Dragon's Lair (5 page)

Somehow challenging a dragon didn't make a lot of sense. She rolled her eyes at the thoughts running unchecked through her mind.

He was a man. Not a mythical beast, just a man. He stroked the soft spot beneath her ear. And she swallowed a groan as heat pooled low in her belly. Oh, yeah, he was just a man all right. One who knew every inch of her body almost better than she did.

More than anyone else alive, Braeden Drake, the Dragon of Mirabilus, possessed the power to melt her resolve to be impersonal with nothing more than a simple touch. A gentle stroke, a mind-numbing kiss, a lingering caress, and if she wasn't careful, she'd fall to her knees with hungry wanting.

And he knew it.

“Was there a reason you asked us down here?” Braeden said to Sean. His breath rushing hot across her ear fed the hunger she fought to control.

“You mean other than to explain what's on your woman's car?”

Alexia froze at Sean's remark. She hadn't been Braeden's
woman
in years. The implication would only force her husband to behave even more possessively.

Instead, he lowered his arm. For less time than it took her to gasp, she missed his touch.

As if nothing were amiss, Sean headed for the car. “You're going to like this.”

Braeden placed his hand at the small of her back, urging her along, and they fell into step behind Sean. “Considering your obvious sarcasm, I'm sure it'll be something interesting.”

As they approached her Thunderbird, she noticed an older man standing off to the side. Braeden waved him over. “Harold, this is my wife, Alexia.”

Danielle sighed loudly, but said nothing. The valet frowned, but extended his hand. “Good to meet you…Mrs. Drake.”

The unfamiliar greeting felt strange. Harold's hesitation made it obvious he didn't know Braeden was married. “Nice to meet you, too, Harold. Thank you for taking care of my car.”

“No problem, ma'am.”

Danielle motioned to the roof of the car. She waited until the three of them stood alongside the vehicle before explaining, “This wax pattern is from an ancient ritual.”

Braeden said nothing, but Sean barely concealed a choked cough. He'd always found Danielle's fascination with spells and rituals a waste of time.

So had Alexia—until she'd started translating ancient texts. Now she wasn't so certain.

Blunt as usual, Danielle asked, “Why did you come here?”

After ensuring her mental wall was firmly back in place, Alexia asked, “What business is that of yours?” She couldn't help herself. When it came to Braeden's aunt, it was easier to be rude.

“Your reasons might assist me in determining which ritual was being performed.”

“She brought me some pages from the manual.” Braeden looked at Alexia. “Did you ever meet the man who wanted to hire you?”

Meet him?
“Not in person, no.”

“Hired her for what?” Danielle's voice climbed half an octave.

“To translate the pages.”

“I suppose you gave him what he asked for just to spite us even more.” The woman's loathing was palpable—that hadn't changed. She'd gone out of her way to prove that more times than Alexia could count.

Braeden intervened. “No, she didn't.”

Alexia put her hand on the car for support. Otherwise, she would have fainted at his defense of her.

Braeden directed Danielle's focus back to the car. “So, what's this?”

After glaring at Alexia one more time, Danielle said, “A ceremony to track her. The white, orange and purple candle wax point to a scrying ritual.” She touched the red spot in the middle. “Obviously whoever did this was doing so for a female.”

Alexia knew that much by the wax—red for a female, black for a male. “Didn't they need some personal effect?”

“Was your car locked?”

“No.” They all looked at her like she'd just admitted to a crime, so she explained, “The lock broke a few months ago and I haven't gotten around to getting it fixed yet. Nobody breaks into cars back home.” Apparently that assumption was wrong.

Danielle shrugged. “Then access to a strand of your hair would have been easy.”

“Yeah, but why go to the trouble of performing a ritual out in the open? They could have been caught. Wouldn't it have been easier to use an altar somewhere private?”

Braeden asked, “Where was your car parked?”

“At the museum, near the college.”

“It's nearly Halloween.” Sean added, “This time of year, who would think twice about some student burning candles on top of a car?”

“But we're talking about a small town in the Midwest. It's not exactly a hotbed of wizards and witches.”

“You'd be surprised,” Danielle muttered under her breath. “It doesn't need to be a hotbed, just takes one—”

“One who wants the manual,” Braeden finished his aunt's sentence.

