Captivated (The Dragons) (4 page)

I pushed the door open with nerves jumbled in a combination of fear and curiosity, and felt around the inside wall for the light, breathing in a gust of what smelled like a combination of mildew and herbs.

Flicking on the light, my accurate olfactory guesses were confirmed. I'd been given the key to a drying room-slash-apothecary. Most of the mini drawers in the room bore locks, though, and something told me the key in my hand wouldn't unlock them.

I nodded to myself, getting a good look at the room.

It made sense that they didn't want me in the actual warehouse. I hadn't proven myself trustworthy, and I would probably run, even knowing they would just come get me again. I wasn't a female with tons of connections and hideaways to call on.

I ran a finger along the counter, giving it the fingertip test, in lieu of white gloves. Clean. Well, they weren't careless with their things. My hands found my hips as I endeavored to wrap my mind around the position I'd found myself in.

Was I
master
herbalist material?

I was not.

But I was a smart girl, determined, and perhaps even better, curious.

What was it about this drug that was so special a motorcycle club like the Dragons wanted a slice of the action?

I was growing more determined to find out.

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M
ost original cultures regard plants and herbs as having spirits. I kept that in mind as I thumbed through the yellowed pages of the Apothecary's Companion. As I read it, I aimed to maintain a perspective that was open to the spiritual properties of plants. It was the sort you didn't share with just anyone.

Most people wanted to believe there weren't really any spiritual layers to the world, and while I wouldn't argue with anyone about their choice to believe or disbelieve in organized religion, I'd have a hard time biting my tongue where the subject of spiritual
life
was concerned.

It was just another layer of things. Maybe, the first layer, better put. Practitioners of healing arts believed that disease had a spirit. I remember reading that hematite was a stone believed to extract the spirit of disease. It was another thing I wouldn't discount. I'd experienced a few Reiki sessions and visited a color therapist (which was scarily potent), but I was still on the fringe of understanding. In this instance, I decided it wouldn't hurt to apply what little I knew to the task at hand.

So I looked for the influence of the planets that would naturally be listed in the older books. There was a time it wasn't taboo to list those things, and even when it was, some apothecarists and makers of almanacs would use astrological glyphs, so those who “could see” would see the only layers being commented on in relation to the spiritual, maybe astral, side of things.

I searched for telling root words and glyphs by the various plant names and uses, and took my own notes as I did so. I was careful to jot down anything that popped out at me when I read the longer passages that listed the author's personal observations of the experiments he'd conducted, and eventually fell asleep with my head on the note pad.

I stirred slightly, almost slipping off of the chair when I felt arms lift me up and carry me to the bed. I was too exhausted to ask questions, but my eyes fluttered open for a split second and sleepily noted the dark beauty who'd rescued me from the drying room chair.

I think I tried to say thanks, but I'm pretty sure the words didn't make it out, and by the time I heard the second door click, I was gone to the world.

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T
he following day, Sue came upstairs to take my order, and I was relieved and grateful for it. She carried a good-natured, warmth with her, and it helped me forget that I wasn't up early “working by choice.” I was there because I had to be. For a mistake I didn't make.

“Don't work too hard,” she told me with a wink when she returned with a simple bowl of oatmeal and strawberries and a small pot of black tea with a little bottle of liquid sugar on the side.

I didn't take cream.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, sweets. Link will take that down for you when he gets back.”

“When he gets back?”

She smiled and winked, her good nature rising to the surface again.

“Shouldn't be too long,” she added, revealing nothing but managing to avoid being rude in any way.

I gave her a nod, and she made a mock salute before turning to close the door behind her. It was the same one the gentle giant used when he checked in on me periodically. No one ever seemed to come through Link's door but Link. It was either his bedroom or his office.

My gaze lingered on the door for a moment, but I shook the curiosity from my mind. It was none of my business where he was. I really needed to get my head straight before I started becoming attached these people. That was the thing about human nature. You could easily find yourself in a situation where you connected on levels you wouldn't normally with people simply due to being in close proximity to them.

It's an environmental bond that's easily more dangerous than a bond of near-instant affinity or fangirl-kinship, or similar.

I carried the tea pot into the drying room with me, and set it next to the bowl of oatmeal and the books I'd been pouring over. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop and take a “lunchbreak.” It wasn't really my style. Once I got going on something, I was going on it. And I'd already found something to work with in the texts I was reading.

I was well into the second book now, and though the authors were different. Their comments about the plants in question were similar. It was almost like they knew something they weren't outright saying.

There were more comments on lucid dreaming effects than there were on any sensual properties, but that was easily attributable to the era. There was definitely a long prude phase responsible for the majority of discomfort surrounding sexuality in the world.

I was sure that had to account for most of the reason so little was recorded about sex in relation to the herbs that were documented.

