Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) (17 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
WO

I
t wasn’t like she was
eager
to touch him, she argued with herself as she eased to a knee next to his right thigh, hyperaware of his cologne, his strength, his domineering demeanor. The way he tracked her with his eyes was nothing less than predatory, his lashes lowering when she crouched. She set her hands on his ankles over the pant legs, palms encountering the tough feel of snakeskin boots beneath. Her fingers felt around the lower, smaller pockets along his shin, until the top of the boot gave way to solid muscle. She remembered how strong his legs had been, trapping her thighs effortlessly to the bed.

Stop thinking about being in bed with him. He lied to you. Remember? You’re pissed off.
And she was. Angrier than she could believe. It was a potent mixture in that moment, being so damnably attracted to him while wanting to punch him right in the nose for his duplicity. He was making it difficult to concentrate on the problem at hand with the things he was saying, things she wasn’t sure she should believe. Cole was a smooth talker, an accomplished liar, and almost too adept at deception.
I’m doing this on your behalf, because I care, not because I still have an ulterior motive.
She didn’t know whether or not to believe him. She waffled back and forth between wanting to forgive and anger at his betrayal. Frisking him was a cursory act, done not because she thought she would find the dragon, but because she absolutely could not resist the challenge.

A bulge in the outer pocket on his thigh drew the attention of her questing fingers, and she eagerly examined the object through the material. It didn’t seem bulky enough, but these pants with their hidden layers could be deceiving.

Sure enough, she only made out the shape of a small handgun. The muscles of his thigh flexed when her fingers slipped off the gun to his legs. Instead of retreat, she inched her touches higher, inspecting the top pocket. She felt the shape of his phone and a clip of cash. Reaching down, he curled his fingers around hers and gave a light squeeze. Looking up his body, she met his eyes. Then she continued to frisk the other leg, thinking she imagined the low rumble that followed. Cole had a tendency to make the most appealing noises in the midst of pleasure.
Don’t think about it.
Beneath her questing fingers, the muscles of his thighs flexed and twitched. She found nothing in his pockets except mundane necessities: keys, coins, a wallet.

“Find what you were looking for?” he asked, sounding as if she’d searched more personal areas than his pockets.

Madalina didn’t mistake the innuendo. The moment heated to unbearable levels; she had all sorts of carnal ideas running through her head, ideas that had nothing to do with the search. Still crouched, she leaned her body back several inches and, once more, met his gaze. It would have been so easy to get lost in the highly sexual glance he was sending her. Instead of devolving into innuendo with him, she said, “No. But then, I didn’t really expect to.”

Rising to her feet, she took a much-needed step back, attempting to clear her head. The challenge had been a little more potent than she’d bargained for.

Just then, his phone rang. Cole held her gaze while he fished the cell phone out of his pocket. Madalina refused to be the one who looked away first.

“Yeah?” he said. His gaze dropped to her mouth, just for a moment.

She forced herself to concentrate on the here and now, not the memories from last night. It was harder than she thought it would be.

Cole frowned, losing the lustful expression he’d carried throughout the impromptu frisk. “Are you sure? All right. Thanks.”

“Was that them? Are you going to make the trade right now?” she asked, feeling like she had the right to know what was going on.

“No. Look—we’re not done here, Madalina. All right? I—”

“That’s not for you to decide.” She let him know before he got any further that
she
would be the one deciding when, and if, they would see each other after this.

He arched a brow and repeated, “We’re not done here. I’ll be back in an hour, maybe two. Then we’re going to sit down and really get into the semantics of it. You want to know about me? I’ll tell you.”

“I—” Madalina huffed, exasperated, when he walked to the door and exited without another word.

For the next hour, Madalina made repeated loops around the inside of Lianne’s house. Living room, kitchen, hallway, bedroom. She couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop thinking. Cole had laid it all on the line, held nothing back, and now that she wasn’t faced with his overwhelming presence, she considered the arguments in his favor. Knowing that he’d worked to secure her safety didn’t,
couldn’t
, completely erase his brazen move of taking the dragon without her consent. Admitting that he cared for her had taken her by surprise and, if she was totally honest with herself, had thrilled her. She’d known from the start that Cole wasn’t the type to commit, to get deep. In the beginning, she hadn’t cared, having come to the conclusion that if anything happened between them, it would be consensual fun and nothing more. A fling to end all flings, with no thoughts of a future or lingering attachments.

