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Drakon's Promise (Blood of the Drakon)

Page 3

by N. J. Walters


  She sucked in a breath, gathered the tattered remnants of her courage, and carefully peeked around the corner of the alcove. Seeing no one, she hurried as fast as her legs could carry her back to the library. Her hand was shaking when she set her mug on the desk and fell into her seat.

  She leaned forward and put her head between her legs. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” she muttered under her breath. What had she gotten herself into? She forced herself to breathe in and out. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to puke, she sat back in her chair. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead in spite of the coolness of the room.

  She ignored the coffee and reached for the bottle of water she’d brought with her this morning. The liquid was warm, but her fingers weren’t trembling quite as hard by the time she’d had a few sips. She screwed the cap back on and tried to gather her thoughts.

  Okay, Mr. Temple and his son wanted her to find a specific book. One someone else had hidden or misplaced. A book that sought after would have to be very important. That meant it would have a lot of energy surrounding it.

  Sarah stood and walked around to stand in front of her desk. The task ahead of her was daunting. She had to find that book, whatever it was. She also had to find and contact this Darius Varkas, whoever he was, and warn him before it was too late.

  For the first time since she’d walked into this building, she concentrated on intentionally lowering the walls she’d built in her mind to protect herself from the constant bombardment of unwanted images and information. Because of her affinity with books, she didn’t always have to touch them in order to see the energy emanating from them. Her grandmother, who’d also had the talent, had taught her how to protect herself. Because, really, who wanted to go through life seeing auras shining from almost everything they encountered?

  She’d often wondered why she was more attuned to books instead of jewelry or art. Her grandmother had speculated that books were incredibly personal, especially in the case of ancient handwritten texts and diaries. But even those who only read the books and touched each page left emotional traces behind.

  The books around her began to radiate the energy that had been left behind by the countless people who’d handled them over the years. Most gave off a soft glow, but a small few were surrounded by a darkness that frightened her. She’d encountered these kinds of vibes rarely over the years, and it never boded well when she did.

  “You can do this.” The pep talk didn’t help. If she thought it would work, she’d quit her job and move away. But Herman Temple had the money, power, and contacts to find her. She was no spy, able to cover her tracks. She was a normal person, a librarian with a little extra gift. No, if she was going to get out of this situation alive, she needed leverage, and maybe an ally or two.

  Mr. Temple and his son seemed to think nothing of breaking the law. Just remembering how easily they’d discussed killing someone and kidnapping another left her queasy again. They were evil, pure and simple.

  She’d just started to head down an aisle when she sensed she wasn’t alone. She turned and found Mr. Temple standing in the doorway watching her.

  Chapter Three

  Sarah tried to act natural, but that was beyond her. “Mr. Temple. I didn’t hear you come in.” She was grateful she always acted nervous around the man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice the terror making her tremble inside.

  “No, you seemed absorbed in your work.” He came toward her, and it took everything in her not to break and run. “It’s going well?”

  She nodded and swallowed. “Yes. I’ve made a good start, but it’s a huge job.”

  He nodded, his smile seeming more sly than friendly, his blue eyes piercing rather than kind. “Seen any books in particular that interest you?”

  She shook her head and then nodded. “None in particular, but all of the books are interesting, if you know what I mean?” She had to get a grip on herself. “I’m doing the computer cataloguing of the books but decided to update the card catalogue as well. That way, if something happens to the electronic data, you still have hard files to fall back on.”

  Mr. Temple nodded. “That’s actually a very good idea.”

  He stood only a few feet away now and seemed to loom over her. “I started at the first shelf next to the desk and decided I’d systematically work my way around the room.”

  He turned away from her and ran his fingers over the spines of the books. His movements were ordinary, but she sensed a controlled violence in him that made her shiver. “You should take a few hours and wander around the room—the other two rooms as well, and see if you find anything particularly interesting.”

  Her throat tightened and her knees went weak. She forced her legs to stiffen and prayed her voice would work. “I’ll do that.” She rubbed her moist palms on her pants legs. “Was there something specific you wanted?” After all, this was the first time he’d ventured into the library since she’d started work.

  He turned around, and she tried to look normal. He shook his head. “No. I just want to make sure everything is moving forward without a hitch.”

  “It’s going really well.”

  Mr. Temple canted his head to one side and studied her. His eyes missed nothing. She hoped there weren’t any beads of sweat on her forehead. “I can see that.” He turned away to leave the room. “Spend the rest of the day looking around the library to familiarize yourself with where everything is. I may have a list of books I want you to find on Monday.”

  “Absolutely, sir. Whatever you need, I can find.”

  He paused by the doorway and pinned her in place with his gaze. “Good. That’s very good.”

  He left, but she didn’t believe for a moment he’d gone far. She forced herself to go back to her desk and take a sip of her coffee. Struggling to act normal, she began to stroll around the cavernous room, pausing here and there to pick up a volume.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, she heard the faint tread of footsteps as he moved away. She slumped against one of the shelves and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Her blouse was stuck to her skin, and she shivered even though she was wearing a cardigan over it. She was cold to her bones.

