The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo (Love at Stake) (16 page)

Gregori snorted. “Yeah, because he almost died. Why did you attack him all of a sudden?”

“He was cursing me,” Leah explained, then gave Dougal a pointed look. “You understood it.”

With a groan, he dragged a hand over his hair. The secret was out.

“How interesting.” Laszlo twirled a button. “When did you learn Chinese?”

“I doona discuss it.” Dougal headed for the door. “If ye need me, I’ll be in my office.”

Chapter Fourteen

H
ow on earth did he know Chinese? Leah tensed with frustration. Once again, she was finding it impossible to concentrate. All she could think about was Dougal. Why had he never told his friends? Had he kept it a secret for hundreds of years? What other secrets did he have? What did he mean when he said he’d waited for her so long?

“Leah?” Abby touched her shoulder.

She started. “Yes?”

“I asked you to talk to him.” Abby motioned to the soldier. “His blood pressure is spiking. See if you can calm him down. I don’t want to give him a sedative.”

“Of course.” It might interfere with the serum they were testing. Leah leaned over the soldier and spoke in Chinese. “I’m Leah Chin. What’s your name?”

“None of your damned business!”

“We’re trying to help you.”

“Bullshit.” The soldier glared at her. “You plan to torture me.”

“No. We’re simply trying to reverse some of your genetic mutations.” Although there was nothing simple about it. “Once we’re done, you’ll be able to return to a normal life.”

He scoffed. “Like a billion other people? I don’t want to be normal!” He tugged at the restraints. “Why am I so damned weak? What have you done to me?”

“You’ve been in stasis for a while, so your muscles haven’t been used. Once we have you back to normal—”

“No! Damn you, you have no right to change me back. I want to be superstrong and powerful!”

“His pulse is dangerously high,” Abby warned as she watched the monitor.

“He says he doesn’t want to be changed back,” Leah said in English.

“I was afraid that would happen,” Gregori murmured.

Laszlo shook his head. “He’s been brainwashed. Perhaps in time . . .”

“He won’t have time if his heart gives out,” Abby muttered.

“I’ll try to reason with him.” Leah switched to Chinese. “They tell me a demon changed you, and in exchange for giving you superpowers, he now owns your soul.”

The soldier sneered at her. “So?”

“If you die—”

“I won’t die, bitch! Even your torture can’t kill me. I was made invincible!”

“No one is invincible.”

“Darafer is! And he made us the same way. After Master Han takes over the world, we will be kings.”

Leah groaned. Why did bad guys always want to take over the world? “I don’t know much about Master Han or demons, but it seems highly likely to me that they could be lying to you. And using you. Would you really expect a demon to be honest? And do you think this Master Han will want to share his worldwide power with you?”

A flicker of doubt glimmered in the soldier’s eyes, then he blinked and glowered at her. “You’re wrong. Master Han is loyal to his men. He’ll come for me. He’ll rescue me and destroy you.”

“I’ve been told that vampires can’t teleport into this room. It’s made of silver.”

The soldier hissed and pulled at his restraints. “They won’t abandon me! You’ll see! Master Han will rescue me.” His face turned red as he screamed, “
Master Han
!”

“I’m giving him a sedative.” Abby injected him.

Leah winced. “Sorry. I think I made it worse.”

Laszlo twisted a button, gazing sadly at the soldier, who drifted off into sleep. “It’s always hard to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Leah sighed. Was it right to change the mutated soldiers back against their will? But if they weren’t changed back, they would help an evil vampire and demon take over the world.

If the Vamps didn’t change Master Han’s soldiers, they would be forced to fight them. And when they killed them, the soldiers’ souls would go straight to hell. Leah wasn’t sure she could believe in hell, but she could understand why the Vamps wouldn’t want a bunch of doomed souls on their conscience. No wonder they had been so determined to get her help.

She’d heard from Abby that the Vamps were terribly outnumbered by Master Han’s army. If she could reverse the mutations, then the Vamps could avoid a war where many of them would be killed.

Her heart squeezed.

For the first time, she understood just how heroic the Vamps were. They protected a mortal world that didn’t even know vampires existed. They sacrificed themselves knowing there would be no gratitude, no glory in return. They did it for honor, because it was the right thing to do.

That left her with an important question that could affect the rest of her life: how could rejecting an honorable man like Dougal be the right thing to do?

