Klaus Page 2
“I’m going to miss this place, is all,” he announced. “It’s beautiful. Paradise.”
My gaze lovingly grazed the beach, the palms, the clear water all about me. “Aye. It does seem that.” I never would’ve imagined feeling this way, having such a change of heart. Not if I lived another thousand years, I was certain.
I was free, however. It was natural that I be able to see the beauty around me for what it was after having been released from the lab. I hadn’t been able to do so right away; the jungle was always there, always reminding me of whatever might be lurking in the deep darkness. Just inside the trees, eyes watching me, waiting until I let my guard down…
And me, with no way to defend myself.
“I can hardly wait to see Scotland.”
I nearly forgot to keep paddling, I was so surprised. “What did you say?” I shouted, certain I’d misheard him.
He sat up, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I said, I can hardly wait to see Scotland.”
So, I was correct. I hadn’t imagined it. And how did it make me feel? I couldn’t say. The ever-present tightness in my chest seemed to be easing. I could breathe more freely. I no longer heard the blood rushing in my ears. Was I finally relaxing?
“You don’t look pleased,” he observed, leaning forward to rest thick forearms over his bent knees. Even in the shade, his longish hair was golden, and his eyes a keen, sharp blue which seemed to penetrate even from a distance.
“I’m neither pleased nor unhappy. I suppose the more help we get in securing the caves, the better.”
“Which is exactly why Mary wants me to go.” The suddenness of his jumping to his feet startled me, no less so than when he removed his shirt.
“What are you doing?” The familiar sound of rushing blood was back, but not for the same reason. I chided myself; so, he had an impressive body, what difference did it make? I’d spent my entire life among bodies just as impressive as his.
Perhaps that was the issue. He was different. He wasn’t one of my kin.
He also wasn’t a dragon. Lion shifters and their ilk were hardly in the same league as Scottish dragons descended from the very first ancient dragons to walk the Earth.
He turned to the side, kicking off his shoes. “I’m tired of postponing my swim, and I refuse to leave St. Lucia without at least one more dip.” His fingers worked the button at the waistband of his shorts.
My cheeks colored in spite of the reassurance from my common sense that it didn’t matter what Klaus looked like. He was trying to scare me away, and I knew it. Did he know how old I truly was? How much I’d seen over the course of a seemingly endless life?
“Enjoy. The water is just wonderful.” I dove in, touching the sandy bottom before slowly kicking my way to the surface once again. It was a short journey, the water perhaps no more than ten feet deep where I’d come to a stop.
When I resurfaced, he was swimming to me, powerful arms allowing him to cut through the water like a speedboat. I moved out of the way, giving him wide berth, then began slowly paddling my way back to shore.
“I don’t bite,” he promised on surfacing, shaking the hair out of his eyes and chuckling at what he likely saw as shyness on my part.
“Perhaps I do,” I called out over my shoulder, having turned my attention to the shoreline. “I suppose you’ll find out for yourself once we’ve reached Scotland.”
The mere mention of the place sent bile rushing to my throat. Would it ever feel like home again?
Especially when I wasn’t myself?
I was deliberate in my actions as I walked from the water, very aware of the amount of skin I revealed with each step. Soon, the waves curled around my ankles, and if Klaus was watching, he’d see the pink panties and bra I’d been swimming in. If anything, my costume was more modest than what I’d seen girls wearing on TV and in movies.
Even so, I felt naked. Goosebumps rose over my skin when the breeze drifted through the trees and touched me. I wrung my hair out before sliding into my dress, the linen sticking to me in a dozen places.
But I wouldn’t look over my shoulder. I didn’t want to find him looking at me. There was already far too much weighing on my mind. An unfamiliar lion shifter was the least of my problems.
We’d be leaving in the morning, before the sunrise. I missed my room back home, the only home I’d ever known. As comfortable as the resort was, as luxurious, it wasn’t the same as being truly comfortable in a space meant only for me. I never felt quite settled in. A thousand years in the same place made adjusting to a new location an impossibility.
The pavement was hot beneath my bare feet as I walked down the winding path which led from the beach, through the grounds, and into the shining, white building with its plywood-covered windows. The pool was packed with those like me who’d decided to get a little extra swimming and sunning in before going back to the mountains.
I waved to Leslie and Isla, both of whom stretched out on deck chairs beneath a wide umbrella. My twin brother, Alan, was playing some sort of game with Dallas, Owen and a handful of Mary’s men which involved a ball and a lot of splashing and yelling.
Amazing, really, how terrible the circumstances were which led us there, and how the unknowing outsider would never be able to guess at first glance our reason for being on the island at all. We looked like a bunch of young, frisky people on holiday.
I supposed it was easier for them to think of themselves that way, as well. Better than remembering what happened to us, how hopeless things had looked before Gate and Miles had come to save us.
It’s good that we’re leaving. It’s good that we’re going home. The fewer reminders of that time, the better.
That wasn’t the case for me, sadly.
I carried a reminder with me all the time.