Yet he seemed determined to make her listen, to find a way to forgive him. She suspected that Cole hadn’t even taken this small a step with any other woman, which meant something. It meant trying, taking a chance, giving the undeniable attraction room to grow. He wouldn’t have come back at all, she thought, or bothered to explain. To lay himself bare. He could have simply sold the dragon to the collector and been on his way. Instead, his priority was her. To end the chases, the danger, once and for all.

Without warning, the lights went out. Pulled from her reverie, she glanced at the nearest lamp, expecting the lights to come right back on. The city had been dealing with the recent outage admirably, getting power to residents while attending to blinking stoplights at major intersections. Maybe there were still problems with the grid. Taking five steps to her right, she sidled up to the window and peered past the edge of the blinds.

Across the street, lights shone from within other houses, proving that not everyone was affected by the outage. In fact, she noted, Lianne’s house appeared to be the
only
one. Unless it was just the homes on this side of the street. Making her way carefully through the darkness, muttering under her breath about flashlights and candles, she came up to the kitchen table, where her cell phone was charging on Lianne’s charger. The phone had a flashlight function built-in, but she sought her contact list instead, intending to call the electric company and find out if there were spotty outages on this side of town.

A noise from the back of the house snapped her attention to the gloomy hallway. Frowning, she studied the shadows. Her fingers hovered over the glowing screen of the phone, as if some ancient wizard had brought the world to a halt, putting humans on pause.

This was a bad time to freeze.

The noise came again, louder this time. Madalina exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when she recognized the sound for what it was: a tree branch scraping the roof. She was jumpier than she realized. Cole had just assured her that the agents knew she didn’t have the dragon any longer, which should have diverted their attention accordingly.

Finding the right button, she made her call.

Less than four minutes later, she learned that all the power had been restored from the storm—barring a few spots in random neighborhoods, and she could bet that the workers would have her house up and running in no time.

Madalina pushed the phone into her front pocket and went to the kitchen, feeling her way along a counter with one hand. Somewhere Lianne had left an extra flashlight, just in case.

What she needed was wine. A great big glass of Burgundy. As her hand made contact with the flashlight, something slithered across her face, her mouth, damp and soft and sweetly pungent. Before she could react, her vision faded to black.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
HREE

D
id you get the photos?” Cole asked. He was on Interstate 10, headed back to Whittier from Santa Monica.

“Yes. I’m sending the pictures on to the agents. I didn’t expect them to ask for proof that we’ve got the dragon, and they wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Thaddeus said.

“I had to drive all the way back to Santa Monica, to the shop where the replica is being made, just to take the shots.”

“You have a real camera, not just a camera phone, which takes better photos. Besides, I wanted you to meet up with your brother again and let him fill you in on the latest information. That’s what you get for ignoring my texts. You weren’t that far from Santa Monica, anyway,” Thaddeus said.

“I was busy having an important conversation.” Cole hadn’t wanted to interrupt his talk with Madalina, except the repeated messages and phone call had finally forced him to answer. The news Brandon had to deliver only amounted to updates—important, but not critical. After a moment, he added, “I should have known you’d send Brandon. I told you not to.”

“This frees you up to do what you need to do, instead of babysitting the dragon while a duplicate is made. Brandon can guard it for now, and he can be there for the exchange at the festival if you need him to. I highly suggest you take him with you.”

“I know what you think, Thaddeus. Let me know if something else comes up before the meeting at the fair.” Cole signed off and set the phone in a holder on the dashboard. Earlier in the day, he’d driven the dragon to the contact in Santa Monica to have a replica made, where he’d also met up with his brother Brandon. Leaving Brandon behind to guard the relic, Cole had gone to the fairgrounds—which were already being assembled and set up—to scout the area near the funhouse. He wanted to know every entrance and exit and other avenues in and out of the area. It paid to know how to escape if he needed to.

