by Emma Nichols
Stephen smiled. “Well, we can go through a drive thru on the way.”
My eyes widened. “Burgers. Big. Juicy. Loaded. And fries. I want to hear my arteries clogging while I eat.” I rubbed my gurgling stomach. “Oh, and a soda the size of my head. I’m dying back here.”
An hour later, I was fed and dressed, while we approached the Biltmore. Apparently, all the guests were booked at the Inn and being transported to the estate for the party. I wasn’t ready to commit to staying yet, so I made other plans. “Hey, Stephen, do you mind if I just leave my bag in your trunk? I’m already in costume and feel like a complete freak, since you made me wear it from the shop.”
“You look fine, Mr. Draco. And I’ll add this to my collection,” he joked as I passed him the backpack.
“Collection?” I eyed him curiously.
“Yeah, I’m holding onto a couple of bags for Miss Peri too.” He shrugged. “No one else is using the car tonight. And I believe a shuttle was booked for the airport tomorrow. My services and my trunk are all yours.”
“Thanks,” I muttered as I squirmed in the backseat. My breeches felt tight on my thighs and ended just below my knees where they met the hose, which I thought I’d never wear. The fur-trimmed, heavy brocade doublet over my shirt tickled my nose. Okay, I rather liked the fur, but God, these shoes were horrible. No grip on the sole. No treads. I skidded slightly on the pavement while exiting the vehicle. “How the hell does anyone walk in these?” I grumbled to myself, completely convinced I was going to break my ass before the night was over.
“I wouldn’t know, sir.” Stephen struggled to hide a smirk.
I blew out a breath. “So, through those doors and out onto the grounds, huh? No problem.”
“I’ll wait out of sight for you, sir.” He gestured toward a dark corner of the lot with plenty of tree cover.
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks!” Then I struggled to find the nearest staff member to confirm where I needed to be.
Following the directions of the staff, who were also dressed in costume, I managed to find my way out onto the lawn where the party was being held. Normally, when entering an event, I liked to take a moment and scope it out to get a feel for the place. This time, when I opened the door to step outside, I was met with screams, shrieks, and people running in all directions. After several seconds, I realized the guests were genuinely scared. Now I had to figure out why, and find Peri.
Peri
* * *
“A toast,” Devon announced as he stood and raised his goblet from the head of the table.
I’d been wandering around, meeting and greeting everyone, encouraging them to take seats for the dinner service when he made his proclamation. From across the lawn and despite the dark, our eyes met and I could see him motioning. I was supposed to be seated to his right. Nodding, I mouthed, ‘Be right there.’
Devon gave me thumbs up before speaking again. “I’d like to thank all of you for being here tonight. You placed your faith in Draco Investments and made our third quarter the highest gain in over a decade.”
“Here, here!” Glasses were raised and there was a hum through the crowd.
“Ma’am, I have your seat right here,” I whispered to the older woman who hadn’t left the open bar since it began serving nearly two hours ago. The bartender winked at me and I half led, half dragged her to the empty chair near the opposite end of the table.
Then Devon cleared his throat and silenced the crowd again. “Most of all, I’d love to thank my beautiful and amazing assistant, Peri, without whom none of this would be possible.”
Immediately, I teared up and my cheeks grew warm. I smiled at Devon as he raised his glass to me, blew me a kiss, then took a big swig. I’d finally settled the woman into her seat and I was walking the lawn to my seat when I saw Devon set his drink down hard. I rushed, thinking the glass was about to tip over. Then I replayed the evening in my head. This was his first drink. No way should he be tipsy.
Devon glanced at me before gripping the sides of the table with both hands. Seconds later, he had toppled over onto the ground. My mouth opened, ready to scream, but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe. I rushed to his side and crouched on the ground. People had bolted from the table. Some were shouting orders, calling for help. Others were frightened and reacting in sheer panic.
