Chapter 11

Conrad Sinclair stepped into his private car waiting outside the Thorne Auction House, his nostrils still filled with the scent of Piper Linwood. A virgin, of childbearing age no less. It was so rare to find them in these modern days. Hundreds of years ago, there had been an abundance of sweet-smelling creatures he could pluck like ripe fruit, but now? It was almost impossible.

Conrad's skin burned at the thought of stripping the woman's clothes and shoving her onto her back so he could take her. He would enjoy her cries of pain and the feel of her nails clawing at him. He loved it when females fought him. He was a male dragon, after all, and enjoyed being dominant in bed and in life. Dragons did not breed with weak creatures. He would prefer a dragoness, of course, but they were increasingly rare and more resistant to the advances of dragon males than ever.

He watched the streets with their bright flashing lights and immense video advertisements and growled. The modern age was a dreadful thing. A hint of smoke escaped his nostrils as his body responded to his mood. His dragon was just beneath his skin, clawing to get out. It'd been two weeks since he'd allowed himself the luxury of changing form and taking to the air.

The dangers were too great here, so close to London. The Brotherhood of the Blood Moon had a large hub in London. The last thing Conrad wanted was to be on their radar. He'd worked too hard to erase the evidence of his family lineage, as the last of the Sinclair dragons. The Brotherhood shouldn't know he was a dragon, which meant that if his plans went accordingly, when he became prime minister they would never see the threat coming. But he couldn't resist going after the jewels. He would just have to risk being recognized by the Brotherhood as a dragon if they came sniffing around. It would be worth it, though, to have the Cheapside hoard in his possession.

He needed those jewels. Both for practical reasons and out of spite. They had once belonged to Mikhail Barinov, given in exchange for a treaty with the Belishaws. It was because of Mikhail that he had been robbed of the power that should have been his.

And it had gone so well for so long. Being immortal, dragons could be patient creatures. He thought nothing of spending a decade slowly becoming a trusted assistant and confidant to the man who would someday be the queen's court magician, John Dee. Teaching him a little of his peoplenot much, but enough to put him on the right paths of investigation.

He had planned to use the queen to rid himself of his greatest rivals at the time, the Belishaws. Dee learned much of the dragons' nature, including what plants and minerals could quiet their inner beast, to the point of making as them weak and vulnerable as any human. Finding a potion to bring out the words of truth in his kind had been an unexpected but not unwelcome bonus.

Conrad knew that once he used Dee to poison Elizabeth against the Belishaws, those potions would ensure their destruction and secure his place and power over all of England, queen or no queen.

Then Mikhail Barinov had arrived and ruined everything. As soon as he had begun making secret overtures to Elizabeth, Conrad knew his plans were in peril. If Mikhail were to bond with her, claim her as his true mate, she would never turn on the Belishaws. In the end, Conrad had not only been forced to speed up his plans, but to change his target as well.

It had worked well enough. Barinov had been locked up in a dungeon, kept weak and helpless, and his treasures taken. But then Conrad had to wait years before he could move on the Belishaws. Too soon and he risked exposure. Time. He had all the time in the world.

Or so he'd thought.

He buried the memories of the past deep, ignoring the flare of his dragon's rage.

"Soon we will have all that we are owed. Soon," he promised the beast pacing inside him.

I trusted her, that human witch, but she betrayed me. I will have the hoard at last and will stand laughing over her tomb.

He closed his eyes, imagining the gleam of the rubies in the firelight of his treasure room and the sweet scent of a virgin in his bed.

Some days it was good to be a dragon.