Luck of the Dragon (Entangled Covet) (19 page)

After a few hours sleep, her mind was still fuzzy but clearer on her priorities. There was no way Alec-the-dragon was sane. No way could he mean to have a life with her, a human. She was just a passing frivolity, something for the Dragon King of Las Vegas to play with. She was a shiny new object for his vast collection.

But her heart hurt when she considered leaving Alec-the-man. Their physical connection was otherworldly, a transformation and melding of two people into one. She was as changed with him as the solder she used to form a jewel setting. The gold coil wasn’t much sitting on her shelf, but when she fashioned it around a priceless jewel, it was a foil and a protector. An object of beauty in its own right.

Lucy sighed heavily. Was she doing the right thing? She would yearn for Alec for the rest of her life. But the black dragon he had turned into in the gem exhibit was another story. No way was she, a human, going to make it with a bunch of dragons. Eventually, she would be their lunch, no matter what Alec said.

But she could save Joey with the sapphire. It would have to be enough.

Lucy eyed the painting. Alec had moved the right edge to open the vault. Her trained eye caught on the aged brushstrokes of the Renaissance-style painting and moved over the artist’s famous signature across the horse’s leather harness. A demure pink-clothed maiden picnicked to the side while St. George killed an ugly, undersized dragon at the point of his spear. The original was supposed to be in the National Archives, but she would bet her new cutting set that this
copy
was real—just another priceless
objet de art
in Alec’s possession.

The death of a dragon seemed an odd subject choice, given what she now knew about Alec and his people. On George’s boot garter, the single word “
Honi
” was scrolled, the beginning of the Latin motto for the chivalrous Order of the Garter:
disgraced is he who thinks evil of it…

She remembered from Art History class that the meaning of the “evil” was a matter of much scholarly debate. Some believed it referred to rude and unchivalrous actions toward a lady. Others argued that the evil was those who killed dragons or even the dragons themselves. One thing seemed certain though—at one time, there was an order of English knights ordained to slay dragons.

Lucy had always reasoned that the dragons they slew were figurative. Now, she had to wonder if the slayings, like the dragons themselves, were real. Did Alec and the dragons have human enemies? Was that why the other dragons were disdainful of her, a human being as his supposed mate?

Lucy stepped back from the lure of the puzzle. The scholarly questions were easier than her real-life problems. If she let herself, she knew she could find a computer and immerse herself for hours researching dragons and the archaic order of knights. Unfortunately, the mind-sucking task wouldn’t solve her troubles.

Resolve back in place, she tilted the painting to the right, as Alec had, and walked toward the opening vault staircase. The stone walls were rough and cool under her hands, and she felt like she was stepping back in time.

At the vault door, she replayed the sound of Alec’s code in her head:
La-la-la-la-la.

Five numbers.

Most security systems allowed three tries. If the alarm went off, she would just act confused by the pain pills, say she wanted to get her cutting set. It was a likely excuse. Plan in place, she traced the three-by-four columned keypad with her finger. The code replayed in her mind: La, low, high, higher, lower.

Most people chose one of the right-hand numbers for their first number, so nine, six, or three. But nine left no higher key sounds, and three left no lower sounds. The first number had to be a six. She studied the other numbers with steady-eyed concentration.

Six
-la-la-la-la
. Six, low, high, higher, lower.

In her mind, she worked out the sound intervals with the closest-spaced permutations. People, and apparently dragons, too, had lazy code-making habits.

Sweat pooled at her lower back, but she broke the code on her third try: Six, three, eight, nine, two. BINGO.

As the thousand-pound vault door disengaged and opened, the thrill of conquest swept through her in an undeniable jolt. She bit her lower lip to keep from fist pumping and shouting in victory.

Once inside, she stepped to the aged table, but her cutting set and the Padma Sapphire were nowhere in sight. A flat plaster wall with hallways on either side sat opposite the table.

She had been blindfolded, so she didn’t know which way Alec had gone to fetch the jewel. Sitting on the stool at the table, she closed her eyes and imagined the sounds of Alec’s feet walking across the floor.

To the right. He had gone to the right.

Suddenly, Lucy sizzled with energy. Hot and then cold flashes zinged up her arms. Her eyes popped open. What was that? She glanced around the vault room, her stomach twisted, but no one appeared.

