Dragon Heartstring (11 page)

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Authors: Juliette Cross

BOOK: Dragon Heartstring
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Chapter 12


T
hank you
, Aunt Asheera.” I hugged her close on her hotel room terrace. “It’s been so difficult to wrap my head around the fact that he is meant to be mine.”

She pulled back and squeezed my shoulders. “It is not the first time a human and Morgon were meant for each other. It will not be the last.” She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear in her maternal way. “Remember that our very existence comes from the union of a human and a dragon.”

I smiled at that. “Morga and Radomis.”

“Yes. As the tales tell, soulfire burned hot and hard within his breast from the moment he saw her. We cannot deny this pull when our dragon calls to us. You must tell Demetrius the truth.”

Readying for flight, I moved toward the edge of the terrace. “I will.”

“I know you’re afraid. But you must tell him.”

“I’m just waiting for the right moment,” I said, looking back over my shoulder.

She smiled her knowing smile and shook her head. “Youth. You’re always waiting for something. Tell him, Shakara.”

I blew her a kiss and beat my wings hard, lifting up into the air. My Nightwing Security shadow wasn’t far off. I’d actually gotten used to him following me. He remained far enough behind so not to make my dragon edgy, but close enough to watch for danger.

Dusk was creeping into darkness as I headed home. My wrist comm beeped. It was Carra, sending a text message that we had a last-minute patient, a human boy. I veered my course and made short work of the flight to the clinic.

I slowed, soaring over the Warwick district, and punched a quick message to Demetrius I’d be late for our date at 7:30. He replied immediately he’d pick me up at the clinic. I smiled at how fast the stern businessman had become my doting boyfriend. And I was glad I’d worn my pretty pink skirt and black blouse to work today.

The street level was quiet since most businesses were closed except for the bistro and a few clothing shops. After landing in front of the clinic, I took a second to smooth down my skirt and wave a hand to my guard who kept vigil on the rooftop of the building across the street. I slipped into the clinic, but Carra wasn’t at her desk. She must be with the patient and his mother.

“Carra?”

The light in my office was on. Before I reached the open doorway, I sensed someone’s heartbeat thrumming like mad, the acrid taste of fear in the air. I peeked in without going in. Carra was bound and gagged in my office chair. She shook her head back and forth, trying to scream a warning.

I fled back down the hallway but was grabbed from behind, carried into an examination room, and slammed with my back to the wall.

“Ah!” My head rattled and my wings were crushed by the weight of the hideous man pressing his weight against me. A rough hand covered my mouth.

“If you scream for help, I’ll break your girl’s neck in the next room.”

He was a large bald-headed man with cold eyes and an even colder voice. “Do you understand?”

I nodded. He lifted his hand away from my mouth. I shifted enough to flatten my wings so they were no longer pinned in a position where he could break them with his suffocating weight. He wrapped his fingers around my throat, applying slight pressure.

“What do you want?” I asked, breathing hard.

His gaze swept down my body then back up. “I’m here to hurt you.”

“Wh-what?” Now it was
my
heart beating frantically in my chest.

Keeping one beefy hand on my throat, his other covered my breast and squeezed till I gasped in pain. “There are a number of ways to hurt a woman,” he said, grinning like a sadistic demon. “Boss didn’t say how I could do the job.”

“Who the hell are you?” I spat out, anger riding hard alongside the fear. “Who sent you?”

His groping hand reached for something in his back pocket. I slashed out with my fingernails and raked his face, kicking up with my knee at the same time. He blocked my knee but couldn’t block my hand. In one rough move, he picked me up and slammed me face-down on the examination table. My lungs squeezed as he leaned all his weight on me from behind, my wings falling out straight. He gripped the top arch and bent to the point of pain.

“No!” I begged, barely able to breathe with him on top of me. “Please
don’t
.”

He eased up but kept a tight grip. I heard a metallic flick, then he showed me the knife he held in his hand. “I’m going to break this pretty wing after I break your pretty spirit.” He pressed the blade to my cheek, enough that I could feel the sharp prick of steel but not so hard that it broke the skin. “Such soft, pale skin.” He glided the flat of the blade down my cheek. “Should I put a nice scar here first?” He released my wing then fisted a hand in my hair and wrenched my head back.

