Drakon's Past

by N. J. Walters

  He took a moment to appreciate his dragon side and then shifted back. He was aware of both Oscar and Constance watching him with a combination of awe and fear as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on.

  “Let’s go inside.” He walked over to Constance and put his hand on the small of her back. She blinked several times and then walked to the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Nic waited for Oscar, motioning to him to enter. Oscar’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t hesitate.

  Constance was already in the kitchen starting a fresh pot of coffee. “You must be hungry. What do you want?”

  “Have a seat.” He motioned Oscar toward the stools on the other side of the kitchen peninsula. Then he went to the freezer and pulled out a half-dozen steaks. “I’m cooking steak and eggs.” He set the meat on the counter and pulled out the two remaining cartons of eggs in the fridge.

  “You need protein after you shift?” Oscar appeared relaxed, but Nic could tell he was tense. And why wouldn’t he be? He was in the home of a drakon.

  “I need more food on a daily basis.” That was no secret. Anyone involved with the Knights knew that.

  And speaking of getting answers. He needed some of his own. He grabbed his phone, hit the speed dial, and waited.

  …

  Constance wished she knew what was going on inside Nic’s brain. Ever since he’d found out about his mother, he’d become remote, closed off from her. Or maybe it was because he’d been forced to kill a bunch of men to protect himself and her, and then destroy every trace of their existence from the planet.

  Yeah, she was still trying to come to grips with that. Seeing him destroy the statues was one thing. They were small, inanimate objects. Watching him cremate bodies and disintegrate two large trucks had been something else altogether.

  She knew he’d destroyed the warehouse in Vegas, but she didn’t really remember that. She’d been unconscious for most of it and in too much pain to really pay attention.

  He’d been one with the fire in a way she couldn’t explain. He’d commanded the flames, and they’d listened. They hadn’t burned him. The fire had licked at his skin in almost a loving way. It had to have taken an enormous amount of energy to do what he had, but he didn’t look tired. This man was possibly the most dangerous creature in the world.

  And she loved him.

  There was no denying it. She would have died alongside him to protect him. Her heart ached at the thought of him being hurt. But he obviously didn’t feel the same way about her. Yes, he cared about her. Yes, he wanted her. He might even forgive her for betraying him someday. But that didn’t mean he wanted her around once this situation was resolved.

  He had his life, and she had hers.

  She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she doubted he’d appreciate her hug. He’d visibly pulled back from any physical contact, and she had no idea why. But it hurt her deeply.

  To keep from breaking down, she busied herself cracking eggs into a large bowl while he made his call.

  “You’re on speaker,” he told the man on the other end of the line when he answered. “I have a situation.”

  “What kind of situation?” She recognized the man’s voice. He seemed to be Nic’s go-to guy.

  “I need a search on a man named Oscar Denning. And I need it now. He’s sitting in my kitchen.”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  As she continued to break eggs, she could hear typing in the background and knew Nic’s friend was hard at work. She glanced at Oscar. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by what Nic was doing. If anything, she thought she saw respect there. And awe, and a touch of fear.

  “Oscar Denning. Born twenty-nine years ago to Thaddeus Denning. Father deceased. Mother remarried. No siblings.” The man on the phone continued to recite schooling, medical records, service records and more. He was very good indeed.

  Oscar sat a little straighter on his stool, shocked by the in-depth information being given so quickly.

  “What exactly do you want to know about this guy?”

  Nic began to unwrap the steaks and put them on a platter. “He was with Dent’s crew but says he’s a member of the Dragon Guard.”

  “That group again. Are they legit?”

  Nic glanced at Oscar. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but they may be. They know…things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Nothing I want to get into right now, Tarrant.”

  Constance wasn’t sure Nic was aware he’d said his friend’s name in front of them. She knew he didn’t have to be concerned about her, but she wasn’t convinced Oscar wasn’t a threat. But it was good to have a name to put with the voice.

  “I’ve been doing some research, but it’s not easy. There are thousands of role-playing groups and games that use the name.”

  “We’re the original,” Oscar shot back.

  She noticed Nic actually grinned for a second.

  “How far back does your group go?” Tarrant asked.

  “To the beginning,” Nic told him.

  “Huh,” was all Tarrant said. There was more tapping. “He’s been on Dent’s payroll for five years, ever since he got out of the military.”

  “It’s what we do,” Oscar told them. “We get military training and do our service. That makes us attractive to the Knights to hire as mercenaries. We have people embedded with all the Knights of the Dragon.”

  “Why Dragon Guard instead of Drakon Guard?” she asked. She shrugged when both men looked at her. “You know the difference,” she pointed out to Oscar. “You said as much in the yard.”

  Oscar dragged his fingers through his hair. “The Knights don’t make the distinction, so we don’t, either, not publicly. Occasionally, we have to reach out to outsiders for help. We have a lot of information about drakons that we protect.”

  It made sense to her, but Nic didn’t look wholly convinced.

  “If you want us to trust you, you have to give up the names of those members of the Guard you know are with the Knights,” Nic informed him.

