Manhattan Dragon Page 10

  As soon as the drink was in his hands, he took a fortifying swig. “Now, can you tell me who the hell you are and where you got the tech to pull that off tonight?”

  Rowan looked him in the eye, her face deadly serious. “What we stumbled on tonight was not a fetish group. It was human trafficking. You were right about that. Just not for the reasons you think.”

  “No?”

  “NAVAK stands for New Amsterdam Vampire Kingdom. What you saw tonight were vampires bidding on humans supplied to them by Verinetti for a price. NAVAK struck a deal with the local shifter pack to live in Manhattan. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the implications as a human, but I can tell you that has never happened before. Vampires and shifters are natural enemies. Verinetti sold out.”

  He waited for some indication that she was lying, but none came. In fact, all his instincts told him she was telling the truth. Nick laughed. It had to be a joke. “Vampires. Right.”

  “Vampires, yes. Verinetti and his pack are providing them humans to use for feeding. The tattoos on the human’s wrists mean they are part of the vampires’ herd. Most of the time, these humans will be kept alive to service the vampires. Vampires in general tend to take care of their humans for the same reasons humans might take good care of their dairy cows. But if one gets out of line, perhaps doesn’t want to be used as a blood bag anymore, they won’t hesitate to kill them. I’m guessing that’s what you were investigating, isn’t it? You found that girl you showed to Connor dead with that logo on her wrist.”

  Nick’s knees refused to hold him up any longer, and he sat down on the sofa across from her. His head was spinning. He hadn’t told Rowan anything about the crime scene. Aside from the symbol, he hadn’t shared any details with her. But now everything she was saying lined up with the facts of the case, and it was just too fucking weird for his brain to process. A chill skittered along his spine.

  He took another long drink of bourbon and concentrated on her body language. There was still no indication she was untruthful. For the first time, she seemed open, like all her cards were on the table.

  “A-are you saying you believe these are actual vampires, like the mythological creatures that drink people’s blood?” He laughed nervously, although there was nothing funny about it.

  “I know for sure those were real vampires, and I also know they’ve seen our faces. There were cameras everywhere in that place. And when you released my hand, you lost the protection of my invisibility.”

  “How… how’d you do that?”

  Rowan disappeared.

  Nick let out a stream of curses that would make a hardened criminal blush. He blinked his eyes and she was there again. He tossed back the remainder of his drink.

  “I know those were real vampires, Nick, because I am a dragon. I can make myself and anything I touch invisible because dragons can become invisible. I can fly, not because of technology, but because I have wings.”

  Now his head was really spinning. He had to be drunk. Did she just say she had wings? He licked his lips. “You seem like a really nice person, Rowan, but you need professional help.”

  She stood and crossed to stand directly in front of him, hands on her hips. The look on her face wasn’t exactly angry, but she wasn’t smiling either. If he had to name her expression, he’d say she was both frustrated and resolved. And she wasn’t lying. Nothing scared him more than knowing that as far as all his skills and training were concerned, she was telling the truth. He set his empty glass on the coffee table and stood so that they were face-to-face.

  “I like you, Nick. Please don’t disappoint me.”

  With a sound like a flag unfurling, two red, scaled wings spread from her back and arched across the room.

  For a second Nick’s mind flashed on how really beautiful the wings were, like bat wings but with rose-colored scales that glinted in the firelight. He wanted to touch them, wondered what they’d feel like. But he couldn’t. His skin turned clammy, and a tremble took hold of his body. The room tilted and the floor rose up to meet his head. It was easier to fall asleep since he was already lying down.

  Everything slipped into shadow, and he gave himself over to total darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Nick? Nick?” Rowan shook his shoulder. When he didn’t wake, she scooped him off the floor and carried him to her bedroom, where she positioned him with a pillow under his head. She was relieved when her phone rang. Harriet had arrived and Brian was letting her up. Rowan had texted her to come while Nick was in the bathroom, in the event that his injuries were worse than she’d thought. Now she was glad for the prognostication.

