Read the opening below to get a real feel for the characters, voice, and pacing before choosing an edition.
Dragon Chains
by Grace Goodwin & Becca Brayden
Chapter 3
3
Friday afternoon:
Katy walked across the gangway with a sigh of relief, the wash of early summer heat a welcome, soothing embrace after her mad dash home to grab Emily’s things, followed by a very long flight. Glancing between the weary travelers walking off the airplane with sloped shoulders and puffy eyes to the small crowd of people waiting just on the other side of the gangway, fresh and eager to board, drove home just how exhausted she really was.
Someone was supposed to meet her here. Or rather, meet Emily. Not knowing what to expect, Katy had taken the time to freshen up before landing with a quick swipe of clear lip gloss and a careful sweep of the mascara she always kept tucked in her small purse. Thankfully that was all the primping she needed, her skin naturally smooth and clear. Her long hair was another matter altogether. She could already feel stray curls escaping from the artfully sloppy bun she’d arranged on top of her head. Her thick, heavy hair had a mind of its own on good days and a bad attitude on all the others.
With little time to spare trying not to miss her flight, Katy had chosen not to exchange the long navy-blue skirt and cream-colored blouse she’d worn to work. She assumed whomever she was meeting would take her more seriously in her work clothing than in a pair of comfy yoga pants and a T-shirt. Emily had warned her these were serious people. Old money. Castles. Millions, maybe even billions of dollars tucked away in trust funds and investment accounts.
Old-fashioned, she’d said. And that kind of family would not appreciate athletic wear and sandals for a business meeting. Even if she had just gotten off an airplane.
Again a nagging worry crept into her thoughts. Exactly what had Em packed for this trip? They may be physically identical but their idea of fashion didn’t always mesh. Emily, when not wearing scrubs, was the epitome of flamboyant styles and bright colors, whereas Katy’s closet was a study in sensible, professional blues, beiges and coordinated business suits. The few fun items she did own seemed to always end up in Emily’s wardrobe. Katy whispered a plea to no one in particular that at least a few of her things had ended up accompanying her on this adventure.
Surely one of those four gigantic bags I checked in at the airport will be full of shoes? That was the one thing they both agreed on. Shoes make the world a better place and whomever has the most wins.
Glancing down as she smoothed a hand over the wrinkles in her skirt, she nearly collided with a very large man. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Pardon me. Er… Mi scusi?”
Where had they come from? How did she not notice them before?
“Buonasera, Signorina Toure. We welcome you back to Italy.”
Shit. They’re here for me? ALL of them?
Katy took a moment to look the group over. Four men, each the size of a tank. Even in expensive suits they looked like spies or military with bulging muscles, short hair, and dark sunglasses. All of them. The two women were nearly as tall and drop-dead gorgeous.
Genetics were so unfair. She’s always wanted to be a Mediterranean beauty. And the men…the men were stunning. Powerful. And the one who had spoken to her had shocking silver hair. Through his dark lenses she could see that his eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald. They didn’t look real. Was he wearing contacts?
“Is there a problem, Signorina Toure? Are you unwell?”
Crap. She was staring. Problem? There was a problem. But she didn’t dare say they were the problem; they were scary big, brooding, and gorgeous.
She shivered with sudden apprehension.
Not mafia. Please, Emily, not mafia.
Katy took a deep, slow breath and pasted on her best fake smile. Calm down. Don’t overreact. You can do this.
All she had to do was remember the rules for successful twin swapping. If someone makes a comment or asks a question Emily would understand but Katy did not, she would throw out a fact or two about herself instead. Always speak the truth so she wouldn’t have to remember any lies that might trip her up later. Last resort? Distraction.
“Buonasera, signor. I am well. Thank you. I mean grazie.” Katy forced herself to relax, releasing much of the tension between her shoulders. Emily had said these people were legit, so Katy needed to give them the benefit of the doubt. “I’m afraid my Italian is terrible. Thank you for meeting me at the gate. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble getting past security?”
The silver-haired man tucked a placard with Emily’s name on it into the inner pocket of his suit, gave a half smile and the tiniest of nods. “Airport security is never a problem. We have an arrangement. I am best known by the name Vector, and these”—he pointed to his companions from left to right—“are the triplets Mist, Frost, and Fury. Blade and Ash are cousins. If you would give your carry-ons and baggage claim ticket to Fury, he and Frost will collect your luggage while the rest of us escort you to the car.”
