The Dragonslayer (The 13th Floor)

  1303 – THE DRAGONSLAYER

  By Christine Rains

  1303 – THE DRAGONSLAYER

  By Christine Rains

  Copyright 2013

  Cover design by Christine Rains Copyright 2013

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of our many distributors.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTINE RAINS

  Fearless

  L’il Gal Al and the Zombies of Amarillo

  1301 – The Marquis

  1302 – The Alpha

  DEDICATION

  For Brandon,

  May you always find the strength to slay your dragons.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Xan missed the shot.

  Screams rang out as chaos erupted on the neighboring building’s terrace. Men and women in the finest designer suits pushed each other to the floor to get to safety. They flipped tables and sprang over chairs. Cameras flashed as reporters snapped photos of the assassination attempt.

  Attempt. Xan had been a boy the last time he’d missed a target.

  Governor Randall Whittaker stood statue still. His bodyguards who had tried to pull him down and away placed themselves in front of him, but Xan could still see the Governor’s face through his scope: hard and cheek twitching where a thin red line marred him.

  An inch off. Even from a distance of three blocks, Xan shouldn’t have been off that much.

  The Governor’s gaze locked onto Xan. His target’s eyes narrowed as he bared his teeth.

  Xan pushed his rifle away, but remained crouched on the rooftop. The bastard had seen him.

  He’d remained too long at the site. Unscrewing the scope on his long arm, he grabbed his black briefcase and jammed it in. He ran to the door with the case under one arm, dismantling the rifle. The door was left propped open with a soda can he’d set there. He pushed it outwards with his foot and sprinted down eight flights of stairs.

  His weapon was in pieces and tucked away in a hidden compartment of his briefcase before Xan reached the third floor. Straightening his tie, he exited the stairwell and walked down the hall between the offices. Just another lawyer working late and heading home for the night.

  In the elevator, Xan took in a deep breath and let it out with a slow hiss. He’d missed. How was that even possible? The Governor couldn’t have known he was there. Xan had gone early in the day, scouted the place, and gotten his free souvenir at the door. A silly copper coin with Whittaker’s face and slogan. It’d taken nearly a year of planning to find the right moment. This moment. And he’d failed.

  The Governor would expect another attempt now. He’d be waiting. And how far could the old bastard see? If he’d seen Xan’s face, there would be little chance Xan would get within a ten-mile radius of him again.

  The elevator doors slid open with a soft whoosh. A bright flash of light caused spots to dance in front of his eyes.

  Xan zipped out, snatching the source of the light.

  “Hey, buster! Get your hands off my camera!”

  The woman, trying to wrangle the camera from his grasp, was tall and all legs. Muscled calves led to dimpled knees and slender thighs. The blue skirt was too short, but at least her heels were a sensible height.

  “Let go! The cops will be here any second.”

  Xan’s gaze raked up to her face. Long with high cheekbones, fierce brown eyes, and hair that swooped over her forehead. Gorgeous and angry.

  No time to admire her. He needed to be as far away from the city as possible.

  “You haven’t had time to call the police.” To draw attention away from other personal details, he clipped his voice with a slight Texan accent. “I only wish to delete the picture you took, not destroy your property.”

  “I can take pictures of whatever I want.” She snapped back, still unable to free her camera.

  “No, you can’t. It’s a violation of my privacy.”

  “Freedom of the press.” She removed a lanyard with a badge attached from within her jacket. A media pass for the Governor’s charity event. Lois King. He raised a brow, and she tucked her badge away. “Make one comment on my name and I’ll kick you in the shin. Now give me my camera!”

  “Miss King,” he said with an edge to his words. “Freedom of the press is all well and good in public places and where they are invited. This is a private building. I didn’t ask you here. And I’m certain no one else is working tonight. How did you manage to get past security in the lobby?”

  “Never you mind.” Lois flushed and continued to tug at her camera. “Let go, you brute. You’re going to break it.”

  “I’m not going to break it.” Xan yanked it out of her hands and swiftly tapped the buttons to find and delete his photo. “As I said, I only wanted to delete my picture. There. You may have your camera. Exit the way you came in and have a good night.”

  He turned away from her. Lovely legs she may have, but she was a parasite. The press drained the life from people.

  There was a snap and flash. Xan gritted his teeth.

  “Please tell me you didn’t take another picture, Miss King.” He stopped, glancing over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye at her. “I’m in a bit of a rush. I need to beat the traffic.” And the loop he programmed into the building’s security cameras so they’d never know he was there. “Something more newsworthy is happening at the Hilton up the street. Shouldn’t you be there?”