3
Klaus
I leaned over in my seat, raising my voice to be understood over the jet’s engines as we began taxiing down the runway. “I suppose flying is nothing new for you.”
Dallas laughed. He always seemed to be in a good mood, which was likely why I gravitated toward him when given the chance. The easiest one of the lot to talk to, though they had all relaxed and allowed themselves to open up once the shock of what they’d been through had passed.
And once we’d managed to flush the drugs from their systems.
Not all of them were drugged, it seemed. Only a handful. Any electronic files which had been maintained during the course of testing were destroyed prior to the liberation of the dragons. My assumption was that someone had wiped the network clean after hearing the shouts and destruction as Gate and Miles shifted and began killing all those obstructing their efforts to save the dragon shifters.
Not a bad last-minute move on their part, I had to ruefully admit.
Without those files, we had no way of telling what had been done to each of them. The dragons weren’t aware, either; they’d been told nothing of the injections they’d received or the effects of them. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know what to expect, as a placebo effect might have sullied the results.
Tell dragon shifters they’re receiving a drug which will make them rot from the inside out and they might begin feeling as though they’re doing that very thing.
It turned my stomach to imagine what went through the minds of those bastards as they conducted tests on living, breathing, sentient creatures. An extreme amount of disconnect had to have been present, the ability to pretend as though the creatures they were testing on weren’t people.
How could those bastards live with themselves otherwise?
Dallas leaned back in his leather-covered seat, a smile stretched across his face. “Aye, it’ll be a treat to be able to fly free again.”
“You weren’t able to back at the resort?”
“Mary didn’t take to the idea,” he explained with a good-natured shrug. “We explained to her that humans cannot see us once we’ve taken to the air, but she didn’t wish for us to press our luck. I can’t say t
hat I blame her. She had already taken many risks for our sake.”
“She was glad to do it. I’m certain of that.”
“You know her well, then?”
“Indeed. We’ve worked together for many years.” Decades, in fact, though I had hardly seemed to have aged a day. What must that have been like for her? Growing older while those she worked hard to protect stayed did not age?
“She must be a good boss, for you to have stayed with her for this long.”
“It’s more than that, after all, she protects more than shifters. She protects those under her command, as well.”
He seemed to accept this, at least, he didn’t ask further questions, which was a blessing. I wasn’t in the mood to share, not with a long flight ahead of me and a complete lack of knowledge with regard to where I was going.
I supposed there wasn’t much to know. A chain of mountains into which a series of caves had long since been carved. I’d already asked around to find whether anyone knew just how old those caves were or who had created them. No one answered.
Perhaps they’d always been there.
What hadn’t always been there was the advanced network the clan had put in place. From what they’d reported, every room of the underground compound was fully connected to every other room as well as the internet. TV, music, even electronic books. Anything a person or dragon or lion could ever need to keep themselves amused.
When we left the ground—that moment of hovering in the air, somewhere in between rolling over the tarmac and taking flight—the rest of the plane broke out in applause and more than a few laughs. It was, indeed, ironic that two dozen dragons were a jet plane.
I did not cheer. I did not laugh. I sat stock-still, hands on my knees, staring straight ahead. It wasn’t until the plane began climbing that I was able to take a single breath—a shallow one, at that.
There was nothing wrong with hating to fly. Nothing at all. Plenty of people didn’t enjoy it.
“Scared?”
I turned my head to the right and found a certain reddish-blonde-haired woman grinning at me, her green eyes cutting very deliberately to the hands which clasped my knees. I loosened my grip, flexing my fingers for show.
“Not at all,” I lied, forcing a grin.
“It’s all right,” Ainsley stage-whispered. “Just because we’re all accustomed to flight, and you’re merely a four-legged animal…”
“Now, now,” I chided, my lion letting out a low growl in the back of my head at the mocking tone of her voice. “I don’t recall anyone ever referring to a dragon as the king of the jungle. Or of anything.”
“Because we aren’t supposed to exist,” she reminded me with a mocking wink. “If the world knew what truly flew around right above their heads, they’d drop to their knees and worship us the way the ancients worshipped the sun as a deity.”
I burst out laughing in spite of myself, and in spite of the fact that she was having a bit of fun with me. “Humanity would return to the Dark Ages?”
“Darker than that,” she smiled.
“I suppose it’s for the best that your sort are considered nothing but a myth. I happen to have formed quite an attachment to the internet.”
“A good point.”
“And if it weren’t for the Wright brothers and all that came after, we wouldn’t be on our way to Scotland.”
Her smile faded a bit. “That’s also true.”
I told myself it was wrong to think back on the sight of her emerging from the water the day before, all glistening and sexy. Just as it was wrong to wonder to myself what her body would feel like beneath my hands. I’d sported wood so hard it pained me, but the water had mercifully concealed my interest.
There was no water on this jet. Nothing to hide the turn my thoughts had taken. What would she think if she knew how she’d haunted me throughout the rest of the day, not to mention my dreams?