  A few minutes later she heard her friend let herself in with her key. “Back here!” she called.

  Harriet appeared in the doorway, dressed to the teeth, as always, this time in a lavender suit with a patterned Hermès scarf tied around her throat. Her hair cascaded in straight silver strands to her shoulders. A large black leather bag hung from one elbow.

  “For the love of all that is holy, what did you do to him?” Harriet said through tight lips.

  “Nothing!” Rowan said defensively. “Why would you assume I did this?”

  “Well, what caused it then? Did he remember about the Raindrop of Heaven and pass out from the shock?”

  “No… No.” Rowan frowned. “Well, actually… he didn’t remember, but shock may have been involved. And some blood loss.”

  “Blood loss?”

  “From a vampire bite.” Rowan’s shoulders slumped as she delivered the news.

  Harriet’s expression turned horrified. “A vampire? In Manhattan?”

  Rowan gave her a quick rundown of everything they’d seen.

  “So he’s been like this since the bite?”

  Shifting uncomfortably, Rowan said, “No, he was fine until I showed him my wings.”

  “You what?” Harriet’s eyebrows inched toward the ceiling.

  “He needed to know. I had to prove to him that what he saw tonight was real. They could come for him, Harriet. He has to be ready.”

  “And you couldn’t wait until, I don’t know, his body recuperated from the trauma of the evening?”

  She scowled. “Sure, that makes sense now. In fairness, I didn’t think he was badly hurt. He seemed fine when we arrived here.”

  “This is very irresponsible, Rowan. He’s an NYPD detective. Even if he hasn’t remembered about the Raindrop of Heaven, you’ve shown him your identity and Zelda’s Folly, not to mention brought him to your true home. Do you realize the risk? You could lose everything you hold most dear. The forget-me potion is still brewing. I can’t even make him forget.”

  Rowan closed her eyes and released a deep breath. “I don’t want him to forget. I want you to heal him. Can you fix him?”

  Harriet’s steely gaze perused her, her lips twitching at the corners. “Ah, I see now.” She flashed a small, knowing smile. Nodding slowly, she said, “I think I can help you. I brought with me my strongest healing elixir. It’s not a blood transfusion, mind you. It will only help his human body heal itself, nothing more. But he’s strong and his heart is still beating. That’s something. There is always risk with humans though, you understand. Fragile creatures.”

  “I understand. I’ll take him to the human hospital if he gets worse.”

  Harriet reached into her handbag and pulled out a small vial. “Hold his head.”

  Together, they held Nick’s mouth open and poured the elixir down his throat. He made a face, coughed, and rolled onto his side. Harriet dropped the empty vial into her bag.

  “Is that a Birkin bag?”

  Harriet straightened. “Yes. Why?”

  “That’s an $8,000 bag.” Rowan held the piece of art hanging at Harriet’s elbow between her hands, admiring the leather.

  “You pay me very well.”

  “How much do I pay you?”

  “Ask your accountant.”

  “You are my accountant!”

  “You pay me very well.
”

  Rowan raised an eyebrow. Even she didn’t own a Birkin bag. Not that she couldn’t afford one.

  Harriet adjusted the bag on her elbow. “Now, we must talk before the detective wakes.”

  “I told you, Harriet, I wanted him to know. I was ready to tell him. I will deal with the fallout.”

  She nodded. “I heard you. And I think now is a good time for me to tell you I have read your cards.”

  Rowan raised a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to know. I told you not to snoop into my future.”

  When Harriet read tarot cards, her readings provided vague guidance that could be interpreted in various ways. Rowan always thought the readings were like a mirror, reflecting back what you wanted to see. Harriet could see the present. If she held an object, she could tell you exactly where the owner of that object was or other things about the current state of the object or the owner. But seeing into the future was an entirely different and nebulous discipline. While Harriet sometimes experienced premonitions about things that came to pass, a person couldn’t count on her visions to be exactly true. More like in the realm of truth. Sort of like buying a ticket to Paris, France, and ending up in Paris, Illinois.

