“I just will.” If they were going to do this, it was best to get it done.
He kicked back a corner of the area rug to expose the wide-plank hardwood floor, went down on his knees, and spread his arms wide, hitting hidden pressure points. A small section of the floor sank down and slid aside.
“That’s so cool.” Sam came down on the floor beside him and peered into the opening. Then she scrambled back. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be seeing this.”
His brothers would probably agree with her. “It’s fine.” He leaned down until his eye was over the retinal scanner. It made a low beep and the green light came on. He had sixty seconds to input the twenty-four-digit security code. After that time, a small charge inside the safe would be armed and would explode, destroying whatever was inside. Tarrant was nothing if not thorough.
Ezra quickly punched in the security code and another light flashed green. He turned the small handle and the safe opened. The only thing inside was the plastic bag containing the book. He lifted it out.
Sam was sitting in the chair she’d occupied earlier, leaning forward and watching him intently. “I feel like I’m in some action adventure movie. That’s some safe.”
He caught himself before he blurted out that it was his brother’s idea. He left the safe open, as he intended to put the book back as soon as they examined it. He walked over to his desk and removed the book from the plastic bag. The leather and pages were slightly damp. He hoped they weren’t too damaged, or maybe that would be for the best. Maybe he should just destroy it.
Sam was out of the chair in a heartbeat, hovering beside him. “We should be wearing latex gloves.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Although, I suppose after everything the book had been through, it won’t matter too much as long as we’re careful.”
“Can you feel the book?” Sam had told him she sensed the power of certain artifacts, and he believed her. He placed it on his desk and took a step back.
“Yes.” She started to reach toward the book and then pulled her hand back. “It was muted in the safe.”
“Titanium.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting.” She bent forward and examined the cover. “No title. Good leather binding.” She glanced up at him. “May I?”
Ezra opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a seventeenth century dagger he used as a letter opener. He flipped the small weapon into the air and caught it by the blade. He heard Sam’s breath catch as he offered her the handle. “This way you don’t have to touch it to turn the pages.”
“Right. Smart thinking.” She slowly took the dagger. She raised it into the air and studied it in the sunlight pouring in through the door and windows. “This is fine steel. The ruby in the pommel is genuine. Looks Spanish.”
“You have a good eye.” It pleased him that she was knowledgeable about such things.
“Salvage?”
He shot her a grin. “Treasure hunt.”
“You do that kind of thing?” He could sense her excitement.
“Occasionally.”
They grinned at one another, and then Sam cleared her throat. “Right. I should open the book.” She slipped the tip of the blade beneath the edge of the leather cover and pushed it back.
Ezra stood beside her, ready to grab the book if it seemed like it might be a danger to either him or Sam. “It’s a private journal. The handwriting is quite good. It’s amazing the ink isn’t more faded than it is. It was protected in several containers and not exposed to sunlight or air, so that probably helped.” She ran the tip of the blade over the title page. “Herein are the observations and thoughts of Frederick Bazal, member of the Knights of the Dragon.”
The ink was crisp, but Ezra didn’t think it was drakon blood. The Knights had a nasty tendency of using that instead of ink to write their treatises as it protected the book and the writing from virtually everything, including drakon fire. Only a drakon’s own fire could destroy his blood. It was an evolutionary trait, probably developed to keep drakons and dragons from destroying one another. It was only recently they’d discovered another way to destroy such books, and it had come at a steep price.
The fine hair on the back of his neck rose when Sam pushed back the next page.
She frowned and moved closer. “This is a combination of Latin, French, Spanish, and Ancient Greek. Some of the symbols are Egyptian and others Etruscan. Whoever this Frederick Bazal was, he was a scholar. He changes languages randomly and frequently.
Ezra peered over her shoulder. “The contents of this ledger are for the Knights of the Dragon. Death to those who are not ordained in the blood of their great mission.”
Sam jerked back and stared up at him. “You can read this?”
“Told you I was good at languages.”
“You’re not good. You’re exceptional if you can decipher it so quickly.” Sam was practically vibrating with excitement. “What do you think he means about death to those who aren’t, what was it?”
“Ordained in the blood of their great mission,” he repeated. “In other words, if you aren’t a member and haven’t drunk of dragon blood.” He studied the writing on the page. “Why would it matter if they’ve drunk dragon blood or not?”
“Do you think there’s a basis to the curse, or is it just to scare anyone who might stumble across it?” She inserted the tip of the dagger under the next page and flipped it.
It was something to consider. “I don’t think the Knights are the type to do something without it having meaning.” Which meant the book was dangerous and could possibly be booby trapped in some way. “Blood of their great mission,” he repeated.
“They probably mean dragon blood, but since they couldn’t have found any, maybe they used some other sort of blood in their rites.”
“What makes you think they didn’t have dragon blood?”
Sam stopped looking at the book long enough to stare at him. “What makes you think they did?”
