Page 9

Chapter Nine

A ntony returned to his gadget room and watched as Iris inspected the various weapons and protective gear. She kept reaching for something, her eyes wide with wonder, before retreating again.

Some women wanted candy and flowers. But it seemed Iris Mahajan preferred night scopes, tranquilizer guns, and signal jammers.

Not that it was a negative. He was the same. Although he wondered how she’d react to flowers and him cooking for her.

She must’ve noticed his return because she swirled around, holding a prototype stun gun that could shoot a beam of electricity, like right out of a sci-fi show, and asked, “Are you always so creepy?”

“If you mean do I always sneak up on people and hide in the shadows, then the answer is mostly yes.” She opened her mouth to ask questions he didn’t really want to answer, so he strode toward her and said, “You’ll need these, when in your human form. They’re special contacts that will hide your flashing dragon eyes. Not even an eye scanner can detect you wearing them.”

“Let me guess—you have a secret army of dragon-shifters living in London, Manchester, and loads of other big cities, ready in case of attack.”

His lips twitched as he handed her the contact case. “Something like that.”

“You’re always annoyingly vague, aye?”

“Well, do you spill secrets every chance you get?”

“You don’t have to spill secrets to give a little bit of detail. Because if we’re in a life-or-death situation and you’re still vague, it could kill us both. And I’d prefer not to die for stupid reasons, aye?”

“I would never willingly put you in danger. Ever.”

The fierceness of his tone made her blink. “Okay.”

Her gaze searched his, and Antony wondered how much she could see of the real him. Part of him wanted to drop the act and merely tease her, woo her, challenge her for fun in a sparring match, only for him to pin her down and maybe kiss her.

He nearly frowned. Why was he so bloody drawn to this dragonwoman? Especially since she always seemed so skeptical of him.

Not wanting to think of the why, he took out a small device and held it up. “Before we leave, I need to chip you. And before you get upset, we all have them. They can even survive a dragon shifting.”

She eyed the small gun-like device. “Wouldn’t your enemy be able to find the chips and disable them?”

“Ah, but you see, our technology is better and decades more advanced than anything the public has access to. Almost nothing can deactivate it, and it’s nearly as hard to tell it’s even there.” He gestured around the room. “Most of this could start a war, if other countries knew about it. Only those I trust have access.”

She searched his gaze. “And why do you trust me so much? All we ever do is fight or argue.”

“You helped save my brother more than once, when he got distracted on a dig. Max trusts you, which means I do, too.”

His younger brother loved archaeology and history above all else. And while he’d worked with Antony for a short while on some secret assignments, Max became too easily distracted. So, after being sworn to secrecy, Antony had released his brother from his team.

However, Max used his training under Antony all the time, and had given his report of Iris long before Antony had ever revealed himself to her.

She cleared her throat. “Aye, well, there’s still so much I don’t know about you, so I can’t say I trust you as much.”

He should make light of her comment, tease her, and distract her with everything in the room.

And yet, his years of training faded as he blurted, “I like to paint.”

Fuck, why had he shared that?

Iris’s brows drew together. “What kind of painting? Because if you say nudes and ask me to pose, I’m going to roll my eyes and walk away.”

“No, no nudes. Just forget I said anything.”

She walked closer and placed a hand on his arm. Heat flared at her touch, sending electricity throughout his body.

But Iris looked unaffected and merely asked, “What kind of paintings?”

He cleared his throat. “You’ll laugh.”

“I promise not to.”

While vows were more iron-clad for dragon-shifters, Antony decided to risk it. “Pets.”

She blinked. “Pets?”

“I can’t have one with my line of work. So I paint them instead and leave the canvases around London for people to find.”

He waited for her to laugh. Because, really, it was ridiculous. Antony was privy to the most classified information in the country, commanded a team with few limits, and could kill a man before he even knew of his presence.

And yet, he enjoyed painting cats and dogs and birds in silly situations and watching as people found them. Usually, they smiled or laughed. The ones who destroyed them often had bad luck later on.

Completely by coincidence, of course.

