“And if she’s a Knight?” he muttered. Just because she’d been shot by one of them didn’t mean she wasn’t one. It could have been a falling out among the ranks.
He silently padded back to the nightstand and withdrew the book. The feeling he was betraying her nagged at him. “Best to keep it safe.” He left the room before he did something stupid like return the book to the drawer and curl up alongside Sam.
With the soggy mass of clothes in one hand and the book in the other, he headed to his office long enough to deposit the book in a titanium floor vault with a retinal scanner and a twenty-four-digit code. He’d laughed at Tarrant when his brother had insisted he install it. He wasn’t laughing now.
When the book was secured, he took the clothes to the laundry room. The thermal shirt and the garment he’d used as a bandage were only fit for the garbage. He studied the sweater she’d been wearing and decided that belonged in the garbage, too. That left her jeans, socks, underwear, and coat. Shrugging, Ezra threw it all into the washer and set the cycle.
Now it was time for him to dispose of the evidence.
He carried her sneakers to the front entrance and set them on the mat to dry. Then he carried the bloody garments down the path to the dinghy. He hated leaving Sam alone, even though he knew her body needed rest and she’d probably sleep for hours.
He dumped the clothes into the dinghy and stared out over the water. Dawn was starting to break as he removed his track pants and set them on the dock. He dove into the ocean, grabbed the rope of the dinghy, and began to swim. He cut quickly and efficiently through the water, heading toward the perfect place to dump the boat and clothes. There could be no trace of Sam to lead back to him.
Maybe the Knights would think she’d died at sea. He snorted. Not likely. They’d search until they found a body, watch for reports of a body washing onshore, or if there was activity in any of her bank accounts, but eventually they’d decide she was either dead or gone.
He paused when he reached a particularly deep chasm in the ocean floor. It wasn’t large, but it was more than big enough to hide a dinghy. He embraced the creature inside him, allowing his dragon free rein. Even after all these years, it was still a rush to feel his body changing. Even his mental processes were different. He was still present, but he was ruled by a more primitive mind and primal instincts.
He caught the dinghy between his teeth and spiraled down into the water. All around him, smaller fish fled. A great white shark started toward him, only to have second thoughts and veer away, heading toward open water.
Ezra went down to the depths of the ocean that would crush a man, to the dark where no light penetrated. He shoved the remains of the dingy deep into a crevice. Then he moved several boulders on top of it to keep it in place. It would never be found.
He turned away from the darkness and shot back toward the light of dawn. Sam was waiting at home for him. His dragon half was as eager to get back to her as his human side. Both parts of him yearned to be closer, to protect her.
She was his. He’d found her in the ocean, plucked her from the sea. By the laws of maritime salvage, that meant she belonged to him now.
…
Karina Azarov was not happy. “What do you mean, the Integrity is gone?” Her personal bodyguard, Birch, had woken her in the middle of the night to inform her she had an emergency phone call. It was not news she wanted.
“Something hit the ship. Hard. And not just once. Rammed it right over on its side.”
She tightened her fingers around the phone, when what she really wanted was to wring Aaron Dexter’s neck. Why was she surrounded by incompetence? “A whale?”
“Uncertain. One of the men managed to take a grainy video.”
“Send it to me.” If there was a way to determine what had happened, she’d find it. Maybe it was nothing but bad luck, but Karina didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. She forged her own path in the world. Hard work and determination were the keys to success. And she’d be damned if she didn’t get what she wanted, what she’d worked her entire life for.
“Already done?”
“And Sam Bellamy? Is she alive or dead?”
“Unknown. No body.”
A tiny niggling began in the back of her mind. It was a sign she didn’t ignore. Aaron Dexter was holding out on her. “Was anything of significance discovered from the shipwreck before the Integrity was hit?”
Again, there was a slight hesitation before he replied. “Uncertain. There were artifacts that hadn’t been examined yet.”
“So what you’re telling me is that both the good Dr. Bellamy and a possible artifact are both missing?” She knew it in her gut. “Don’t lie to me, Aaron. I’ll know if you do.”
There was silence, and then he finally relented. “There was something, an artifact of some kind. She was trying to get off the ship with it when we were hit. By the time we got to the lifeboats, the dinghy she was in was gone. I assume it got dragged down with the Integrity.”
Idiot. “Assume nothing. Get out there and find her, or at least her body. I want whatever she found recovered.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She ended the call before he could say more. Birch was waiting, silent and patient. “Aaron Dexter is a problem. He let Dr. Bellamy get off the Integrity with an artifact, one that might be important. Even now, it may be lost because of his incompetence.”
Karina carefully set her phone down on her nightstand and began to pace her bedroom. Normally she would do anything not to appear weak in any way, but this was Birch. He’d been with her since she was a child. He was more mentor and father to her than her own had been.
She turned to him. “I need to see what’s on that video.” Maybe it was nothing, but it was better to be sure.
“I’ve already got our best tech working on it,” he assured her.
His calm demeanor settled her. She could always count on Birch. “Dexter is not reliable.” She’d suspected that for a while now.