  Whatever book Mr. Temple and his son wanted her to find was valuable enough for them to kill. The information in it must be very special, and very dangerous. Most people thought it was money that ruled the world. Sarah knew better. It was information, pure and simple. And she was the best when it came to ferreting out information.

  Which was why she was in this mess in the first place. If she weren’t the best, she would never have been contacted for this job.

  She couldn’t go back in time and change things. She had to deal with the situation at hand. It was time to use her brain and, thankfully, she had a very good one.

  Leverage. If she was going to survive, she needed something that would give her an edge. She needed a better understanding of Herman Temple and his son, needed to know what drove them to do what they did. The first step toward that end was finding the book they were searching for.

  She opened her senses and peered around the room with fresh eyes. The section with religious texts caught her eyes. Many of the books pulsed with light, but there was one book that emitted a strange combination of both light and dark energy.

  She slowly worked her way around the room, careful not to hurry. Paranoia was setting in, and she wondered if the room might be wired with cameras. The thought of someone watching her while she worked gave her the creeps.

  She finally stood in front of the shelf with the unusual book. It was a Bible. She drew out the large volume and stroked the old leather binding. The title, which was in Latin, was etched in gold leaf. She opened the cover, careful to use just the tips of her fingers, and turned to the first page. It had been published in the seventeen hundreds in France. She turned the pages and was caught by the beautiful hand-drawn illustrations. This was obviously a specially commissioned book and would have cost a small fortune to produce.

  F
ocus, she reminded herself. It was all too easy to lose herself in the books, but that was dangerous. She needed to be sharp. She was just about to close and reshelf the leather-bound Bible when she realized there was something stuck between the pages near the middle of the large volume.

  She struggled to balance the big book and turn the pages. Her heart almost stopped when the pages fell back to reveal a slender volume covered in soft leather. Pure darkness enveloped the small text.

  Sarah dropped the Bible, desperate not to touch the tainted volume hidden inside it. Horrified at what she’d done, she fell to her knees, praying she hadn’t damaged the fragile religious text. She started to pick up the Bible and the smaller book toppled forward and landed almost in her lap.

  The dark energy pulsated, and in spite of her fear and horror, she wanted to touch it, to know what was inside.

  “Everything all right, Ms. Anderson?” She recognized the voice of the security guard.

  Without thinking about the implications of her actions, she grabbed the smaller volume and shoved it under her cardigan, tucking it into the waistband of her slacks.

  “I’m fine,” she told him as he drew closer. “Just clumsy. That’s what I get for trying to turn the pages of a book this large without putting it on a desk first. I was just so taken with the illustrations.” And she was babbling. She shut her mouth.

  “What book is it?”

  She wasn’t imagining the guard’s keen interest. Was he part of whatever Mr. Temple was involved in? It stood to reason he might be. Everyone here might be involved, including Victoria.

  Sarah thrust the book toward the guard, and he automatically took it. “It’s a lovely Bible from the seventeen hundreds with hand-drawn plates. Probably commissioned by a very wealthy man or a member of the aristocracy.”

  The guard scowled and thrust the book back at her as soon as she stood and dusted off the knees of her pants. “I hope I didn’t damage it.” She took the volume and ran her hands over the cover and spine.

  “It’s time for you to go,” the guard informed her. Like the rest of the security team that worked here, he was tall and fit and carried a rather scary-looking gun strapped to his belt.

  “Already?” She shelved the book and headed to her desk. “I do get lost in my work.”

  The guard followed her back to her desk and waited as she shut down her computer. The small leather-bound volume was practically burning a hole through her clothes. She was going to steal a book. She almost hesitated. She could run to the bathroom and hide the manuscript in there until Monday and then return it.

  Then she thought about the man Mr. Temple and his son wanted to abduct and run experiments on. Whatever was going on might be tied to this book. If it weren’t, she’d find a way to anonymously return it at some point in the future.

  “Ms. Anderson?”

  “Sorry.” She flashed the guard a smile. “It’s hard for me to transition from work. My mind is still on that gorgeous old Bible.”

  The guard frowned but nodded as he escorted her from the library to the entrance. She paused at the security booth just inside the front door, and the other guard passed out her belongings.

  She pulled on her warm wool coat, shoved her phone into her purse, and then hooked the leather strap over her shoulder. With every passing second, she expected the guards to grab her and accuse her of stealing. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of subterfuge.

  “Have a good weekend.” She waved at both men and felt their gaze on her as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk.

  Evening was closing in fast, and she hurried to the subway station. The cool air brushed over her face, making her shiver. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and pressed them against her stomach, feeling the outline of the book.