Danielle touched the melted wax, then shook her head. “But I don't see how this particular ritual would have helped. It was most likely repeated at an altar, with a crystal ball, bowl or mirror.”

“Then what was the point of doing this to my car?” Alexia chipped off some of the wax with a fingernail.

“To let you, or us, know you would be followed.”

Braeden asked, “If you didn't meet the person, did you ever talk to who wanted to hire you?”

Alexia glanced at the wax and shivered. “Not on the phone or in person. But yes, we did…chat, so to speak.”

Danielle's sharp gasp drew everyone's attention. “You let down your guard to a stranger?”

“Not on purpose. But it didn't matter, he slipped through quite easily.”

“One of the Learned sent her here.” Danielle gasped and raised a hand to her chest as if protecting her heart. “You've brought danger to us all.”

“That was probably the idea to begin with.” Braeden put an arm around his aunt, pulling her close. “But don't worry, it'll be fine.”

“Fine? How can you even think that? They killed your parents. They'll not rest until they rid the world of Drakes. You know that, Braeden.” She pointed a shaking finger at
Alexia. “Get rid of that woman once and for all. She's nothing but a curse personified.”

Alexia had to hand it to Danielle—her theatrics had greatly improved over the years. Or
was
it theatrics? Was Danielle going overboard out of guilt? Or to cover her steps. When it came to spells, potions and invading someone else's mind, there was no one better than Danielle Drake.

“She can't stay here, Braeden. Surely you see that. Look at what's happened at Mirabilus. She's nothing but trouble. We'll all end up dying.” Danielle slid a measuring look toward Braeden. Was she baiting him or gauging his reaction?

“You're seeing things that aren't there.” Sean's tone was sharp.

Danielle tore out of Braeden's embrace to confront Sean. “You may not have honed your powers, but they do exist. Have you forgotten the things that have happened to this family? The things she's done to this family? I haven't. I want her gone. Now.”

“Done.” Alexia opened her car door, then looked at Braeden. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No.” Braeden grasped her arm, pulled her away from the car, pushed the door closed, then glared down at her. “Perhaps you didn't understand what I said. You aren't leaving here until I say you can.”

She jerked free of his hold. “You can't stop me.”

“I could stop you physically if I so desired. But I don't need to use brute force.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You won't get too far without finances.”

Had he slipped into her mind without her knowing it? No. She'd have felt his intrusion. Since he didn't know for certain that she was broke and had no credit cards, he planned something else.

Alexia dredged up what little bravado she had left and returned his glare. “Do you always resort to magic to get your way?”

“Magic?” To her complete shock, he laughed. “It's the twenty-first century, Alexia. We have these little boxes called computers. I can close your nearly empty bank account and cancel your credit cards with the push of a finger.”

“You wouldn't.”

A challenging smile crossed his mouth. “Try me.”

Certain he was overestimating his power to keep her in place, she retorted, “You don't have that kind of capability.”

“Don't I?” He frowned as if thinking, then spouted off her checking account number and miserable balance before adding, “Your last credit purchase was three days ago at the bookstore down the street from your town house. You paid $24.99 plus tax for a book called
British Folk Tales.
”

Alexia nearly choked on a scream of outrage before shouting, “You've been tracing me?”

He shrugged. “Obviously, not closely enough.”

Sean whistled softly. “Good God, Braeden.”

“What?” Braeden turned his attention to his brother. “You don't find it a little odd that people started dying after her paper was published?”

“What are you saying?” Alexia grasped the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Are you saying that I'm to blame?”

He looked down at her hand. When she released her hold, he asked, “Can you prove you aren't?”

She had no way to prove it except by her word. And she knew how much he'd trust that. While she wasn't personally to blame for what was happening at Mirabilus, she was indirectly at fault. She had to find a way to right what had gone wrong. But how?

“Then she needs to leave here.” Danielle repeated her suggestion.

“No.” Braeden glanced from her to his aunt. “No. If it is a Learned, she's in way over her head. She's staying. We can use her knowledge.”

Danielle visibly bristled. She literally shook from her toes to the top of her head. “What can we possibly use from her?”

Good question.

“None of us can change the fact that the paper on the Dragonierre's Manual is out there. We know what trouble it's already caused. There's no telling what else will happen before this is all finished.”

