Never Deal with Dragons (3 page)

Shocked, my gaze flew to the man’s face. It was a moment before I could gather my wits enough to accept his outstretched hand. “Mr. Green. It’s a great pleasure. Truly.”

Richard Green was somewhat of a celebrity in the halls of DRACIM. The son of DRACIM’s founder, Richard had entered the DRACIM ranks twenty years ago at the age of fifteen, and promptly moved to head Reparations, a newly created department in charge of managing human and dragon civil suits—the one in which I now worked. During his time there, he created an entire written language for dragonspeak—while simultaneously juggling an astonishing caseload single-handedly. He’d been the role model for my career since day one. Everyone adored him, humans and dragons alike.

I could see why. Mindless of my current appearance, not to mention smell, Richard treated me like royalty. He took my hand and touched my fingers lightly to his lips. Deep blue eyes twinkled with humor. “Trian, you didn’t mention Miss Banks was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. I find myself wishing I still worked here at DRACIM, if only for the company.”

Trian’s amber eyes flashed gold, but he only smiled faintly. “I’m sure that could be arranged. Just say the word, and I can make it happen.”

Richard’s lips quirked slightly, but he didn’t reply to Trian’s dig.

Because it annoyed Trian, I grinned. “Mr. Green, I assure you, the instant you decide to come back to DRACIM, we’ll be here waiting with open arms.”

Richard gave my fingers a small squeeze before letting me go. “Tempting. Very tempting.” His gaze ran over my body appreciably, but the twinkle in his eyes told me it was all for Trian’s benefit. Too bad for me. He was an incredibly handsome man.

In all honesty, DRACIM had nothing to offer Richard better than the position he already held. Eight years after joining DRACIM, Richard had accepted a request from Lord Relobu to oversee the dragon lord’s entire human workforce. Over three-hundred thousand people. It was mind boggling.

Richard Green was likely the most influential human in North America. Not bad for a guy still in his thirties.

I started to speak, to offer Mr. Green refreshments or a quiet office to wait until I could send somebody for Emory—my boss would kill me if I didn’t introduce him—but Trian interrupted by handing me a business card.

“Isiwyth is why we’re here. Lord Relobu sent us to make sure the farmer’s complaints were settled to everyone’s satisfaction, and that his niece is in good health.”

I stared at the card.
Director of Security
,
Relobu Holdings
was emblazoned on the surface, along with Trian’s name and contact information. I looked up at my ex-boyfriend.

Today wasn’t a normal Monday anymore.

Trian worked for Lord Relobu? For how long?

Trian answered the question before I had to ask. “I’ve worked for him the past three years. And known him for twelve. He adopted me.”

Twelve years? He was only twenty-eight when we were dating, so he’d been with a dragon lord since he was a teenager? How did I not know this?

Trian had always avoided talking about his childhood, but I’d simply assumed the reason was because it brought back unhappy memories. He’d once told me his parents were dead—and that only after I’d asked him directly. He’d never volunteered the information, and I’d been more than happy to coast along in clueless bliss. I guess this explained why he hung around a lot of dragons.

“And your freelancing work?”

“There was never any freelance work.”

If Trian had worked for Lord Relobu for three years that meant my files were stolen while he was a Relobu employee.

“Impossible.” Relobu had no reason to steal. And I couldn’t have been stupid enough not to realize who my boyfriend had been working for. Could I?

Trian raised an eyebrow at my exclamation, his eyes sparkling. Those eyes used to make me melt inside. Now his laughter made me angry. Probably because I’d finally figured out we weren’t laughing together. Instead, he’d been laughing at me the entire time. He’d been working for the dragon lord when he’d stolen those papers. Our entire relationship had been one big joke.

I shrugged off my hurt feelings. I had a very hungry dragon waiting for me outside, and damned if I’d let Trian screw up the rest of my day.

“I don’t have time for this.” I leaned around Trian to catch Richard’s attention. “Mr. Green, could you excuse me for just a moment? My boss is just outside. If you can give me five minutes, I’ll make sure he speaks with you about the details of Mrs. Armatoth’s settlement agreement. Let me find someone to show you to our waiting area.” I absently wondered whether the smell of dragon vomit had been handled by the cleanup crew, or whether I needed to park them in a different department.