Iris still had her hand on his arm and squeezed. “That’s kind of sweet, aye? I can’t have pets, either, because of my job. But I do have…”

She looked away, and Antony raised a hand to gently force her gaze back. “Have what? If I can tell you about painting puppies, you can tell me anything.”

After biting her bottom lip for a few seconds—which Antony struggled not to stare at—she answered, “I had a cat as a wee lass, and later, once she passed, I got a stuffed animal that looks like her. I still have it.”

“If you have a picture of your cat, I can paint something for you.”

She frowned. “You’re not going to tease me about it? Only one person ever found out about my stuffed animal, and he never let me live it down.”

“Tell me his name and he’ll never bother you again.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or joking.”

“Oh, I’m serious. No one should make you embarrassed for loving someone, be it a pet or person.”

Antony had gone through that with his late fiancée. His colleagues had teased him about being smitten, and being young and stupid, he’d taken risks. Unnecessary risks that had ended up getting Lisa killed.

Iris’s voice snapped him back to the present. “What were you just thinking about? Because pain briefly flashed in your eyes.”

Bloody hell. Did he forget all of his training around this dragonwoman?

His phone chimed, and he quickly took it out to check. “Right, memory lane will have to wait. We need to leave in the next ten minutes or we won’t arrive at our destination whilst it’s still dark. Come on. There’s a changing room with some stuff for you next door.”

He turned and walked off to the side. Part of him wanted Iris to push and ask him uncomfortable questions about his past, and the other part wanted her to drop it.

And so when she remained quiet and eventually went into the changing room as instructed, he wondered why he felt a little bit sad.

Get it together. Emotions were nothing but trouble. Be it pride, love, or fear—any of those could get someone killed.

With that thought, Antony recited focusing exercises inside his mind, to get it together. By the time Iris emerged wearing protective gear that looked like any other pair of jeans and sweater, Antony merely nodded and motioned for her to follow. He needed to get to the Peak District before sunrise, and he’d be damned if he missed the window of arrival because of a woman.

As soon as they were on the road and Iris had been allowed to take off her blindfold—no doubt to hide the exact location of the facility—she studied Antony’s profile. Earlier, he’d seemed so…vulnerable. When embarrassment had flashed across his features while talking about his paintings, it’d made her pause and blurt out something personal, too.

Why had she told him about Fluffy the Cat?

And why, oh why, had she bothered to touch him? She could still feel the strong, lean muscles of his arm beneath her fingers.

Her dragon spoke up. You remember because you want him to touch us some more. Especially after learning he’s not the arsehole-y superhero of ice like you thought before.

I still can’t believe he paints pets. And then leaves them for people to find.

You have a stuffed animal cat. It’s not that hard to imagine.

But he’s so…snobby. And acts like he’s better than everyone.

You, more than anyone, know how important it is to keep up appearances and facades.

During her year with the British Army—which all future Protectors had to serve—Iris had tried to make friends with the humans. She’d even thought herself in love with one.

Until her world had come tumbling down.

Antony’s voice brought her back to the present. “If you take a picture with your phone, it’ll last longer.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about now?”

“You’re staring. And have been for at least ten minutes.”

“Maybe I’m trying to learn your tells, or any other kind of information, since you won’t share anything with me.”

He raised an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the road. “I will as soon as we arrive. I told you that.”

“Why, though? It’s dangerous to go into a situation blind.”

He glanced briefly at her, his expression unreadable. “I have sentries posted along our route, watching and monitoring us. If something happens to me, one of them will find you within minutes and whisk you away to safety.”

“I’m not a bloody damsel in distress. So stop treating me like one, aye?”

“You could be a seven-foot-tall man armed to the teeth, and I’d act exactly the same way.”

“I’ve heard that bullshit before.”

“Ah, during your time with the army?”

She blinked. “What do you know?”

He tapped the side of his nose. “More than you’d like me to, I reckon. And before you get mad or shout, just know I looked up the backgrounds of all the Protectors working with me, not just you. So there’s no need to be defensive with me, my dear. If you weren’t amazing at your job, you wouldn’t be here, end of story. I value both my work and those I protect far too much to hire less than the best. I don’t care if they have a dick or not. If anything, it’s usually a negative.”