Ash? Fury? Blade? No one has names like that. Obviously not real. Maybe military call signs? Well, maybe Ash and Mist are real names. Ash might be short for Ashley. And Mist, well, that’s a pretty name. Frost could be short for Jack Frost. That guy is seriously lacking in the melanin department. But Fury? Blade? No way. They look like they could chew nails for breakfast. Good looks and expensive clothes can’t hide that kind of tough. Katy shifted from one foot to the other to relieve the pain in her aching feet.
“Baggage claim. Right.” Katy rummaged in her purse for the ticket, handing it over to Fury with an Emily-style grin full of good humor and mischief. “I hate that part of traveling, don’t you? If you don’t mind, I’ll hold on to the one bag. It has all my documents in it.” She patted her smallest carry-on containing Emily’s passport, tickets, and a few essentials.
Fury scowled, completely unmoved. “Our only priority is your safety. Any luggage kept with you could become a liability in an emergency, putting all of us in danger. Better to give it to me than lose it.”
Katy clutched her bag closer to her chest. An emergency? What kind of emergency, exactly? And why did Emily need so many escorts? Surely one driver with a car should have been enough?
Confidence rattled, her smile faltered. They all looked dangerous, but Fury looked like the type of man holding back his rage by the thinnest thread.
“Don’t mind my brother, Signorina Toure,” said Mist with a smile as she stepped in front of Fury, jabbing him in the stomach. “He’s always like that. I think he’s still bitter about being the youngest. Of course you may keep whatever you wish. We are your guardians, not your wardens.”
Guardians? What the hell did Emily get herself into? Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her heartbeat slowed a fraction as she straightened her shoulders. She was quiet, perhaps, but not a pushover. “My guardians? I assure you, I am in no need of babysitters. I can take care…”
Fury snarled through gritted teeth, “We’re not babysitters. We’re Guardians. The most lethal…”
“Enough,” snapped Vector. “Collect Signorina Toure’s luggage and bring the car to the back. We’ll meet you there once she is processed through customs.”
Fury nodded stiffly, turned, and stalked away, followed by a silent Frost.
“Signorina, we are running short on time. Please follow me.” Vector didn’t wait for her response, simply turned on his heel and began walking toward a set of doors she hadn’t even noticed before.
Katy had no choice but to follow. Whatever was going on, she had a role to play. Emily wanted her to sign papers, so that’s what she was going to do.
Her heels tapped on the tile floor as she made an effort to keep up with Vector’s much longer legs and purposeful strides.
Mist easily kept pace on her left, while Blade took up a position on her right. The other female of the group, Ash, followed silently behind. Katy was surrounded on all four sides. She would bet even the queen of England had never felt so well protected.
The VIP treatment didn’t stop with bodyguards and luggage retrieval. Whisked through the door on the side, they walked a short distance to an elevator, down to a private suite complete with a very comfortable looking couch and refreshments.
“Signorina Toure,” Vector said with a satisfied grin, “a customs agent will arrive shortly to stamp your passport. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable. This is a private suite. No one will disturb you here.”
“Terrific. Thank you.” Katy helped herself to a chilled bottle of water, then sat and pulled out her phone. She quickly switched off the airplane mode to send Emily a message. Her fingers flew across the keys as she typed:
Katy: Just landed. What’s with bodyguards? Sure about this deal? Not mafia, right? Did you pack my one-piece?
Katy sipped at her water as she waited for a reply. She longed to take off her stiletto heels and rub her aching feet before curling up on the overstuffed couch but resisted the temptation. She was hoping she wouldn’t be here that long. A quick buzz in her hand drew her eyes to the phone.
Emily: Hey. Lots of guards at the estate, too. Don’t worry. Pretty sure not mafia. Real estate $$$. No one piece. Sorry. Bikinis all the way. Also did a little shopping.
Katy frowned in confusion as a winky face emoji popped up on her screen. Before she could text a reply, a uniformed customs agent rushed through the door, his face tense. He stamped her passport without more than a glance her way, then left again.