“Ow!” The sting on my scalp was quick and sharp. Panic gripped me hard. There was no escape now.

He glared down with a vicious grin, his foul breath wafting down. “Since you got a piece of my face, I think I’ll take a piece of yours.” He jerked my head again, grinning wider when I whimpered in pain. “Keep still, bitch, if you don’t want to bleed out.”

He moved the knife toward my left eye. Cold terror ripped through me.

“No. Please.”

Suddenly, his weight lifted off me, and he dragged me back with him. I hit the cabinet, the knife clattering to the floor. There was grappling in the hallway just outside the door. I scrambled to my feet and rushed through the doorway to find Demetrius kneeling over the man, beating the hell out of him. The man was already unconscious. Blood spattered as Demetrius continued to rain blow after blow in a maddening frenzy. Something crunched. I thought he was going to kill him.

“Stop! Demetrius, please stop!” I grabbed his forearm, which snapped him from his savage trance.

He was on his feet and had both arms around me in a split second, breathing ragged and body trembling violently. “Are you all right?”

I hugged him hard, finally allowing the tears to fall for what might have happened. “Yes.”

He pulled back and cupped my face in his hands. Bloody spray had speckled his cheek. “My God, Shakara. Tell me you’re all right.”

“I am. I’m fine. You’re here. I’m fine.”

He seemed to need me to repeat it to believe it, his eyes still stormy with rage. Pressing his forehead to mine, he said my name so soft, like a desperate prayer. “Shakara.”

“I’m okay. It’s okay now.” My inner healer wanted to help him find peace even though it was I who’d been in danger.

He pulled away long enough to punch a number on his wrist comm, then tugged me close again. Someone answered his call.

“What’s up, man?”

“Max, I need officers here at the Morgon clinic before I fucking kill this man who just attacked Shakara. You have three minutes.”

“We’ll be there in two.” The comm call clicked off.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“A friend. Come with me,” he said, ushering me back toward the front reception area.

“Wait! Carra. She’s tied up in my office.”

Demetrius’s gaze darkened further. “I’ll take care of her.” With one hand around my waist, he guided me all the way out the door to the street and waved in the air to the building next to us.

Within a heartbeat, my body guard landed next to us, closing his giant silver wings with a rush of wind. “What happened?”

“Where were you?” barked Demetrius accusingly. “You didn’t see the man who entered the clinic?”

I put my hand on Demetrius’s chest. “He couldn’t. The man was already in there when I arrived.” I nodded to the guard whose name I still didn’t know. “He had followed me from my aunt’s hotel and wouldn’t have seen him.”

Demetrius clenched his jaw. “The receptionist is still inside in the back.”

My body guard swept past us without a word and went after Carra.

Sirens wailed, drawing closer. It was under two minutes when Demetrius’s friend screeched up to the curb. A man with dark hair wearing street clothes hopped out of a black sedan with lights on the dash.

“Who was it?” he asked as he stepped up next to us.

The other officers strolled past us into the clinic. The spinning blue lights were comforting somehow.

“I’ll give you one guess,” said Demetrius.

“I bet he’s bald and wears a trench coat.”

I sucked in a breath. “How did you know?”

The man nodded and smiled at me, a hint of the devil in his eyes. “Hi, there. Maxwell Rivers at your service.”

“Hello.”

“Max.” Demetrius cut through the niceties, his expression still dark and grave. “You’d best pay a visit to Aron Grayson. Because if I do, I’ll murder him in cold blood for this.”

“Warning received. You stay away from Grayson. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not joking.”

“No,” said Max, still lightheartedly. “You don’t appear to be. As I said, I’ll take care of it.”

“Shakara!” Carra ran up to me, her mascara in streaks down her face.

I hugged her close. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He was asking for you. Before I could message you a warning, he grabbed me and tied me up. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I gave her one more squeeze then asked Max, “Can someone give her a ride home?”

“Of course.” He waved over one of the guys.

Another officer exited the clinic and stepped close to Max. “Uh, we’ll need an ambulance.” The young man glanced at Demetrius, eyes wide. “The perp, well, he needs medical attention.”

