K A Knight - [Her Monsters 01] - Rage Page 9

A noise outside the curtain has me scrambling from his lap as we both get dressed. I just manage to get the top of my dress over my head before the curtain is pulled back, revealing a shocked shopper.

  "Sorry!" she sputters as she shuts it again, but I hear her retreat, no doubt to go tell a store assistant.

  "We need to go," I murmur, turning to him and dropping a kiss on his lips as I pull my phone from my pocket. "Fuck, I've got somewhere to be and I need to go alone. Can we meet later, and then you can tell me?" I inquire and he nods, as his hands come up and frame my face.

  "Later, Little Monster, meet me in the park. Try not to leave any bodies behind this time," he jokes, and I kiss him again before grabbing my bag and running from the changing room. I need to get to that meeting. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

  The hushed tones of the pilot and the air hostess have me cracking open my eyes, and leaning out into the aisle to watch them. They are gesturing back and forth and I roll my eyes, do they really not realise I can hear them? Humans.

  "What's wrong?" I shout and they all jump, looking guiltily between themselves then back to me. They nod, and the man from before stands and comes towards me with a nervous look on his face and his hands twisting together before him.

  "Sir, there has been an attack on master Tireno," he rushes out, his eyes darting to mine for a split second before he looks down at the floor again.

  Gritting my teeth, I lean forward. "By who?" I demand, bristling.

  "Er, I'm not sure, but they’re asking to speak to you," he says nervously, and I stand in a rush, which makes him squeal as he falls back. Eyeing him as I push past him, I move into the cockpit where the pilots await. The one on the left holds out a tiny headset to me, but before I can grab it he opens his mouth, and comments, "They have my friends, just a warning." I narrow my eyes as I sniff the air. He definitely isn't supernatural, but I can smell bloodsucker on him, probably a lifelong feeder. A pet, but he clearly cares about Mike so I nod and grab the delicate piece of technology and hold it to my head. He flicks a button and nods at me.

  "Speak," I growl down the line.

  "We have your friends, Beast of Cornacadia, did you really think you could ever escape us. That you could run from us?" The woman laughs down the phone and her sultry voice is soaked in magic, but it does nothing to me. "They will pay for helping you," she finishes.

  "I’m not running, but you should be," I bark, before nodding at the pilot. He cuts off the communication, and his face is pale but his eyes are hard.

  "Take me to them," I order, before turning around and returning to my seat. It seems like the witches have found Mike. I might not consider him a friend, but he has helped me, and I can't let him and his outcasts be butchered for my escape. It looks like I will have a little detour on the way.

  Grabbing my swords, I whisper the words of rites to them, and they glow golden, the glyphs lighting up and seeking the blood of enemies who dare to hurt me and mine.

  Soon, I whisper to them, leaning back in my seat as the plane banks to the side.

  Time for a witch hunt, and I won’t be stopping until they are all dead.

  Soaring through the air, I fly high enough to avoid detection on the ground and any restricted air space. With only a basic location to go on, and being on the opposite side of the world, it's taking longer than I would like to find her.

  I’m tiring again. I have flown all day and partway into the night. I’m hoping to reach an old house of mine and regroup there for a day or two. I need to get some supplies and I’m thinking now that I am above the right country, it might be easier to drive than fly, even if I hate the idea of being cooped up in a metal tin can for so long.

  I fly for a few more hours before I use my last spurt of energy to cover the distance when I spot the landmarks I am searching for. With a relieved snort, I descend through the clouds and swoop down across the land, as the night shields me from prying eyes. The house is built into the side of a mountain, typical, I know, but us dragons like to be high up and it means I can see any enemies coming. It also means humans are less likely to get curious or step onto my property.

  I did put some human staff in place to maintain the home and my finances before I retreated from the world, so I hope they have passed it on through the generations like requested. Of course, they are paid handsomely for this.

  Circling the mountain, I flap my wings to slow myself down as I reach the landing spot built into the side of my house. I set down gently and let the change move through my body. When I'm human again, I stride towards the glass door that leads into the living room. It opens easily, always unlocked for me.