From the suite they sped through the airport on an electric cart, Katy again in the center. Her four ‘Guardians’ surrounded her, facing outward with Vector driving at a determined, almost dangerous pace.
She was more than a little surprised when he drove the cart out of the terminal. He stopped alongside a super stretch Mercedes limousine; half of her sister’s luggage stacked on the luggage cart as Fury loaded the second bag. Wrapped haphazardly around each large bag was black and yellow security tape. If it weren’t for the luggage tags, it would be nearly impossible to identify the bags at all. They’d been nearly destroyed. She could see slash marks all up and down the bags exposing clothes, toiletries, and one of her favorite heels.
Damn it, she knew her sister was still ‘borrowing' all her best shoes.
“What the hell happened to my bags?” Shocked and horrified, she turned and looked to the right, then left. No one seemed fazed by the dilapidated condition of her bags, least of all Vector.
“Do not worry, Signorina Toure. We will protect you,” Vector said offhandedly as he stepped out of the cart to address Fury. “Any other problems? I expected you to be here long before us.”
Fury scowled. “They inspected every bag by hand. Twice. Slashed through the top rather than break the locks. They all passed inspection, though, so whatever they were looking for wasn’t in there. He will need to hear about this.”
“Agreed.” Vector scanned the area, well aware the ‘he’ Fury referenced was none other than their king. “Anything else I need to know about?”
“The usual.” Fury’s lips tightened. “Frost is handling it.”
Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Katy held her breath and listened with growing concern. Vector had said they would protect her. Protect her from whom? Was she actually in danger? Who were they talking about? An icy finger of fear crept up from her stomach to wrap around her chest. Was Emily in trouble? Was she in danger here? What the hell was she, no, what were THEY, now involved in?
Vector nodded grimly. “Very well. Finish loading the bags and let’s get out of here.”
Katy stepped from the electric cart and walked toward the limousine door Vector opened for her. About to step into the cooling comfort of the air-conditioned vehicle, a loud scraping noise made her pause with one foot inside, her hand balanced on the door.
There on the ground lay her sister’s torn up bag, the tape holding the fabric together broken clean through. A dozen or so bra and panty sets lay strewn haphazardly on the ground. Some lacy, some thong, all matching along with a few satin baby-doll nighties and silk camisoles. Katy groaned, her face flaming with embarrassment. She squeezed her eyes shut as she removed her foot from the car, practically running toward the spilled items as her guards bent to help her retrieve them.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got it,” Katy mumbled as she stuffed items back into the bag as quickly as possible. She grabbed the red baby-doll nightie from the ground, realizing too late her sister had used the soft material to wrap something else. A long slender box rolled out, landing atop Vector’s foot. There, in big bold letters, were the words “Extreme Turbo Power Bullet with Remote Control.”
Katy gasped, frozen in place as one by one their gazes trailed from the bullet back to her. Mortified, face flaming, ears burning, she couldn’t get a single word out. Emily had packed a sex toy, and they all thought it was Katy’s! She wanted to sink under the ground and stay there for the rest of the week. Finally, without thinking, she squeaked out, “That’s…that’s not…”
“Yours?” Mist laughed and gave Katy a wink as she picked up the box and casually stuffed it back into Katy’s bag. Returning to help Katy with the rest of the clothes, she whispered conspiratorially, “Whoever said diamonds are a girl’s best friend didn’t have a bullet.”
Katy only nodded, still too embarrassed to say anything rational as the limousine was loaded with the rest of her bags. Although it seemed like hours, only a few minutes passed before the entourage was comfortably settled in and the limousine sped out of a small side gate and into traffic. Dear God, what’s next? Can this day get any worse?
She shouldn’t have asked.
After a twisting, turning car ride that made her slightly motion sick, she was escorted into the darkest, most dreadful office she could ever have imagined. The wood was dark. The floor was dark. The walls, the drapes, even the lights seemed dim and only slightly illuminated the room. The chill inside was a stark contrast to the bright, sunny day outside. It reminded her of a cave, minus the dripping water and squeaking bats.
She sat on the oversized leather sofa, trying to be patient as Vector left her alone with Mist. After at least twenty minutes of awkward silence, Vector strode back in the room, his posture indicating a man under extreme stress.
“My apologies. We will not be able to sign the contracts this evening,” he informed her, a note of sadness and frustration in his voice.