“No. He probably spent more time trying to get Dr. Bellamy to sleep with him than watching her.”
Karina walked toward him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You already knew.” That was Birch. Others might cower in fear from her, but he kept her honest.
“You’re right. I knew he fancied himself a ladies’ man, but I still thought he could do the damn job. It was simple. The woman is an archaeologist and was confined to a ship in the middle of the ocean. How hard could it have been to watch her? He’ll have to be dealt with when we’re sure we know everything that happened. Until then, we keep a close eye on him.”
“Temple will cause problems,” Birch reminded her.
“We’ll keep this quiet until we know more.” She headed to the bathroom. There would be no more sleep for her. She might as well shower and start her day.
“Do you want it salvaged? I can contact a local company and have them try to refloat the Integrity. We don’t know if there was more than one artifact and what else might be on board.”
Karina paused in the bathroom door. “You’re right. Get the best in the business. I want them out there assessing the situation today. There’s no time to waste.”
She closed the bathroom door and allowed herself a moment to sigh. She didn’t need complications, not with Herman Temple and a few others making trouble for her. Her sister’s disappearance hadn’t helped matters. Valeriya vanishing had caused her unwanted problems, and she already had enough to deal with.
She squared her shoulders and headed to the shower. She would find Darius Varkas, find and dispose of her sister, deal with Temple and his cronies, and recover whatever it was that Dr. Bellamy had stolen from her.
She was the leader of the Knights, and she would have what she wanted—power and revenge. They were great motivators.
Chapter Five
The sun was making the ocean waves sparkle like diamonds by the time Ezra made it back to the dock. He usually liked to sit outside and watch the ebb
and flow of the tide, listen to the seabirds, and feel the wind against his skin when he returned from a swim.
Not today.
Today, he grabbed the pair of sweatpants he’d left on the dock and hurried toward the house. It was no longer empty. She was waiting for him, in his bed.
He was practically running by the time he hit the porch. He paused and laid his hand against the front door. What was he doing? Sam wasn’t waiting for him. She was injured and sleeping.
Ezra raked his fingers through his wet hair, not bothered by the droplets of water running down his back. He needed to proceed with caution. He knew nothing about this woman. The fact that he was so attracted to her was a red flag. He’d never felt so attached to a woman so quickly in his long life.
He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside. Silence met him. Good, that meant she was still sleeping. He climbed the stairs, keeping his tread light. Unable to stay away from her, he went to his room and stood next to the bed.
Sam’s eyes were closed, hiding the vibrant green color. She still looked pale, but that wasn’t surprising considering she’d lost quite a bit of blood from the wound on her arm. Or maybe she was normally pale. There was so much about her he didn’t know, including her last name. If she’d had any identification on her, it had been lost at sea.
Time slipped by, and it was only when his stomach growled that he realized he was just standing there watching her. He forced himself to turn away when what he really wanted to do was pull back the covers and climb in beside her.
After collecting jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, he went to the bathroom and closed the door. He needed to shower off the salt water and then get something to eat. Maybe by then Sam would be awake and ready to talk.
…
Sam’s eyes snapped open the second she heard the door close. She sat upright and looked around.
Where am I?
Everything was vague. She’d escaped from the Integrity, or had she? No, Aaron had shot her. Then something had rammed the salvage vessel. It was all a bit of a blur after that. She had no idea how she’d ended up here.
And where exactly was here?
The sound of water running made her turn her head toward a closed door. An image of a man popped into her head. A very big, ruggedly handsome man with brown hair and turquoise eyes and… She closed her eyes and formed a mental image. Tattoos. He had vibrant swirling tattoos covering his left arm and torso. He’d said his name was Ezra.
She opened her eyes again and lightly touched her injured arm. It was bandaged beneath the oversize flannel shirt she was wearing.
The book!
Ignoring the pain in her arm, she reached toward the nightstand. He’d put the book in there, told her it would be safe. She yanked it open and gave a small cry of dismay. It was gone.
“Stupid,” she muttered. Stupid to have trusted him. Had he really rescued her, or was she a prisoner?
Not willing to take a chance, she eased off the bed. The world spun, but she used the mattress and nightstand to keep herself upright. When she figured she wouldn’t collapse in a heap, she took her first step toward the door. She glanced at the bathroom, half expecting Ezra to come charging out to stop her.
When that didn’t happen, she moved faster. She was weak, but at least her knees weren’t in as much danger of buckling. She clung to the banister to make sure she didn’t fall down the stairs. The main floor was mostly open with the living and dining area flowing into a kitchen.
Sam headed for the front door.
When she opened it, the cold November wind blew under the hem of the shirt she was wearing, reminding her that she was naked beneath it. She stepped out onto the porch, ignoring the way the chill seeped into her bones.
She glanced back inside and almost yelled with relief when she noticed her sneakers sitting on the mat. She stuffed her feet into them, ignoring the fact they were still wet and her feet squished when she walked. They were better than going barefoot.
There was nothing for as far as she could see beyond the dock at the end of the path. Ezra’s home was obviously isolated. Did he have a car of truck she could borrow? It wasn’t really stealing, she assured herself. She’d leave it somewhere safe once she was away from here.
