Chained: Reckless Desires (Dragon's Heart Book 1) (10 page)

“If you aren’t vampires, what are you? Angels? Mutants? Aliens?”

“You’ve been here weeks, isn’t it obvious. My father was not a subtle man,” Dorian said with great strain.

Bella could see him slipping. The honesty was taking its toll on him. She reached out and took his hand in hers. He was burning hot. “If you could do one thing tonight—if the world crumbles in the morning, what would you wish you had done?”

“Danced with you,” Dorian said without pause.

And then he pushed aside the picnic food and stepped onto the table and held his hand out for hers.

She couldn’t.

She’d trip and fall into the sea.

He’d turn and seize her roughly and dash her on the rocks.

Dorian would kiss her and die and leave her and shatter her heart into a thousand pieces.

So many things could go wrong.

But Bella took his hand, stepped up to his level, and threw her arms around his neck for one last dance before their world changed forever.

S
he should have kissed him
, Bella thought as she dressed for the day. The opportunity had been perfect. Wine, chocolate, a slow dance near the sea. But she’d been so worried about his darkness overtaking him that she’d played it safe, worried that any added stress would bring out the beast. But it hadn’t appeared. There’d been the signs she’d learned to recognize—the tremors, facial tics, the darkening of his eyes—but he’d kept it together for the entire drive back up the mountain.

The words he’d said to her had stayed with her all night. Upon parting he’d stroked her cheek with a finger and said, “It’s easier to be myself when I’m with you.”

She could still feel the feather-light touch of his feverishly hot hand, like he’d marked her forever.

Today was the big day. The prospective buyer was arriving and Bella took extra care to make herself appear professional. She missed her old closet of bespoke suits, but she made the best out of the eighties rainbow that had been left for her. At least the eighties were back in.

The client was due at ten sharp, so Bella went down to the kitchens to cadge some food from Chloe, but when she walked in, she could see that nothing was right. The air smelled of burned food and Chloe looked seriously pissed off.

“Hey girl, what’s wrong?” Bella asked, taking a seat at the large kitchen island in the middle of the room.

“The spirits are being dicks today. Something has them all spooked and they’re just like making a mess of everything.”

Across the room, a jar of cinnamon lifted itself into the air.

Bella saw it and froze. “Chloe?” she said. “There’s a jar. A flying jar.”

The jar hurtled through the air, right towards Chloe’s head. Bella saw it happening in slow motion and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was too far away and not dressed for kitchen sprinting. But at the very last second Chloe put her hand up and caught it. “Cinnamon?” she said. “We do not put cinnamon in scrambled eggs, dude.” She sighed and closed her eyes. Bella had a sense of the light growing dimmer, and of Chloe growing brighter, as if she was sucking the light in the room into herself.

She opened her eyes and in a loud clear voice said, “You all are on time out.” And whatever it was that she did, it worked. The bad feelings left. The room grew warmer and felt at peace again.

“Why are they freaked out?” Bella asked, surprised to find that while she wasn’t paying attention she had come to believe completely in Chloe’s stories. Spirits were real. Ghosts were real. Magic was real.

“I don’t know, Bells. I’ve been too busy trying to cook with them all screaming at me. It’s been one of those
too many cooks
situations all up in here.”

“Can you cook without their help?” Bella asked. Because I’m starving, she added silently.

Chloe made a
pffft
noise. “My sister is the best cook in Northern California. I’ve learned a bit from her, and paid attention to what the spookums have been telling me. It’s been kind of awesome, really. I’ve been blowing my boyfriend’s mind. More than usual, I mean.” Chloe grinned widely and tossed all of the burnt food into the trash. Then she quickly whipped up lemon-infused waffles that were the lightest, fluffiest things Bella had ever eaten, complete with a delicate maple mascarpone topping that was so delicious Bella wished she could marry it.

“This recipe is one hundred percent Alison Meadows, aka my sister. She uses freshly grated ginger, too, but that stuff tickles my nose.”

The two women sat and ate together quickly in comfortable silence. Occasionally the door would rattle or creak and Chloe would spin in her seat and shoot a threatening look in its direction and the noise would stop in an instant.

When they were done and both were dipping their fingers into the maple sauce and licking them clean, Chloe said, “If you need a place to stay tonight, or tomorrow, or anytime really, you can crash with me. We have an extra bedroom that my mom stays in when she visits. It wouldn’t be a permanent thing, but if you needed a week or two to sort your shit out, I can do that for you.”

Bella almost started crying. “Chloe, that’s amazing. I don’t know what to say.”