Then had come the conversation with Madalina, which had gone pretty much like he’d expected. She was angry, had a right to be angry, but he wasn’t done convincing her that he’d taken the dragon for the right reasons. It might take one more conversation, or a week’s worth, or maybe a month’s worth.

It was worth it.
She
was worth it. He’d always felt like he would be losing something precious if he didn’t at least have a chance with her.

That was all he wanted, a chance.

Ahead, a sea of brightly glowing taillights alerted him to trouble. Cursing under his breath, he slowed the Jaguar to a crawl and flipped on the radio, only to hear what he didn’t want to hear: five-car pileup, expect up to an hour’s delay.

He wasn’t anywhere near an exit, either, to make use of backstreets and alternate routes.

Dialing Thaddeus’s number, he waited through two and a half rings before his brother picked up.

“What did you forget?” Thaddeus asked.

“I need you to look up Madalina’s cell phone number.”

“You still don’t have it?”

“We’ve been a little preoccupied. I didn’t think to ask her while we were running for our lives.” Cole tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, watching the flow of vehicular traffic creep along the freeway. He heard Thaddeus tapping keys on a laptop, accessing the needed details. Minutes later Thaddeus read him the number. Cole memorized the digits, hung up with his brother, and dialed Madalina’s phone.

It rang four times, then went to voice mail.

“I wanted to let you know that I’m on my way back. Traffic is snarled as far as the eye can see, so it might be another half hour before I hit Whittier.” He ended the call and pulled up a street map, looking for the closest exit.

If he could get off the freeway, maybe he could make better time.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
OUR

J
olted awake by the sprinkle of ice water on her cheeks, Madalina blinked and jerked in the chair. Her vision swam briefly, making a watery landscape of darks and lights and hovering silhouettes. As focus returned, more details emerged. Gray metal walls, exposed overhead pipes, windows blotted by peeling green tint. The distressed cement floor had cracks and stains from long years of hard use. Two or three single utility lights chased back the shadows from the metal chair she sat on, and also highlighted the faces of three men who watched her return to the waking world with curious, if intense, patience. Their features were, unsurprisingly, Asian.

Madalina tugged at her bound wrists, secured by rope to the sides of the seat. She couldn’t loosen the ropes, not even an inch. Her gaze landed on the lead man, who held a small bowl of water in his hands, which he promptly handed off to one of his acquaintances. Madalina took in their dark clothing, neatly cropped hair, and gloved hands. The men were slim yet sleekly muscled, the snug fit of their high-necked, long-sleeved shirts outlining the narrow contours of their bodies. When the lead man spoke, he did so with heavily accented English.

“Welcome back,” he said, the soul of courtesy.

“Where am I?” Madalina knew what the men were capable of. She’d seen their determination in Vegas, on the road to California, during the chase at her house. But she responded to the cordial tone, the calm demeanor, desperate to keep things from spiraling out of control.

“It matters not where
you
are, but where the dragon is. Please save us more effort and disclose its location.” The man lowered his head with his request, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I don’t know where the dragon is,” Madalina said, and that was the truth. She had no idea where Cole had hidden the dragon. She also didn’t know why the agents had come after her, when Cole had made it clear that a deal was under way. Perhaps there was miscommunication between the agents, or maybe they didn’t believe that Cole actually had the dragon.

“But you must know. You have had it all along.” The lead man cocked his head another inch, as if appealing to Madalina for better answers.

“I did have it, yes. I don’t any longer. Someone stole it from my house.” Not
her
house technically, but the men didn’t have to know that.

The lead man said something in Chinese to one of his companions. Madalina glanced between them, wishing she could understand what had been said. She had the impression that the men believed her, but she couldn’t say why.

Although she was intimidated by the agents, they did not make overt gestures to scare her. There were no trays or tables with frightening instruments of torture, nor did the men openly expose weapons.
They’re probably skilled at delivering pain with just their hands
, she thought to herself.
They don’t need scalpels or nails or hammers.

She shuddered at the imagery in her head.

Looking back at her, the lead man said, “We can corroborate that someone else has admitted to having the dragon. Since you are here, you understand that it’s relevant to inquire. To make sure he was telling the truth.”