“Then call a damn ambulance,” said Max authoritatively. “Is your comm broken or something?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no sir.” He rushed away to his police car.

“Newbie,” said Max with a shrug before angling a heavy look at Demetrius. “Get her home.”

Max obviously made light of the fact the young officer hadn’t expected to find the perpetrator lying unconscious with his face beaten bloody. The man was lucky I’d stopped Demetrius before he’d done worse.

With a hand on the small of my back, Demetrius guided me toward his vehicle across the street. Once the car was moving away from the scene, he reached over, clasped my hand, and pulled it into his lap. Neither of us said a word until I realized we weren’t heading toward my apartment.

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

He’d never taken me there before. He swerved into an underground garage. I didn’t know the human business district well, but I knew what this building was.

“You live at Cade Technologies Tower?”

“I have an apartment on the top floor.”

Once out of the car, he was glued to my side again. I wasn’t about to complain. I was still shaken from the attack. Once inside the elevator, Demetrius punched in a code, a series of numbers and letters. A green light lit up next to the Penthouse button, which he then pressed. The elevator rose.

“Let me see your wrist comm,” he said.

I raised my wrist. He scrolled through to my notepad and typed in the same combination of letters and numbers.

“Now you have my code to get into my place any time you need.”

“Thank you.” I took his hand, still feeling the anger billowing off him. The energy was a fierce bite in the air. “Who else has the code?”

“No one.” He looked down at me with an intense expression. “Only you.”

The elevator dinged. We walked out into a foyer with an open archway leading into his place. Dark wood floors stretched across a room that was double the size of my apartment. One entire wall was nothing but glass with a stunning view of the business district.

“Wow,” I said, stepping closer to the view of the city lights.

He strode into the kitchen, stripped off his jacket, and tossed it on a sleek, black marble countertop. He removed his tie and button-up shirt, leaving him in his white undershirt. He tossed the rest aside and ran his hand under the faucet. The hand he used to pummel my attacker. I yearned to heal any wound he might have, but something told me he didn’t want tending to in that way. Men felt guilt when they couldn’t protect their loved ones. He showed all the signs of that sort of manly regret. He needed to feel the pain of the wound.

I gazed out at the city again. “Such a breathtaking view. But I can’t see the mountains from here.”

“No. We’re facing south,” he said quietly, coming up behind me. “Are you hungry?”

“No. I’m not hungry.” I wanted to remove that forlorn look from his face, but I didn’t know how.

He walked to a shelf and picked up a remote. To the right of a cream velvet sofa was a modern fireplace encased in glass. The fireplace lit up the room with one click of his hand, the flames dancing on the shiny wood floors.

He moved to the sofa, sat, and held out a hand. “Come and rest, Shakara.”

I wanted nothing more. I sank onto the sofa and stretched out across his chest. Softly moving my wing out of the way, he wrapped an arm around my waist. I laid my hand over his heart and smiled to hear the steady beat was slower, calmer.

“Kraven should’ve been there,” he said, still angry.

“Who’s Kraven?”

“The Silverback from Nightwing Security. Your guard.”

“Demetrius, he couldn’t have known that man was in the clinic.”

“He should’ve known something was suspicious. Silverbacks are known for their strength and speed. If he’d been there, that fucker wouldn’t have gotten his hands on you.”

I crossed my arms on his chest, resting my chin on my hands. “How do you know about Silverbacks?”

Pulling his gaze from the fire to me, he shrugged. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“Have you now?”

“I want to know everything I can about Morgons,” he said sincerely. “I want to know everything I can about you.” He paused and brushed my hair away from my cheek. “Maybe I should take some time off from work until the hearing is over.”

“And what? Follow me around twenty-four hours a day?”

“Yes. Precisely.”

“Demetrius Cade finally takes a holiday to follow his girlfriend around.”

He switched gears quickly. “Please tell me you’re all right. When I remember him—”

I pushed up quickly and wrapped my arms around his neck, my body pressed to his. “Shhh.” I kissed him softly. “He didn’t hurt me.” Another kiss. “He didn’t have time.” Another. “Because my man saved me and nearly beat him to death.”

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