Page 1 of Not a Pawn (Tales of the Dreggageggon #2)

An Unwelcome Guest

Sebastian

“I should rip your head off and shit down your throat,” I threaten, rage swimming through my veins at the audacity of this man.

The mumbling, crying man I have in my grasp has long since stopped trying to get away from me. He knows that before the end of this night, things will go very badly for him.

“Please,” he begs on another sob, trying to catch his breath.

“Why would I show you any mercy?” I ask. Tilting my head to the side, I study him. “You broke into our home and tried to kill us in our sleep.”

“I was under orders. I didn’t have a choice,” he stammers while trying to breathe past my grip. “They took my daughter.” The words are barely above a whisper.

Allowing his feet to touch the ground, I release him and allow him to catch his breath. I watch as he wheezes, the redness slowly drawing from his face as his pallor returns to normal.

“Tell me everything you know, and I might spare your life.”

The demand is as clear in my tone as the promise of violence and death is. The man watches me closely, assessing the situation before bowing his head. He doesn’t need to know that both my brother and I abhor any kind of violence against women and children. Something is driving me to help him and even though it doesn’t make a lick of sense, I rarely go against my gut.

“I have a gambling problem,” he says, his shoulders hunched forward in either defeat or shame. “When I couldn’t pay my debt to the Pezzo Family, they took my daughter as payment. I threw myself upon Marco Pezzo’s mercy, not that he has any, and begged him to kill me instead. He said if I did this one thing for him, he would let my Harlow go.”

I fucking hate Marco Pezzo, as does my brother. He is the lowest form of a human. Taking what he wants without fear of consequences or repercussions. He hurts and kills without forethought and doesn’t give a damn about the effect his harsh decisions take on the lives of others. I have wanted to wipe him from existence since I first met him, and this may finally give me the excuse I need.

“He sent you to your death,” I surmise.

“I knew that when I accepted his proposal,” he agrees. “But I had to try something. I couldn’t just let him hurt her. She is all I have left.”

My brother growls beside me, the first sound he has made since we caught our uninvited guest breaking into our home.

“We need to put an end to this bullshit with the Pezzo scum,” he says through our mind link. “I am so fucking tired of them pulling shit like this and God knows what else.”

“I know,” I reply simply before turning back to the man.

My brother and I are unique in the fact that we can communicate telepathically. It is also something we don’t advertise. It used to be a talent only fated mates were able to master but seeing that there haven’t been any in many years, it isn’t something that is talked about anymore.

Everyone assumed the talent died out with the last fated couple, but they would be wrong. It seems, as identical twins—which is almost as rare as fated mates—we have this hidden talent.

Until recently, when not only the first mated couple in hundreds of years surfaced, but also the first female dragon shifter. Now every dragon alive is on high alert for their mate.

“If we help you retrieve your daughter, what do we get?” I ask.

“You’ve gone from wanting to kill me to offering to help me. Why?” the man asks confused. He seems suspicious and I can’t blame him, I wouldn’t trust the sudden shift either.

“We don’t take kindly to men who involve women in their games,” my brother cuts in. “But know that if you are lying, you will die with the Pezzos. That’s a promise.”

“I’m not lying,” the man says quickly. “I swear on all I have, everything I’ve told you is true. I will give anything, everything, to protect Harlow.”

“Then tell us all you know, and we will help you.”

Words fall from the man’s lips like water from a faucet. He tells us everything he knows of the Pezzos, their operations, their facilities, and how many men they have. It only takes an hour for us to know everything we need to formulate a plan.

****

Will He Return?

Harlow

I glare at the man before me. Why would a man so dark and evil be so handsome? Marco Pezzo is probably the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on, and it only pisses me off. Olive-toned skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. He has a square jaw and a smile that male models all over the world are surely jealous of.

“Shouldn’t I be locked up in the basement somewhere?” I ask, disdain dripping from every word that falls from my lips.

“Why would I leave you in that dark, dank place? I much rather prefer to look at your beautiful face.”

Charm oozes from every pore and I must resist the urge to slap him or fall for his bullshit. I fucking hate the Elite. What makes it worse is that he is an Alpha. For some reason they all think they are owed something even though they have never done an honest day’s work in their damn lives.

“Where is my father?” I ask instead, ignoring his flattery.

I know who and what my father is. I have always known he was involved with some unsavory characters and that he has a gambling problem. He is in debt to Marco, but we are both working our asses off to get the money together. All we need is a little more time. Clearly, Marco has run out of patience.

“He is running an errand. Once he completes his task, you’ll both be debt-free and allowed to leave.”

The calculating look in his obsidian gaze says more than his words ever could. Wherever he sent my father, whatever he wanted him to do, was a death sentence. A shiver runs down my spine.

“You don’t think he’ll be back.”

It’s a statement, not a question. I know Elites like him. Dragons who use people and cast them aside. It doesn’t matter to him that my father is all I have left in this world. His death would be inconsequential to a monster like Marco Pezzo. I on the other hand would have my heart and soul ripped apart if I lost him.

“You’re not only beautiful but smart as well,” he says with another smirk. “I don’t anticipate his return, my dear.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat, sadness already ripping at my insides. “And what will happen to me?” I ask softly.

“You will be as you are now. My property.”

“I will never belong to you. Every day I will fight to be free,” I say, standing from my seat. “I will make your life a living hell.”

“Are you threatening me?”

A dark look crosses his face as he also stands.

“No, Marco. I’m promising you,” I hiss, not considering the consequences of my words. It has always been a weak point for me—I speak before I think. “You’ll have to kill me before you ever get me to submit. I will fight you every day until my last breath.”

The slap surprises me, throwing me off balance. It takes me a moment to re-center myself. I’m on my knees beside his desk when his fancy, shiny shoes come into view.

“Know this, little girl,” he says above me. “I will break you, tear the skin from your bones, and the soul from your body. But you will live, and you will submit.”

I spit on his shoe, blood mixed with saliva, before glaring up at him.

“We’ll see.”