AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No one did, but that didn’t make it any better. I had no idea what was going on above me—or whether there was someone else waiting outside to pounce.
So I continued to stand there, my breathing rapid and my fingers bloody, the knuckles almost white with the force of my grip on the wrench.
No one came. After a few more minutes, my skin began to crawl with awareness, and although I’d heard no sound and could see no one coming down the teak-lined hallway, I knew Damon was near.
“Mer
cy?”
His voice sounded so close that I jumped. “Where the hell are you?”
“On the platform outside the door. I’m coming in. Don’t hit me.”
“Okay.” But I didn’t relax, keeping the wrench at the ready until he was through the door and it was obvious he was alone. Only then did I lower my weapon. “You okay?”
He half smiled. “There were only three of them, and they were draman rather than dragon. You?”
“Just the one, thank God.” I looked down at the man at my feet. “Should we tie him or something?”
“I’ll need to question them, so yeah. But if they are draman who can flame, then we’ll need to find something a little harder to burn than rope.”
He stepped over the man and walked across to the storage lockers. I dropped my weapon and pressed two fingers against the man’s neck. His pulse was a little rapid, but it was strong enough, and his nose had already stopped bleeding. If there was one good thing about being draman, it was having a dragon’s healing capabilities.
I wiped his blood off my hands, using the ends of his shirt as a towel, then rose and stepped away from him again. Damon came back with what looked like a fishing reel.
“That’s not fireproof,” I commented.
“No.” He raised the man’s hands so that they were behind his head, then tied them together with the fishing line. Then he looped more around the man’s neck and tied it back to his hands. which meant if the stranger struggled in any way, or tried to slip the line, he’d probably end up garroting himself. “You’ll have to keep an eye on our captives until we get out of the harbor.”
“You know how to drive a boat this size?”
“I’ve got one,” he said, and grabbed the man under the shoulders, hauling him as easily as a sack of grain up and over his shoulders. “The sea is a vast place, and sometimes it’s the only way you can get peaceful flying time.”
I followed him up the stairs. He dumped the man he was carrying on the sofa then tied up the other three, all of whom looked a whole lot less bloody than the man I’d confronted. But then, if Death didn’t know how to drop someone without effort, who would?
He turned and faced me. “Stay next to the stairs. Don’t go near any of them. If they start flaming in any way, call me.”
I nodded. “Can we get the boat out of the harbor without someone coming after us?”
“We’ll find out soon.” His voice was grim. Then he smiled and touched my cheek lightly. “I doubt there are any more henchmen out there right now. Four men to check a dead sea dragon could be considered overkill as it is.”
I resisted the urge to lean into his caress, and stared into his dark eyes instead. It wasn’t hard to find strength in those black depths. “What happens if someone realizes we’re stealing the boat?”
“We deal with it when it happens.” He glanced at his watch. “The moon doesn’t actually rise for another half hour, so it’s not going to be light enough for anyone to see who’s in the boat.”
Unless it was the owner himself. But I held the words in check and nodded. I wanted to keep my promise to rescue Coral, and this seemed to be the best way to achieve that.
He disappeared up to the bridge and I sat down on the stairs to watch the men. A deep rumble soon filled the silence, then lights flared across the stern and we began backing out of the slipway.
Tension slithered through me, and I half held my breath, expecting at any moment to hear someone shouting at us to stop. But we continued to back out, turning as we did, then the boat was moving forward slowly.
No one shouted. No one stopped us. And all too soon we were motoring under the Golden Gate Bridge and heading for open water.
I blew out a relieved breath and glanced at the four men. They were still and silent, yet heat was beginning to caress the air, meaning one of them was surreptitiously attempting to use his flames.
I rose and walked a little closer. Slow waves of heat lapped at my skin, and they were coming off the man lying on the curved end of the couch. Though his eyes were closed and his jaw slack, it was obviously an act. A draman—or a dragon, for that matter—couldn’t flame when unconscious.
His legs had been tied as securely as his arms, so I stopped next to him and touched two fingers to his shoulders. Waves of heat rose, flushing through my fingers and running up my arm, waking my inner dragon and making her hungry.
