Chapter Thirty

NATE

"I'll tell you everything I know about the Mortimer banks if you allow Alex to leave." My dragon keened deep inside me at the betrayal of our family, but he knew that Alex was the most important thing.

James's eyebrows rose, and he sank back in his chair. "An interesting offer," he said. "I was right about your sentimental streak being a weakness. But how valuable can your knowledge be? By your own admission, you are kept to the junior ranks of your family."

"My grandfather recruited me for this task. I can tell you precisely what he asked me to do and why he asked me to do it. I can also pass on every piece of information he has about your bank and other businesses."

"I see." He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. I couldn't tell if he was tormenting me by pretending to consider it or if he was thinking about making a deal. It was pitifully little I was offering him, but it was all I had.

"Your problem, Nate, is that I can compel you to tell me those things anyway."

"But how would you know if I was telling the truth? If you let Alex leave now, I'll tell you truthfully and fully everything I know. I swear to you on my treasure."

Alex stiffened beside me at the sacred dragon oath. "Nate," he murmured.

"No," I said. I didn't know what he'd been going to say, but he had to stop talking. He had to get out of here. He had to be safe, to go back to his precious Celtic Sea and frolic in the waves—and had I just started quoting Puff the Magic Dragon when I was facing certain death? Whatever Steven had given me must be good shit. The point remained, Alex had to be safe.

James sat watching me for a long minute, the weight of his regard making it difficult to hold his gaze.

Incongruously, Steven's phone started pinging. When it kept going, James glared at him. "Turn that thing off."

And then his began to sound. Chime after chime.

"Dad." Steven was alarmed. "Shit," he said, staring at his phone.

James had his out by now and didn't waste time in exclamations. "Tell Tom to shut everything down," he ordered Steven, then he was in front of me. His face contorted with fury as he thrust it into mine, and smoke wisped from his nostrils. "What do you know about this?"

He had all the power that went with being head of the family, and it was a struggle not to submit to that much might and authority. Somehow, I managed it. "If you allow Alex to leave, I'll tell you."

He headbutted me. James Fortescue, CEO of Fortescue Bank and upstanding pillar of the community, headbutted me like a drunk at closing time. The force of it slammed me back against the sofa.

Alex was trying to get between us, and Steven was shouting, and everything was chaos. Steven paused to draw breath, and into the instant of silence came the sound of rapping on the door.

With a burning glance back at me, James strode to the door. He opened it a mere crack, preventing whoever was out there from seeing in.

"What?" Dragon raged through his voice, unmistakable and threatening, drowning out my somewhat breathless yell for help.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but there's a visitor who refuses to leave, and when he gave me his card, I thought perhaps you might like to see him."

There was a brief pause, during which I filled my lungs again, ready to yell more loudly this time, but waiting first to see what this was about.

Impossibly, James Fortescue laughed. "Of course it is," he said. "Leave us, and send him up."

I was still trying to figure out what was happening when the door was closed once more.

"You okay?" Alex asked me. "You're bleeding."

As James Fortescue returned to his chair and carefully sat down, tension in every line of his body, I put my hand gingerly to my nose. At least it felt like it was still nose-shaped rather than the flat pancake I was expecting.

And then the door opened.

ALEX

An old gentleman entered the room, carrying a cane, though he didn't appear to need it. He stopped a few paces in and glanced around, no doubt seeing the smashed lamp, the blood on the rug, and Steven on the phone, gesticulating and shouting. His gaze rested on Nate for an instant.

"Do clean yourself up, Nate." His gaze moved over me towards James, and then he looked back at me. He examined me as if I were a bug on a pin, raising an eyebrow slightly before concentrating once more on James.

"James." I could read nothing from the newcomer's tone or stance. For all I could tell, he could have been out for a Sunday stroll.

"Abimelech."

I finally realised that this was Nate's infamous grandfather. So did Steven, it appeared, because he swiftly ended his call and stood staring at Bim from under lowered brows. Almost as if he were about to rush him.

