“That’s close enough.” Mr. Fuentes jerked her arm, and Eva screamed. “I don’t think you want to see your new friend hurt.”
***
She fought to catch her breath. “What the fuck is going on? Let go of me!”
Mr. Fuentes tsked. “Your language is most unbecoming.”
“Like I give a shit!”
“Release her, and I’ll let you live,” Balthazar commanded.
Mr. Fuentes laughed. “So, the mighty Bal Anda shows compassion? How quaint.”
Eva flinched when his hand rested on her collarbone.
Balthazar glanced at her. “What the hell do you want?”
“Your brother sends his regards.”
Eva’s mind whirled. Bal? She stared at Mr. Andal—no wait, Anda? “What’s going on?” Her voice squeaked on the last word, and she resented that. She struggled against Mr. Fuentes’ hold. “Will you let me go?”
“You are my assurance that I leave this place alive.” His grip tightened on her arm as his other hand brushed up against her neck. “Bal Anda would tear me to pieces otherwise.”
“I’ll kill you no matter what, and send your head back to my brother.” Mr. Andal took a step forward, and the grip on her neck tightened.
“Don’t!” she screamed.
“The female is smart.” Eva shrank within herself as he slowly traced a finger across her collarbone. “She has good survival instincts. Now back away.”
Mr. Andal looked at her again, and Eva felt her hope slip away as he took a step back. “I won’t let him hurt you, Eva.”
“Oh, how romantic.” Mr. Fuentes held his hand out for her to see, and terror tightened around her heart as his fingers extended into black, needle-sharp talons. She looked back at Balthazar. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
He shook his head.
“Oh, go ahead and tell her, Bal Anda. She was the only one in this motley group of humanity who believed in dragons,” Mr. Fuentes said. She cringed when something sharp tapped her cheek. “Then I’ll deal with you.”
“I think not.”
Eva couldn’t turn to see who spoke but saw a flash of metal slice through Mr. Fuentes’ upraised arm. He screamed in pain, and she was thrown through the air.
“Eva!”
An upturned table filled her vision. She curled into a ball and waited for the impact, but something else happened. A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her, and she fought against their hold.
“Eva, it’s me. It’s Balthazar.”
She saw his golden, concerned eyes. Her instincts told her to fight and escape him, and she kicked out, scoring a hit on his thigh. She whimpered when his grip tightened.
“Eva, I won’t hurt you. Please stop fighting.”
She heard his words, but the urge to get away was too strong. “Let go!”
Eva suddenly found herself sitting on the floor alone as Mr. Andal stood above her. She took a deep breath and winced as pain flashed through her arm and neck. She touched her neck carefully, discovering sore spots. She checked her arm. A large bruise discolored her skin, and it would take weeks before it faded.
She looked up. Mr. Andal stood impossibly tall above her, and his eyes were bright gold against his skin. He didn’t look at her—his attention was elsewhere. She followed his gaze and saw Mr. Fuentes’ sprawled body. His severed arm lay above his head, and a gaping chest wound oozed dark blood.
She slowly rose. “Is he dead?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Sirens screamed in the distance. Some of the guests cried and shouted in the dining room. Eva saw Professor Jimenez lying in a corner and stumbled towards him. Her arm hung uselessly at her side, numb from Mr. Fuentes’ fierce grip.
He lay unmoving on the floor. She fell to her knees and shook him gently. “Professor, wake up.” She slapped him a couple of times, then shook him. “Professor!”
He coughed violently several times before opening his eyes. They were glazed and unfocused.
“It’s me, Eva. Are you all right?”
He turned his head. “Eva.” The sound was a gurgled rasp.
“Help is coming. Just stay still.”
“Rhonda?”
Eva shook her head, remembering the expression on the woman’s face as she fell to the ground, holding her throat as blood gushed around her hand. Eva choked back a sob.
Professor Jimenez tried to rise but fell back. “I had no idea.”
“You wouldn’t have known, professor,” Mr. Andal’s voice said above them. “Emilio Fuentes was an exceptional person.”
“You knew him?” Eva accused.
“No, but I know of him.” He turned to the man who had killed Mr. Fuentes. “Thorsson, destroy the body and get everyone ready to leave.”
“There may be others, Balthazar,” the blond man with him said.
“I know, Lancelot. We’ll get going.” Mr. Andal looked at her. “You’ll need to come with us, Eva.”
“What?” Her question was echoed by the two men.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the man called Lancelot said.
“We don’t have a choice. The bruise on Eva’s arm will mark her to Ti’s other shifters. I can’t leave her alone.”
Eva bit her lip to hide her confusion. Shifters? Mark? “Now wait a minute.” She stood up. “We can’t just leave. The police will need to talk to us about what happened.”
“Exactly why we need to make ourselves scarce now.”
“You’re scaring me.” She backed away. “I’m not leaving with you.”
“Eva, you can’t stay here.” Mr. Andal was suddenly in front of her, and she didn’t know how he’d done it. “If there are others like Emilio Fuentes in London, they’ll smell that mark on your arm and come looking for you.”
She burst out laughing—she couldn’t help herself. “It’s a bruise.”