Maybe Alec was right about the magic? Lucy closed her eyes again and reached out for the current of energy. Pictures of jewels flooded her mind: rubies, emeralds, and diamonds in every hue. Some she recognized as pieces from the exhibit.

They were here. All the jewels from the exhibit were here in the vault.

A treasure trove big enough to buy several kingdoms.

Holy Mary, Joseph, and Peter. Lucy was as certain as if she had actually seen them with her eyes. Standing on shaky legs, she lurched to the right-hand passage. The air around her seemed to chill.

Along the bright hallway, steel drawers in every size lined the wall. Lucy searched the small drawers for additional security devices, but saw none. Reaching forward, the pull of water tugged her hand, as if she was diving into a pool. The fluid embrace, wet and welcoming, flooded her from head to toe.

She staggered back, and immediately the sensation receded. She reached forward and slid the water-pulling drawer open with one finger. A square-cut green emerald, set into a crude gold necklace, lay on a white silk pillow.

Cool. Cool. Cool.

Lucy concentrated on the sizzling heat she remembered from the Padma sapphire. It was like the sand on a hot beach. She closed her eyes and reached toward the drawers. Her fingers moved as if honing in on a frequency. She opened the drawer where her hand stopped and saw the orange Padma sapphire, sitting on white silk.

“Yes.” She pulled out the sapphire and wrapped it in its pillow, before carefully putting it in her pants pocket.

What else was here? The temptation to explore was too great.

Lucy shut the empty drawer and reached for a bigger box. Her teeth started to chatter and cold shook her bones. In her mind, she saw a diamond tiara on top of a woman’s brunette head. The woman turned to the side, laughing. Lucy pulled out the drawer. It was the same diamond tiara she had just seen in her mind, with a few of the side combs broken.

Pulling the crown out, she put it on her head, then tugged her ponytail tight to make it secure. The woman appeared again in her mind’s eye, the tiara clutched in her hands this time. She was crying, shaking the crown at someone.

A crude guillotine stained with blood appeared. Vomit welled in Lucy’s throat, and she yanked the crown from her head, stuffed it back in the drawer, and slammed it closed. Her heart hammered as if she had been the one about to be beheaded.

Lucy leaned against the small, square, post office-styled drawers. Pictures whirled through her head like a broken kaleidoscope. Her skin prickled with painful, raw energy. Hot, then cold. Her mind was melting under the onslaught. Pushing away from the wall, she staggered into the front room to escape the sensory overload.

Alec had been right. She had to get out of there. Away from the jewels.

She closed the vault door and re-engaged the lock before racing up the stairs. At the top, her shoulder throbbed and her chest ached, but the jewels no longer tormented her. She took a moment to calm her breathing and compose her face. Now, she just needed to find Joey before Alec returned with his convincing eyes and hands.

Lucy opened the hall door. Lil straightened and lifted her eyebrows. “Looks like you’re feeling better?”

“You, too,” Lucy said, surprised her voice was steady. Indeed, the Viking didn’t seem any worse for her clash with the brown dragon. She was wearing a white tunic and pants, and her broadsword was strapped to her back with a leather harness.

“Did you need something?”

“Yes.” Lucy strode out into the hall and shut the door. “My brother is here with some friends. I want to visit him.” Con man rule three: Best to stick to the truth (mostly) when you were lying. Good ole Dad. His adages were the deception-wrapped gift that just kept on giving.

“Your brother?” Lil crossed her arms over her chest. “The Jer’ol did not say anything about your brother.”

“I’m not leaving the casino.” Lucy crossed her own arms over her chest, copying Lil’s pose. Another trick, relax people by mimicking their posture. “Go ahead, call him. He said I could go where I wanted. And I need to do some shopping for this ceremony thing.”

Lil looked suspicious. “You won’t find the right clothing for the ceremony in human shops.”

Oops. Back-pedal. “Oh right, I meant cosmetics and things for my hair.” Lucy hurried down the hall as if it was all settled. Con man rule number four: Act confident.

Lil walked behind her, then passed her to get on the elevator first. “What floor?”

“Five.” Lucy couldn’t help the smile the stretched her face.