Alexia flinched.

“Just burn the thing and get it over with.” Sean's suggestion sounded so simple.

“No.” Braeden was adamant. “That was tried centuries ago and somehow it turned up again—bringing more grief along with it.”

Apparently he'd already thought this out. The realization only fueled a throbbing in her head. Had he calculated everything every step of the way just to get her here?

He reasoned, “If it's translated, we'll learn why people are willing to kill for it.”

“And you want
her
to do it?” Danielle pointed one long, red-nailed finger at her.

“Who better? She knows her job and she's here.”

“Isn't that convenient?” Alexia cringed at Danielle's bark of laughter. “Oh, yes, she knows her job. At whose expense?”

Braeden drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I've already made up my mind. She stays.” He looked pointedly at Danielle. “And you will leave her alone. Am I understood?”

Immediately, his aunt's entire countenance changed. She came forward and placed a hand lightly on Braeden's chest. “I only want what's best for you. Don't get involved with her again.”

“And I want what's best for Mirabilus and Dragon's Lair. Anything beyond that is between Alexia and me.”

Alexia's heart thudded heavily in her chest.
Anything beyond that—such as?

Danielle glared at Alexia before promising, “I'll leave her alone. Just be careful, Braeden.”

He waved Harold over. “Put her car in with the family vehicles.”

The family vehicles? Alexia scanned the garage area. “Where's that?” Not that she was planning a hasty exit, but she'd like to know where her car was going to be parked—just in case.

“Right over here, ma'am.” Harold held out an automatic garage-door opener and hit the button.

A huge door slid up, permitting entrance to a private garage within the larger parking area.

Alexia's breath caught in her throat. The hairs on her neck and arms rose.

Her mind flashed back to her town house and the explosion. Perspiration formed above her upper lip.

Parked inside the Dragon's Lair garage was the same flashy red Rolls Phantom that had raced away from her home earlier.

A
lexia's stomach clenched as if she'd been slugged. Fear and confusion swirled icy cold around her.

Had she not seen a Rolls Phantom at a car show a few months ago she wouldn't have known what it was—or how rare it was to see two within a twenty-four-hour time frame. The vehicle was too new for many to be on the road yet—unless you had enough cold hard cash.

Slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice, she stepped away from Braeden.

Would he have gone this far to get even with her? Was Braeden the one behind everything, including blowing up her town house? Had he expected her—wanted her—to be inside? Or had he done so knowing full well that he would be the only one she'd run to when she had nowhere else to go? The thought that Braeden could possibly be behind all this dried her throat. She
tried to swallow the bile that made its way up from her stomach.

To her horror, it all added up. He had the manuscript. Obviously he had the wheels, too. He also had the ability to dance around inside her mind. Surely it'd be easy enough for him to change the sound of his voice so she wouldn't recognize him. But wouldn't his presence have felt familiar to her, instead of frighteningly strange and inhuman?

Harold opened the trunk of her car, snapping Alexia out of her shock. She'd pulled over at the first rest stop on the expressway to exchange her boots for the sneakers in her workout bag and to unload and stow her gun in the trunk. “No, wait, I'll—”

Too late.

He'd already pulled her gun from the holder anchored inside her trunk and handed it to Braeden while asking, “Your bags, ma'am?”

“I…don't…have…any.” Teeth gritted, she enunciated each word. The man had no business handing her weapon to Braeden.

Danielle shot Braeden a look Alexia couldn't decipher before muttering something unintelligible under her breath and storming from the garage.

Harold looked from Alexia to Braeden. He cocked an eyebrow before turning to close the trunk. “I'll just go park the car.”

Braeden stared at the Beretta in his hand. “What is this?”

While that most likely wasn't what he'd meant to ask, she refused to supply him with any information other than the obvious. “A gun.”

Braeden's lips thinned and his frown deepened. Ap
parently her answer didn't meet with his approval. She didn't care. Right now, gaining his approval was the least of her concerns.

She took another step away from him. “Where…” She swallowed again, trying to calm her voice. “Where were you yesterday?”

“Yesterday?” He moved toward her, slowly, as if stalking prey.

“You heard me.” Again, she inched away.