“It’s a bruise with his scent on it.” Mr. Andal crinkled his nose. “It stinks, but thankfully it’s temporary. But until the smell fades, you’re an easy target for Fuentes’ colleagues. If they find you, and not him, they’ll kill you.”
Her anger flared. “Don’t you dare threaten me.”
“I will say one thing about this woman, she has strength,” his bodyguard said. He stood over Mr. Fuentes’ body, a thin sword gripped in one large hand. Who carried such a thing?
“Lancelot, you’ll need to drive to the airport and get the jet ready. We’ll be right behind you.”
The younger man nodded and ran out.
“Eva, we don’t have much time, but I need you to trust me.”
“Trust you?” She pointed at the dead bodies lying less than five feet from her. “Are you seeing this?”
“If you don’t come with me, they’ll find you.”
“Who? Who are you talking about?”
He heaved a breath. “More like Fuentes.”
Eva closed her eyes to block out the horrible vision before her. Trying to figure out how a charity dinner had morphed into a murder scene hurt her brain. “He’s a killer?”
“Worse.”
She opened her eyes. Balthazar looked down at her. “I promise I’ll explain what I can to you.”
“My lord, we must hurry,” the bodyguard said again, his voice urgent.
He looked over his shoulder. “Radio the others to get the car, Thorsson.”
“Already done. We’re waiting on you.”
When Balthazar looked at her again, his expression softened, and he placed a finger under her chin. “This was not the way I wanted us to get to know each other,” he said. “And I’m sorry you’ve been involved in my mess. There’s much more going on than you can fathom, but I promise, I’ll explain everything to the best of my abilities without sounding crazy.”
His touch inflamed her skin. Eva wanted to hide her face against his wide chest and ignore everything, but his serious expression and the scene around her stated otherwise. “I really have to go with you? There’s no other way out of t
his?”
“Not in London, Eva. But in Iceland, at my home…” He hesitated. “I stand a better chance of protecting you.”
She thought quickly. If he was right, and someone else found her, she had no way of defending herself against an attack. She glanced back at the others.
“They’ll be all right once the authorities get here. Ti’s associates are after me.”
“And me, it seems.” She looked at her arm.
Mr. Andal held out his hand.
Eva took a deep breath, then placed her hand in his.
Chapter 2 - Iceland
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
They had travelled for just over two hours, switching planes at Reykjavík Airport, until they landed behind his house. The night skies were clear with an abundance of stars. The Aurora Borealis shimmered in a delicate veil of luminescent color far to the north. Balthazar loved transforming into his dragon to fly and dive within the Borealis, his blue scales reflecting the colors until he thought he had been absorbed by the mystical elements. Oh, what he would give to shift and fly within those beautiful colors again.
As soon as they landed, Thorsson and two of his men got off—Thorsson with his broadsword, the others with automatic weapons. The excitement in London had dulled Balthazar’s pain, but now it came back, sharp and fast. He doubled over, gritting his teeth and willing Bal to calm down.
“Balthazar?”
Eva’s gentle voice cut through the red haze. Bal rumbled once, and then went silent, taking the pain with him. “Are you all right?” A tentative hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, thank you.” With an effort, he stood straight and took a step away. He didn’t want her to sense his vulnerability.
“Are you sure? Perhaps a doctor—”
“I said I’m fine.” He glanced at her and regretted his words. Her hurt flitted across her face. “It’s an old wound that acts up occasionally. It’s nothing.”
Eva nodded, but the air around her became decidedly colder. “I’d like to call my father, if you don’t mind. He’ll be worried sick by what’s happened.”
“Of course.” He held out his arm, and after a moment’s pause, she accepted his gesture, though she remained aloof.
One of the guards opened the back door, his gaze sweeping the immediate interior before nodding. They entered the wide foyer as Thorsson locked the door behind them.
“Isn’t this all a little melodramatic?” she asked Balthazar as he shed his coat.
“Yes, but I have other things to consider. Your safety, for one. And my brother is unpredictable. I’ve told him never to arrive unannounced, but I can’t trust that he’ll listen to me.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I must ask that you do not inform your father about Mr. Fuentes and the mark on your arm. You don’t want to concern him any more than necessary.”
“Thank you.” Their hands brushed against each other, and he fought the urge to caress hers. Eva walked to a corner of the foyer, close to a window.
“Shall I check the rest of the house, my lord?” Thorsson asked.
“No need. Ti isn’t here, and I’m starving.” He heard Eva’s soft voice as she continued her call. “I need to talk to Miss Haraldsdóttir about my situation.”
“She won’t believe you.”
“She has to, or my brother will find a way to kill her.” The thought of Ti getting his hands on Eva filled him with all kinds of murderous thoughts, and his dragon Bal sounded his agreement. They agreed on Eva, at least.
Eva disconnected her call. “Papa’s not happy, but he trusts you to keep me safe.” She handed the phone back to him. “Although I can’t understand why.” She gave him a look.
“We’ve known each other a long time, but I couldn’t tell you why he feels that way.” Which was true. “You haven’t told him anything?”
“No, the less he knows, the better.”
