Manhattan Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 3)

by Genevieve Jack

  It’s important. Please.

  Later?

  Yes.

  How long could a vampire dinner take? Sure. I’ll come by your apartment as soon as I can. It might be late.

  Late’s okay

  See you then

  She hurried out of the building. There was no question which car was Verinetti’s. The black Escalade was armored with bulletproof glass. The thing looked like a tank. As she neared, the driver opened the car door for her. She slid in next to Michael and frowned as the doors closed and the windows blackened. A divider rose between them and the driver.

  “What’s going on, Michael?”

  “Malvern doesn’t like his whereabouts to be general knowledge. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be in the dark until our arrival.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  That was it; Nick had officially lost his mind. He sat in an unmarked car across the street from the Dakota building and watched a white owl fly up to the rooftop terrace outside Rowan’s apartment. Damn it, he had a feeling when Rowan didn’t return his text immediately that there was something going on. Clearly, Verinetti had called in his favor and was forcing Rowan to attend the dinner with that damned vampire, and before he had a chance to tell her what he’d learned from Soren.

  But Nick knew what was going on. He didn’t trust Verinetti any farther than he could throw his body after punching him unconscious, something he very much wanted to do. And that tank of an armored Escalade he rode in was about as inconspicuous as a five-alarm fire. It was funny—these shifters really underestimated humans. He’d found it all too easy to blend into the crowd and walk right past the monstrosity, pausing to casually press the square-shaped GPS tracker he owned to the inside of the wheel well without garnering a single glance from the driver or the people around him. Hell, the driver never even looked up from his phone. Perhaps he was engaged in a rousing game of Candy Crush.

  Surprise fluttered in his chest when his phone buzzed as soon as he was back in his vehicle. So she would meet him tonight, late. After her dinner with Verinetti and the vampire. Nick wasn’t okay with that. He planned to make certain that Rowan had backup if she needed it. Dragon or not, she deserved that.

  The Escalade pulled into traffic. Nick waited a few moments and pulled out too, trailing behind it. He frowned as the Escalade exited Manhattan and drove across the Hudson, heading north. Where was he taking her? He made sure to keep his distance. The red dot on his GPS would tell him exactly where to go. No need to rush.

  It was farther than he’d expected. Did Rowan know Verinetti was taking her to BFE? He pulled off the main road onto a winding drive that didn’t even register on his GPS. The heavily wooded area made him feel like he’d crossed some magical barrier between the city and rural America. Only a little over an hour from wall-to-wall skyscrapers and he was surrounded by a thick blanket of trees. He cut his headlights.

  At the end of that drive, a gate loomed in the distance, lit up bright with security lights. As soon as he saw it, he slowed, then angled the car off the main drive and parked between the trees. Quickly he covered the unmarked car in brush and fallen branches. It wasn’t a flawless job, but at night, under the shadows of trees, someone would have to be on top of it to see it.

  By the light of the moon he walked along the wall, avoiding the secured gate area. The reflections off security cameras winked at him every few yards. He stayed out of sight until he found a spot between cameras where the forest had overgrown the wall. This would have to do. He climbed one of the trees and shimmied out on a limb to see over the six-foot stone barricade.

  The place was a castle. A fucking castle with a watchtower and parapets and guards with assault rifles pacing in front of the front doors and windows. The estate had to be at least twelve thousand square feet, and the wooded acreage around it went on and on, as far as the eye could see. If a vampire bit into you here, no one would hear you scream.

  Who the hell was this Malvern guy? This was a fully operational military compound, for God’s sake. No wonder they didn’t have anyone on this part of the wall; no one in their right mind would go over it unless they had a death wish. Which meant he was stuck on the tree branch, watching helplessly as the Escalade pulled up to the building and Rowan exited it with that piece of shit Verinetti by her side.