  “So you don’t want to know about a potential future between you and the human?”

  “No. Let it unravel naturally.”

  “You admit, then, that there is something to unravel? You see or perhaps desire a future with this man.” She touched her tongue to her top lip.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Yes, okay, I have feelings for him. Actually, so does my dragon. Sometimes when I see him, I feel her move inside me as if I’m about to shift. I’ve never had that before.”

  Harriet’s grin grew even broader and she squealed softly. “Dragon knows best.”

  Rowan rolled her eyes. “My inner dragon is impulsive and wild. All heart and very little head.”

  “All heart is the only way to live, darling.”

  Inhaling deeply, Rowan watched Nick sleep. “He smells so good.”

  Harriet raised one eyebrow. “He smells like blood and the valerian root in my elixir.”

  “No he doesn’t. He smells like sandalwood and spices. Christmas spices. Cloves and nutmeg.” She breathed in again.

  The older woman laughed. “That’s all you, darling. You have it bad.”

  Rowan rolled her eyes, then gave in to Harriet’s evil scheme. “Okay,” she said through her teeth as if her friend had twisted her arm. “What did the cards say?”

  Harriet’s face lit up. “You’re going to be very happy together…”

  Rowan did a little dance.

  “…after a period of trial where one of you may die.”

  “Harriet!”

  “You know how this works, darling. Death could mean psychological or emotional change. The death card doesn’t mean physical death. Well, sometimes it does, but rarely.”

  “By the Mountain!” Rowan held her head.

  Harriet clasped her hands. “I saw many years of happiness—that’s the important thing—in at least one possible outcome.”

  All Rowan could do was close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. It was her own fault for asking. Only temporary insanity could explain why she’d gone against her own rules and asked what Harriet had seen in the cards. Dumb. Stupid. She tried to scrub her brain of the information.

  “Did the cards tell you how we could avoid this near-death experience?”

  “Oh no, it’s coming.” Harriet tapped her bottom lip. “Also, that reminds me… It’s probably nothing to worry about, but a magical entity has been testing the boundaries of the dispărea charm I have on your person. Someone is looking for you.”

  “Seriously? When did this start?”

  “The past few days.”

  “Oh, Harriet, why would someone be trying to find me?”

  The old woman shrugged. “I assumed it had something to do with the reason your brothers were looking for you. What did Tobias say?”

  “I couldn’t reach him. He’s left his job and moved out of his home.”

  “Almost like he’s running from something.” Her rheumy blue eyes widened. “Perhaps that something is looking for you too.”

  “Perhaps that something is what you saw in the cards that will threaten our lives.”

  She spread her hands. “But if you live, you will be very, very happy.”

  “I love you, Harriet, but you’re a freak if you think that makes me feel better. Also a freak if you aren’t concerned. As my bonded servant, if I die, you die.”

  “I do not think you will die. I think you will be—”

  “Very, very happy. Yes, I heard you.”

  Harriet’s lips thinned and she clasped her hands in front of her stomach. “Well, I find it comforting to be wrapped in the arms of fate and given a glimpse into the beyond. We are all adventurers on this journey called life. The wind is in your sails, Rowan. Can’t you feel it? Don’t you think it’s time to look to the stars to guide you? Even if you can’t change your course, they shine quite lovingly.”

  Nick groaned and rolled over, grabbing his head.

  “He’s waking up.” Rowan hurried to his side.

  Harriet worked her fingers under the bandage on his neck and peeled it from his skin. “Voilà! All healed up. My work here is done. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gallery. I’m going to be late coming in.”

  “Why?”

  “Traveller council meeting. I hope you won’t need Djorji. He’s expected around the fire at Ember Fields as well.”

  “I’ll make do. Say hello to the others for me.”