Rather than focus on Antony praising her, she blurted, “Why?”

His lips twitched. “It takes a lot of time and training to deprogram the expected privilege most men have since it won’t help them in a life-or-death situation where the other side will kill whoever they meet.”

“If only they did that in the army, or at least those who work with the dragon-shifters. I can’t speak to the human-only units.”

“In the military, even the human side, you’re part of a group. Still, it’s hard to get rid of ego. Which is something I won’t tolerate in my most trusted team members.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe you lack an ego.”

“None of us do. But some individuals let it rule them, and it ends up getting people killed. In my experience, men, especially, don’t like to admit they’re wrong. I have to test them early. Because if they can’t learn from their mistakes, then they’re unworthy and a waste of my time.”

Interesting. Antony Holbrook seemed to understand the faults of males more than most. She asked, “So how do you test them? Or is that another secret of yours?”

He shrugged. “Not really. It depends on the individual. Most of the time, I ask about something they did poorly in the past and see how they react. Those who own up to their mistakes get more points than those who try to explain them away. The ones who outright deny it, well, they get a shot of a short-term memory loss drug and don’t remember a thing about me or that facility we left.”

Iris frowned. “So you would’ve used that memory loss drug on me if I’d refused to work with you?”

“Oh, I knew you would accept the offer, my dear. So it never crossed my mind.”

“To save or protect my clan, I’d do anything.”

“Exactly. But you also crave the challenge. You don’t strike me as someone who’d settle for being a mere Protector your whole life, without the chance to lead. And since Faye and Grant are quite young, they’ll probably be in charge for a while. This is your chance to impress me and maybe earn a permanent place on my team.”

Ignoring the thrill of being able to carry out missions regularly, Iris drawled, “Impress you, aye?”

“Aye, impress me,” he mimicked in her accent. One that sounded as if he’d been Scottish his whole life.

“So now you do accents. Just how many skills do you have?”

He snorted. “My mimicry comes from doing impressions as a child. At one point, I thought about becoming an actor or to even do comedy.”

“How the bloody hell did you go from wanting to be a comedian to being a James Bond on steroids?”

“I’m flattered you think I’m like James Bond. But, in actuality, he’s an idiot compared to what me and my team can do.”

“What was that about ego?” she drawled.

“It’s not ego when it’s the truth, my dear. How many times did Bond get distracted by a pretty woman? I mean, honestly, I would’ve kicked him off my team after the first time.”

“True. I stopped watching after one film because I started shouting at the screen and people got angry.”

He laughed. “I would love to see that. Maybe we should have a team-building exercise where we watch a James Bond film and point out the flaws.”

“Whilst that would be entertaining, I’d rather focus on finding out who created that gas, is spreading it around, and who murdered all those dragon-shifters. Even if they were traitors, they didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“Some of them did, though. A few were leaking information to Simon Bourne and his cronies.”

She sat up straighter. “What?”

Simon Bourne was the leader of the dragon hunters, who hated that dragon-shifters had any rights. His people only wanted dragons so they could drain them of blood and sell it on the black market. In their ideal world, they’d keep dragons in pens, drugged and treated as nothing more than a resource they wanted to control.

Antony replied, “It’s true. One of the worst offenders from the clanless dragon group was Grant’s father, Michael.”

“Wait, how? He was captured and transferred to the DDA’s care years ago.”

Michael McFarland had formerly betrayed Lochguard and truly believed dragons were superior to humans and should rule over them. The thought of him working with Simon Bourne, a human, didn’t make sense.

Antony replied, “This isn’t common knowledge, but he and a few others escaped from a DDA prison about a year ago.”

“What? How could you not tell us about that? Both Grant and Chase have bairns now, and given how their mates are dragon- shifters, I wouldn’t put it past Michael to kidnap and raise his grandchildren ‘the right way’ in his mind, meaning without humans.”

“I’m aware of his anti-human sentiments. But we couldn’t risk sharing this information with anyone but a select few. If news got out about dragon-shifters escaping from DDA prisons, what do you think would happen?”