  It took over an hour to get from Rowan’s apartment to Malvern’s residence. Over sixty long minutes with Michael dressing reluctantly beside her in a pretentious suit. The length of time they traveled told her nothing. Depending on traffic, it could take sixty minutes to go a couple of miles or it could take them completely out of the city. Once the driver opened the door and Verinetti held his hand out to her, there was no mistaking that it had been the second of those two choices. The grounds were heavily wooded, and the stone castle of a home in front of her loomed on the horizon, a great, glowing mecca under the bright moon.

  “Toto, we’re not in Manhattan anymore,” she whispered as she climbed out of the car.

  “No,” Michael said, “you are not. And you’d do well to remember that. The NAVAK coven has outgrown these quarters, which is why they are expanding into the city, but very few have relocated yet. Stir up trouble here and you’ll have a significant portion of the coven to answer to for it.”

  “Why would I stir up trouble?”

  His eyes lifted to the heavens. “Goddess if I know why you do half the things you do, Rowan.” He offered her his arm, but she refused and started up the steps without touching him. “As I was saying.”

  An extremely tall and lanky vampire, whom she supposed was the butler by the black-and-white uniform he wore, opened the front door for them and showed them to a parlor off the dining room. Her nostrils flared and tingled, the scent of vampire and fresh blood so strong it almost stung her lungs. She followed Michael toward the bar.

  “Now that Lurch is gone, can you tell me if we’re going to be the only warmbloods at this dinner?” she asked.

  Michael shook his head. “The black man in the south corner is one of mine. Werepanther. And those two women and that man over there are blood donors.”

  Rowan looked at the group of three humans and immediately noticed the NAVAK tattoos on their wrists. All were scantily clad with noticeable bite marks on their necks and thighs. A whiff of medicine-tainted sweat reached her nostrils, and she realized they must also be drugged.

  “Will Malvern be serving regular food as well, or should I have had a burger before I came?” she mumbled.

  Michael stopped in front of the bar. “Malvern is an excellent host and will see to your every need.”

  “Drink, miss?” The bartender, whose slightly dropped fangs gave him away as a vamp, gestured to the cart behind him. “We have a full bar or several types of bagged blood if that’s your fancy.”

  “Vodka and tonic please.” She watched the bartender mix her drink and decided the bottles looked untampered with. Still, she gave it a sniff while Michael ordered his favorite Ramos gin fizz. The drink was obscenely complicated, included citrus, egg white, and heavy cream, and required a ridiculous amount of shaking. Who even drank that anymore? For the love of the Mountain, he was a pain in the ass in every sense of the word.

  After a few long minutes of listening to Michael ramble on about how he’d bought his fourth nightclub and was expanding the Wicked Divine brand to milk the most out of the human population, Rowan began to wonder if Malvern would show. Where was he? Wasn’t this his party? Lurch returned, rang a small bell, and announced dinner would be served.

  Michael grabbed her elbow. “Before we go in there, I want to know where we stand. As a shifter, will you finally become a member of the pack?”

  She balked. “Why would you ask me that? I’ve never been a member of the pack. I’m independent and plan to remain so.”

  “And what about us?”

  “There is no us. That’s over.”

  “So, other than protecting this human, there’s no other reason you joined me tonight?”


  “No. I told you I was doing this to keep him safe. He was only in that position because of me. It’s not fair to make him pay for my mistake.” She took a different tack when his eyes clouded with darkness. “I’m your friend, Michael. I have always worked with you when you needed me. This is no different. But no, I don’t want anything more. Not from the pack and not from you.”

  The dark clouds remained in his eyes, but he gave her a curt nod and ushered her into the dining room. At the head of the table, the vampire waited. Malvern’s hair was platinum white and hung straight down to his jaw. His small eyes were blue, and his complexion was as pale as porcelain. Pale as a corpse. The shape of his face made her believe he was originally from Eastern Europe, or maybe Russia. Based on appearance alone, Rowan had no trouble taking him seriously as the leader of this coven or as the killer she’d heard he was. He looked deadly.

  “Michael, you’ve brought a guest.” Malvern’s gaze locked onto her and slid down her body before focusing on her neck. “Won’t you introduce us?”