He pointed to the book. “This man could speak many languages fluently. He was educated, probably rich. Why would he use those exact words if they weren’t true?” He was playing devil’s advocate, but he really wanted to know Sam’s thoughts on the matter. Did she believe in dragons or not?
“People believe”—she pointed the dagger at him—“in fairies and mermaids, sea monsters and gods. Even the smartest, most intelligent people believe in the unbelievable. They’re able to see past the boundaries of reality. Without such people, we’d probably still be living in caves. But even great minds get things wrong sometimes.”
She honestly believed that. Sam didn’t think dragons were real. There was no way she was a member of the Knights. The last shred of doubt disappeared, but his tension remained. The book could still be deadly to them both.
“They thought the blood of a dragon could heal them of all illness, make them immortal.” He could practically see her mind working as she mulled his words.
“Poison.”
“What? Is there a recipe there for poison? Or maybe it’s one of the formulas they used to trap and enslave a dragon?”
Sam was shaking her head. “No. The paper might be infused with poison. It isn’t common, but some alchemists did such things. That way anyone who stole their journals and tried to read them would die.”
Ezra grabbed Sam and swung her away from the book. “You didn’t touch it, did you?” He knew she hadn’t, but that didn’t stop him from running his hands over her shoulders and down her arms.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. She held up her right hand, which still held the dagger. “See. Only the tip of the blade touched it. Besides, I might be totally off base. It might simply be words to scare an unwary reader away, much like the Egyptians carved such curses into the sides of sarcophagi.”
He knew Sam was right, but he was growing warier of the damn journal with each passing second. Sam patted his arm. “Let’s look at the next page.”
He didn’t like this book one damn bit. Everything the Knights touched wa
s tainted and perverted in some way. It was their nature to do so. “Fine.”
He frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Did you handle the book when you first discovered it?” Maybe it wasn’t laced with poison. If it was, she’d have absorbed some of it. She might have gotten sick, maybe even died.
She shook her head. “No. I was too concerned about damaging it.” She patted his arm and positioned herself in front of the book once again. She held the tip of the blade just above the writing. “This seems to be some kind of spell or incantation.” She started to read the Latin words and the air in the room began to shimmer.
“Stop.” Ezra slammed the book shut.
Sam grabbed his hand and yanked it away. “What did you do? You’re not supposed to touch it. What if the leather has been poisoned?”
“Didn’t you feel that?” he demanded.
…
Sam was worried about Ezra. Not only had he touched the book with his bare skin, there was a wild fury in his eyes. But she couldn’t deny he was right. She tossed the dagger onto the desk and dragged her fingers through her hair, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling running through her. “I did feel something.”
It was best to be honest with him. “It was almost as though something was compelling me to read the words on the page, but why?” And how was it even possible?
“Because you can.” He grabbed the dagger and used it to flip the book back into the bag before sealing it tight. “Because you’re one in probably a handful of people alive who could simply pick up this book and read the contents.”
“I don’t understand. You’re making it sound as though the book has a will of its own.” And didn’t that just give her the willies. She’d been around ancient artifacts all her adult life, and she couldn’t deny that some items held unexplainable power.
“It does. It wants to trap a dragon.”
“But that’s crazy. There’s no such thing.” There was something in Ezra’s demeanor that was frightening her. He was more intense, more focused, more angry than he’d been in the short time she’d known him. That was it. He wasn’t just angry, he was furious.
“The book is dangerous and needs to be destroyed.” He made to grab it, but she wrapped her hands around his powerful forearm. It was like gripping steel.
“Why? It’s just a book.” But she didn’t believe that for one second. There was something about it, something compelling.
“Is it?” He glared at the small object. “And what would have happened if you’d finished speaking the words?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. And I don’t know, either, but I’m not willing to take a chance whatever you do will unleash something neither one of us can control.”
“This is crazy. You know that, don’t you?” She wanted reassurance when she suspected there was none to be had. “There’s no such thing as magic and curses.” She desperately wanted that to be true, but she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she was wrong.
“No such things as magic and curses,” he repeated. She wanted the old Ezra back, the one that smiled and kissed her. This Ezra scared the crap out of her.
Right now, he was humming louder than any artifact ever had. That gave her pause. She only responded to ancient, dangerous artifacts, the kind that revolved around the mystical. She’d always believed the aura and power she picked up on were imbued by the belief and worship of the people using the artifact for decades, sometimes hundreds or thousands of years. This was the first time she’d ever had to face the fact that the artifacts themselves might be the source of the power. It was also the first time a person had ever given her that sensation.
“Just as there are no such things as dragons?”
She nodded slowly, afraid to do anything that might set Ezra off. As frightening as he was, she wasn’t afraid for her safety but for his. There was no telling what he might do if she set him off. Was the power from the book affecting him? Maybe some poison was leaching into his system from where he’d touched it.
That had to be it. “We should wash your hand and get you to a hospital.”
Ezra shook his head. “What?”
Sam nodded. “The binding of the book. There could be poison pumping through your body right now.”