  Oscar shook his head. “Any digging around in their records will send up red flags and put them in danger. If they’re caught and killed, it doesn’t do anyone any good. As it is, I’m probably done.”

  “Not necessarily.” Tarrant was still tapping away.

  Constance distributed the eggs between two large pans while Nic set the steaks on the grill pans on the stove. It was almost homey with the two of them cooking side by side.

  She wanted to touch his bare chest to reassure herself he was indeed fine but knew he wouldn’t appreciate it, not in his current state of mind.

  “Okay, let’s try this. If I wanted to feed information to the Knights, could you contact your people and make that happen?” Tarrant asked.

  “Probably.”

  “What are you getting at?” Nic asked.

  “I don’t know yet, but it’s good to have options.” Whoever Tarrant was, Constance knew the man was incredibly intelligent and clever with computers.

  “Oscar,” Tarrant spoke directly to the man.

  “Yes.”

  “I have identified every member of your family, every friend you’ve ever had. You fuck Nic over, and I’ll destroy every single one of them. Do you understand me?”

  Oh yeah, this was the man she remembered from when Nic had been kidnapped by the Knights. He’d threatened her, too. She had no doubt he was capable of doing exactly what he promised he would.

  Unlike her, Oscar didn’t seem surprised. “I understand. I have no plans to fuck anyone over, but if something unexpected happens, spare the innocents.”

  “There are no innocents.”

  “That’s enough, Tarrant.” Nic flipped the steaks over. “I think he’s legit.”

  “Okay then, but I’ll be telling the others.”

  “Others?” Oscar asked, echoing what she was thinking.

  “I’ll call when I have more.” The line went dead. Nic turned off his phone and shoved i
t into his pocket.

  The eggs were cooked and the steaks were almost done. Nic put a single steak on two of the plates and the rest back on the platter. She put eggs on both her and Oscar’s plates and then dumped the rest onto a plate for Nic.

  “Let’s eat,” Nic said. He pulled his food in front of him and began to consume it quickly. She tried to eat but didn’t have an appetite. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but she feared it involved her getting in her van and driving both her and Oscar back to Las Vegas. If that happened, she doubted she’d ever see Nic again.

  He was building walls between them, walls she didn’t know how to scale. And she wasn’t even sure she should. Nic had secrets, ones he might never be willing to share with her. That was his right. But she couldn’t be with a man who wouldn’t open himself up to her. If she tried to be with him and he kept his secrets, kept himself closed off from her, her love would eventually wither and die.

  As much as she wanted to stay, to be with him, she knew she had to leave.

  Constance began to build her own walls against the pain that threatened to send her to her knees. It was all she knew how to do. She’d survive and eventually move on. But her life would never be the same. And she’d never love another man the way she’d come to love Nicodemus Wilde.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “So this is it.” As much as she’d known it was coming, she’d never expected it to occur so quickly. Her stomach ached, and her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him, but this what she had to do.

  Nic stood a few feet from her, peering out over the vast, empty desert. “Oscar is completely certain that Dent didn’t tell anyone about the statues or you. He’s going to collect the bronze statue from Dent’s hotel room before flying back to New York to search his home to make certain there are no notes there, either. He’s also going to remove the more dangerous books and artifacts from Dent’s collection.”

  “And you trust him to do it?” That shocked her.

  “I trust him when it comes to your safety. He knows what will happen to him and his family if anything happens to you.”

  As threats went, it was an effective one.

  “Besides,” Nic continued, “the Knights rarely share information, not when it concerns possibly getting their hands on a drakon. They’re a greedy, grasping bunch. As for the books and artifacts, if Oscar is on the up and up, we’ll be taking something from them, and that’s always a positive.”

  “But what will you do with Dent’s belongings to keep them safe?” That worried her. The last thing they needed was for Dent’s things to get into the hands of the wrong people. She’d seen firsthand what the statues could do. And she had to stop thinking like that. There was no they. Her involvement with Nic was coming to an end.

  “Oscar will send them to a secure post box where they’ll be rerouted several times before being picked up. We’ll decide what to do with them once we know what’s there. Most items will likely be destroyed.”

  It seemed like Nic had everything under control. Oscar was over by her van pretending she and Nic weren’t here. She appreciated his discretion.

  She wrapped her hands around the strap of her oversize bag to keep from throwing her arms around Nic. “I guess I’ll be going then.” When he said nothing, she turned away, eyes burning. She could not break down, would not cry, not in front of Nic. She’d be adult about this if it killed her.

  She’d taken two steps when she heard him swear. Then she was spun around and yanked against his hard body. He slammed his mouth down on hers. She grabbed his shoulders and went up on her toes in order to get closer. That wasn’t necessary as he banded his arm around her back and yanked her against him.

  His tongue challenged hers, and she met him with equal fervor. She couldn’t get enough of him, would never have enough. She loved the way he kissed her with such abandon and complete concentration. His skin was warm beneath her hands, almost hot, like he was running a fever.