  Rowan strode around the table and offered her hand. “Rowan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He stared at her hand as if she’d offered him a roll of barbed wire.

  “Vampires don’t shake hands,” Verinetti whispered. “It’s offensive.”

  She retracted her hand. “My apologies.”

  “You must not have much experience with my kind,” Malvern mumbled.

  “No.” She added quickly, “How exciting to experience something new. Is there anything more enthralling than the first interaction with a strange and beautiful creature?”

  His mouth edged up into a tight-lipped smile. “For those with virginal appetites.”

  She flashed her most disarming smile. “Even someone ancient can be new to the right person.”

  “New, yes. But hardly fresh. Any fruit’s edibility is limited, even if it is never plucked from the tree.”

  “Oh, but if that fruit is made into wine, it betters with age, and the first sip is still the most pleasurable.”

  This time his smile broadened and he flashed a little fang. “True. Sit beside me. I’d like to know you better.”

  With a wink, he moved her chair back from the table. She’d heard of vampires moving things with their minds. Only the strongest and oldest could do so. Turn off the lights, unlock doors. For him to so casually draw her chair back, Malvern must be old and powerful indeed.

  “Tell me, are you the freshly picked grape or the wine?”

  She took a seat beside him. “The wine,” she said. “Well-aged, full-bodied, and dangerously intoxicating.”

  Malvern clapped his long fingers together in a creepy way that sent a cold shiver along her neck. She amped up her illusion to hide it.

  “Oh Michael, wherever did you find this one?” Malvern asked.

  “Rowan has been a member of my pack for years,” he said flatly. “I assure you, she can be quite entertaining.”

  “So you’re a shifter?” Malvern asked.

  “Yes. I thought it would be obvious given that I am definitely not a vampire.”

  “Your scent is strange to me. Unlike Michael’s.”

  She glanced back at Michael playfully. “What does Michael smell like?”

  “Day-old butchered duck.” Malvern laughed and Rowan joined in.

  The first course was served, a rocket and radish salad for her and the other non-vampires at the table, a small bowl of blood that gave off the slightest hint of orange for Malvern and his coven mates. She was relieved to be served actual food.

  Michael pouted beside her, obviously still offended by the duck comment. “I wanted to give you an update on our search for that human who infiltrated Wicked Divine the other night.”

  Rowan stiffened and gave him a dagger-filled glare. Why was he bringing this up now? The entire purpose of their visit was to distract Malvern from this topic.

  Malvern sipped his blood and frowned. “Down to business so soon, Verinetti? All right. Tell me, have you found the walking blood bag?”

  “We believe he is the father of one of the younger girls in the herd. I have a team of sniffers out tracking him down. He should be dead by morning.”

  Rowan relaxed. Michael lied so convincingly even she couldn’t tell, and she knew his statement wasn’t true. She just hoped it wasn’t partially true. It wouldn’t be beyond Michael to hunt Nick down. Her dragon pressed to the surface. If Michael hurt Nick, she would kill him, with pain. She wrestled herself under control.

  “Good,” Malvern said. “Stevenson, talk to your friends on the NYPD and make sure we have protection for the auctions. We will pay whatever we need to. My coven must be fed.”

  Rowan’s head turned. Stevenson. That was Gerald Stevenson at the end of the table. The same Gerald Stevenson who had bought Sunrise House right out from under her. The same Stevenson from whom she’d stolen the Raindrop of Heaven. When had he slipped into the room? He hadn’t been in the parlor earlier.

  “Already done,” Gerald said. “We have several integral members of the NYPD on payroll already. They will be avoiding Wicked Divine and squelching any cases that could be problematic for your coven.”

  Oh no, Nick! Did he know who was on the payroll? If she knew anything about Nick, it was that he had a good heart. He would never allow that girl’s murder to go unpunished. He was probably still investigating it. Not only that, his friend Soren had been at Wicked Divine. Could they trust him? How much about that night had Nick shared with his partner? If Soren was compromised, all her efforts toward taking the heat off Nick would be for naught. She’d have to warn him tonight, as soon as she got back to his place.