“Here.” Again, he followed. “Why?”

“All day?”

“Yes.” He stared at her intently as she took yet one more step backward. “I've been here all week.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What about everyone else?”

Sean approached, stopping at her side. A frown of confusion marred his forehead. “Alexia, we're trying to open Dragon's Lair. Everyone has been right here.”

Her brother-in-law's voice was steady and seemed sincere. She longed to believe him, but before she could swallow her still-growing fear, Braeden moved quickly and grasped her wrist. He pulled her away from Sean and headed toward the elevator with her in tow. “We need to talk.”

“We've talked enough. There's nothing else to say.” Alexia tried tugging her arm away. “I think I'd rather just stay here right now.” Until she was certain he had nothing to do with her town house or the thugs after her, the last thing she wanted to do was be alone with him. “Let me go.”

Sean stepped in front of them, halting their progress. “Braeden, you heard her. Let her go.”

Confused by his action, it took Alexia a minute to realize Sean was doing what he always did—protecting
someone he deemed weaker. Back in college, she'd witnessed this behavior from him many times. But why would he think it necessary to come between her and Braeden?

“Back off, Sean.”

Alexia's eyes widened at the deep, sinister tone of Braeden's warning. His words echoed in the cavernous garage, making them sound even more deadly, but Sean barely flinched.

“She's obviously spooked by something and you're doing nothing to put her at ease. Let me show her to a room where she can rest while you calm down.
Then
you can talk.”

Alexia didn't argue. She welcomed the idea of having time to sort things out. Before she could take Sean up on his idea, Cameron's voice broke the deafening silence that had fallen between the brothers.

“Braeden, you around?”

Still glaring at Sean, Braeden released her, then slid his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Yes, I'm here.”

“Checked up on your wife lately?”

Obviously Cameron had no idea she was at the Lair.

“Why?”

“Seems her town house was blown up—the authorities think it was arson. They haven't found any bodies and can't seem to find her, either. Did you want to take a run up there—”

Alexia cut him off. “No need, Cam.”

“Alexia?”

Braeden answered, “Yes, it's her.”

“Ah. Then I won't waste your time.” Braeden's twin brother paused a moment before adding, “We do still need to discuss the chief-of-security position.”

“I'll be up later.” Braeden's glare turned toward her as he snapped the phone closed. “Nothing else to say?”

“No.” She shrugged. “Not really.” At least not to him.

He glanced back at his younger brother. “Don't you have something else to do?”

“Yeah.” Sean nodded. “Security. Computers.” When he didn't leave immediately, Braeden cocked an eyebrow, silently questioning why Sean wasn't moving.

She had no wish to see the brothers get into it, so she said, “Go, Sean. I'll be fine.” The tension in the air eased slightly. Sean glanced at her one more time before leaving the garage.

Looking for a way to buy time, Alexia touched Braeden's forearm. “Please, I've been up all night. Can I get some rest and then we'll talk?”

His gaze fell on her hand. “Nice try. We'll talk now.”

This time when he headed toward the elevators, Alexia followed. What else was she going to do? It wasn't as if he was about to leave her alone. The doors hadn't completely slid closed when she found her voice. “We're done talking.”

Braeden shook his head at her statement. She didn't really think it was going to be that easy. He leaned against the far wall. “We haven't even started.”

Alexia backed into the opposite corner and crossed her arms. Any other man would take that as a silent signal to keep his distance. But he wasn't any other man, and she had little hope that he'd take the hint.

“Tell me what's going on,” he said.

“There's nothing going on.” When he glared at her, she added, “I'm fine.” She'd reached the point of exhaustion. Between her rising temper and the sick fear twisting in her gut, she was ready to scream.

“Fine?” Braeden narrowed his eyes. “Terrified is not fine.”

She hated that he could still read her moods. It only infuriated her more. “Just stop it. I said I'm fine, so let it go.” Alexia nearly hissed.

He held up the Beretta. The magazine was still in the trunk, but he retracted the slide to make sure the chamber was empty before handing it to her. “Here.”

His actions backed up his attitude. He really didn't trust her. She dropped the gun into the pocket of her jacket.

“Why are you carrying a weapon in the first place?”

“None of your business.”

Braeden curtly reminded her, “You came to me for help. Or was that just another lie?”