Reaching down, I touched his forehead. Seconds later he began to convulse. I didn’t have a phone on me. I felt Devon’s pockets, hoping he might have one on him. Nothing. I stood and saw it by his plate. Grabbing it, I tried to call 911, but a man came rushing toward me and shoved me aside. The phone went flying from my hand and skidded across the wet grass out of sight.
“Dammit! I was calling for help!” I hesitated long enough to look at the man’s face, but it was obscured by a mask, similar to the one in Phantom of the Opera.
“Where is it?” he hissed in Devon’s ear.
I quickly realized he wasn’t trying to help. In fact, he might have been the one to harm him. “Move!” I shouted. “I need to save him.”
The man laughed. “It’s too late to save him. You can’t even save yourself.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a gun.
Glancing at Devon, I realized he was already dead. A vacant stare had replaced the light in his eyes. I covered my mouth and tried to stifle a sob. How the hell could he be gone? The man now stood, looming over me with the gun. Without thinking, I dove at him, knocked him off his feet, and the gun slid out of his hands. He scrambled toward it, but I’d already managed to get to my feet. Kicking off my heels, I lifted my skirt and raced off into the darkness toward the tree line. Suddenly, the last thing I wanted was to be around people. I trusted no one.
Peeking over my shoulder, I could hear footsteps behind me. I wondered if it was him or if I was running away from someone who might actually want to help me. Ducking behind a tree trunk, I soon discovered, with the help of the moonlight, the man was behind me.
So, I turned and kept running. There were stones, mostly covered by leaves, so they weren’t as debilitating as they could be, but the pain was bad enough to slow me down. I tried not to think about it. Luckily, the guy wore dress shoes and wasn’t faring much better. My lungs began to ache. There was a sharp pain in my side. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a runner. I was barely athletic enough to do yoga. I shook my head as tears blinded me. Why was I running? What was the use? The guy was probably just going to get me anyway. Devon was dead. What the hell would I do now? Still, I kept running, until I reached a clearing and figured this would be the end. He’d have a straight shot at me if I couldn’t reach the next group of trees.
Suddenly, there were gusts of wind rushing down at me from above. I looked up, saw the wings, and stopped running. In fact, I struggled to stay on my feet. Exhaustion, fear, and hunger were beating me down. The dragon landed in between me and my would-be attacker, then let out a shrill scream before breathing fire at the man. He started to raise the gun to shoot, but the dragon’s talons closed around him, picked him up, and shook him. I heard the pop, like he’d managed to squeeze off a shot anyway. The dragon dropped him, and he hobbled off. Finally safe, I wilted, dropping to my knees, and then falling over. My eyes opened once, briefly, long enough for me to see a giant of a man standing over me with smiling eyes and long, shaggy blond hair. I grinned. “Mishal, you came,” I whispered, then everything went dark.
3
Mishal
* * *
“What are you doing?” Stephen asked as he scrambled out of the car. “And what’s going on in there?” His eyes were wide with fear.
“Listen, my brother and I run Draco Security. I was sent here for work. I head up the personal security division.” I opened my mouth to finish explaining, but he interrupted.
“Well, it looks like you’re doing a bang-up job.” He gestured to Peri, unconscious in my arms.
“Her boss has been murdered,” I continued.
He shook his head. “Remind me to never have you gu
ard me.”
Now I no longer cared about offering an explanation. “Shut the fuck up and open the car door,” I growled. Once he did so, I climbed in the backseat with Peri in my arms. After shutting the door, Stephen hopped in the front.
“Now what? Or am I still not allowed to speak?” the driver grumbled.
“You were a lot nicer earlier,” I noted.
He frowned. “Well, I hadn’t been working for twelve hours then. And I didn’t worry I was ferrying around a killer.” Stephen looked at me pointedly.
“I saved her. That’s my thing.” I rolled my eyes. “Never mind.” I stared out the window. “We need to get out of here before the police show up.”
Even as I spoke, several cop cars with lights and sirens came blaring up the road. “Right now, I trust no one. I have no idea what’s going on, or who’s involved.”