"I'd ask to what I owe the pleasure, but I suspect I already know." James waved to a seat and Bim took it. He was smaller-framed than James and immaculately dressed, down to the silk square in the breast pocket of his suit. There was no mistaking that he was one hundred per cent dragon.

"We're taking back only what you stole, plus a little extra for our time and the inconvenience," Bim said. "I'd be within my rights to demand additional reparation, but there are more important matters in play."

My eyebrows rose as I wondered what could be more important to a dragon than gathering treasure.

"I speak for the Swifts, the Carews and the Mortimers. As three of the first four dragon families, we are in agreement that your recent behaviour has been unacceptable." He gave a wintry smile. "You'll understand that is an understatement. What Nate had to tell me about your younger son attempting to hook your eldest on drugs was, if you'll forgive the cliché, the last straw."

"Steven?" James"s fingers clenched on the arms of his chair, and his expression should have had Steven bursting into flames on the spot.

Steven paled under his burning regard. "I don't know what he's—"

"Silence!"

I was glad Mr Taylor was a floor away, because the dragon in James's command was unmistakable. Close enough to a bugle to have me and Nate stiffening at the threat.

Bim showed no sign of intimidation. "Your inability to control your family almost put every dragon at risk. We require you to deal with your younger son in a way we deem acceptable, or we will do so. Nonetheless, you will be draco non grata from this point onwards." He smoothed an imaginary speck of lint from his trousers and stood. "Nate, you'll come with me."

Nate staggered when he got to his feet. I was instantly beside him, my arm round his waist, steadying him. "What's wrong with you?" his grandfather asked.

"He"—I pointed at Steven—"drugged him."

I was very glad I wasn't Steven Fortescue. The look Bim turned on him was ice-cold and contained so much threat that my arm tightened around Nate.

"I'll add that to the account," Bim said.

James Fortescue was even paler than Steven. His power and assurance gone, he looked suddenly old and ill.

"Abimelech," he said. "May we speak privately?"

Bim looked thoughtfully down at his highly polished shoes before returning James's gaze. "We may."

They left the room, followed after a pause by a silent Steven who didn't look at us. For an instant, I felt sorry for him, facing an unknown future that sounded decidedly unpleasant. And then I remembered Nate collapsed unmoving on the floor, and my pity fled.

NATE

Once we were alone, Alex turned to me. "D'you need to sit down?"

The only thing I needed was Alex, in my arms and safe. He was already plastered against my side, a reassuring warmth, holding me steady, and I pulled him all the way into me, pressing my face against his neck and breathing in his scent. I'd been so scared for him that I'd been preternaturally calm about my likely fate.

"You're safe," I said nonsensically, and his arms tightened around me, his hand combing through my hair in a way that was so comforting, I wanted to stay here forever.

A while later, he drew back to look at me. "I want to get you out of this house while your grandfather's still here."

I was glad someone's brain was working. He frowned, suddenly. "Should you go to hospital? I'm not taking that bastard's word for it that the drug was harmless."

"I feel okay," I said cautiously, because I did. Just a little odd, as if I were a couple of feet taller than usual and my head was full of clouds.

He let go of me to hunt around the room, then lay on his front and wriggled under a chair. As I was beginning to question if the drugs were making a hallucinogenic comeback in my system, he emerged, clutching his phone.

"Right, let's have a look. Oh, thank God," he said in a running commentary. "Now that you're awake, you're out of danger and won't need any medical attention." Then his fingers clenched around his screen. "He could have killed you," he gritted out, and when he looked at me, there was a martial spark in his gaze. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

"Alex," I said, not even knowing why. Because I could. Because he was here, and he was Alex, and I loved him.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's get out of here before we do anything else. Can you make it to your room so I can pack for you? I don't want to leave you down here on your own, not with that bastard still around."

I wanted to protest, to tell him I wasn't helpless. I didn't because it wasn't true. He hovered beside me as I climbed the stairs, and then I sat on my bed and told him where everything was.