  “If you’re referring to the Governor’s fundraiser, then yes, I was there, but there will be several boring photos of the rich rubbing elbows with the powerful. I’d left early when I heard about the assassination attempt on my, uh, radio. So I thought about which building might give an assassin a clear shot.” Lois straightened up and slung her camera around her neck. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You’re just some stuffy egotis—”

  Lois went silent. As a predator himself, Xan could feel when hungry eyes were upon him. Parasite she might be, but they were still hunters.

  Damn.

  “You’re him.” She breathed out, excited laughter bubbling up. “You’re him!” She snapped more photos. “Look at you, tall, blond, and muscled. No lawyer working until this time at night looks like you. Black suit and big briefcase. God, you’re like the stereotypical hit man! Do you guys have some sort of dress code or something?”

  No more complications. Xan dropped his briefcase and strode forward. There had been no fear on her face until he reached out to snatch her arm. A brave woman he could respect, but she should’ve taken her photo and run. A smart woman had a better chance at survival.

  Lois started to scream, but he slapped a hand over her mouth lest security hear and wrapped the other arm around her neck. She was a fighter. Kicking and clawing. Even
a few attempts at basic self-defense.

  But he was a warrior by birth. Trained from the time he was two.

  Not only had she taken his picture, but she’d seen him. The fake accent wouldn’t distract a woman like her from his face. No one could be allowed to remember him. His calling required anonymity. Best way to make certain of it would be to kill her.

  When Lois fell unconscious, Xan picked up his briefcase before lifting her into his arms. His gaze dropped to her legs as they dangled. Her skirt rode up a bit, and he tore his eyes away. No distractions.

  One job was botched, but another had to be done. His stomach twisted at the thought. Maybe he could convince her to keep her silence. If he gave her some information on the Governor, she could have her big story.

  Xan took the stairs down into the garage and hurried to his car. But what sort of story would compel her to give up revealing who tried to murder the Governor? He knew plenty of dirty secrets about Whittaker. Secret investments, taste for underground fights, and the maidens. Nearly two dozen girls had gone missing from the last decade alone.

  An assassin was still bigger news.

  Putting down his briefcase, Xan opened the passenger door and gently placed Lois into the seat. He buckled her in, careful not to let his hands linger.

  The truth would rock the world, though. Could he convince her of it?

  Shutting the door, he pursed his lips. Lois didn’t look so tough as she lay there limply. She was a woman like any other.

  No. Who was he kidding? He’d seen the fire in her eyes. No little story would do for her.

  But a dragon, there was nothing little about that. And as a dragonslayer, he was the only one who could prove to her that Randall Whittaker was a nightmare out of legend.

  CHAPTER 2

  Never bring work home.

  Lois was now a project. Digging her wallet out of her jacket pocket, he found the address to her little condo and checked it out as well as her neighbors before bringing her inside. She lived alone. No husband or partner, or even a roommate. Unless one counted the rodent in the large cage in her home office.

  Xan set her in the recliner and used an extension cord to tie her down. Not so tight, but enough she’d have to work at getting loose. She wasn’t a dragon, but she wasn’t on his side. He likened her more to a mercenary. Sometimes they were more trouble than the enemy you knew.

  Papers were everywhere. Coffee cups, takeout boxes, and plastic containers for leftovers from restaurants. Shoes were scattered amongst the mess and dust coated the shelves.

  His hands twitched. No, he wasn’t her maid. This mess wasn’t his to clean.

  He deleted the newest photos of himself from her camera and placed it high on a shelf out of her reach.

  Flicking on the television, he turned it to one of the local news stations. The Governor was going to make a statement within the hour.

  Had the old dragon seen him? Xan paced the area between the entertainment unit and coffee table. Whittaker would know it was no ordinary human assassin who had tried to kill him. The bullet had seared his flesh. Blessed by a priest and fashioned with a splinter from a dragonslayer’s lance. The wood was too valuable to waste.

  And he’d missed.

  Xan gathered up all the cardboard takeout boxes and put them in the trash. He cleaned out the plastic containers and slipped them into a bag for recycling when he couldn’t find a box for that purpose. He swept and dusted and ran the dishwasher.

  The quiet drone of the television was drowned out by a scream.

  Lois twisted her head to glare at him when he walked back into the living room. “What are you doing? Is this some kinky rapist thing? I’ll never cooperate. I’ll scream. The whole neighborhood will come running to save me. Do I smell Lysol?”

  There was fear in her eyes, but her fire burned so bright. He almost smirked. There was no doubt she was the type to drive people mad with her tenacity.

  “I’m not going to harm you.” Xan stood in before her, hands clasped in front of him. He no longer used the fake accent nor any act that he might be something other than he was.

  “You choked me and tied me to a chair. Who knows what you did to me while I was unconscious? What happened to your accent?” Lois’ face screwed up. Her eyes darted back and forth across the room. “Did you clean?”

