Chapter Four

Vasili was heading toward a favorite restaurant before he left the city when he felt a hard tug in his chest, almost like a physical pull. It was so unusual, so unexpected, he stopped in his tracks and scanned the area, turning in a full circle.

People looked at him as they passed, but he ignored them. He didn’t see or sense a threat. He shook off the sensation and began to walk again. He’d taken only four steps when he was pulled in another direction. It was as though his dragon half was trying to compel him to go the opposite way.

All the more reason not to go. Vasili didn’t like anything out of the ordinary, and this certainly qualified. He kept going, but walking became more difficult. He began to actually sweat.

This isn’t good. Not at all.

He only had one course of action. He needed to find who or what was causing this odd sensation. Then he needed to either kill them or destroy whatever was making him feel this way. There were no other options.

Determined, Vasili gave a small growl that startled a man passing him. He spun around and followed the unseen pull, his strides getting longer. He had to force himself not to run.

Thankfully, he’d already destroyed the artifact he’d gotten earlier from Father Petrov. He had the melted chunk of gold in his pocket, hadn’t wanted to risk leaving it behind. He planned to toss it in the middle of Lake Baikal or maybe bury it in a crevice in the mountains where it would never be found.

What he was feeling now wasn’t anything like what he’d sensed when he’d held the artifact. This didn’t drain him of power as much as it called to him. His blood was humming, his dragon practically purring.

Who or what was calling him?

Snow crunched under his boots as his strides ate up the distance between him and whatever was pulling at him. He paused at an intersection. Left or right? He turned his head one way and then the other. Left it was.

He was getting closer. Anticipation surged within him. He narrowed his gaze and scanned the street, trying to home in on the beacon. There were shops and restaurants along both sides. His gaze passed over one side, paused momentarily on a dubious antique shop and then immediately landed on a small diner almost directly across from it.

That was his goal. He knew it was as sure as he knew his own name.

Vasili moved more cautiously now. The last thing he wanted to do was to step into some kind of trap. It hadn’t escaped him that this was probably some ploy, some lure by the Knights of the Dragon to capture one of his kind.

He paused outside and peeked through the window. It was a small local establishment, nothing fancy, the kind of place friends and families could stop for a bite to eat. There were people seated at the various tables. He immediately dismissed the two tables with groups of men, the couple in the corner, and the families with children. There were two tables that had single people sitting at them. One was a man, the other a woman.

His gaze landed on the woman, and he couldn’t pull it away. Without him even realizing it, he reached out and opened the door. Most of the patrons stared at him when he entered. His large size often had that affect. They quickly glanced away and went back to their conversations, their tones muted.

But not the woman. She was staring down at an open book on the table in front of her, tapping it with the end of a pen. She seemed oblivious.

She was lovely. Her winter coat was draped over the empty chair beside her, leaving her dressed in jeans, well-worn hiking boots, and a heavy gray sweater. Her short hair was pale, like sunshine. Her skin was flawless.

She didn’t look like an operative for the Knights. Of course, that was what made her so dangerous.

Whatever was calling him, it was coming from her. He walked across the room and stood next to her. Sensing someone was beside her, she glanced up and up until she met his gaze. Her eyes were blue, the pure shade of a summer’s sky. He was caught in them. Those eyes widened as she stared at him.

She slowly set her pen down on her notebook. She glanced around to see if anyone else was with him before whispering, “Did Nic send you?”

Not what he’d been expecting, but he decided to roll with it, hoping to learn more about her. “Yes.”

She nodded and moved her coat to the back of her own chair. “Sit. Please.”

Vasili sat but kept his jacket on and stayed alert. If he had to make a run for it, he wanted to be ready.

She picked up her mug, sipped her tea, and set it back down. “Umm, I’m not sure why you’re here. I mean, you guys have kept a low profile. It’s only by chance that I caught sight of one of you in Kiev and gave you the slip. I didn’t know my brother-in-law had hired bodyguards.” She licked her lips and fiddled with her spoon. He was making her nervous. Good. Nervous people spoke more freely.

“I know you know who I am, but since we’ve never been formally introduced, I’m Abigail Owens.” She thrust out her hand.

Vasili hesitated and then carefully wrapped his fingers around hers. He had to touch her. Her skin wasn’t as soft as he’d expected. There were rough spots, and her skin was chilled, not warm.

He didn’t like the idea of her being cold.

And why he should even care, he didn’t know. She was nothing to him. Yet somehow she was.

Abigail Owens. He said the name over and over in his head, savoring it like a fine wine.

“Ah.” She tugged her hand back when he held on to it for too long. “Is there something wrong? Did they find me?” She leaned in and whispered the last part.

“Did who find you?” he whispered back, picking up her urgency and a sense of fear.

“You don’t know?” She jerked back. “What exactly did they tell you?”

Since he didn’t know who “they” were and had no idea who her brother-in-law—the man who’d supposedly hired him—was, Vasili simply shrugged. “Only to watch you.”

“I should call Nic.” She started to reach into her bag for her phone, but he caught her arm, stopping her.

