Mated to the Water Dragon (High House Draconis Book 2) Page 2

  “Something has come up,” Victory said. “We will be altering the plans. We are unable to commit to something of this scale.”

  Cheryl’s heart, and hopes, plummeted like an out of control elevator. “What do you mean?” She managed to keep her voice from cracking, but it was a close call.

  “The Outreach Center project is going to have to be downsized,” Victor said, tapping the drawings.

  Drawings she’d painstakingly spent ages on, going back and forth with the architects, her own designers, Aaric and the construction team leads she was looking to hire to complete the project. So many people had spent so much time on these. Now Victor was just going to throw them away?

  “I don’t understand,” she said, placing a hand on the same drawings. “These are what Aaric wanted. What he desired. We showed him them and he said he loved them. What changed?”

  “Like I said,” Victor replied icily. “Something came up.”

  Did she miss her guess, or had his voice just wavered as well? There was nothing in his exterior to suggest he was close to crumbling, but Cheryl swore she’d heard something. A hitch, a wobble, something other than the hard, cold iron he’d been showing her since the start.

  Something else was going on here, and unless she missed her guess, it was about her. Still, Cheryl couldn’t focus on that, not now, not with the project in jeopardy.

  “What sort of downsizing are you talking about?” she asked tentatively. “Does Aaric know?”

  “Of course, he knows,” Victor snapped. “We’re family. This was his decision as much as mine. He just doesn’t have time for it anymore. I will be handling the downsizing. It will be…intensive and must be done immediately. I will be in touch.”

  Then he was gone, striding from the office, leaving the other four sitting or standing in various states of shock.

  Cheryl looked around, only to notice the others were slowly turning their attention to her. As they should, she reminded herself. She was in charge. Liz, Tanya and Stephen were all looking to her for guidance.

  “Stay here,” she said, forcing herself to sound stronger than she felt. “I’ll go talk to him. See if I can find out more.”

  Then she too left the office, going after Victor. He wasn’t about to spring something like this on them and just leave. Not without one hell of a more thorough explanation.

  Anger surged through her body, rising with each stride as she went.

  No, he wasn’t going to get away that easily at all.

  3

  “Victor.”

  It came out half-hissed but Cheryl was beyond caring. She’d had to chase him through half the building, his damnably long strides forcing her to nearly run after him. That had helped the festering anger simmer over by the time she actually did catch up.

  “Yes, Miss Anders?” he asked, clearly irritated.

  Well too bad, mister. You don’t get to be irritated. Not after the stunt you just pulled.

  “May I speak to you?” she asked, trying to remain polite.

  Victor shook his head. “I’m busy, I really—”

  “Yes, in here will be fine,” she said, stepping past him and opening the office door, gesturing for him to go inside. It was empty, the occupant somewhere else, much to her relief.

  The big man eyed her slowly from head to toe, though he never focused too uncomfortably on any particular part. It was an evaluation, almost as if trying to scan her, to determine her threat level. She didn’t experience any sort of sexual energy from it.

  “Very well,” he said, and stepped inside.

  Cheryl took a deep breath and followed, pulling the door closed behind her.

  Immediately, she regretted her choice of office. It was small, the space tight. Meaning she was much closer to Victor than she wanted, suddenly aware of his presence in a way she hadn’t been before.

  You’re here to tear a strip off his hide, not the suit off his shoulders! Remember that, she told herself, trying her best to stay focused. He was less than two feet away from her, meaning she had to crane her head back, opening herself up to him.

  It was uncomfortable, but she couldn’t determine why. Why was she so unable to maintain her composure with him? This was all about business. She didn’t want him to grab her by the hips and push her back onto the cluttered desk…did she?

  Focus!

  “What can I do for you, Miss Anders?” Victor asked, sounding almost tired.

  Her ire spiked and Cheryl latched onto it, using it to burn away her other thoughts, returning to the matter at hand, though it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. The fire was slowly filling other parts of her as well.

  “I want some answers,” she said bluntly.

  “About?” Victor almost yawned, he seemed so casually uninterested.

  “This is a huge project for Plymouth Falls. One of the biggest in recent history. Everyone is excited at the opportunities it presents for us, and for the Drakon family, a key component of our town’s history.”

  She wanted to vomit at the platitudes spilling from her mouth, but sometimes, she knew, a client had to be buttered up.

  “The key component,” Victor said in a very matter-of-fact way that caused her to frown. “But I wouldn’t expect you to know that. What is your point?”

  “My point is, we need this. The town needs it. Yet you seem keen to take it away. Why? What’s going on? What changed all of a sudden? Aaric never hinted there would be anything that might stop it.”

  Victor snorted. “Aaric is, unfortunately, bless his heart, an idealist, and he doesn’t always know what is and isn’t feasible. Once he put me on the project along with some others in our employ, we realized it simply was too much. It’s too big. We must downsize to something more realistic.”

  He wasn’t budging. There wasn’t an ounce of compromise in his tone to indicate that there was a way to save the project as it was. Which meant that Cheryl had to save as much as she could. Not to let them downsize as much as they’d like.