“Girl, keep it together. It’s gonna be a tough day.” Chloe sniffed, also almost crying. “Most people call me Spooky Chloe, y’know? They avoid me or make fun of me because of what I do. But you never have. Even when you didn’t believe me, you didn’t belittle me. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. If we were in San Francisco right now, I would hella get drunk with you and we could get matching ink somewhere private. But up here in Dragon’s Breath, we’ll have to make do with these rad waffles.”

Bella fought to keep it together. She couldn’t cry. She’d be a raccoon-eyed mess when the buyer showed up. “Dragon’s Breath? I thought it was Winter’s Breath?”

“What’s the difference?” Chloe asked.

Agatha ran into the room, her eyes wide with alarm. “There you are! They’ve been looking all over for you. The buyer is here—he arrived early. Very early. Go! Go! Upstairs with you!”

Bella jumped up from the table and hurried as best as she could in her borrowed eighties heels. They were half a size too big and sure to give her blisters by the time the day was through, but she couldn’t exactly show up to the meeting in Keds, could she?

She found Dorian in the foyer. His voice, calm and deep, echoed through the halls as he told the buyer about the home’s history. The buyer’s voice was sharper, with a touch of the south to it. Something about it sounded familiar. Was it someone famous?

Bella entered the foyer, coming through the nearly hidden door that led to the servants’ wing. Dorian was there, tall and handsome. Just seeing him made her body relax and go all melty at the joints. And talking to him was a man with slightly too long blond hair and a stubbled jaw. He wore a black suit, unfashionable for the season, with a blood red tie that hung loose around his neck. Bella stopped when she saw him.

It was him. Charles Edward Heath. The liar who’d burned down her life. He turned to regard her and then did a double take before smiling a toothy, hungry smile at her.

“Isabella Hart!” he gushed. “I’ve been looking for you.” He glided over to her and took her shoulders in his hands and then kissed her once on each cheek. Bella’s skin crawled. Her mind went nearly blank with the urge to run.

“You know each other?” Dorian said, agitation in his voice. He was a perceptive man. Surely he’d see how uncomfortable she was.

“We’re old friends,” Heath said, taking her arm in his. “And no offense to you, Mr. Winterborn, but I would prefer a tour from the lady.”

Bella gave Dorian a
please help me
look, but did he register it? His face was a mask of calm. “Very well,” Dorian said. “Let’s all tour together. Forgive me, please, if I add to her comments. She’s been here only a season.”

“So this is where you ended up,” Heath whispered. “You’ve done such a good job at hiding so far. But I’ve found you now.”

Bella ignored his comments and led the man through the house, doing her best to explain the architectural features, the priceless antiquities, the long and storied history, but it wasn’t her forté. Dorian stepped in to help at every turn, but Heath never looked at him as he spoke. His eyes were always on Bella.

She wished he’d look anywhere else.

When the tour moved outside, they saw her father kneeling on the side of the driveway. He was pruning rose bushes and studiously ignored them. “Your gardener does excellent work,” Heath said.

“He has a true talent,” Dorian said, loud enough for Franklin Hart to hear.

“If I purchase the estate, would the servants stay on? I expect it would provide a greater sense of continuity if they did. I might need that added to the contract. Not forever of course,” he laughed. “They aren’t slaves! But maybe for five years? Five years should do it. I’ve been involved in many business deals where we bought the assets of a company but didn’t retain the workers, and everything just fell apart. Brain drain, they call it. I’ve learned that to have a successful acquisition,” he said, eyeing Bella up and down nakedly, “you must keep the staff as well.”

“I think that would be up to each of the employees to decide on their own,” Dorian said.

“This point may not be negotiable,” Heath said with a sour frown.

Dorian gritted his teeth and said nothing. There were no other buyers, Bella knew. At least none on the horizon. If Heath didn’t buy the estate in one massive deal, then it would need to be split and parceled out, with the fees associated with selling the bits of lands and furniture and art and coins eating up much of the profit. He either sold to Heath and came out of the deal, maybe, with some money left over, or he dismantled his family’s legacy piece by piece and likely still failed to satisfy the debts.

That is, if the curse didn’t kill him first.

But Bella couldn’t work for Heath. That’d be impossible. She hadn’t told Dorian about what had happened. He’d asked once when they were alone together , but she’d evaded, afraid that the stress would make him flip out. Now she wished she’d told him.

“Let’s go back to the office,” Heath suggested. “We can see about amending the contract right now.”