At suite 504, Lucy knocked with her familiar rap to let Joey know it was her.
Dat-da-da-da-da-Dat-Dat.

Joey yanked the door wide. “Luce—” He stopped short when he saw Lil. “Who’s this?”

“Alec’s sec-ur-ity,” She drew out the word.

Joey immediately leaned on the door and affected a nonchalant air. “So nice to meet you,” he said to Lil, with a charm that had worked on legions of women. “Would you like to come in? Room service hasn’t been here yet, but you’re welcome…”

“No, no,” Lucy knew the code. “No room service” meant there were things Lil shouldn’t see in the room. “I’m sure Lil isn’t interested in your dirty underwear.”

Lucy pushed herself into the room and locked the door before Lil could object.

Lil banged on the door. “I don’t like this, Lucy,” she shouted. “You’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming in.”

“No problem,” Lucy called back.

“What. In. The. Hell?” Joey whispered the words and threw his open hands at her. “You brought security to the command room? What’s the matter with you? Gino will kill you.”

The room was dark, the curtains closed, but she could see all the accoutrements of a robbery in progress. Computers, blueprints, and plastic-wrapped costumes. Several days’ worth of dirty room-service dishes piled in a corner. The tan janitor’s costume lay on the floor in a heap. The evidence of Joey’s illegal lifestyle made her suddenly feel like a defendant on trial.

Guilty as charged, she almost heard the gavel fall.

The Padma sapphire seemed to burn against her leg in accusation. This was wrong, all wrong. Suddenly, a future with dragons seemed more certain than a future with Joey. She sat hard on the couch and clasped her hands to halt their shaking.

All wrong. Very, very wrong.

Weariness pushed on her shoulders, making her sink farther into the droopy couch. She was tired. Tired of forming her choices around Joey’s wayward life. She’d fooled herself. He wouldn’t change, not even in Brazil.

And she felt physically ill when she considered leaving Alec. Alec who could help her understand her strange new magic. Alec who said he wanted a life with her. All right a dragon life, but at least it was a chosen life, and not one chasing Joey’s messed-up, zig-zagging, pathetic trail. She should stay with Alec, brave the dragon creatures, and let Joey go.

Alone.

“Joey, come here.” She patted the cushion next to her, but Joey slouched in the armchair across from her instead. “Gino is dead. You need to walk away from this. You don’t like Brazil, fine. Pick anywhere in the world, I’ll help you get there.”

“I just talked to Bruno, and Gino is not dead. We’re still a go for tonight.”

“Bruno’s wrong.” Lucy fought to keep her voice even. “Joey, I don’t have a lot of time. I saw Gino die, and I saw the exhibit destroyed.”

Joey shook his head in denial.

“What are you planning on robbing, charred curtains?” she asked.

“
You
are supposed to find out where they moved the jewels.” Joey leaned forward, his face red with indignation. “We’re waiting on
you
.
You
are the problem.”

“I am the problem?” Fury swelled up in Lucy’s chest and exploded into words. “I am not the problem.” Lucy jumped to her feet, straining to keep the volume of her voice under control so Lil wouldn’t hear. “YOU are the problem.”

Joey glared up at her with a mutinous look.

“When I called you, hurt and scared—” Lucy’s voice broke and she couldn’t continue. Instead, she picked up a pillow and threw it at Joey’s face.

Joey swatted away the pillow with a casual toss of his hand.

Lucy’s chest heaved with feelings too long suppressed. Spittle gathered on the sides of her mouth, and tears filled her eyes. She crossed her forearms arms around her stomach protectively and tried to get control of her tilting emotions.

“I got news for ya, little sis.” Joey crossed his ankle over his knee and jiggled his foot. “I have helped you out, not the other way around. Do you know how many people wanted to take you out when you turned your back on Dad’s connections? I stopped them. I put myself in your shoes, I paid your debt.”

Lucy searched his face for the telltale look to the right that meant he was lying. He stared straight at her, his eyes unwavering.

“All you care about is the next big score,” she whispered.

“Yeah, Luce, so what. It’s what I do.”

“But it’s not what I do!”

Joey shook his head in disgust. “Fine, you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it all myself.”

“I just want you to quit with the stealing and gambling.”