“So, we’re not talking to the cops?” His brows rose.
“Nope. Not a word.” I held Peri a little closer to my chest.
Stephen inhaled deeply. “Am I going to regret this?” He peered at me through the rearview mirror.
“Not if you do as I say,” I murmured. “Drive.”
“Where?” He threw his hands in the air.
The man had a point. Peri had a room, but we couldn’t exactly go back there. I didn’t have a room for us either. I closed my eyes so I could picture the map of the area.
“This is no time to sleep,” Stephen mumbled.
“I’m not sleeping. I’m thinking.” I huffed. Then I recalled a little cottage on the property. “I need your phone.” Stephen looked at me and I could feel his resistance. “My phone is in the trunk. You call then. The Biltmore cottage. Let’s see if it’s available. We’ll rent that. I have cash. And we check in under your name.”
“My name?” He shook his head wildly. “How’d I get involved in this?”
I sighed. “Just lucky I guess.”
The reservations were made. By some miracle, the cottage wasn’t already booked. Soon we were standing inside. “Here are your bags,” Stephen announced. “I guess I’ll just be going…”
“Nice try.” I blew out a breath. “How much do you make an hour?”
He puffed out his chest. “I make twenty dollars an hour.”
“Cool. Have you been paid for your work yet today?” I reached into my bag and pulled out the bank bag. After I unlocked it, I started counting out hundred dollar bills.
Stephen watched me, fascinated. “No, not yet.”
“Here,” I passed him a wad of bills. “It’s five thousand dollars. You can count it. I won’t be offended.”
“But that’s more than ten days working twenty-four hours a day!” His eyes widened.
“Yes, well, plan to be at our beck and call. I’ll be sending you for groceries. You’ll be driving us wherever we need to go. And I don’t want an argument about any of it. Got it?” I stared at him sternly.
“No argument. Yes, sir.” He smiled so widely I thought his face might crack.
“Pick your room. You take one. We’ll take the other.” I nodded and urged him up the stairs. He glanced at Peri and I knew what he was thinking. “I’m not sleeping with her, but I refuse to leave her side. You might as well take the other room. I’ll sleep sitting in a chair if I have to.”
“I’ll get your bags,” Stephen whispered as we climbed the stairs. When we reached the top, he peeked in one room, then the other. “I think you’ll be more comfortable in this one,” he explained. “Look, there’s an ottoman. If you have to sleep sitting up, at least your feet will be up too.”
My shoulders sagged. “Thank you, Stephen.”
He walked in, dropped our bags on the floor, then closed the door behind him as he exited. With one hand, I swept the bulk of the pillows off the bed. Then I laid her on the comforter and folded the other side over her, sleeping bag style. As soon as I was certain she was comfortable, I checked out the rest of the house to ensure all the windows and doors were locked, and the curtains drawn. Confident we were safe for now, I settled into the chair, kicked off my shoes, and studied Peri.
Her feet had kicked out of the comforter, and I was suddenly aware of the cuts and abrasions she’d suffered while racing through the woods barefoot. Standing, I tiptoed into the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with warm water from the sink. After wringing it out, I grabbed a hand towel and sat on the end of the bed. Slowly, I moved the bedding and the hem of her dress out of the way so I could wash her feet. If she ended up with an infection, I’d feel terrible.
Slowly, I wiped away the dirt and inspected her cuts for debris. Then I patted them dry. Peri had cute toes and tiny feet. A recent pedicure had her nails painted a pale pink. And for some reason, I wanted to kiss them. Actually, at the moment, I wanted to kiss all of her. Inhaling deeply, I tucked her feet in with shaking hands. When I finished, I glanced up and realized she was watching me.
Peri
* * *
“Hi,” I whispered, after I blinked a few times. The lighting in the room was low, but somehow, I still couldn’t trust my eyes. “Are you really here, Mishal?” I slowly propped myself up on my elbows. I hadn’t seen the man for many years, but he hadn’t changed a bit.