The look he gave her was incredulous. “You think I’m out of my mind because of poison?”
“Yes.” She had to believe it, because the alternative was too scary.
He put his hands on her shoulders and yanked her close. He was big and scary, yet all she wanted to do was burrow closer. She had to help him.
“I’m not crazy,” he told her. “The power of the book is real.”
“How can you know?” she demanded. She was walking on unsteady ground, as though her view of reality was about to be pulled from beneath her.
“Because, sweet Sam, I’m a drakon.”
Chapter Eleven
Sam was falling into the turquoise depths of Ezra’s eyes. He believed what he was saying. But he hadn’t called himself a dragon, had he? No, he’d said something different. “A drakon? You mean a dragon?” Was he confused? Was the binding on the book indeed poisoned?
“No. I mean a drakon.”
Maybe it was best to humor him, keep him talking until she could figure out what to do. “Okay, what’s the difference?”
Ezra grabbed the baggie and tossed it back into the open floor safe. When he slammed the thick metal door shut, the floorboards automatically shifted back into place. As much as she wanted to keep reading it, to know what it contained, there was no denying the thing was incredibly dangerous. She’d felt something as she read the words on the page. Something that left a queasy sensation in her stomach and her palms sweating.
He prowled toward her, reminding her of a predator on the hunt. She should be scared to death but was more fascinated than anything. Worried, too, but not about herself.
“A dragon is a mythical creature that came through a portal from another dimension over four thousand years ago. They’re cold-blooded, cold-hearted, immensely powerful creatures.”
He took her hand and began to pull her from the room. “Where are we going?”
Ezra ignored her and kept on talking. “Using their great power, they were able to temporarily take the shape of men and mated with human females.” They reached the front door and he opened it. “They had sons.”
She was getting confused. “Who had sons? The dragons and the human women?” It felt crazy to be saying such things, like something out of a fantasy novel.
“Yes.”
The cold bit at her hands and face and breezed up the hem of the oversize flannel shirt she wore. Ezra didn’t even seem to notice the temperature.
“So what happened to the children?” She had to hurry to keep up with his long, powerful stride. She only had socks on her feet and walked gingerly along the path.
He stopped abruptly, and she almost plowed into his back before she managed to stop herself. He whirled around. “Not children. Sons.”
Intensity rolled off him in waves. She was getting very worried the book had done something to him. “Why don’t we go back inside and talk about it?” She kept her voice calm and low.
The look he gave her was incredulous. “I’m not out of my mind or poisoned.” He started back down the path to the dock. “The children were always sons. When they became teenagers, it was evident something wasn’t right with them. They weren’t human. But they weren’t dragon, either.”
Sam managed to yank her hand from his when they reached the first wooden plank of the dock, but only because Ezra released her. “What were they, then? Drakons?”
She didn’t know if she should humor him or make him face the truth. This entire situation was spiraling out of control. And why did Ezra believe he was such a creature?
“Dragons could hold a human form for a short time. But the base form of a drakon is that of a human.” Ezra yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside. Sam was immediately mesmerize
d by the breadth of his chest and the swirls of his tattoos.
What was he doing? “Please.” She held out her hand. “Let’s go inside.” She needed to get him out of the cold and away from the dock. The Atlantic Ocean was unforgiving in November. The water temperature was frigid and she was afraid he was going to jump in.
He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his muscular thighs. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. He looked like an ancient god standing there on the dock totally naked, with the wind whipping his brown hair back and his turquoise eyes flashing like jewels.
“Drakons are cunning and strong, with the instincts of a dragon and the intellect and emotions of a human.” He raised his arms to the sky. “Look at me, Sam.”
She couldn’t look away if she wanted to. She took a step toward him, wanting to help him in whatever way she could. “Let’s go back inside. We can have some coffee or hot chocolate and discuss this.”
There was no boat around, no people, no one but her to help him.
Ezra smiled at her. “Watch me,” he whispered. Then he dove off the side of the dock.
“No!” She raced to the edge and peered into the water. Where was he? Where did he go? “Ezra!” She screamed his name. He was going to die of hypothermia if she didn’t get him out of there quickly.
She almost collapsed onto the dock when his head popped out of the water. “Come here. Please.”
“Watch me, Sam.”
“Ezra.” She fell to her knees and extended her arm over the water. “Take my hand. Please.”
The air around him seemed to shimmer. His tattoo began to pulse, turning the water around him a deep blue. His features began to blur. She blinked and yanked her hand back. His skin was no longer skin, but a series of shimmery blue scales, outlined in the same deep turquoise shade as his eyes. His head flattened on top and became wedge-shaped. His entire body seemed to explode, becoming something else entirely. Something massive.
Sam fell back on her ass. She’d obviously been poisoned somehow and was hallucinating. “Ezra,” she whispered. The creature whipped its head around and stared at her.
Drakon's Plunder (Blood of the Drakon) Page 10