“W
hy did ye no’ tell me ye speak Chinese?” Angus demanded over the phone.

Dougal glanced at the clock on the desk. It had taken only ten minutes for the news to reach Angus in London. While watching the monitor, Dougal had seen Gregori move out of camera range in the silver room. “Gregori called you?”

“Aye, and he said ye nearly pinched the soldier’s head off. Why did ye do it? Was yer hand out of control again?”

“Nay.”

There was a pause, then Angus grunted in frustration. “Are ye going to tell me why?”

“He insulted Leah.”

“And that was reason to kill him?”

Dougal curled his hand into a fist. “It seemed appropriate at the time.”

“Abby was right. Ye’re letting yer emotions run amok.”

“I’m in control,” Dougal insisted. “I dinna kill him.” He glanced at the monitor showing the silver room. “The captive is fine. Abby and Leah are watching him.”

“So how come ye never told me ye speak Chinese? I checked yer job application from 1928. Ye dinna mention it there.”

“It dinna seem important at the time. We were concentrating on the Malcontents in Eastern Europe and Russia.”

“And when Master Han came along, ye dinna think to tell me? I’ve been sending J.L. and Rajiv there alone, thinking they were the only operatives we had who knew Chinese. I would have put you back on the mission roster a lot quicker. Ye should have told me!”

Dougal gritted his teeth. “It was personal.”

Angus snorted. “I gather that, but whatever yer problem is, deal with it. Ye’re back on the roster now.”

“I’ve been approved for fieldwork?”

“I still have doubts about yer hand, but we need you. The next mission to China—”

“No,” Dougal interrupted. This was why he’d kept it secret. “Anywhere but China. I canna go back there.”

Angus paused, then lowered his voice. “What happened to you there?”

Dougal grimaced.

“When were ye there?” Angus asked. “I’ve known you since Culloden. It must have happened before ye were transformed.”

Dougal clenched his hand, then released it. “I willna go back there.”

“The devil take it, man. We may all end up in China, fighting Master Han. He’s our worst threat. So whatever is bugging you, get over it. Fast.” Angus rang off.

Dougal sighed as he returned the phone to its cradle on the desk. He’d been trying to get over it for three hundred years. He’d lost everything. His country, his home, his family, his freedom.

He rubbed the scar on his right shoulder, where he’d been branded a slave at the age of seventeen. When other young men were just starting out, he’d thought his life was over. How could he admit he’d been reduced to a commodity, stripped of his humanity, and whipped until he’d lost all hope?

Li Lei had saved him. He’d become human again in her eyes, and she’d risked her life to set him free.

But when she’d needed him, he’d failed her.

The dragon tattoo sizzled, then erupted in heat over the etched flames covering his heart. He winced with pain. What if Li Lei had found a way to save him once again? Had her soul returned to set him free from the pain that enslaved his heart?

He blinked away tears. Even if Li Lei’s soul had come back, Leah was unaware of it. And she was ignoring him.

Perhaps that was the way it should be. If he was going to earn redemption, it was only fitting that he worked for it. He would have to earn her love and her trust all over again.

I will find you. No matter what. If it takes a thousand years, I will find you.

A second chance. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced. After almost three hundred years, he’d been given a second chance.

And this time, when Leah needed him, he would not fail her.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he following evening, Dougal teleported to the lobby at DVN and asked the receptionist for directions to Wilson’s salon.

“Down the main hall.” She pointed behind her at the double doors. “Then turn left and you’ll find it just past the dressing rooms.”

“Thank you.” He strode toward the doors.

“You’re not really getting your hair cut, are you?” the girl asked.

He paused with the door half open. “I look like a pirate.”

She sighed, a wistful look in her eyes. “I know.”

Was that a good thing? He wandered down the hall, then turned left. As he passed a dressing room, his superior hearing caught the sound of Laszlo’s voice.

“Two hundred dollars? For a haircut?”

“You think it was easy?” a man asked. “You came in looking like your hair had been groomed at a pet store.”

“Only once,” Laszlo mumbled.

The man snorted. “I knew it. Oh, and here’s the bill for your new clothes.”

“Five hundred dollars?” Laszlo squealed.

Dougal winced. Apparently a makeover was expensive.

“Relax, dude,” Gregori told him. “You look great!”

“I-I’m not so sure,” Laszlo mumbled.