  She wanted to look over her shoulder but didn’t dare. She melded with the sea of humanity and waited on the platform. A short five minutes later, she was on the subway, hurtling along the tracks toward home. She got off at the right stop and made the trek to her apartment building. She didn’t mind the commute. It gave her time to think. Plus, owning a car didn’t make much sense when she lived in the heart of the city. It was too expensive to justify when there was public transportation readily available.

  By the time she stumbled through her front door, she was shaking with fear. She was also totally paranoid. She went straight into her bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights. Outside her third-story window, she saw a dark SUV slowly drive by. Whether it had anything to do with her or not, she had no idea, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  She grabbed her leather knapsack and set it on the bed. She transferred the contents of her purse into the larger bag. Then she unbuttoned her coat and drew out the book from beneath her sweater. It pulsed in her hands, the dark energy creeping up her fingers. She quickly dumped it into her knapsack and added a notebook and pen.

  She wanted a shower in the worst way but knew time was of the essence. She quickly changed into jeans, a warm sweater, and boots before pulling on her coat once again.

  At the last second, she turned on the light in the living room and pulled her drapes. The soft glow would hopefully make anyone watching think she was home for the evening. She slung the knapsack over her shoulders and left her apartment, going all the way to the basement and out the back door.

  She headed for the one place in the city she felt safe—the New York Public Library.

  …

  Someone was following him. Darius didn’t look behind, didn’t have to. He’d known for several days now that someone was tracking his every move. He’d counted at least four different men keeping a close eye on him every time he left his home.

  The Knights of the Dragon had found him. What he didn’t understand was why they hadn’t made a move to apprehend him? What were they waiting for? Perhaps they weren’t 100 percent sure he was a drakon and were watching to see if they could confirm. He’d learned years ago not to try to understand the reasoning or motivation behind any of their actions.

  It was time for him to take measures to protect everything he’d built over his long lifetime. He kept his gait normal. His mind, however, was working fast and furious, cataloguing everything he needed to do.

  By the time he entered his company headquarters fifteen minutes later, he knew what had to be done. “I want Carl in my office five minutes ago,” he told his assistant.

  “I’m on it, sir,” the young man replied.

  Darius removed his wool coat and tossed it over the back of his chair. He wouldn’t be here long. He’d dressed for business, not battle. All the better to lull the men watching him into thinking he had no idea they were there. Imbeciles.

  He reached into his desk and pulled out a disposable phone and punched in Tarrant’s number. His brother answered on the second ring. “Yes.”

  “I’ve got men watching me.” He peered out his window at the Manhattan skyline. He liked the view, but it was time for a change.

  “Shit. You need to get out of there.”

  “Not yet. I need to know who’s behind this. There has to be a money source. I need to find it and plug it.” He turned away from the window, ambled over to his desk chair, and sat.

  “That’s too dangerous, Darius,” his brother objected. “What if they’re government?”

  “If they were, they wouldn’t be waiting. It has to be the Knights. They’re either waiting for someone or something, or they’re not 100 percent certain I’m a drakon. They can’t exactly kidnap a prominent businessman and not expect it to go unnoticed. They’d want to be very sure before they took me. And they’d wait for the best time and location. I don’t exactly live in an isolated area, and I wouldn’t go down without a hell of a fight. The more information I have, the better for all of us,” he reminded Tarrant.

  “I don’t like this.”

  Of course he didn’t. Tarrant lived like a true dragon in a lair in the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. His home was anything but primitive, thou
gh. He had every modern comfort and the latest in electronic equipment. Hell, Tarrant even had his own satellite in space, or rather the communications empire he’d built did. Tarrant tapped into it whenever he needed to.

  “I’m selling my company.”

  Tarrant whistled. “That’s a big step.”

  “But a necessary one. If I go missing for months or years, my business would flounder. I have things set up so my investments can practically run themselves and continue to make money.” He employed a very old and respected firm that had handled his affairs for several hundreds of years, even if they didn’t realize they’d been working for the same man for all that time.

  It was better for all concerned if it stayed that way.

  “I need to have all my attention on the Knights. I can’t afford to split my time. We don’t know anything about this particular group, but Knights in the past weren’t worried about killing bystanders.” And Darius didn’t want more innocent blood on his hands.

  “I understand.”

  Darius knew his brother did indeed understand. They’d all lost human friends over the centuries to members of this dark cult. “If I’m gone for too long, see to my investments and have my belongings stored.”

  “Of course.” Darius could hear the familiar tapping in the background as Tarrant continued to work on his computer while they talked. “You’re not afraid I’ll steal them from you?”

  Darius laughed, as his brother meant him to. Drakons were notorious for hoarding their wealth. He would trust no one else with his life’s earnings. “I’m more afraid of what you’ll invest my money in if I disappear.”

  “All the more incentive to escape if that happens.” Tarrant grew serious. “Do you want me to come to New York? I can be there in a matter of hours.” They all had private jets, so there would be no delay while he waited for a commercial flight.

 

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