“Okay. I understand.” That was fine with her. All she wanted now was to get out of these shoes, take a quick shower to wake herself up, and maybe enjoy a stroll through the enchanting village she’d seen from the car window as they approached the estate.
“Tomorrow morning? Shall we say ten?”
“Yes, I will be ready at ten.” She tried to sound calm and professional but was really thrilled. Ten would mean she could sleep in, take her time. Maybe even wander around this gigantic estate she’d barely caught a glimpse of as she was whisked into a guarded garage and to this gloomy office. “Since you will not be needing me right now, would it be possible for me to freshen up? It was a very long flight and I would like to see if any of my luggage is salvageable.”
“Of course!” Vector winced as if she’d shamed him. “Mist, escort the lady to her chambers and see to it she has everything she needs.”
Mist nodded and held out her hand to indicate Katy should precede her out of the room. When they were in the hallway, Mist stepped up beside her.
“This way.” She led Katy down a series of stone hallways lined with tapestries and treasures that must have cost a fortune. They walked on rugs that probably cost more than Katy made in a year at the law firm. The deeper into the castle they walked, the more Katy felt trapped, like a prisoner.
“Am I allowed to leave? I’d like to walk around the village a bit. Do a little touristy shopping. Maybe have a glass of wine?” It was still early. She could shower, grab a quick nap, and still have a few hours to spend before she would need to lie in bed and battle her jet lag.
“Or limoncello. You must try it.” Mist chuckled. “Of course, you may go exploring. I am honored to be your guide.”
“We don’t need the entire entourage?”
“Indeed not.”
Katy nearly sighed in relief at the thought of getting away from all the intensity and posturing from the men. And the twin swapping. God, she hated lying about who she was. Trying to be her sister all the time was exhausting. Emily owed her. Big-time.
“Just double-checking since there were so many of you at the airport.”
Mist’s smile grew wider. “We are in our home territory now. No one would dare try to hurt you here.”
As opposed to where? The airport? The next town over?
What kind of insanity had Emily dragged her into?
Deep underground, Ryker’s entire body shook with suppressed desire. Power. Agony. His dragon raked impatiently at his insides with invisible claws and pulled, grappled with the heavy chains holding him prisoner.
Now. Now. Now.
Unable to respond through the dragon’s heavy layers of emotion, Ryker drew the dragon chains tighter about himself. It was the only way to suppress the waves of magic battering him from the inside out.
Be calm, dragon. We will find her.
Something was different about Emily Toure. His dragon sensed it as soon as she entered the main palazzo. The beast became crazed. Even now he could barely connect to the dragon’s thoughts, fought with every breath to contain him. The creature had never fought so hard.
Mate!
That one word brought Ryker up short. Mate? That was impossible. He’d met Emily Toure months ago. Touched her skin. Allowed his dragon to take in her scent. She was not their mate.
MATE! The dragon’s bellow felt as if it would crack his skull in half from the inside.
Vector entered the room, and the dragon roared a warning.
“Calm down, Brother. She is here. All is well.”
But she was not in his home. Not anymore. He’d felt her leave. Known the moment her energy, her presence left the protection of the family compound.
Calling upon a will forged from centuries of struggle, Ryker pushed the dragon deep and regained his human form. “Where is she?”
“My king, she wished to spend some time in the village. Mist and another are acting as her Guardians.”
Mine! The dragon clawed at Ryker’s insides, demanding freedom to go after her.
His mate.
Dragon flame leaped into his eyes. Ryker felt the burn as Vector stepped back.
“Do not singe the hair off my head. She is perfectly safe.”
Ryker’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he waved a hand down his clothes, changing them with dragon magic from the suit he’d donned to a more casual look. Black slacks. Blue button-down shirt more appropriate for clubbing or an evening out. The golden chains ever-present around his neck. The Elven magic in the necklace might be the only thing powerful enough to keep him from dragging Emily Toure into the night like a beast and making her his.
His dragon clawed, eager to do exactly that, but Ryker was firmly in control now.
Silence, dragon. We will claim her. Tonight.
Ryker’s steel will calmed the dragon as nothing else could. They were in agreement. The female was theirs. Their mate.
Vector stepped forward, looking confused. “What is happening?”
“I am going hunting.”
