop. He had a large sectional sofa and a couple of large chairs flanking the stone fireplace, but he usually sat at the window seat. He liked being able to see the water.
He mounted the stairs and went to the master suite. Drakons didn’t need a lot of sleep, but he was tired. He’d been pushing himself hard since his family had left. Seeing his brothers with their women had made him realize just how empty his life was.
He stretched out naked on the bed, stacked his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. Fluorescent stars glowed out of the darkness. He’d put hundreds of the stickers up there for nights when it was foggy outside and he was unable to view the real stars in the sky through the two skylights.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d rest for an hour or two and then he’d head out.
Chapter Three
Sam held her breath as footsteps sounded in the corridor just beyond the workroom. It was after midnight, and everyone was in their bunk except for the two men on duty. One was in the wheelhouse, and the other was walking the decks.
Once the footsteps receded, she turned on the tiny penlight she clutched in her hands. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was surprised the guard hadn’t heard it and come to check on the noise. She wasn’t cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff, but she was determined.
She crept over to the table where she’d left the smaller of the two jars earlier. Such a tiny thing to hide such a dangerous artifact. Inside had been a book, no more than five inches long and four inches wide. It was small. The kind of thing a man might keep tucked away in the inside pocket of his coat. It had been wrapped in oiled cloth before being deposited in the jar. Whoever had owned this book had gone to great lengths to protect it.
Now, Sam was taking desperate measures to make sure it stayed out of the hands of the Knights. When she’d unwrapped it earlier, she’d stuffed a necklace inside and hid the book in a desk drawer. It had been a gamble, but it had paid off.
Aaron hadn’t been pleased to discover the seals on the urn and vase broken and only a gold necklace hidden inside. At least that was the story she’d told him. Thankfully, he’d seemed to accept it.
Now she was back in the middle of the night to retrieve the book. She had to get off the ship with it or destroy it.
She eased the desk drawer open. The tiny volume sat there looking inconspicuous with the plain brown leather cover. There was nothing particularly exciting about it from the outside. Sam hadn’t even risked opening the cover of the thing. She didn’t have to. It positively radiated power. She didn’t question her instincts. They’d never been wrong.
She hesitated before lifting the book. The oils from her skin could damage the binding. She grabbed a latex glove but didn’t bother to put it on, using it to cover her skin as she stuffed the book into a small plastic bag. When it was secure, she shoved it into the inner pocket of her coat. She had much bigger things to worry about than damaging the cover of the book.
She’d debated whether or not she should wait to see if any other artifacts were brought on board before making an attempt to escape. But she sensed Aaron was getting impatient, and that probably stemmed from their employer also losing patience. Sam didn’t know how much longer they’d be here, or if she’d even make it back to shore alive if she stayed longer.
It was now or never.
She’d spent every day since she’d first stepped onto the Integrity studying the layout of the research vessel. She knew where the lifeboats and dinghy were and how to access them. It was crazy to think she’d be able to steal one without anyone noticing, but it was a chance she had to take.
She tucked her flashlight away and listened at the door for several minutes before cracking it open. The dim light shone in the hallways, showing her it was empty. Sam hurried toward the opening at the far end. The rubber soles of her sneakers allowed her to move silently.
The book in her pocket felt incredibly heavy for such a small thing. It would lead to her death if she was caught, of that she had no doubt.
She stepped out onto the deck and immediately slid to the left into the shadows. The closer she got to freedom, the more anxious she became. She was sweating now, her thermal shirt beneath her sweater and coat was stuck to her skin.
She shivered in the cold night air.
This was crazy. It was late November and she was contemplating escaping in a dinghy. If she fell in the water without a survival suit, she wouldn’t last long.
“Don’t think about it,” she whispered under her breath. She had to think about Brian, her mentor, and the other innocent people the Knights had murdered. This was some small measure of justice for them.
In the back of her mind, Sam knew there was no going back to the life she’d known. The Knights would be searching for her and wouldn’t stop until they found her. Her life had been forfeit the moment she’d agreed to take the position aboard this ship. Maybe it had been forfeit when Brian was killed, and she’d been living on borrowed time ever since.
She’d moved money into an offshore account under an assumed name and had a new passport and other identification with that name. All she had to do was get back to shore, grab her escape bag from the storage unit where she’d stashed it, and get out of t
he country before the Knights realized she’d left. A tall order, for sure.
At the very least, she could try to get the book to the people who’d recruited her in the first place. She didn’t know much about the Dragon Guard, but she knew they’d protect the book or destroy it after they’d studied its contents. Her contact at the Guard, Gervais Rames, had gone missing several months ago. She had no idea if he was dead, hiding, or on some mission of his own, but if she couldn’t find him, she’d destroy the book herself.
All this thinking and speculating wasn’t getting her off the ship.
She glanced around and found the sentry having a smoke up near the bow of the ship. She knew the man in the wheelhouse spent most of his time reading unless something came up. It was now or never.
She hurried down the port side toward the stern. She ignored the larger lifeboats and focused on the small inflatable dinghy the divers used. It was lashed to the ship just where she’d expected it to be.
She glanced over her shoulder as icy fear snaked down her spine. She couldn’t get over the sensation that someone was watching her. The rope was slippery from the water that occasionally splashed against it. Her fingers slipped, and she struggled not to start swearing.
This was taking far too long.
Finally, the knot gave way, and she lowered the boat into the water. It hit with a splash. Still, no one called out or raised an alarm.
She quickly went over the side of the boat, landing hard in the dinghy. Where was the paddle? She was almost blind here in the darkness. Why hadn’t she secured the paddle before lowering the boat?
She frantically patted the side of the dinghy. A wave of relief hit her when her fingers wrapped around wood. She lifted it and dipped it over the side and into the ocean. Then she began to paddle as though her life depended on it. Because it did.
…
Drakon's Plunder (Blood of the Drakon) Page 2