  When I get inside I don't flick on the lights out of habit, but I take in everything around me. Nothing has changed except that they had it updated, and they have obviously kept it clean. Nodding in approval, I walk towards the fire and quickly get it started knowing it is going to get cold soon and I would prefer to lay in front of it instead of in the master bedroom at the back.

  When the fire is roaring, I lean back onto my haunches and roll out my sore shoulders. A fur rug spreads out below the huge fireplace, which dominates this side of the room. A new wide and long leather sofa sits in the middle of the room, dividing it from the modern kitchen they obviously had installed. My bookshelves still run on the wall—leading to the glass door and garden—filled with limited editions, first editions, and so much more precious texts. Standing once more, I roam around my house, checking it over.

  They upgraded my bed as well, and the new one is big enough to fit a dragon. The walk-in closet is fully stocked and the ensuite has been updated too, with a large jacuzzi tub and rainforest shower.

  They left my favourite part of my house untouched, though, and for that I am grateful. The pool, which is attached to my bedroom through a dipping point, overlooks the mountain with a glass bottom to see it all. It was my sanctuary for a long time, surveying the world, but even then I grew tired of that, but with my mate’s touch running through me I can appreciate the beauty once again. I might even bring her here, show her my home and solace. I can just imagine her blonde hair laid over the edge of the pool as she looks down on the world below.

  Stripping off, I slip into the cool water and wade in until I can lean against the edge and watch the world. I don't know how long I lay there, content to let the water soothe my muscles, but when I spot headlights cutting through the dirt road that leads to my home, I narrow my eyes as my dragon roars to the forefront of my mind. Jumping from the water, I get dressed quickly. No one should be here.

  It could be the humans I entrusted to look after this place, but logically I know they wouldn't come so late in the night. That only leaves two set of people, neither are friendly.

  Dragons—searching for me after feeling me awaken—to either kill me or bring me back to the throne.

  Or worse yet, human hunters. I don't know how they would have found me and so quickly, unless they were monitoring the house, which means the location is compromised.

  None of it matters though. Whoever it is will die for stepping foot on my soil. It seems there will be no rest for me tonight.

  No, tonight I teach them why everyone fears the dragon.

  I let out a roar that shakes the very mountain I’m on in warning, as I grab some weapons from my stash. I won't change unless I need to.

  Moving back to the living room, I stand by the fire with an axe held in each hand, waiting for them.

  I hear more than one car stop and boots crunching as they get out, their hushed whispers loud in the silence as an adrenaline filled smile curves my face. Maybe this is a good thing and I can practice my fighting. I don't want to be rusty when meeting my mate after all.

  The door blows off its hinges as men and women in black, strapped with every type of gun and weapon available, stream through the door and into my home.

  "You fucked with the wrong dragon!" I laugh as I raise my axes and jump into their masses, their yells following after me.

 
Leaving the department store, I head to a café and use their bathroom to quickly change into the new black dress and heels I just bought.

  The silky black material hugs my curves and is skin-tight, ending at mid-thigh. The spaghetti straps cross in the back, showing off my pale skin. The five inch golden heels glitter in the light. I fell in love with them instantly, plus I figured worse comes to worst, I can always stab someone with them.

  I also made sure to change the time and date of the meeting for Tim. So he thinks it's tomorrow instead. It will give me some time to snoop on the man he was meeting and see what sort of trouble I can get him into.

  Stuffing my other clothes into my shopping bags, I unlock the door to see a granny waiting outside giving me a dirty look, and she eyes my dress with disgust. Snobby old bastard. Why do old people always think they can get away with being bitchy? I nearly died too, doesn't make me a cunt.

  "Don't stress, saggy tits. I'm sure you can still piss and hold your nose in the air at the same time." I salute her when her mouth drops open and her face changes to a funny red and purple. Before she can get whatever insult that’s floating around in her head out, I walk past humming as I make my way through the coffee shop.