“Yes. And he does have it.” Madalina didn’t feel as if she was throwing Cole under the bus; as far as she knew, the Chinese agents had been contacted and already knew that a plan was under way for the exchange.

“He. You mean the man in the black car? The one who helped you escape in Nevada?”

Unprepared for the direct question, Madalina figured it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible. She couldn’t be sure how much the Chinese men knew, and if they were testing her for truth. Perhaps they’d known all along Cole had been there and would retaliate if she lied. Suddenly, she felt out of her element. Nervous. “Yes.”

“And where is he now?”

“I don’t know. We had a fight, and he left.”

“What did you have a fight about?”

“A difference of opinion regarding our . . . relationship.” Madalina struggled through the latter half of the explanation.

The lead man inclined his head once more. “Now then. Tell us where
you
acquired the dragon, hmm?”

She licked her lips. Glanced to the far wall. To a bare, dripping pipe, and back to the agent again. Too late, Madalina realized she’d given herself away by diverting her attention elsewhere than him. He had a knowing expression on his face now, one that suggested he
knew
she was thinking up lies. She feared how much trouble she might get into if she couldn’t tell them all they wanted to know. “I inherited it.”

“From who?”

“My grandfather.”

“Where is your grandfather now?”

“He’s dead.” Madalina couldn’t suppress the tremble in her voice. The three agents conversed quietly in their own language before the lead agent began again.

“Did he leave you any other dragons?” the agent asked.

“No. I don’t know anything about any other dragons. He never mentioned them to me, didn’t leave me a note explaining what it was, or what to do with the one I have . . . had.”

“What about your parents? Or the woman you have been hiding out with? Is she related to you?” he asked, a shrewd gleam entering his dark eyes.

“They don’t know anything. Any of them. They’re more in the dark than I am.” Madalina heard desperation creep into her voice.

“If you cannot come up with any new information, we’ll have to question them nevertheless . . .” The agent let the threat trail.

“No!” Madalina, horrified at the thought of her parents or Lianne suffering the same interrogation, realized there were far more sinister threats than screwdrivers, needles, and knives. The thought of the agents abducting her folks or Lianne was unthinkable, unconscionable. She understood the agents were using this to try and get her to talk. “You can’t. My parents don’t have any other dragons, and Lianne . . . she’s innocent and knows nothing.”

The Chinese man arched a brow, as if to say,
My hands are tied. I’ll do what I have to.

“I’m telling you. They know nothing. Just take the dragon that used to be mine and look elsewhere. You won’t find any more information from my family or friends.” Madalina swallowed a lump in her throat, terrified that the agents might turn to physical “encouragement” to loosen her tongue.

Please, God. Not that.

Pulling up in front of Lianne’s, Cole cut the engine, snatched the keys from the ignition, and closed the door after he got out with more force than he meant to. Stalking around the front of the Jaguar, daring
anyone
to confront or mess with him, he closed in on Lianne’s door and banged three times to get Madalina’s attention. She hadn’t answered his messages, hadn’t answered her phone. He expected several more hours of intense discussion and had decided, while sitting in traffic for what felt like forever, that he wasn’t leaving until he’d made some kind of peace with her.

The door flew open, and a bat appeared. Cole barely had time to rear his head out of the way as Lianne took a swing; he caught the end, the aluminum slapping hard against his palm.

Lianne’s features, twisted into a mask of determination and fury, suddenly went slack when she got a good look at Cole. “I thought you were—”

Cole spoke over her. “I know you’re pissed, but you don’t have to get radical.”

“I thought you were
them
!” Lianne whispered, eyes darting frantically left and right. As if the Chinese agents might appear any second.

“No, no. Haven’t you talked to Madalina? Didn’t she tell you that I made an arrangement? She should be off their radar now.” Cole eased the bat from Lianne’s hand when she refocused on him and frowned. She looked worked up, ready to do battle in someone’s name.

“I have a whole other beef with you, Cole West, that has to do with you
using
my best friend. She doesn’t—”

Cole held up his other hand, halting the rant he knew was coming. “I explained all this to Madalina. Yes, I took the dragon, but it was to
help
her, not because I’m going to sell it to someone else. I’m going to give it to the agents, let the Chinese government have it back, so that she doesn’t have to keep running. All right? I could stand here and tell you all this, again, but why don’t you get Madalina and we can
all
have a discussion?”