  Get him to commit to a number.

  “So, what are you thinking? Eighty percent of the size?” she asked casually.

  Victor didn’t snort. Not quite. But she felt the laughter just the same.

  “Closer to ten percent,” he said.

  How the hell did he keep a straight face over that?

  “Ten percent?” she gasped. “That’s ridiculous. You’re basically just pulling the rug out from under the entire project. Stealing our hope away,” she added, trying to appeal to his human instincts.

  The words had the complete opposite effect. Where she’d expected Victor to perhaps sigh and give her another explanation, she got cool, flowing fury. His eyes grew brighter and she swore the iris swirled around the pupil like some sort of living creature. It was so astonishing, she gasped and backed away.

  But the office was cramped and she got no more than a step farther before her legs brushed up against the desk, stopping her in her tracks.

  “Stealing?” Victor hissed, sounding almost lizard-like. “You would dare to accuse me of stealing? You, who has thievery and deception in your blood? A very core part of you! Yet you would act like I am the one stealing? No, I am just taking back what is mine.”

  Cheryl blinked, both afraid and confused. “What are you talking about? In my blood?”

  Victor laughed, a deep, ominous sound. It should have made her want to lunge for the door, to get back into the hallway where others could see her. Yet for some reason, she stayed put. Her feet rooted to the spot because of something else, something she could hear beneath the laughter.

  Pain.

  “You know full well of what I speak,” he growled. “I know what you’re up to with this project. Carrying on your legacy. Once wasn’t enough for you, was it?” he snapped.

  She pressed herself back against the table as he came closer, but he wasn’t coming for her. He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, pausing, his shoulders filling the entire frame.

  “I tried to do t
his the easy way,” he warned. “But if you try to fight me, it will get messy. Am I understood?”

  “Of course not,” she fired back. “Nobody understands, because you haven’t explained anything. You’re not making any sense, Victor. You’re talking as if we’re all aware of what you mean, but none of us has a clue.”

  “You do,” he said, levelling an accusatory finger. “I can see it in your eyes. Thief. You’re no different.”

  Then he was gone.

  Cheryl stood rooted to the spot for several moments, taking in deep breaths, steadying herself. She’d never held her ground in such a heated argument before, and the adrenaline flowing through her system was an unusual feeling.

  But she could use it.

  Darting into the hallway, she headed for the exit. She wasn’t about to let him have the last word. Not after he’d uttered a threat like that to her. Nor after accusing her of something that she wasn’t.

  She caught up to him at the elevators to the parking garage attached to one level of the sprawling municipal offices building. He’d pressed the button to go up.

  “Victor.”

  He spun to face her. “You do—”

  “No,” she spat, holding up a finger. “I’m talking here.”

  Eyebrows shot up as she cut him off icily. There might have been humor dancing in his eyes, but Cheryl didn’t notice, nor did she care. She was going to say her piece.

  “I don’t know what you think you know about me, my team, or this town,” she snapped as the elevator dinged. “But whatever it is, you’ve got us all wrong. You and Aaric both, you’re misjudging us. We’re not thieves, we’re not stealing from you. Hell, you came to us! Whatever is going on, tell me, and we can work through it together. This doesn’t have to go this way.”

  Victor laughed. He laughed, at her. Cheryl had never been so incensed in her life.

  “If you want to know, I suggest you go ask your ancestors,” he said cryptically, then backed into the open elevator.

  “What does that mean?” she half-shouted. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Think harder than, thief.”

  The doors closed, leaving her a little upset, a lot angry, but most of all, thoroughly confused.

  Victor was after her. Personally. Except she had no idea who he was, or what he was talking about.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” she moaned at the blank gray metal doors.

  In her mind, she could see her new promotion and her dreams of sticking it to her parents all going up in smoke.

  4

  Victor arrived back at Drakon Keep like a tsunami.

  “Aaric!” he bellowed, his voice thundering through the empty hallways. “I know you’re here, brother,” he spat, finally unleashing the full anger he’d kept at bay around Cheryl.

  He knew she thought he’d been an ass to her, and though he didn’t care, at one point he’d noticed her step away from him as if she’d feared for her own safety. That just contributed to his fury at his fellow dragon shifter. How dare he do this to him, to the point where a human, even one who looked so like her, was afraid of him?

  “Victor?”

  “You want no part in this, Francis,” he growled as the main steward of the Keep appeared several moments later. “This is between Aaric and me. It will be dangerous to you.”

  “Aaric!” he shouted again, his voice ringing out through the massive hallway that led straight into the heart of the Keep. The massive arched ceilings overhead took his voice and flung it all about.

  Aaric would hear him. And he would come. When he did, Victor would be ready.

  “Are you sure there’s no way that I may be—”

  Francis’ voice cut off abruptly as a wall of water appeared in front of him, blocking the doorway in which he stood.

  Victor turned to fix the human with a glare to emphasize his point. Instead of retreating, however, the steward sighed and then pushed his head through the wall until his face appeared on Victor’s side.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, then withdrew before Victor could get in the last word.