  “Now to more pleasurable topics,” Malvern said, turning his attention back to Rowan. “I mentioned that Michael smelled like day-old duck. Do you know what you smell like?”

  She shook her head.

  “Nothing I’ve ever smelled before. You have a smoky scent, something exotic. Alligator? Are you an alligator shifter?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What we shift into is a private matter. We usually don’t discuss it.”

  Malvern frowned.

  Focusing on her salad, Rowan hastily filled her mouth. Never had she shared what she was openly with someone she didn’t completely trust. It could never end well. Dragons weren’t from this planet. Her blood and scales could be used for magical purposes. Every person who knew put her at risk. Hell, at this point, she wasn’t happy with herself for telling Verinetti.

  Michael’s fork hit his plate. “Oh, I don’t think we need to keep secrets from Malvern, my sweet. I think he’d be excited to learn there’s a one-of-a-kind shifter beside him.”

  A buzz of fear started between her ears, like wasps had taken up residence in her skull. What did he think he was doing? Surely Michael wouldn’t reveal her secret. They had a history, and she’d kept her end of the bargain tonight. Besides, what would he get out of it?

  Malvern finished his blood and set the empty bowl down on the middle of the gold charger in front of him. “One of a kind? Now I am intrigued. Does that mean you’ve never met another shifter like Rowan, Michael, or there are no others like her?”

  Michael looked down his nose at her, his expression smug. She felt his hand on her own beneath the table. The touch was a question. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what he was thinking. If she returned his touch, he would keep her secret. If she pulled away, he’d tell Malvern she was a dragon. She hated Verinetti in that moment with a red-hot rage that seemed to scald her from the inside out. Defiantly, she ignored his touch.

  “I’m not all that special,” she said, raising an eyebrow in Malvern’s direction.

  “Oh, I disagree,” Malvern said. “You’ve already proven yourself to be a unique specimen. Now tell me, Rowan, what are you?”

  Michael’s touch shifted higher on her leg.

  She dug her nails into his skin and shoved his hand away from her. Glaring at Michael, she shook her head. “Nothing worth sha
ring.”

  Verinetti’s expression turned hard and ice cold. “You’re too modest. Rowan is a dragon.”

  The room went absolutely silent. Malvern’s small eyes rounded to the size of saucers before his expression took on the quality of carved marble. He snapped his fingers, and Lurch appeared beside him. He whispered something in his ear. Rowan could barely make out what he said but thought she heard the words message and high priority.

  Once the servant had left his side, Malvern stood from the table and held his hand out to her. “Rowan, may I speak with you privately for a moment?” He offered her a reassuring smile.

  She glanced at Michael, who leaned back in his chair and grinned at her. That bastard. Rowan had to stop herself from openly growling at him. Later, she’d make sure he paid for this. For now, this was a situation that required diplomacy.

  She slipped her hand into Malvern’s icy grip. With a gentle tug, he led her into a private study. Once the door was secured behind him, he turned to her.

  “I hope you will forgive me for interrupting dinner, but you seemed uncomfortable talking about what you are in public. Is it true? Are you a dragon? Or do you mean a komodo dragon?” He tapped his nose. “That is why I smell alligator. You transform into a lizard.”

  Glancing toward her toes, she said, “No. I am a dragon. The kind that flies.” She hated this, but there was something she needed from him, and clearly he found what she was interesting. Perhaps they could make a deal.

  “Extraordinary.”

  “Now that you know, I wonder if we could discuss some business related to your taking up residence in Manhattan.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

  “As a dragon, I could be of use to your coven. I am very powerful and know Manhattan like no other supernatural. Verinetti isn’t the only game in town.”

  “You are proposing an alliance?”

  “I only ask for one thing in return. There’s a building in the Upper West Side near Morningside Heights, the home of Sunrise House community center. You’ve purchased the land beneath it. I’d like to buy it back from you. I’ll give you double what you paid if you’ll agree.”