It had been far too long since I’d had a woman. Perhaps Mary had a point when she’d referred to my monastic lifestyle. I had pared things down beautifully. To the point where I owned nearly nothing and cared for no one.
That was fine with me.
Except when a beautiful woman in see-through underwear emerged from the sea and wrung out her waist-length golden red hair, nearly wine-red thanks to the water in it. Except when her skin glistened and gleamed, the droplets of water on her arms reminding me of diamonds in the sun.
When something like that happened, even the strongest man would have to break down and admit there was something to be said for the company of a woman. Even if that sort of company sometimes led to complications.
She was talking.
Damn it, I’d stopped paying attention, too focused on her lips.
“…only my second time on a plane, after all. And I don’t remember much of the first time.”
She had grown tense. It was her turn to dig her fingers into a part of her body, in her case, it was her arm she gripped with the opposite hand.
“You’re adjusting well,” I pointed out in an attempt to ease her nerves.
“Better than you,” she chuckled, her voice a little shaky.
I wouldn’t have allowed anyone else in the world but her to make a joke like that at my expense. Why was it easy for me to let it roll off my back, so long as she delivered it with that smile?
“A fair point,” I whispered, leaning a little closer. “We’ll keep it between us.”
“Your secret’s safe.” She turned away abruptly, suddenly interested in the magazine which rested on her lap.
Just as well. She seemed to have a lot on her mind, and I was in no position to ask what bothered her or whether there was anything I could do about it.
Something told me there was nothing to be done, at any rate.
I looked around, my gaze touching the backs of many heads in front of me. They talked amongst themselves, their voices full of life and anticipation of what awaited them. Thrilled half to death to be returning to the only home they’d ever known.
What was wrong with Ainsley? She was the only one of them, the only one, who didn’t look or sound elated to be on her way.
There was something different about her. Was that why my eyes had always sought her out, even prior to our brief meeting on the beach? Because she wasn’t like the others. The woman could talk the hind end off of a horse, but the bright gaiety in her voice was never present in her eyes. They were always haunted.
I was making things up, and I chided myself for behaving like an old woman. First, acting nervous and shaky all because of a simple flight, then imagining all number of things about a person I didn’t know.
I turned my thoughts to what Dallas, Owen, and Tamhas had told me of the security they wished to put in place in the wake of the kidnapping. It had been more than just a kidnapping, of course.
Many of their clan had been murdered, as well, their bodies destroyed before those who’d survived were taken to the helicopters which had then taken them to a plane. They’d all been heavily sedated at the time—how much sedative it took to overpower a group of two-dozen full-grown dragon shifters, I had no idea. After all, we weren’t like humans. Our makeup was different.
Alan was the one who’d ordered heightened security around the cave and the woods which surrounded it, and it was my job to assist with some of the finer points. I might not have known the first thing about Scotland or even dragons, but I knew security.
He sat at the front of the cabin, occasionally turning in his seat to ask a question or, more frequently, to answer one. He’d taken over clan leadership after the late leader, who I understood was Gate’s father, was killed during the process of the clan’s kidnapping.
He seemed like a good man. One who took very seriously the weight on his shoulders.
It was unlikely he had the time to notice how unhappy his twin sister seemed.
Someone had to care about her, keep an eye on her. Make certain she did nothing to hurt herself or put herself in danger.
4
Ainsley
I can’t wait to get back to where things make sense.” Leslie nearly glowed, she was so pleased.
I could all but feel the excitement coming from her in waves so strong they nearly knocked me over. Or so I told myself. I’d been known to give in to flights of fancy, of course, so I took even my own opinion with a grain of salt.
“What’s so sensical about home?” I asked, leaning back in the seat with my head turned in her direction.
Oh, I was tired. So very tired. It seemed a monumental struggle to even keep my eyes open. Yet I knew if I tried to sleep, if I rested my weary bones in a bed or even lowered the seat back a bit and slid a mask over my eyes, sleep would evade me as surely as night fled from day.
“You’re crazy,” she laughed, waving a dismissive hand. “You miss it as much as I do.”
That I did. I missed the way it was before, however. Before we’d been attacked and sedated and spirited away. Before they had done things to us.
We never spoke of it, Leslie and I, and I didn’t know that we ever would. Weeks had already passed since our liberation, and not a word had been spoken of what was done to us while we were in our separate cells.
Was she waiting for me to start the conversation? Or was I waiting for her?
Did she even have anything to share with me? What if nothing had happened? What if she hadn’t been changed at all and it was only me? I wished I was brave enough to ask.
Asking would lead to questions. Why did I want to know? What had been done to me?
I couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t tell any of them. And I’d known them my entire life—our existences were the same, or as good as. I’d never been truly alone. There had always been someone to talk to, no matter the subject.
After all that time, I’d finally found something I couldn’t share. The knowledge of it weighed heavy on my heart.
“I do miss it,” I admitted, smiling softly as I remembered. “The mists in the valley, before dawn. The way the sunlight paints the land as the morning begins, inch by inch, and the light spreads and flows like water over the trees. And Dunsapie. I miss it, too.”