The wind snapped through her hair, sending the tangle of curls over her face. She impatiently brushed them away and hurried down the steps. Ignoring the biting cold, she began to pick her way around the house, careful not to trip on anything. She couldn’t afford any more bumps and bruises. Her body had already taken a beating.
It was insanity to try to get away from here wearing nothing but a man’s shirt and a pair of wet sneakers, but there’d been no sign of her clothes. She focused all her attention outward as she circled the house. There was nothing but trees and ocean. By the time she’d reached the front porch again, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach.
She was on an island. Ezra lived on an island. She had no idea if there was anyone else living here, but she hadn’t seen any other signs of habitation. The dock directly in front of his home was the only one she could see, and there was no boat there.
What had happened to the dingy she’d been in? And how did he get on and off the island? Did someone else live here with him? Maybe they had the boat.
For the moment, she was stuck here.
She sank down onto the step, pulled her legs toward her body, and wrapped her arms around them. She knew she should go inside, but she no longer felt the cold. She didn’t feel anything.
The book was gone. Ezra had taken it. That could only mean one thing—he worked for the Knights of the Dragon. She was trapped as surely as if she were in a prison cell. There was nowhere to go.
…
Ezra stepped out of the bathroom already thinking about breakfast and came to a complete stop. She was gone.
He raced out of the room and down the stairs. “Sam?” Where had she gone? Had someone taken her?
No, that was impossible. He hadn’t been in the shower long enough for someone to have gotten onto his island and taken her. She had to be here somewhere.
He started to head toward the kitchen but changed direction when he noticed her sneakers were no longer on the mat. The front door was partially open. She’d gone outside.
He charged out onto the deck only to find Sam sitting there with her arms wrapped around her legs, staring out at the water. He fell to his knees beside her. “What’s wrong? Why are you out here?”
He touched her face and swore. She was freezing. Not waiting for her reply, he pulled her into his arms, stood, and carried her back inside. He kicked the door shut behind him.
She needed to get warmed up right away. She was a fragile human and couldn’t handle the cold the way he could. He set her on the sofa nearest the fireplace and yanked a cashmere throw over her. Darius had bought it for Sarah, to keep her warm on chilly nights. He was glad they’d left it behind.
He removed her sneakers before tucking the ends around her cold, damp feet. He went to the fireplace and lit the kindling there. He might not need a fire to stay warm, but he liked the ambiance one provided. It would be much faster to just breathe drakon fire on the wood, but he wasn’t willing to share that secret with her. If she didn’t know what he was, he wasn’t about to enlighten her. Not yet, at any rate.
When the flames caught and the logs began to crackle, he turned back to Sam. She was sitting there watching him with a blank expression. She looked…defeated. Not at all like the woman who’d stood up to a gun-wielding man.
He went back to her side, crouched down, and began to rub her legs. The cashmere was soft against his hands, but not as soft as he knew her skin would be. “What were you thinking?” He lowered his voice, kept it quiet and unthreatening.
She sighed and closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them once again. “I don’t know who you are or where I am. And the book is gone.” The last was said like an accusation.
“I didn’t think it was safe sittin
g in a drawer. Not when it obviously meant so much to you.” He was walking a fine line here. He couldn’t tell her he knew she’d been shot stealing it. He was supposed to have found her washed ashore in her dinghy, not have actually been there to witness the entire event. “As for your other questions, I told you before, you’re in my home, and my name is Ezra.”
“But where is your home? And exactly who are you, Ezra?”
He ignored her questions and countered with some of his own. “What happened? How did you end up shot and adrift at sea?” He kept up slow, steady pressure on her legs, pushing the warmth of his palms into her. He really wanted to lie beside her and have her snuggled close, but it was way too soon for that.
She sighed and shrugged, wincing when the movement aggravated her injury. “It’s better you don’t know.”
“Do you want me to call the police?” he asked. Maybe if she thought he was willing to do whatever she wanted, she’d be more open.
She shook her head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
“Just what are you involved in, Sam? And why is a book so valuable?”
…
Sam studied Ezra. He wore a pair of faded jeans that clung to him like a second skin and a long-sleeved thermal shirt the color of oatmeal. Nothing special, but he could be on the cover of Rugged Outdoorsman or whatever magazine catered to that kind of audience.
He hadn’t hurt her when he’d discovered her outside. Quite the opposite. She was ensconced on a comfortable sofa, covered in a soft throw, with a fire adding warmth. And he was rubbing her legs.
Could she trust him? Or would that only put him at risk?
She couldn’t take the chance either way. “It’s better you don’t know.”
She sensed his frustration, but he nodded. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” His certainty was both annoying and amusing.
Then something that had been niggling at the back of her brain suddenly occurred to her. “How did you know I was shot?” He’d mentioned it twice. How could he know? He certainly hadn’t been a member of the crew. She’d have remembered him. And there’d been no other ship in the vicinity last night. He’d said he found her washed ashore.
Drakon's Plunder (Blood of the Drakon) Page 4