When he peered past Lianne into the house, he couldn’t see anything but the vague outline of her living room furniture. That was when he realized there wasn’t one light on inside or out. He held the bat, now in his possession, down at his side.

“Why are you asking me to get her? Isn’t she with you?” Lianne asked, her voice shifting from accusatory to puzzled.

Cole’s gaze snapped back to Lianne. “If she was, she would be standing next to me. She’s not here?”

“No, she’s not. I came home to a dark and empty house. Madalina isn’t here—I thought she went with you. Even though she
shouldn’t
have, after what you did.”

“Why are all the lights off?” he asked. Something didn’t feel right about the situation. He didn’t think Madalina would have taken off at night, by herself—but then, maybe she had. Maybe she’d been upset after he left and wanted time away from the house.

“I don’t know. I can’t get anything to work. I even called the electric company, but they said they’d already had a report that the lights were out here earlier. Except no one else in the neighborhood’s lights are out . . .” Lianne stepped back, swinging the door wide. A silent invitation.

“You haven’t talked to her since you left earlier?” Cole went straight into search mode. He carried the bat with him as he went room to room, calling for Madalina. Looking for clues.

“No, no. Cole, did you upset her so much that she took off? Did you two have a big fight? It’s not like her to go without at least leaving a note,” Lianne called down the hallway.

In the spare bedroom, where racks upon racks of clothes filled most of the available space, he found an open window. The screen on the outside was missing. By the time he got back to the living area, Lianne had closed and locked the front door and lit two candles. A flashlight sat on the kitchen table, which he picked up and turned on. He flashed the beam this way and that: into the kitchen, across the table, over the back door.

“Did you leave the bedroom window open?” he asked.

“What bedroom window?” Lianne asked. “I didn’t leave any windows open. We had most of them blocked with—”

“Yeah, I noticed the dowels. But the spare bedroom’s window is open, and the screen is off.” Cole didn’t like this turn of events. Not at all. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his gut.

“I didn’t leave any windows open and haven’t taken off any screens for sure. I know for a fact that
all
the screens were on when we secured the house.” Lianne rubbed her hands together in a fretful, worried way. “My car is still in the garage, too. I told her that she could use it if she had to. If there was an emergency. So she didn’t leave that way.”

“She’s not answering her phone, either. But I don’t see it sitting around,” he said, flashing the light here and there. He turned up nothing, no hints or clues about where Madalina had gone. He knew, though. Down deep, he knew.

“Let’s try to call again.” Lianne pulled her phone from her pocket.

Cole stepped closer when an idea occurred. “Do you have one of those tracking apps on your phone? Where you can pull up the location of friends and family?”

“Yes. Madalina and I use it when we plan to meet for lunch or shopping—”

Cole didn’t wait. Taking Lianne’s phone, he sought the application on a screen filled with icons, punched the symbol for Madalina, then watched as the screen turned to a grid. Lianne peered over his shoulder as the grid continued to re-enhance until a steady blue blip made itself known among the streets of Whittier. This was going to make his task much easier. And faster.

“Got it. Is this anywhere Madalina might be? Do you recognize the location? Is it your shop or something?” Cole tilted the glowing screen toward Lianne despite the fact that she could see well enough.

“No, that’s not anywhere close to the boutique. As far as I know, Madalina wouldn’t have any reason to be there.” Lianne frowned as she stared at the grid.

“I need to take your phone with me. The locator is steady right now, but if it starts to move, if Madalina decides to drive away from here, this is the only way I can track her.” Cole wouldn’t take no for an answer. He stepped away from Lianne as the blonde made a noise of protest.

“But what if she tries to call me? That’s my
phone
, Cole.”

“She’ll get me instead. I’ll bring it back when I find her and we work this out. Promise.” Cole stepped to the door and out into the night amid Lianne’s stammering protests. This was the best lead he had on Madalina’s whereabouts, and he wasn’t leaving it behind.