  Victor took the anger at that and turned it on his “brother”, calling out his name once more.

  “I heard you the first time.”

  The water dragon spun at the voice behind him. There he was. The bastard who had set him up.

  “You knew about this!” he accused, striding forward. “You knew. That’s why you woke me. That’s why you put me in charge of this project. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a joke. All a joke. That’s all you think of me, that I’m a joke, don’t you!” he howled.

  The room was growing humid as water was drawn in toward the enraged dragon, thickening the atmosphere in the entire room. Everywhere, that is, except for a small circle around Aaric where the air shimmered with barely restrained heat.

  Fire versus water. The oldest of battles.

  “I told you already, Victor. It was a mistake. We didn’t know what we were doing and we screwed up. We made the mistake. This isn’t about you.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said bitterly. “I believed you, you know. I actually believed you. Your logic made sense. But did you really think I wouldn’t see through your lies after doing your work for you today? That I wouldn’t recognize her?”

  Aaric thrust both hands out to the side, palms up. “Victor, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Her,” he hissed. “Your little project manager with the town. The one you want me to work with.”

  “Cheryl?” Aaric asked, the calm manner with which he spoke stirring the waters even more between them. “What about her?”

  “It’s her!” Victor screamed. “How can you not see that? It’s her! You knew that, and you woke me so I would have to deal with her while you laughed behind my back!”

  The water in the room abruptly swept toward him at the same instant he thrust his hands forward, adding his own water to the mix. A giant wave crashed over Aaric and washed him right out the doors of the Keep.

  Victor took two steps and then launched himself forward off the steps that led back down to the driveway. He landed, barely flexing his knees.

  Fifty feet away, Aaric was standing up as steam billowed around him, the strong winds catching the cloud and dissipating it in seconds.

  “That was uncalled for, brother,” Aaric growled.

  “Says you.”

  Victor’s right hand came up and around as he knelt, slamming the fist into the concrete. Water pooled up from the earth under Aaric and erupted like a geyser. It immediately hissed into steam as Aaric called upon his fire to protect him.

  There was a lot that dragons could do with the control of their elements. Aaric could counter any water attack given proper preparation, just as Victor could do the same for fire. What neither of them could control, however, was the sheer physical force that came with the attack.

  The upthrust of water caught Aaric and flipped him backward. Victor hit him in mid-air with another blast of liquid. The force of both tossed him thirty feet in the air and a hundred feet back. The fire dragon hit the ground, bouncing and rolling, leaving a line of scorched grass where his exposed skin made contact with the ground.

  “You put me up to this!” Victor screamed, feeding off his shame and embarrassment, off memories he wished he didn’t have as he charged after the fire dragon. “Why? What did I ever do to you?”

  He blasted Aaric again. The fire dragon crouched, but he was unable to prepare entirely for the strength of the stream of water. Much of it turned to steam, but more of it wrapped its tendrils around his body, tightening, squeezing, invading his pores, his ears and nose.

  Aaric screamed in pain as Victor sank his power in deep. Tears flowed down his face.

  He could no longer see the lush grounds of Drakon Keep. Victor was elsewhere now. In front of him was the thick figure of a woman with silvery-white hair and laughing brown eyes that danced as she waggled a finger and told him it was too late. That he couldn
’t back out now.

  Water lashed out from his hands, a recreation of what he’d wanted to do to her back then. It flowed around her and slipped into every opening on her body. He pushed with his mind and the water opened her pores and flooded her body. She began to shake, to tremble and writhe violently as she quite literally drowned in front of him.

  He could see it now. This was what he’d wanted to do to her. The retribution he’d longed to wreak, but had been unable, his hands restrained by the elders.

  Well, there were no elders now, and Victor could have his revenge! Nobody could stop him. She would pay for what she’d done to him. Nobody would laugh at him. Not anymore.

  The woman rose in the air as he lifted her clear, the water pooling underneath her, constrained by his will. By him. He was in charge!

  The screams of the woman filled his ears, her long dress flowing, so unlike the suit he’d seen her in early that day. Victor started to smile as he knew the end would be soon. It was almost here.

  But the screams grew louder, and deeper. They merged together until they became one terrible roar. At the same time, the woman’s body began to glow.

  No! What’s going on! She’s got to die. She must die!

  The light intensified and he watched in horror as the water he was pouring into her was pushed back out of her body by a glowing aura of fire. It countered his attack in a trillion places, emerging from under her skin like a protective layer, a shield that covered every inch of her body.

  Water met that fire and flashed to steam so rapidly that in seconds, she was obscured from his view.

  There was a dull thud and a blast of steam raced out and over him. Victor looked around wildly, trying to find her. He sucked in all the moisture in the air and the steam vanished faster than the wind could blow it away.

  A slight vibration in the earth was his only warning. He spun to meet the attack, but all he saw was a fire-wreathed fist a moment before it slammed into his jaw.

  Victor flew back, went ass over head as he rolled until he came to a stop on his back, staring up at the afternoon sky. Dark clouds were rolling in, he noticed, reaching out to feel the weather. Yes, as he’d thought, a storm would be following shortly behind.