Page 5 of Dragon Enchanted (Secret Kingdoms: The Draquonir #1)
CHAPTER 4
T en minutes later, back ramrod stiff, Raven sat in a high-backed chair across from a man who introduced himself as Erik. No last name. Something about him seemed familiar, but she knew if she’d seen his flowing white-blond hair and ice blue eyes, she would have remembered him. He was too classically gorgeous to overlook, the power that clung to his frame impossible to ignore. As were the bodyguards she’d seen stationed all around the property.
Just like Talon, the arrogant and not talkative kidnapper who’d driven her here. There was something about all these men that set her nerves on edge.
What the hell did they want with a nobody like her?
Her fingers curling into the rich fabric of her sleeves as she resisted the urge to fold her arms protectively across her body. The room was massive—more of a hall than an office—constructed of cold, ancient stone and warmed only by the massive hearth that flickered behind Erik’s desk. It reminded her of a medieval throne room, only more refined, more calculated. Like its owner.
A large crest hung on the wall above the fireplace. Dragons. More dragons.
Erik leaned back in his chair, his ice-blue eyes assessing her in that quiet, calculating way that made her skin prickle with unease. He sat behind an ornate desk, perfectly calm, perfectly unreadable. The kind of man who did not make threats because he never needed to.
He’s deciding something.
The man exuded an air of quiet power, the kind that made people hesitate before speaking, before breathing. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his movements deliberate—controlled with an efficiency that spoke of discipline rather than arrogance. His hair, nearly silver in some light, framed a face that was both striking and unnervingly cold, as if sculpted from ice itself. Eyes the color of a frozen lake—pale blue and sharp as glass—assessed her with cool detachment, unreadable yet heavy with calculation.
He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, but it was the small details that unsettled her—the subtle embroidery along the cuffs, like the threading of an old insignia, the way the fabric moved like it was more than expensive; fit like it had been crafted for him alone. There was a quality about him, something refined yet dangerous, perhaps the way he moved—like a man who never needed to second-guess his place in the world—that sent a shiver of unease through her. He was the kind of man who made decisions quickly, without hesitation. And she had the distinct feeling that right now, he was making a decision about her.
He wasn’t her man, the one she’d found and dragged to her car, the one she couldn’t stop thinking about. No. He was one of the others . The group who had walked into the hospital right that night. The one powerful enough he’d made every nurse, doctor, police officer forget everything about the bleeding man she’d been so desperate to save.
“Miss MacInnes.”
His voice was smooth. Deceptively polite.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “What do you want?”
Erik smiled faintly. “I need your help. I have a very delicate…situation, and I believe you may be the only one who can help me resolve it.”
She exhaled sharply, straightening her shoulders. “If you think I’m going to be intimidated, you don’t know me very well.”
That appeared to amuse him. His smile would have knocked her socks off, if she didn’t already know he couldn’t be trusted.
“I think you misunderstand,” Erik replied smoothly. “You’re here. The man whose life you saved—and thank you for that, by the way. He is very important to our people.”
What? This was not what she expected. “Who is he?”
“His name is Vector. And without you, we would have lost him.”
“So, the thanks I got was you drugging me and erasing my memories? Making me think I was crazy?” Was she scolding him? Yes. Yes, she was. Because that was rude and unnecessary.
“The situation is complicated.”
“So, you admit it? That you doctored my video? Paid off all those people at the hospital? Paid off the police? Erased all the records?”
Erik shrugged. “I do what I must to protect my people.”
Oh boy. Totally something a mafia boss would say.
He leaned forward; his ice blue eyes boring into hers. “Yet you did not forget. Why is that?”
She had no idea and nothing she could say to him. What was she supposed to do? Admit that Vector’s emerald green eyes seemed to be seared into her brain? That every waking—and sleeping—moment, she was obsessed with finding him? “I don’t know. Is that why I’m here? I didn’t forget, so now you’re going to make me disappear?”
“We do not harm females.”
Weird turn of phrase but oddly comforting. “So, what do you want from me? I don’t know you people. I don’t belong here.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“What?”
Erik ignored her question to continue, “I assure you, you are not in any danger, Miss MacInnes.” Erik’s voice was smooth, diplomatic. “I simply need your help. I had hoped we could come to an understanding.”
Raven forced herself to hold his ice cold gaze without flinching. “What kind of understanding?”
“Vector is here, healing from his wounds. But he is not responding well, and I do not have the manpower to keep him occupied. My men are warriors, not healers. I need you to keep him company. Lift his spirits. Nurse him back to health.”
“I’m not a nurse.”
“I am aware of your profession. And your past.”
Ahhh. There it was. The truth. He’d researched her background, found out about her former fiancé’s links to organized crime. So what? Billy was dead. He’d made his choices and paid the price. Now Erik was trying to blackmail her? She hadn’t committed any crimes. He had nothing on her, nothing he could use to force her to cooperate. But…she wanted to see Vector. Make sure he was all right. The idea of him suffering, not healing, made her insides twist into hundreds of angry knots. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Just promise to keep your mouth shut and leave.
That would be the smart thing to do.
Erik pounced as if sensing her indecision. “I will pay you very well for your time. Once Vector is recovering properly, you will be free to go. I give you my word.”
Might be idiotic, but she believed him. Raven had the feeling that around here, his word was law. “How much?”
The number he quoted her made her heart struggle to beat. She could buy ten dream homes and have money to burn.
“Is this a joke?” They kidnapped her and flew her to their castle to make chicken noodle soup and read bedtime stories? And were offering to pay her an exorbitant amount to do it? She was so not buying it.
“Absolutely not. Vector does not want to live, Miss MacInnes. In fact, had you not intervened, he would be lost to us already.”
That she could believe. He was a mess when she found him. “I’m nobody. Why me?"
Erik’s voice was quiet, but firm. "Because Vector didn’t kill you."
The words settled deep in her bones, heavier than they should have been. Because he could have. That night, he had been broken, near death—yet he had still been strong, more than strong enough to hurt her, take her life, strike out like a cornered, mortally wounded animal. Yet, he hadn’t hurt her. He’d tried to warn her away. He’d been dying and still he’d tried to protect her. From himself. Perhaps from a moment like this?
Damn it. She couldn’t abandon him, not if what Erik told her was true.
“All right. Where is he?”