Dougal reached the open door and peered inside. Laszlo was wearing expensive gray slacks, a red knit shirt of some strange modern design, and a black double-breasted jacket in a military style. The jacket boasted a ton of buttons, which seemed like a good match for Laszlo, but it was his hair that gave Dougal pause. The long, floppy bangs were gone. Laszlo’s hair had been cut short.

Dougal swallowed hard.

“Trust me,” Gregori said. “Leah will think you’re hot.”

“
What
?” The third man pressed a hand to his chest.

He has to be Wilson,
Dougal thought. He was slim with a mop of blond curls and sharply assessing blue eyes.

“You’re trying to impress a girl? Why didn’t you say so?” Wilson grabbed a pair of scissors off the counter, snipped at the neck of Laszlo’s red shirt, and ripped it halfway down. “There. Perfect!”

“What? You just destroyed a” —Laszlo glanced at the bill—“a hundred-dollar shirt!”

“And it looks fabulous!” Wilson peeled the shirt back to reveal Laszlo’s pasty white chest. “Now you’re saying, ‘Let’s get it on, hot mama. I can go all night long.’ ”

Laszlo gulped and grasped at a button on his new jacket.

“Stop that.” Wilson slapped at his hand. “It ruins your aura of confidence.”

“I don’t have an aura of confidence.”

Wilson groaned, then glared at Gregori. “Do you expect me to turn a kumquat into caviar?”

“You did great,” Gregori assured him. “Laszlo has never looked so good.”

“His name is
Laszlo?
” Wilson asked in a shocked voice. “Oh God, no. We’re getting rid of that.”

“What?” Laszlo sputtered. “But—but—”

“Stop that.” Wilson swatted his shoulder, then stepped back, tapping a finger against his mouth. “Hmm, how about Lance?”

Gregori shook his head. “Not manly enough.”

“You’re right.” Wilson waved a hand in the air. “I once knew a lovely man named Lance, but he fell for a werewolf. Can you believe he chose a fur ball when he could have had me?”

“Unbelievable,” Gregori muttered.

“I’ve got it.” Wilson snapped his fingers, then pointed at Laszlo. “Laser!”

“Where?” Laszlo looked over his shoulder.

“No, you! You’re Laser.” Wilson adjusted the lapels on his jacket. “And I’ll give you some advice for free. Join an all-night gym and put on some muscle. The girls love a man with a strong chest.”

“Oh. Okay.” Laszlo tried to ease the ripped shirt back together.

“Stop that.” Wilson slapped at his hands. “Don’t you want to look sexy?”

“I-I thought she might like me for my intelligence.”

Wilson snorted. “Are you kidding? Women want a guy with presence. Powerful, strong, and—” He glanced toward the door when Dougal stepped in. “Oh. My. God.”

Gregori smiled. “This is Dougal. The other guy who needs a makeover.”

“Oh yes.” Wilson approached him slowly, his discerning eyes examining him carefully. “Yes.”

Dougal inclined his head. “How do ye do?”

“Yes,” Wilson repeated, tapping a finger against his mouth. “Yes.”

Laszlo looked confused. “You’re getting a haircut, too?”

Dougal shrugged. “I look like a pirate.”

“Oh.” Laszlo frowned, twisting a button on his jacket.

“Hmm.” Wilson circled Dougal slowly, studying him, then reached out to touch his white shirt. “No.” He eyed his kilt. “No.” His eyes widened at the sight of his sporran. “No!” His gaze lifted to Dougal’s hair. “Oh hell, no!”

“What happened to yes?” Dougal asked.

Wilson waved a dismissive hand. “You have great presence, but—” He grimaced. “What in God’s name have you been doing to your hair?”

“I . . . wash it.”

“With what?” Wilson wrinkled his nose. “Lye soap?”

“No’ recently.”

“When did you last use conditioner?”

Dougal paused, trying to remember.

“Oh God.” Wilson shot an annoyed look at Gregori. “How many miracles do you expect me to perform in one night?”

Gregori chuckled. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“Well, that’s true.” Wilson touched a strand of Dougal’s hair and hissed. “Your split ends have split ends. What have you been cutting it with, a dull axe?”

Dougal snorted. “I’m no’ a barbarian.” He reached down to remove the
sgian dubh
from his knee sock. “I use a wee blade.”