  “I apologize, Miss King, but it was necessary. We couldn’t stay there any longer, and I didn’t think you’d willingly come with me.” He ignored her questions. “I do not wish to harm you, but I’m sure you understand the delicacy of my situation. I cannot allow you to reveal me to the world. And I will go to whatever lengths necessary to prevent that.”

  “You tried to kill the Governor. More so, you assaulted and kidnapped me. Do you really think I’m going to let it go? What are you going to do? Kill me?” Lois stopped. The color drained from her face. “Oh.”

  She screamed.

  Xan raised his brows. She had an impressive set of lungs. He remained standing and let her have her moment. Her screams turned to shouts of “Fire!”

  No one rushed to the door. The only response was some frantic activity in her pet’s cage.

  “Dammit! Someone call 911!” Lois kicked at the chair.

  “Your direct neighbors aren’t in right now. Your next nearest neighbor fell asleep with his earbuds in. If anyone else has taken notice, they’ll think it someone’s television or that it’s no longer an issue when they don’t see smoke. No one cares much about other people’s business these days.”

  “Of course they do, or I’d be out of a job.” Lois huffed and kicked again.

  “Let me rephrase that then: they don’t care about the everyday man. Or woman.” Xan added.

  The dishwasher swished in the kitchen, and the anchor droned on about all the great work the Governor had done.

  “Okay,” Lois said after a minute. She took a deep breath and let it out. She nodded once. “Okay. I don’t turn you in. Fine. Is that all you want to hear?”

  “Yes, it is, but I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, if you don’t believe me, that means you’re going to kill me anyway.” Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, fingers digging into the cushy material. “Just get on with it then.”

  Xan didn’t believe she would keep her mouth shut, nor did he believe that she had given up. She was a survivor. That level of feistiness didn’t come from a person who lived a pampered life. He wondered what sort of life she had. What kind of woman lived alone with only a rodent as company? Not just any woman, but a beautiful and confident one.

  “What are you staring at? Thinking how to kill me? Just do it fast. Drown me in cleaner and maybe someone will think a psychopathic maid did it.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “You misunderstand me. I don’t want to kill you.”

  “A hit man who doesn’t want to kill. Yeah, I’m buying it.” Lois snorted.

  “I’m not a hit man. Not in the way you’re thinking, and I don’t enjoy killing. I’d prefer it if we could work out something so we both can walk away from this tonight.” Before she could say anything, Xan held up a hand. “Hear me out. I’m willing to offer you something more newsworthy than the face of the assassin in exchange for your silence.”

  “And what could be more newsworthy than that?” She crossed her legs, drawing his gaze to them. Xan swiftly diverted his attention back to her face.

  “I know of several murders the Governor has committed. He supports underground crime and has billions of dollars stashed in secret accounts.”

  “So you’re saying Randall Whittaker is really a mob boss?” Lois narrowed her eyes.

  “No, not in those terms.” Xan shook his head.

  “Money and crime, not so thrilling. Every politician has his hands dirty. But the murders? Do you have any proof?”

  “You have my word.”

  Lois blew out a puff of air that made her bangs flutter before settling in front of one eye. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take you on you
r word. I need evidence.”

  “My word is my honor.” Xan lifted his chin, but then nodded once. “All right. I can supply you with a list of his victims.”

  “A list.” She pursed her lips and sighed. “I need hard evidence. Pictures, video, eyewitnesses, bodies. You have any of those?”

  “No.” He never had need of such things. He wasn’t going to blackmail the Governor or turn him into the authorities. Once he knew the dragon’s identity, it was his duty to kill him. And he’d failed. His jaw clenched.

  “So I just take your word that Whittaker is a murderer and keep your secret without revealing my source? No one’s going to believe it. I’ve never liked the guy, but the people love him. I’d be hunted down and burned at the stake.” Lois tapped her fingers. “You’re still the bigger story. Care to try again, big guy?”

  The anchor announced the Governor would be making his speech in a minute. Xan perched on the edge of her coffee table. “Okay. This speech. My proof to you that he’s not what he seems. He’s going to address me directly and offer a challenge. Subtly, but it will still be there.”

  “What?” She snorted. “Why would he do such a thing? He’ll just tell everyone he’s fine, assure them he isn’t going to start talking about more gun control, and his popularity rating will go through the roof.”

  “Listen to him as he talks. He’s more a killer than I am, and he takes pleasure in it.” Xan wished he could say more. Once upon a time, his kind were heroes. When they told people there was a dragon in their midst, no one doubted them. Now if he uttered the word dragon, he’d never be believed and he’d have to kill her as she laughed at him. “You work with words. Have you ever paid attention to what he says? What he really says.”

  Lois frowned and turned her attention to the screen as Whittaker walked up to a podium. A thin red line ran along his cheek. Straight and perfect. Just like his suit and reassuring smile. And the American flag that was positioned behind him.