  "Toilets are for customers, not working girls giving their hooch a clean!" she yells after me, and the few tables that are full gape at me.

  Did this old bitch just call me a prostitute? Motherfucker, just because her vagina claps dust when it opens doesn't mean she can be a bitch.

  Turning back to face her, I wink at her instead. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to call an ambulance just in case the next time your husband calls me."

  She sputters as I laugh and leave the shop. Still grinning, way too happy with myself, I hail a taxi and slip inside the back seat, the leather crinkling under my bare legs.

  "Downtown, 45th and West. Armios Restaurant please," I say politely, fluttering my lashes at the woman driver.

  The woman smiles at me in mirror. "You got it." As she pulls away from the curb I relax back into my seat and watch as the city starts to come alive.

  I always loved it here. After growing up in a small town, I always wanted to run away to the city and I guess I did. I love the way it lights up during the day, with smells and sounds, and so many different cultures and places to explore, but at night it really comes alive. Music pours from bars in the district, delicious food smells waft through the air from all the restaurants, and the streets are so busy you can hardly move.

  I guess a monster does always love the night.

  The restaurant they are holding the meeting at is posh, which I should have guessed. When I step inside I’m instantly handed a glass of wine and asked for my reservation. When I tell them I’m here for a meeting being held in the Rower Suite, which I gleaned from the paperwork in Tim’s place, the man’s smile inches up a notch and they become extra nice.

  I’m led through the crowded and candle lit restaurant to a corridor at the back. He holds open the door and as I slip through them, I’m guided all the way to the end where a gold-plated door proudly declares the room 'Rower Suite' in fancy script.

  He knocks on the door before stepping back. "Have a good evening miss, and do not hesitate to call for one of us if you need anything." He bows my way before he turns and leaves me waiting in the corridor.

  The door opens a few seconds later just when I was about to kick the fucker down. I’m not exactly a patient person. The guy who opens it is clearly security of some kind. In a black suit with a gun bulging at his hip, he screams protection. His boring brown eyes narrow on me as he takes me in from head to sparkling, golden toe.

  "We didn't order a stripper," he grumbles and goes to shut the door.

  This bitch. What the hell is it about this dress that makes people think I fuck or strip for money? I look down at it in disgust. "As if you could afford me," I taunt, before kicking my new shoe forward and holding the door open even as he tries to shut it on me.

  "Listen up airhead, I’m here for the meeting. Now let me in to see Marco or I’ll take these stripper shoes and shove them so far up your ass, you’ll be spitting out golden sparkles like some kind of fucked up unicorn. Deal?" I order.

  He pales but refuses to open the door, his eyes darting around as if not sure what to do.

  "Let her in," comes a heavy accented voice from inside the room.

  I lean forward and pat the man’s chest. "You heard him, let me in," I purr.

  He nods, before stepping back and swinging the door open. I pat his chest again on the way in. "Good boy, heel."

  His eyes narrow on me in anger and his hand drops to his gun.

  "Do it, I dare you," I jeer.

  "Red, that's enough," the accented voice orders again, and only when Red drops his hand from his gun do I look at the rest of the room, searching out the man who spoke. He must be Marco.

  The room is dark compared to rest of the restaurant. Two large candelabras with flickering flames light it, and there is some dimmed lighting spread throughout. A large, white-clothed table sits in the middle of the room, with eight dark cherry chairs circling it. Only one is taken. My heels sink into the deep red carpet as the flames reflect off the wooden paneled walls. He must see me staring because he flickers a look at them.

  "Sound proofed," he replies, and I nod before taking him in. He isn't what I expected, that’s for sure. Even from his voice.

  He's young, probably around my age. Whiskey coloured eyes meet mine with interest. He's handsome as hell. Pitch-black stubble covers his chin and jaw, highlighting his high cheekbones. Thick black eyebrows are arched my way as he sips on a tumbler of some kind. His short, black hair is wavy and styled to perfection, and from what I can see of his outfit, it looks to be a hand-tailored, dark grey suit.