The properties of fire and water, in the 'elemental' sense of astrology kept coming up, and my mind began to consider the proportions that would be needed to achieve the vaguely-revealed aims of the club's original drug efforts.

I sat for awhile with my hand propped under my chin after I drained the bowl of oatmeal and was halfway through the pot of tea. Something in my logic had graduated from mere observation and note-taking to experimental formulating in my mind. I began to consider the combinations and foremost properties of the plants in comparison to the others.

How might they act with one another in varying proportions? Which plants would have the stronger spirits that stole the show? And more importantly, what were the Dragons wanting most? A pain killer, sleep elixir, or aphrodisiac? What was the goal?

It wasn't a question I could answer for myself, so I waited. I folded up shop when I felt like I'd gotten as far as I could go, and I removed the book and lunch dishes from the drying room, locking it behind me.

It was still early in the day, but I took to the bed with a spirit of boredom that I knew I couldn't do anything about. I felt like a caged animal, and I had no idea when I'd be allowed to call anyone.

People would start worrying soon. I usually popped into the school store once a week, and I was definitely in the library when I had spare moments to devour whatever Urban Fantasy novels were still being published.

For random buyers, I guess it was a dying fad, but for fangirls, it would live on. I only hoped we wouldn't run out of interested authors.

I kicked my shoes off as I lay back on the bed, tugging my black curls to come tumbling out of the bun perched at the top of my head. My hair fell like a curtain around me, and I plunked myself back on the blanket with a fairly audible sigh.

I squeezed my eyes shut when my mind insisted on bringing up an image of Link. No. No. I was not going there. I turned on my side, like that would somehow do something to keep my mind from wandering. It was like I had no control over where my thoughts were traveling these days. Maybe that was a symptom of captivity.

Maybe I was just that tired.

As for Link. I wasn't going to do that. Be that girl. That
captive
. I wasn't.

I sighed again, my chest rising and falling dramatically. I had to level with myself. It would have to happen sometime and might as well be right then. I found him attractive. It wasn't a crime. He was dark, mysterious, powerful, and even quirky.

Any red-blooded female would respond to that. Of course, my admission didn't mean I would in any way respond. I could keep my private thoughts to myself just fine. No problem there. I was just leveling with myself; that was all.

I started at the knock on the door and sat straight up.

“Who?” I asked, knowing full well who it was.

“Link.”

“Come in,” I said with an admirably tamed tone. I was nothing if not exceptionally talented in the way of artifice.

Link's eyes met mine, and he looked me over curiously. I realized his gaze was lingering on my hair, and I rushed to pin it up.

“You don't hav-”

“Sorry. What is it?” I asked, cutting him off before he could apologize for anything that raised a subject I was sure I didn't want to discuss with him.

“Just checking in. Del's out for the afternoon.”

“I was wondering where he'd gone off to,” I commented, realizing I was sounding “extra nice” out of my own nervousness.

“Yeah, so. Knock on the wall if you need me.”

“Um, Link?”

“Hmm?”

He turned those dark eyes on me, and they glinted like dimming jewels. He was beautiful. One of those guys with classic bone structure and an intense way of looking at things that wasn't rehearsed like the one certain pop boys used as a fall back.

Link was just a gorgeous man, and despite it all, he wasn't an asshole. I didn't agree with the methods of his club, but at least they were opening an opportunity for Vinnie to keep his bones intact. I imagined some clubs would have found him by now and took his life without worrying about whether he was guilty or not.

“I might be onto something, but I'll need access to the herbs, so I can test out a few things.”

There'd been a faint light in his eyes that died out as soon as the words left my lips, and  he pulled his expression taut.

“That's great. I'll run it by the Pres.”

“Alright.”

He gave me a nod and made to step back out of the door.

“Do I.... have to be locked up like this all of the time? Like can I call people and let them know I'm okay at some point?”

“Yeah. As soon as you give us something to work with; the pres already said, you can move about the lounge as you like. He doesn't want you leaving the grounds until we're settled, but you won't be stuck in here much longer.”

I nodded.

“Well, that's a relief.”

“Yeah.”

He made a half-smile and averted his eyes from mine.

“Gotta get some paperwork done. I'll check in on you later.”

“Alright. Yeah. Sure.”

I sounded like a bumbling idiot, but I maintained the facade of ease until he was out the door and had it closed with a click. This was so not going in the direction I wanted. I flicked a curl falling from the hasty bun I formed out of my face, and laid back this time with a mind full of thoughts I couldn't shake for anything in the world.

Thankfully, I fell asleep at some point, in the futility of it all, and by the time I woke again, it was nightfall, and someone was knocking at the door again. This time it wasn't Link's door, and I noted how disappointed I was about that with an ailing sigh.

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