Mishal moved up the bed to sit at my side. "How are your feet?" His brow furrowed with concern.
I glanced down at them. They hurt, but I'd never let on. "Good as new," I lied.
He pursed his lips. "You don't have to hide things from me. I can read everything I need to know in your face."
Inhaling sharply, I sat up. "Like what?"
He shook his head and frowned. "Now is not the time. We need to talk about what happened tonight."
My eyes burned so I closed them and pressed my palms to them. "He's dead. Devon, my boss." Slowly, I moved my hands and opened my eyes to watch his reaction.
"I saw. How did this happen?" He leaned closer as we spoke, but I inched away.
Shaking my head, I tried to explain. "I can't think when you're that close."
Mishal tilted his head and studied me before he scooted back a good eighteen inches. "Is this better?"
I tucked my feet under my dress and pushed myself up against the headboard. "Some," I admitted quietly. Sure, I could more easily concentrate, but for some reason I missed his closeness too.
"Peri, I need to know what’s going on. You called your uncle for a reason." He stared at me. “Start with telling me about tonight.”
"We had our best third quarter earnings in a really long time," I began.
"For what?" He licked his lips and I was momentarily distracted.
I groaned and then I rubbed my forehead. "Investments. Draco Investments."
"Right. Go on," he urged as he tucked some of his long blond hair behind his ear.
"I spent two months planning this party. Devon stood up to toast his clients and me, then he took a drink, and died.” My bottom lip trembled as I recalled that horrible moment.
"Did he die fast or slow? Was he convulsing or contorting?" His brow furrowed as he shot off questions he needed answered.
I wrapped my arms around my body. "I'm not sure. I just remember the fall, the look on his face as he collapsed, like he wanted me to help and I had no idea how..."
"Think," he demanded.
"Why?" I glared at him. "I don't want to remember that moment. It was terrible. My heart broke in that instant." I choked for a moment as I tried to hold back my tears.
Mishal reached out and took my hand in his. I stared down at his warm fingers laced through mine. "This is how you help him," he murmured. "This is how we catch his killer."
For a second, I focused on his soothing touch before I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths while I tried to recall every painful detail surrounding Devon’s death. "It was fast. Well, it seemed fast and in slow motion all at the same time. He was at the head of the table and I was way down at the other end. I didn't even have time to reach his side.” I squeezed Mishal’s hand for comfort. “
Devon grabbed the table, then he just...fell over." I stared into Mishal's eyes. They were blue, but so different from Devon's. "He grabbed his chest. Then it was over. I was crouching there by his side."
"From what you described, my guess...cyanide. It’s fast-acting and has similar effects." He wrapped his hair up into a bun and used the ponytail holder he had around his wrist to secure it. "Your uncle sent me to talk to you. He said you know something about the dragons dying. If this is all connected, you're in danger."
I swallowed hard and nodded. “I expected as much. The guy said I was in danger, the one chasing me.”
"We have to figure this out. We especially need to figure out that man’s identity." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Crap. We should try to catch the news, see what the police are saying."
He snatched the remote and clicked the television on. As soon as the screen lit up, he began flipping through, stopping when he found the first news channel.
"Police are searching for this woman,” the anchor announced while a picture of me appeared on the screen. “Peri Winkler is a person of interest. She was last seen fleeing the scene of the crime. If you know anything..."
Mishal clicked off the television. His mouth hung open for a split second before he shook his head. “Your name is Peri Winkler?”
“Yes.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You want the long or short version?”
“We’re kinda on a time schedule here.” He jerked his thumb toward the wall clock in the dining room.
“Right. Short version it is.” I took a deep breath. “So, when I was born, Mom hemorrhaged. The doctors had to perform emergency surgery. She ended up having a hysterectomy, which is why I’m an only child and why she didn’t speak to my father for days afterwards.”
Mishal interrupted. “Wait. She didn’t speak to him because of the surgery?”