They all walked back to the house. Bella spared one last glance for her father, who was looking at her now. His face was lined and deeply sad. He gave her a little wave and she waved back, which was the most they’d communicated in ages.

Dorian gestured and explained parts of the estate as they approached the main doors. Heath was fascinated by the massive dragon statue overhanging the front steps. “What do you call this? I’ve never seen its like.”

“I call it Father, mostly,” Dorian said.

“Father?” Heath didn’t understand.

Dorian stared at Bella, his eyes heavy with meaning. “This statue is his spitting image.”

Heath laughed. “When I buy this place, I’ll replace it with a statue of my dad.” He gestured expansively. “Just imagine it, a giant horse’s ass made of Italian marble greeting everyone who enters.”

“What are your plans for the estate?” Bella asked as they took the stairs.

“Corporate headquarters, I’m thinking. It’s sure big enough.” Heath pushed open the blackened doors as if he already owned the place. “I figure I can squeeze in two or three hundred employees here. We’ll develop the land farther down and put in some high-density housing, maybe with a view of the sea? The peons like that shit. We’ll build a gym and a movie theater and a laundry. We’ll sink a power plant in to take care of it all, maybe on the other side of the mountain from here,” Heath winked. “We’ll pave a road to the highway and have our own private off ramp. Our own city. That’s how they used to do it, y’know. The company owned the houses, the stores, and the workers. One big cozy family.”

The thought of Heath and his minions ripping the mountain apart and building some corrupt company town made Bella feel ill. Dorian, too, didn’t look good. He was flexing his hands rapidly and taking deep breaths. Did he have a choice? Was he condemned to sign it all over to Heath?

“I’d like Miss Hart here to stay on, I should say. I think her
assets
would make the transition much more enjoyable,” Heath said with a wink, nudging Dorian in the ribs with an elbow.

Bella felt a fury in her blood. But she tamped it down. No matter what the contract said, he couldn’t make her stay. What would he do? Sue her for all of the money she didn’t have?

“Ladies first,” Heath said, gesturing up the stairs.

Bella steeled herself and walked up the stairs. She could feel Heath’s eyes on her ass as she walked. Why had she chosen such a tight dress? Why weren’t women allowed to wear suits made of sharpened quills to keep men at bay?

“Are you hitting that?” Heath whispered to Dorian just loud enough so that Bella could overhear. Her ears burned with shame. “You must be dipping your wick in there. I can see how she looks at you. But you won’t mind if I get some, too? There’s something about sloppy seconds.”

Dorian said nothing, but Bella could sense the shift in the air and a smell like spices burning. They entered the office and Dorian remained calm, but Heath couldn’t stop talking. He’d worked himself up into a state of excitement.

“Though I’ve always thought that men should be honest with each other. So I have to say, you’re the one having my sloppy seconds,” Heath leered at Bella, enjoying the way the lie made her squirm. “We worked together, intimately, at Black, Cross and Landon. A girl like that, she isn’t the type to marry, you know? With a thick booty like that she’s good for only one thing.”

“Be quiet, you vile man,” Dorian said. His voice was deep and rough and unlike anything Bella had heard before. His voice resonated in her bones and made the chandelier shake. He was turned away from them both, examining the selling papers on the desk.

Heath laughed a caustic laugh. “You old money people kill me. You’re always so proper about everything, acting like you’re better than the rest of us just because you got a head start two hundred years ago, when we both know you do exactly the same fucked up shit as I do, you just whine about it afterwards.”

“You should leave now,” Dorian said. His voice was even deeper now and icy calm. It made Bella’s eyes ache when he spoke. And he seemed to be getting larger.

“I know all about your daddy, boy. I looked him up. I talked to people. There are people around here with long memories that know all about your daddy. He liked to beat on women, didn’t he? Did he beat on you? Is that why you’re such a pussy?” Heath was livid now, his face purple with rage.

Bella knew she should stop them, should intervene, but she didn’t know how to. Heath had no respect for her and any comment she made would only piss him off more, and Dorian was too far gone. The beast that she called Valdemar, his father’s son, was present now. Only instead of ranting and raving it was behaving oddly, staying still and calm, even as the temperature in the room crept upwards.

“I’ll tell you this, once you sign over the estate, as a sign of respect to your father who put all of this together, I’ll beat on her real good.” Heath sneered as he spoke. He was enjoying letting his mask fall away, believing that nothing and no one could touch him. He knew Dorian had no other buyers and the billionaire couldn’t resist rubbing his nose in it. They said he once shot a Senator’s ear off during a hunting trip, and the man apologized to Heath for being in the way of his shot.