He was swift and efficient in gathering my things together, until he found my sleep pants with cartoon dragons. "What the—?" His eyes brimmed with laughter. "I thought you were a responsible adult."

"What on earth gave you that idea?" I asked him.

He crossed the room to give me a quick kiss. "We should get you cleaned up before we go anywhere. You look like you belong in a horror movie."

I did? Oh, yes, there'd been some blood, hadn't there? "Still can't believe he headbutted me," I muttered.

"Maybe we should tell Bim to add that to the account. I don't know what that means, but it didn't sound good. Why d'you think James wanted to see him privately?"

"James will be expressing remorse and suggesting ways to make amends." My brain still felt soggy, but this was so familiar to me, it was deeply embedded. "Bim, with apparent reluctance, will row back to what was his default position all along. They'll both come away thinking they've achieved the best outcome possible."

"It sounds like how Margaret operates," he said. "What was that your grandfather said? Draco something?"

"Latin for being banned from dragon society, more or less," I told him.

"Can't see why anyone would want to spend time with Fortescue arseholes anyway."

Alex had always had a way of cutting straight to the point.

ALEX

We took Nate's cases down to the hall. Or rather, I did. He said he was okay, but I wasn't going to let him carry anything while he was so pale.

"You should eat something," I realised.

The smile he gave me was one of such affection that my breath caught in my throat. "Could it be that Alex Teague is hungry again? Surely not."

"I'm a growing boy," I informed him.

Before he could enquire as to which part of me was currently growing, his grandfather descended the stairs.

"I would offer you a lift back to town, but I have the impression you have unfinished business here," Bim said to Nate. "Come and see me on your return. We have a settlement to discuss."

"Thank you, Grandfather," Nate said, and they shook hands.

Theirs was a very different relationship from the one I had with my gramps. Yet again, I was thankful I hadn't been born a Mortimer.

Bim looked at me. "You're one of the Teagues." It wasn't a question.

"Alex Teague," Nate filled in, and I nodded very politely at the old dragon, who had more presence than anyone I'd ever met. To my amazement, he inclined his head to me in what looked remarkably like respect.

"I should like to meet the head of your family before much longer," he said. "Nate, see that you arrange that for us."

Taylor came forward bearing Bim's overcoat, a hat, and a silk scarf. Once he'd put them on, he looked like something from a black-and-white film. I'd never seen anyone dress that way in real life.

With a word of thanks to Taylor, he left. There was a big cream car waiting at the end of the path, and an actual uniformed chauffeur got out to open the car door.

"Blimey," I said, lost for words.

Nate turned to me, his face full of laughter. "He does have that effect on people," he admitted. "I'm going to need to book a hotel. Would you—"

"Hell, yes." As if he thought I'd move an inch from his side until I knew for sure he was okay. And probably for some considerable time after that.

When I said goodbye to Mr Taylor, I realised I should have packed my stuff as well as Nate's. It was too late for that now—I didn't want to spend another instant in this house when James and Steven were still in it, not now Bim had gone.

"You're rich. You'll buy me clean underwear, won't you?" I checked with Nate.

"I'll buy you whatever you want, but are you going to need it? I'm hoping you'll spend the rest of the week in bed with me."

Mr Taylor turned smartly on his heel and disappeared down the hallway. Somehow, I kept from laughing until we were out of the door and waiting for our Uber. I didn't know what had happened to the properly behaved banker I'd first met, but I much preferred this Nate, relaxed and happy.

"I think we're going to have to buy him a whole greenhouse to make up for scarring him like that," I said, leaning in to nuzzle against Nate's jaw. "God, I love you."

When he froze, I realised what I'd said. For an instant, I forgot this was Nate, and I waited for the world to end.

He drew back to look at me. Joy was in his eyes, such blazing joy that I wanted to keep the memory forever so that on grey days, I could paint the sky with it.

"Alex," he said, his voice choked, and the Uber pulled up.