  Harriet bowed her head before retreating from the room.

  Nick’s eyes fluttered as he lay beside her in bed, and he let out a groan.

  She rushed to his side. “Nick? Are you okay?”

  His eyes opened fully and he blinked twice. “What am I doing here?”

  “You passed out. You lost a lot of blood at Wicked Divine tonight.”

  In a burst of movement, Nick thrust himself up and away from her, until his back was against the headboard. He licked his lips. “You had wings!”

  She nodded. “Because I’m a dragon.”

  He blinked at her, staring over her shoulders. Well, okay. If he needed to see them again, she would oblige. She stood beside the bed and again spread her wings.

  Rowan might as well have been entirely naked for how vulnerable and exposed she felt showing Nick who she was. She didn’t have any more of Harriet’s forget-me potion to wipe this from his mind. She was baring her soul to him, trusting that he could accept who she was. And if he rejected her, it would be the worst kind of rejection. No misunderstandings or misconceptions. Nick would have seen what she was and called it garbage. Harriet was right. It was too risky. She was mad to tell him, but she was also helpless to resist her need to.

  He stared at her unblinking, his face frozen in some stony expression she couldn’t read. The only thing moving was a vein in his neck that throbbed like it had a life of its own.

  “Nick?”

  His eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings. Then, slowly, he hung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, straight backed and chin high. He reached for her right wing.

  At once she flinched away. “Hey! Ask me before you get all grabby hands.” Her cheeks burned. Wings to a dragon were intimate appendages. He might as well be reaching for her breast.

  “Oh.” His gaze shifted toward the wall.

  She took a deep breath. When he didn’t look at her again, she asked softly, “Do they disgust you?”

  His gaze flicked up to her again, his brow furrowed. “No, Rowan. I think they’re breathtaking. Astonishing. Unbelievable. This is all…” He rubbed his head.

  “Oh.” She searched his face. He wasn’t afraid or angry. Just overwhelmed. Perhaps there was a chance that the night wouldn’t end in total disaster. “You can touch them now if you want. Gently.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nick’s head buzzed like he was in a
dream. Maybe he was. He had been sleeping, after all. He moved closer, that smoky citrus scent of hers everywhere in this room. Her room. He was definitely dreaming.

  He swallowed hard.

  “My wings are intimate to me. I don’t usually let others see them or touch them.” She licked her lips. “I’m letting you see them because… I like you.”

  His gaze met hers, and the vulnerability in her eyes melted his heart. “I like you too.” He reached for her and slowly stroked his thumb along her jaw, trailing his nail gently beneath her lip before cupping her cheek. “Your wings look like they’re made of rose petals,” he said. “They’re beautiful.”

  A blush warmed her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  Sweet. Alluring. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

  She nodded, never looking away from him. He moved his hand from her face and toward the outer bone of her right wing. The tips of his fingers inspected the edge, the texture of scales bumping in smooth regularity beneath his touch.

  She giggled, and the sound sent a pleasant shiver along his skin. “It tickles.”

  “You can feel that?”

  “Of course I can feel it. It’s my wing.”

  “Were they… surgically implanted? I didn’t think it was possible, but…”

  She snatched his wrist, holding his hand between them, and stared him in the eye. “You’re not listening. This isn’t technology, Nick. It isn’t surgery. It’s me. My wings are part of me. Of who I am. I’m a dragon from a realm known as Paragon. That’s in a different dimension. A different world.”

  He narrowed his eyes on her, trying to wrap his mind around it.

  She groaned. “You said you were a human lie detector. You tell me—am I lying?”

  Nick shook his head. “No.”

  She released his hand. After an awkward moment, he couldn’t resist stroking her wing again. She arched and stretched the wing beneath his touch as if it tickled again, and he increased the pressure to long, even strokes that seemed more soothing to her. Damn. He used to think he was a leg man. Who would have thought wings would be his ultimate turn-on?