She raised her head, bringing her gaze to meet his. He wouldn't believe her, but it was the truth. “I've never lied to you.”

“I'm amazed you can say that with a straight face.” He edged closer, then leaned his shoulder against the back wall of the elevator. “Why did you bring a gun along? Who did you plan to shoot?”

Shocked that he could ask such a question, she let her jaw fall open for a brief moment before she sputtered, “I didn't plan on shooting anyone. My God, Braeden, I don't hate you or your family that much.”

“So why do you have it?”

“It isn't important.” More to the point, it wasn't any of his business.

“Alexia, you came here for protection. How am I supposed to protect you if I don't know what's happening?” His cold eyes glimmered as he asked, “How do I even know you actually need protection if I don't know what's going on?”

She'd had enough of his questions and insinuations. Her sigh hissed in the confined space before she asked, “Why do you bother asking me questions when you can get the answers yourself?”

“You
want
me to get to the bottom of this myself?”

“It wouldn't be the first time.”

Her sarcasm only served to fire his anger. Jaw clenched, Braeden leaned away from the wall, hit the stop button on the elevator, then closed the narrow distance between them.

She felt the warmth of his body. He was too close. He loomed over her like a dark, threatening beast. She pressed her spine hard into the corner.

But he wasn't backing off. He only leaned closer. She was unable to draw a breath. Whether she meant to or not, she'd goaded him with an invitation he obviously wasn't about to ignore.

“If you're so damn eager to feel my presence, look at me.”

Resisting the urge to push him away, Alexia lifted her gaze to his. And her breath came at last, long and shaky. It had been years since she'd let anyone this close to her—physically or mentally.

She gasped as his will immediately penetrated her protective wall, forcing it to crumble. Alexia shivered at the ease with which he skimmed beyond her shock at seeing his Phantom, then past the conversations in the garage and his office.

He drifted over the frustration she'd felt during the trip to the Lair. Visions of the rockslide, rain and fog sprang to life. As did her fear of being followed. The wax on her Thunderbird gave justification to that fear.

Braeden coaxed her mind further back and Alexia saw the envelope on her desk, the attack in the parking lot and her shooting the one man.

She relived seeing the limo and Phantom pull away from her town house right before the place exploded. The intensity of her fear escalated.

But the sudden trembling of her legs wasn't from fear of those who were after her. Her roiling emotions whipped back and forth between her memories and the realization of how her earlier fears of him were mere imitations. Now, with every beat of her heart, true fear slammed at her.

He could kill or harm her with nothing more than a thought. She'd always known that. But until today, she'd feared the harm he could cause her emotionally far more than the threat of any physical danger.

“Stop it.”

The deep commanding timbre of his voice flowed into her veins like molten lava, heating her blood, bringing memories of a kiss, a touch, entwined limbs, flooding to the forefront of her mind. The memories converged with her fears—then mastered them. Their attraction had always been strong, but now it was deadly.

Long-forgotten senses and feelings came alive too suddenly to control them. Her knees nearly buckled as a path of fire snaked the length of her body, then returned to throb low in her belly.

His eyes widened, then narrowed as her mind tripped unbidden over memories best left undisturbed. But when he leaned closer and his unsteady, warm breath feathered across her cheek, she realized that he, too, was captured by the current of what bound them together. And she knew the power she held over his intrusion into her thoughts.

Alexia moaned softly and purposely remembered a time they'd been too angry at each other to sleep or even talk. Instead, they'd taken their frustration to bed.

That particular sexual encounter had been anything but gentle or loving. But it had been downright breathtaking and one of the most erotic nights they'd shared. His hands had held her steady. Her fingers had dug into his arms yanking him closer…closer.

It wasn't hard for her to awaken not only the visual memories, but also the sensations and emotions she'd experienced. Her body had burned with lust. Every muscle, every tendon strung as tight as a bowstring, straining for fulfillment.

Braeden had set any semblance of civilized man aside and become the beast he was named for. Her dragon came to life and scared the hell out of her. For the first time she'd felt pure fear slink cold and deadly through her body.

She wanted to run away, but the glitter in his eyes mesmerized her and promised her untold passion. Held enthralled by a promise she couldn't fathom, she remained…terrified and intrigued.