  No, definitely not what I was expecting, but even as I can admit that he’s attractive, he doesn't come close to my horned god in his ripped jeans and bare feet.

  "Marco, I presume?" I ask, and he nods as he takes me in like I did him.

  "Please, take a seat. May I ask who I have the pleasure of dining with?" he inquires.

  I pull out the seat opposite him and slide into it. "Dawn," I reply.

  His eyebrow flies up and drops his glass to the table, watching me like I’m fascinating.

  "Dawn, what can I do for you? You clearly know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you, something we must rectify." His words are teasing, but I see the hardness in his gaze. He is a powerful man, he relies on knowledge, and right now he doesn't appreciate being in the dark. It makes him weak.

  "You know my ex-husband. In fact he was supposed to meet you tonight. I, however might have accidentally changed the appointment in his phone. Silly me," I murmur the last and he grins.

  "I wasn't aware Timmy boy was married." He leans back, looking at me in a new light.

  "It was a...fast marriage, if you will," I reply as a glass of wine is dropped in front of me. I nod at the waiter and wait for him to the leave the room before relaxing back with the glass my hand. "But it did benefit me now, I guess."

  "And how is that?" he presses. I can feel him starting to get annoyed with my games.

  "Because it offered me information. That’s what you thrive on, is it not? It seems little old Tim had some greedy hands and I have the proof."

  I let that absorb in as I take a sip of the fruity and expensive wine.

  "You can prove that the accountant is stealing from us?" he asks, leaning forward with a gleam in his eye. This isn’t new information for him, that's for sure.

  "Yes, but I have conditions," I state, sitting forward and matching his posture.

  "Name them," he orders.

  "I get to kill the bastard, he’s mine. You can do whatever you like to his body afterward and the money, I want none of it. I'll even give you the guys who helped him."

  "All you want is him? Why?" he questions curiously.

  "I'm going to make him suffer and then I’m going to kill him," I answer with a flirty gr
in, sipping the wine again.

  He laughs, sitting back. "A woman after my own heart, but you see, I'm afraid I can't let you do that. He helps me, brings me the money while he gets a cut. So as you can understand, I wouldn't be okay with you killing my monkey."

  "You're a silent partner," I murmur, dropping the glass to the table as a numb feeling starts to spread through my body.

  "Yes. I’ve been stealing from Valkov for years. I was the one who convinced the new accountant, your husband, to help me. He really is very easy to manipulate. So, that leaves me with you. You know too much, so you’re a complication. What to do?" He taps his chin in thought as I gasp.

  My tongue has gone numb and it feels like I can't swallow. My head starts to spin. "You drugged me?" I gasp.

  "'Fraid so. Something you should learn about our business, Dawn. Don't trust anyone." He grins, tipping his glass at me.

  I’m pissed as hell and I can’t even speak anymore, trapped in my own body. The bastard drugged me. I can't wait to fucking kill him. It's my last thought before I tumble from the chair and everything goes black.

  Something is wrong.

  The sun set two hours ago and there is still no sign of my little monster. Pacing in the darkness in front of the fountain at the park, I look at the moon for the hundredth time that hour, praying it gives me strength. When I find her, I am going to smack her arse raw, and if anyone has touched her, I am going to rip them limb from limb and offer their souls to her.

  The jittery feeling coursing through my blood doesn't go away. In fact, it is getting worse. I can barely feel her, the connection is dimmed. My body is fighting me, wanting to change and tear through the city until I find her, but I have to be smart about this. I can't rely on our connection to get me to her. Instead, I will have to retrace her footsteps, because nothing hides from me in the dark.

  Especially not my mate.

  I wake up slowly and my head hurts, but the rest of my body feels okay. I check all my limbs to make sure no one has cut any off. Hey, I’ve watched CSI, people do weird things. Opening my eyes sluggishly, I’m greeted with nothing but darkness. I raise my hand and feel along my head, until I notice a large lump on my skull, and it’s on the same side I fell out of the chair. The bastards didn't even catch me.