I looked around, hoping to catch another of Emory’s employees and see if he or she could find a comfortable place for Trian and Richard to relax while they waited. Trian must have correctly determined my intent, because he cupped a hand on my elbow. “We’d like to come with you, if that’s okay.” His words weren’t a question.

I pulled my arm from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

His eyes flashed momentarily with surprise. Then they narrowed—a sure sign I’d made him angry. But he didn’t shout. Trian rarely raised his voice. So I wasn’t surprised when he leaned in until his lips were a hair’s breadth from my ear and whispered softly. “Oh, Myrna, it wasn’t so long ago that you were singing a completely different tune.”

I stiffened, and unable to trust myself not to say something that would humiliate me in front of my coworkers, I stalked to the door.

Isiwyth had already left the building. I had a boss, a hungry dragon and her mate waiting for me outside and an irritating ex-boyfriend within. I chose the dragons.

As a former employee, Richard knew the place. I was sure he could amuse himself—and Trian—for a few minutes alone. And I could only hope he could restrain Trian’s sticky fingers long enough for me to get the dragons fed and happy and on their way out the door before the bastard tried to steal something else.

Today I was almost glad my boss was power hungry. He’d jump at the chance for a meeting with Mr. Green. I’d let Emory have that meeting, and have a great excuse for pawning off Trian in the process.

Still fuming over Trian’s taunt, I gave him a mental middle finger and left the two men standing in the hallway. Trian wanted to come with me? I could care less what Trian wanted.

I pulled off my rubber boots at the door—the squeak of vomit on tile was getting on my nerves—and started toward the corral in my bare feet. I’d been wearing panty hose when I started the day, but now the only parts left of my nylons dangled in shreds at my knees. I shielded my eyes against the too-hot sun and found my dragons.

Trian was forgotten. I took a deep breath and simply stared.

Isiwyth and her mate stood near a wooden corral, oblivious to the panicked squealing of the hogs inside as they jostled each other for a chance at safety. DRACIM’s hogs were all too familiar with what the presence of dragons meant for their survival. But the hogs weren’t what held my attention. Isiwyth’s mate was gorgeous; his silver scales gleamed in the morning sun.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved dragons. I was born late enough to have no direct knowledge of their part in the war, and had lived near a shining example of their race throughout my formative years, so the old animosity and fear some people held for them didn’t register with me.

Before my parents’ death, I remember lying in my mom and dad’s field, watching the dragons fly overhead, imagining how it felt to fly so high above the earth—to see everything yet stand apart from the worst parts of it.

DRACIM’s therapist would tell you my interest stemmed from the need to escape. My mom died when I was only eight, and my dad spent the next four years slowly poisoning himself with grief and liquor, until finally he’d left me too. I’d spent my teenage years living with an old couple who worked on the estate of a wealthy dragon. The dragon had been nowhere near as influential as Lord Relobu, but he’d gone out of his way to provide me a comfortable home, and the means to further my education.

Maybe the therapist would be right, and my subconscious had cultivated an interest in dragons because I needed something to take my mind off of the harsh reality of my everyday life. I had to admit, the thought of flying away when things got tough was a brilliant idea. But I was also born a dragonspeaker. I’d like to think my love of dragons came from something purer than a need for escape.

I leaned against the far side of the corral and watched the awesome male dragon as he preened in the morning sunlight. I was hesitant to interrupt; Isiwyth was similarly affected by his appearance. It was almost fun to watch a three-ton dragon giggle like a schoolgirl as her mate, Doeho, whispered in her ear. He was a massive beast; one of the larger I’d seen. And it was obvious he doted on his bride. Making it seem effortless, Doeho hopped over the corral railing, grabbed one of the pigs with a quick snap of his jaw, and presented it to the blushing Isiwyth. She giggled again before taking his gift and shoving it down her gullet.

Were it not for the hunks of raw flesh, it was almost romantic. I glanced at my boss, wondering about his reaction to the scene. From the look on Emory’s face, he didn’t feel the same.

“You enjoy your work.” The voice came from beside me at the fence. I didn’t have to look. It was too much to think that Trian might have taken the hint and left me alone. He’d always been stubborn.