“Very wise of you. Now I promised the truth. We’ll have something to eat while we talk.”
***
Eva cleaned off her plate and swallowed the last bit of hot chocolate. “God, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.”
“Our dinner did get sidetracked.” He chewed on a piece of shark meat.
“How can you eat that? You and Papa love that stuff.” Her nose crinkled at the rancid smell.
“Shark meat’s good for you. Lots of Omega-3.”
“Salmon works just fine for me, thank you very much.”
They sat at an enormous pine table built for ten guests. The kitchen was brick and wood, with a huge stove commanding the space. A door led out into the darkness beyond, while another lay hidden just beyond the pantry. Eva noticed everything around her—it was her job to notice things—such as Thorsson standing by the door leading outside, and the other men missing.
“How are you holding up?” he asked her.
“Fine, I guess.” She fidgeted in her seat.
“Ask me whatever you want, Eva. I’ll tell you the truth.”
So much whirled through her mind and it was hard to nail things down into a semblance of order. “What did I get myself into, and when will I be allowed to leave?”
“Unfortunately, you got caught in between a family disagreement.”
“You mean a feud.”
Balthazar sighed. “Something like that.”
She crossed her arms. “Look, I’m not stupid. Balthazar Andal—Bal Anda. Bal Anda was a relative of yours, right? An ancestor?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“And the talk about dragons represents your family’s insignia?”
She noticed his hesitation. “Your reasoning makes sense, but not quite.”
“Not quite? Did the insignia belong to the king during your ancestor’s time?”
“No.”
He wasn’t very forthcoming with his answers. She stared at her mug, trying to decide what to ask next.
“What do you know of dragons?”
She looked up, surprised that he actually asked the question. He had leaned forward with his hands clasped together, his golden eyes watching her. “You’re kidding, right?” He remained silent. “This is a serious question?” she asked.
“Very.”
“Before I answer that, I want to know something.” She hesitated.
“Yes?”
“So,” she started, then decided to blurt it out. “What the fuck happened at the hotel? Why was I attacked by Mr. Fuentes who had—” She felt the prick of the Spaniard’s sharp nails even now and shuddered. “Strange hands? I could swear he didn’t have those nails.”
“They were hidden.” Balthazar wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“You can’t hide nails like that!”
“Mr. Fuentes kept them retracted until he killed that poor woman.”
“What do you mean, retracted? Like a cat’s?”
“Precisely.”
The hot chocolate felt sour in her stomach. “That’s not possible.”
“Unless you’re a cat.” He shrugged. “Or a dragon.”
“Oh, come on.” Eva tried to laugh, but it didn’t sound convincing. “There’s no such thing as dragons. Not the kind in the fairy tales I’ve read.”
“Tell me what you know of them,” he repeated.
She decided to play along, if only to get off the subject. “Not much. Only what my father’s told me.”
“What has he said?”
She folded her arms across her chest, thinking about a bedtime story Papa once told her. “Dragons were real to the Vikings. They had power, wealth and intelligence. Their knowledge was vast, and they were fiercely protective of their territory.”
“Anything else?”
She took a deep breath. “They can live for centuries. They’re loyal to friends, and they can’t lie. He also said…” She stopped.
“Yes?”
“They can shift to human form and live amongst people.” Her gaze went past him. “Mr. Fuentes said the same thing.”
“Y
our father’s right. Has he talked to you about whether his ancestors worshipped dragons?”
“Yes, but I admit to not believing any of it.”
“It’s not your original culture, so I’m not surprised. Dragons—the belief in dragons—played an integral part in Icelandic culture.”
“It may not be my original culture, as you call it, Mr. Andal, but it’s more a part of me than anything else.” Her anger flared at his assumption.
“My apologies, I meant no offense. I presumed that your beliefs in the Icelandic culture weren’t strong.”
“Make no mistake, I’m as Icelandic as Papa or you.”
Balthazar nodded, the hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “My family goes back generations. We were rich, powerful and ruled Iceland—that’s the short version. What I’m about to tell you will be harder to believe. My brothers and I—” He stopped. “We are the original Anda family.”
Eva sat still for several moments, concerned the man might be losing his mind. “So you’re telling me that you’re the descendants of Viking royalty.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I’m not missing anything. You expect me to believe that you and your brothers are a family of dragons.”
Balthazar didn’t move, and despite watching him for any signs of lying, she couldn’t read him. “Yes.”
“Do you take me for a fool?” She pushed her chair back. “Believing in a myth is one thing. Asking me to believe that the myth actually exists?” She shook her head. “Unless I can actually see and touch it, I won’t believe it.”
“Fair enough. But what if it was true?” He smiled. “What if you saw a real, fire-breathing dragon? Would you change your mind?”
“You’re crazy.” But his expression said otherwise.
“Dragons don’t lie, Eva.”
“They don’t exist.” This time, she hadn’t quite convinced herself as her mind wandered into dangerous territory. What if there were dragons walking amongst us? She shook her head.
“You’ve discovered amazing fossils of animals that lived thousands of years ago. Use your imagination. If you thought it was even remotely possible to see a dragon, would you?”
Flight of Dragons Page 10