“There’s no need to worry him. I can keep you safe.” He decided to improvise, using what she’d told him. “Since you lost one of us, it was decided I should stay closer.”

The relief that encompassed Abigail was palpable. What did this young woman have to be so afraid of? And she was young. Early twenties by his estimation, although there was something about her that made her seem older, more mature.

“I should have known. Nic is protective of both me and my sister.”

Vasili couldn’t fault the man for that. Although, if the man was so protective, what was Abigail doing running around Moscow all by herself? And he hadn’t seen any bodyguards when he’d scanned the area. He didn’t think there was anyone watching over her.

His dragon roared inside him, not liking the idea of her being alone, but disliking the idea of another man watching her even more.

Vasili was totally confused.

Abigail reached for her mug again, and it was then he saw it. The sleeve of her sweater rose, exposing her slender wrist with a cuff-style bracelet wrapped around it. The silver was tarnished to a dull gray, but the gem caught the weak sunlight reflecting in through the window.

It was a drakon tear.

He caught her wrist and tugged it toward him. “Where did you get this?”

…

Abigail licked her already dry lips. Her new bodyguard was huge. He was as big, or bigger, than her brother-in-law, and that was saying something, because Nic was the largest, most intimidating man she’d ever met. Even though he was wearing a leather jacket with a sweater beneath it, she knew there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the stranger. The way he moved, like a wild animal stalking his prey, spoke of a man in peak physical condition.

His eyes were blue, but oh so pale. They reminded her of a picture she’d once seen of the ice of Lake Baikal. The blue was almost otherworldly. He had light-brown hair that had been tousled by the wind. His face was sculpted, his cheekbones high, and his chin square. She wanted to photograph him.

She’d noticed him the second he’d walked into the small restaurant, even though she’d pretended not to. No one with eyes could miss him. He seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the room and replace it with testosterone.

Now he was focused on her bracelet.

“Where did you get this?” he repeated.

She had to force herself to ignore the tingles running up her arm. His fingers were warm, almost hot against her skin. Abigail pointed out the window. “The shop across the street.”

He frowned as though he didn’t quite believe her. “When?” he asked.

“Just now.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp, relieved when he released her without a fuss. She dug into her bag and yanked out the receipt and papers the proprietor had given her. He took them and studied them.

“Ah, you never told me your name?” And that was making her feel even more nervous.

“Vasili.” He handed her back the papers and watched as she tucked them away. “And you just bought a tarnished bracelet that doesn’t look like much of anything?”

She tugged her sweater sleeve back down over her wrist, feeling oddly protective over the piece of jewelry. “Yes.” And why did it matter to him what she bought?

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. Just then, the waitress rushed up to the table and spoke to him in Russian. It occurred to Abigail he’d been talking to her in flawless English all this time. Whatever he said, he must have given the waitress his order, because she nodded and hurried off.

He pointed back to her wrist. “You were telling me about the bracelet.”

No, she wasn’t. The fact he was so interested in it was making her nervous. “It’s just a bracelet.” She tucked her hand under the table, her first instinct to protect the piece of jewelry. Not so much the cuff as the gem. She knew it was special, important in some way she didn’t totally understand but felt in her soul. It was a drakon tear. That made it priceless to certain people.

She really needed to talk to her sister.

“I need to call home.” She didn’t care what time it was back in the States, even though it was probably the middle of the night. She needed to talk to Constance.

Vasili was shaking his head again. He reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and shoved it in his own coat pocket.

It was then Abigail realized she’d made a huge mistake. Because he’d approached her, she’d assumed he was one of the bodyguards Nic had hired. She very much feared now he was a member of the Knights of the Dragon. But how had they found her? They weren’t supposed to know about her at all. Everyone who’d known about her was dead. That was what her sister and Nic believed.

Obviously, they’d missed something.

Either that, or Vasili was some kind of Russian mafia. That was a distinct possibility.

Abigail tried not to panic. “Why?” she calmly asked.

He flashed what he probably hoped was a reassuring smile, but it wasn’t anywhere close. It made him look predatory, dangerous. “I don’t want to get fired.”

She nodded as though she believed him. The waitress came and set a plate of food and a mug of tea on the table. Abigail took the opportunity to ask, “Where is the lady’s room?”

When the woman only gave her a questioning look, Abigail turned to Vasili. He asked her in Russian. The waitress smiled and pointed to a short hallway.

Abigail smiled. “Thank you. Spaseeba,” she repeated in Russian. She stood and grabbed her bag, leaving her coat behind. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She hoped that leaving her coat behind would reassure him. All women took their bags to the bathroom with them.

She felt Vasili’s gaze on her as she walked down the small hallway. Thankfully, it took her out of his view. She kept on walking past the ladies’ room and found a doorway at the end. She opened it, stepped outside, and looked around. When she didn’t see anyone there, she began to walk. Fast. She didn’t run, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention. She wished she had her phone.

Her teeth began to chatter, and not because of the cold. She was too numb to sense the bitter wind penetrating her sweater. No, it was fear. She knew what could happen to her if he caught her, and that left her terrified.