I didn’t bother to confirm Trian’s statement. I couldn’t trust myself to speak. I’d been hurt that he’d left me without a word, but I’d been furious that he’d stolen my files. My job was my life. And he’d put me perilously close to losing it.

I’d been a secretary for a full year now, and he was the cause. In all other areas, I was fully qualified for a management position, but I’d been passed over time and again. DRACIM thought I was careless, and I hated him for it.

We watched Richard approach the dragons and chat like they were old friends. I wondered how I could meet a man like Richard—well-dressed, well-educated, and with a healthy sense of humor—and feel absolutely nothing as we flirted, but be forced time and again to remind my beating heart to slow down any time Trian was nearby. I was a glutton for punishment.

“Tell me, why do you work for Emory Glask?”

Surprise had me turning to face him. Of all the questions I expected to hear, this hadn’t been the one. “What do you mean?”

“Mr. Glask has no love for dragons. Why do you work for him? Would you not be happier taking orders from someone who shares your enjoyment?”

Before my demotion, working in Emory’s department hadn’t been all that bad. His arbitrators were generally allowed more autonomy on their cases than most, simply because it was too much effort for Emory to micromanage. In fact, we’d only spoken once before I walked into his office to report the “loss” of DRACIM paperwork. And now, the simple fact was that no one else would take me. Most of the business we did required strict confidentiality clauses—in the Reparations department, if word got out about our “pay scale” for damages, we’d be buried in false claims. Dragons were generally well-off, and we did our best to get our human clients above market value on their losses. Sometimes that encouraged people to be less than honest about the source of their damages.

Most of the other DRACIM offices had similar reimbursement and pricing details. And because of those stolen files, the other department managers had decided I couldn’t be trusted with their data. But I refused to tell Trian just how badly he’d damaged my reputation. Pleasure or pity, I didn’t want anything from him.

“Emory has been with DRACIM since the beginning. I can learn a lot from him.”

Trian looked into my eyes with that unnerving gaze, but said nothing. He turned back to face the dragons. The couple had finished their meal—six pigs—and Richard was laughing while he slapped the silver dragon on the back before he and Emory started in our direction. The case was finished. It was time to get the paperwork signed and move on to my next appointment. I pulled a folder from my briefcase and found a pen.

“I’ll sign them.” Trian held out a hand.

“Excuse me?”

“I work for Lord Relobu. He would like to take care of this matter for Isiwyth. A belated wedding gift, if you will.”

“I understand that. But I believe DRACIM would prefer Richard’s signature. That way we can be certain the paperwork won’t be misplaced and any promises made will be honored.” It was as close as I could get to calling him a liar. I glared at Trian, daring him to push me.

He turned his face away, hiding his reaction. “Very well.”

Without another word, Trian turned and left the corral. I stared after him, irritated at my brief urge to apologize. I’d hurt his feelings.

Well, it served him right. He’d hurt me far worse than an insult.

I forced Trian from my mind and headed toward Emory and Mr. Green. My professional smile was back in place by the time I rounded the corral and handed the folder to Richard. He scanned it briefly before pulling a pen from the pocket of his blazer and scrawling his name along the bottom.

I took the paperwork and shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Green. There will be a small addendum for the plaque,” I avoided Emory’s eyes for fear he’d see my annoyance at the need, “just to relieve Mrs. Armatoth of any claims should DRACIM run into any legal issues. I should be able to have it drafted within the hour. Could I offer you some refreshments before you take your leave?”

Richard grinned, his teeth very nearly glittering in the bright sunlight. “I think I’ll pass on the refreshments. It’s best I don’t eat here.” He glanced toward the dragon couple, and I winced. Of course he wouldn’t want to eat so near the corrals. Dragons are messy eaters, and there were unidentified...parts scattered near Isiwyth’s clawed toenails. I was an idiot.

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me for just one moment, I’ll find someone who can walk you through the wording of the addendum...”

“No need.” Richard once again took my hand. “We trust you. Just have a courier run it by my office.” He gave me another of his charming smiles and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “For the record, I always prefer the company of a beautiful woman to that of a department manager. We’ll be in touch.” He winked at me before turning back to Doeho.