  When she made a small sound of passion in the back of her throat, he pulled away. They were both breathing heavily. “Take care of yourself.” He stepped back and dropped his hands by his sides.

  Her knees were weak, but she managed to stay upright. “You—” She swallowed heavily. “You, too.” There was so much more she wanted to say but knew she never would. Nic had made his position clear. He wanted her to leave. He’d called her a treasure but also a liability, a weakness. She was that. If she was with him, at some point in the future, the Knights could use her against him.

  She got that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  She kept her head up as she walked away from him. It seemed like it was taking her forever to get to the van, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other. With each step she took, she prayed for him to call her back, but there was only silence.

  “Want me to drive?” Oscar asked.

  She shook her head and went directly to the driver’s side. When they were both buckled in, she started the van and pulled away. She wasn’t going to look back, but in the end, she couldn’t resist one last glance in the rearview mirror. Nic was still standing in front of his home. He looked so alone. But it was by choice, she reminded herself. He’d let her go.

  She didn’t realize she was crying until the road blurred in front of her. Oscar handed her a tissue without saying a word. She took it and dabbed at her eyes. When they reached the main highway, she turned toward Las Vegas and never looked back.

  …

  Nic watched the van get smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared from sight. The wind caressed his naked chest. The sun warmed his skin. A red-tailed hawk cried out and swooped down toward the ground. Seconds later, it rose again, a small rodent clasped in its strong beak. The bird flew off, and still Nic stood there, his eyes on the road.

  He was alone in his remote desert home as he’d been hundreds—no, thousands—of times before. Why then was he so lonely this time?

  He licked his lips, still able to taste Constance’s sweetness. She was truly gone. He’d sent her away, and she’d gone.

  His chest began to ache, the pain deep and agonizing. He pressed his hand against his heart. Inside him, his dragon was eerily silent. It felt as though something vital had been ripped away from him.

  No, not ripped away. He’d sent her away to protect himself against further hurt, further betrayal.

  But his mother hadn’t betrayed him at all. In the end, she’d done what she’d had to do in order to protect him, her son. She’d done it knowing he might never understand. That’s what love was all about. Doing what was best for the other person.

  He loved Constance.

  He’d sent her away to protect her from future attacks by the Knights of the Dragon. If she was with him, she’d always be at risk and so would her sister.

  He could have protected her. And her sister could be given a new identity, if it became necessary, a new start in life. Tarrant could have seen to that.

  He was a coward. No matter how he tried to pretty it up, he’d sent her away to protect his heart, the same organ that was now breaking.

  Nic slowly went to his knees and fell forward, catching himself on his hands. He was panting hard, his head hanging down. He curled his fingers into the dirt. This was all he was left with. An empty home and empty hands.

  He threw back his head and roared, holding nothing back. The primal sound rolled across the land like a wave of unrelenting power. Nearby trees were flattened by the force of his sorrow. The loose dirt and sand whipped around him like a dust devil pummeling his skin before taking flight on the wind.

  Something trickled down his face and fell to the ground. He ignored it. He sat there panting, feeling hollow and tired.

  While Constance had been with him, he hadn’t even thought about the Deep Sleep. She’d filled those dark spaces with her light, making him smile, giving him hope, making him feel. Now that she was gone, the darkness was back, and the Deep Sleep was in the forefront of his mind once again.<
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  He’d have to wait a few more years. He’d keep a watch over her from a distance, making sure she was okay. It would be both heaven and hell to see her without being with her.

  But could he sit back and watch her marry a man without losing his mind? He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, but not even the sun could warm him. Even his internal fire seemed to have gone cold.

  His brothers had taken their chances and found love. He’d let his one possibility of happiness slip through his fingers. He snorted. No, she hadn’t slipped through anything. He’d all but tossed her aside.

  He didn’t know how much time passed before he opened his eyes. He pushed himself upright so he was sitting on his knees. Shame hit him when he studied the land around him. In his rage, he’d destroyed trees and ripped flowers right out of the ground, leaving the land as bare as his heart.

  Something glittered in the dirt around him. Rubies, blood red and the size of quarters, were scattered around him. There were dozens of them.

  The last time he’d shed a drakon tear had been thousands of years ago. That too had been over a woman. But that woman had loved him.

  Did Constance love him?

  He had no idea. She’d never said. She had risked her life for him, and she’d stood by his side, seeing him at his worst. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him at his best at all. Yet she’d kissed him with abandon, had come into his arms eagerly when he’d pulled her to him that last time.

  His phone rang and he dragged it out of his pocket, hope lifting his spirits before realizing it couldn’t be Constance. She didn’t have his number. Hell, she didn’t have her phone because he’d destroyed it.

  It was Tarrant. He started to snap at his brother, but it wasn’t Tarrant’s fault he was angry. “Hey.” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. It was difficult to breathe.

  “You okay?” The deep concern in his voice moved Nic deeply. He knew he could depend on his brothers.

  “No. No, I’m not.” How could he be okay when he’d ripped out his own heart?