While Iris wanted to strangle Antony for keeping this information secret—and for how much it might’ve hurt her clan—she took a deep breath and tried to think about it rationally. Part of her job relied on her being able to control her emotions to focus.

After a few seconds, she replied, “If the news got out, then both humans and dragons would’ve panicked. But you could’ve at least told Grant. He’s loyal, wouldn’t share the information with anyone but his mate, and could better protect his daughter and nephews.”

“Perhaps. However, I have things in hand. For now. I may have to talk to Grant soon, anyway, since his uncle Roderick was one of the bodies found in the mass grave.”

Iris remembered Roderick McFarland. He’d never been a nice person and had caused her clan some pain, but he still didn’t deserve to be murdered. No, he should’ve faced justice instead.

Eager to learn as much as possible before Antony closed himself off again, she asked, “Can you stop dropping information little by little and just tell me who from Lochguard was found in the grave? If I know who’s still alive, I might be able to shed some light about how they’ll act or react since we have files on all of them. In fact, I bet all the clans have files and could share. And since you’ve recruited the head Protectors for this set of missions, that must mean you trust them. At least somewhat, aye?”

He glanced at her, but Iris couldn’t read his expression. Part of her admired him for his control, and another part wished he’d relax a little more around her.

Her dragon snorted. And why is that?

Shush, dragon.

Why? With the contacts in, he can’t even tell we’re talking, aye? Actually, that could be fun—to flash sexy scenes in your head, make you hot and bothered, and Antony would think it’s you and not me.

Don’t even think about it.

Oh, calm down. I wouldn’t embarrass you that far. Although, I think you want him to loosen up around us because you’re curious. Curious enough to want to know the man behind the facade. Especially since he treats us as an equal and not lesser because of our gender or skin color.

“Iris?”

A hand touched her thigh, and electricity raced through her body. Her gaze met Antony’s, and he frowned before looking back at the road. “I asked you a question three times, and you never answered. Maybe I should’ve waited to give you the special contacts until later, so I can tell if you’re chatting with your dragon or ignoring me.”

His hand lingered, and for a second, he stroked her inner thigh.

But in the next second, he snatched his hand back, as if he’d been burned. “Pardon. I shouldn’t touch you.”

Her dragon hummed. Yes, he should.

Iris ignored her beast and cleared her throat. “If you vow to never touch me, then what if I fall and to save me, you need to grab my hand?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Aye, but it’s fun to tease you.”

He smiled, glanced at her, and back to the road. “I like you with your metaphorical hair down, Iris. I think you don’t let down your guard enough.”

“And you do?”

“Touché. But if we’re to work together, we should probably stop putting up masks at every opportunity when we’re alone. Deal?”

She studied his profile again. Her gut said this was a bad idea. She already sort of liked him. And if she relaxed, and he still teased and flirted and touched her? She might be stupid enough to open her heart again.

And yet, she pictured Antony leaving a picture with a kitten for a little girl to find on the tube in London, and she instantly wanted to know what else he did, outside of his job.

Or how he’d managed to keep his sense of humor and sanity intact after doing this type of work for so long.

She’d just have to ensure she didn’t let him in too much.

Her dragon sighed but remained quiet.

Iris nodded and answered, “Aye, deal. I’d shake hands, but I’d rather you focus on the road. Single track roads can be a pain to drive.”

“I rather like them because there are fewer arseholes around. Yes, some people don’t know the rules about who pulls over when they meet another car coming the opposite way. But considering the people I’ve had to face over the years, and some of the jobs I’ve had to carry out, it pales in comparison.”

This was her chance to know him better. So she asked, “What was your first assignment? Or maybe your most memorable? Unless you can’t share either without killing me?”

“I would never do anything to endanger you, my dear.”

“So, does that mean your entire past is a secret?”

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “A lot of it, but not all.”

“Then tell me about one of your most memorable missions.”

Antony remained quiet for over a minute, and Iris wondered if she’d pushed too hard.

But then he said quietly, “The most memorable is the one that got my fiancée killed.”