She paused at the end of the street and almost panicked. She couldn’t remember which way to go. She looked around and breathed a sigh of relief when familiar landmarks popped out. She turned in the direction of her hotel.

The urge to hurry was strong, but there was a part of her that wanted to go back, wanted to be near Vasili, which was crazy. Wasn’t it?

Whoever he was—she no longer believed he was a bodyguard hired by Nic—he was dangerous. And just where were the bodyguards Nic had hired? There was no sign of anyone around when she finally needed them. Whatever Nic was paying them, they obviously weren’t worth it. First, she managed to give one the slip, and now that she could use some help, there was no one in sight. She was obsessing about that because she was scared out of her mind.

The snow scrunched under her boots, and she forced herself not to keep glancing over her shoulder. That would certainly attract unwanted attention.

Vasili had seemed to focus on the bracelet almost immediately, but it hadn’t been visible when he’d first stepped up to her table. She knew that for a fact, because she’d been careful to keep it hidden, knowing she had to keep it safe. Maybe she should have put it in her bag, but she’d had an overwhelming need to wear it.

The bracelet was more dangerous than she’d thought.

She knew that now, but it was too late. She’d already attracted trouble. She only prayed she could keep herself and the bracelet safe.

Her breathing increased, and it wasn’t all due to her haste. No, she recognized the anxiety creeping over her. Her limbs trembled, her lungs worked to pull enough air into her body, her heart raced, and in spite of the fact that she was cold, she was also sweating. She rubbed the fingers on her left hand.

She couldn’t get to her hotel fast enough.

A man stepped in front of her from seemingly out of nowhere. He was tall, not nearly as tall as Vasili, but still bigger than her. He was wearing a charcoal-black wool overcoat and black slacks. Vasili had worn jeans, boots, and an old leather jacket. This man looked more suave and sophisticated, but she was more frightened of him than she’d been of Vasili.

“Going somewhere, Miss Owens?” His English was heavily accented but precise.

She stumbled to a halt and stared at him. “Who are you?”

…

Vasili knew she was going to run out on him. He’d hoped she wouldn’t, but his instincts proved correct when he felt the pull from the bracelet getting farther away. He should just let her go.

But the bracelet was enhanced somehow, the power of the gemstone harnessed to create something to lure in an unsuspecting drakon. Were the Knights of the Dragon moving in now, hoping to capture him?

He wasn’t about to wait around and make it easy on them.

He stood and tossed some money on the table. More than enough to cover the bill and ensure the waitress asked no questions. He thought about leaving Abigail’s coat behind but couldn’t. Thinking about her being cold was making him crazy. He swore under his breath, grabbed her coat, and headed in the same direction she’d gone.

He went through the door at the back and kept walking. He didn’t need to track her footsteps in the snow or ask passersby if they’d seen her. No, all he had to do was follow the pull of the bracelet.

He was about to round a corner when instinct made him stop and peek around the barrier. Abigail was standing in the middle of the sidewalk shivering, and she was talking with a man.

The drakon side of him almost erupted in fury, which made no sense since they’d just met. He focused his preternatural hearing and listened.

“Who are you?” she asked the man. So they weren’t together. Vasili ignored the burst of elation that rocketed through him.

“You need to come with me,” the unknown man told her. He reached out to grab her arm, but she jumped back out of reach.

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re a valuable asset, Miss Owens, but my boss could decide to change his opinion of that value if you don’t cooperate.”

Vasili barely smothered a roar of anger.

“I don’t know who your boss is or what you want. I’m nobody.” She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced about as if searching for help.

As Vasili watched, people turned away from the altercation, and the street began to empty. Even two members of the politsiya turned their backs and walked away. Whoever this man represented, he was powerful enough to make the street police turn a blind eye.

Vasili slipped his phone out of his pocket and took several pictures of the man. He needed to discover who his boss was and why he was interested in Abigail.

“You may be nobody, but you have a special gift, don’t you?”

Abigail began to slowly back away, and the man tracked forward, matching her step for step. “This is about the bracelet I bought, isn’t it?” Instead of taking it off and giving it to the man, she tucked her arm closer to her body as though to shield it from view.

“You need to come with me,” the man repeated, his accent growing thicker with his agitation. Through with talking, he pulled a gun and pointed it at her. “You can do it the easy way or the hard way.”

Vasili expected her to go. People always caved at the sight of a gun. It was human nature.

“Go to hell.” She spun around and began to run. The man raised his arm and aimed.

Vasili tossed Abigail’s coat aside, broke cover, and silently raced forward. He was light on his feet, but there was no keeping quiet, not with the snow on the ground crunching beneath his feet. The assailant sensed someone coming up behind him at the last second but was too late. Vasili grabbed the man from behind and snapped his neck without thought, the crack loud in the silence. He’d threatened Abigail, had been about to shoot her. He didn’t deserve to live.

The body hadn’t even hit the ground when he moved on, running to catch up with Abigail. He stopped only long enough to scoop up her coat, knowing she’d need it.

He had to get to her. Whatever was going on, he had to protect her.