Ranulf snow dragons hunt.., p.4
Ranulf: Snow Dragons Hunting 3,
p.4
For the moment, Ranulf had no choice but to play this situation out to the end. To continue to waste precious time. He only hoped that when this was all over, Sephie wouldn’t hate him too much for putting her through the added distress of thinking he was unwilling to help her parents.
The truth was, he would do everything and anything to ensure his mate’s happiness. Ensuring her parents’ safety was top of that list.
Wallis looked nonplussed for several seconds before that look of mockery returned. “You don’t mean that.”
Ranulf gave a derisive smile as he shook his head. “You really don’t know the nature of the beast you’re hunting, do you?” It was a challenge, not a question.
“But I have every intention of knowing all there is to know about that particular beast,” Wallis taunted.
Ranulf’s smile was pitying. “You have no idea of the capabilities of the monsters you’ve awoken.”
“And yet I’m still the one setting the rules and making the demands,” Wallis scorned.
Ranulf’s nostrils flared. “For the moment.”
Wallis gave a derisive huff. “That won’t change when I’m the one who has possession of the journal.”
“After killing the young man who stole it for you.” He sent Sephie an apologetic grimace when he saw the horror in her widened eyes.
Wallis shrugged. “There are always casualties in any war. Ah, yes. While we’re on that subject… I don’t suppose you have any idea where my niece is currently? She disappeared over a week ago in the company of one of your brothers.”
“Zoey isn’t your niece,” Ranulf dismissed.
Nor, considering they now knew Wallis was responsible for the demise of Zoey’s parents so that he could become her guardian and have access to her trust fund, did Ranulf believe this man had any real interest in her welfare now.
“But you do know where she is,” Wallis pressed.
“Isn’t any attempt at concern on your part as to her whereabouts a little late in coming?”
“Oh, I’m not concerned about Zoey,” he scorned. “I’m only interested in knowing the whereabouts of your big bastard of a brother. As Zoey is probably still with him, I thought I would ask where she was rather than him,” he calmly explained.
As if Ranulf cared what this man’s thought processes were. “They are both somewhere safe.”
“And your other brother and the girl who originally bought the journal?”
“Also safe.” His eyes narrowed. “Where is the journal now?”
“Also safe,” Wallis mocked. “More than a fair trade for a large chunk of your treasure, don’t you think?”
Except none of the brothers were foolish enough to believe that would be the end of Wallis’s demands. Just as they knew that, after he had returned the journal, there was no guarantee that he hadn’t taken copies of the relevant pages of that old journal as insurance and future leverage.
Besides, the Drake brothers didn’t make deals with murderers.
They could, of course, wipe Wallis’s memory of any knowledge of the Drake brothers, their location, and the treasure.
But all three brothers, as well as Belle and Zoey, had agreed that course of action didn’t punish Wallis for the three deaths he was already responsible for.
Whatever punishment they decided upon would have to be carried out soon, because the time was fast approaching when they would all need to move elsewhere for several decades. Under the circumstances, that would probably be as well.
Usually, the brothers retreated to their caves and slept some of that time away on top of their treasure. But with them all now having mates, that was no longer an option. They would all need to relocate to one of the other houses the brothers owned in different locations around the world.
As this was their main residence, their treasure would remain here, unprotected apart from the wards they would leave in place at the entrance and inside the cavern. Those wards would alert the brothers the moment anyone attempted to enter the network of caves where their treasure was hidden.
Not Wallis, of course, because whatever punishment they unanimously decided upon for this man, he was never walking away from here. No, Wallis’s fate had been decided from the moment he arranged for the journal to be stolen from Belle and after the horrendous way he had killed the young thief after he had handed it over to him. No doubt Wallis had carried out that horror show not only to avoid paying Ben for stealing the journal, but also to ensure his silence on the existence of dragons and, hopefully, their treasure.
No, Wallis’s ultimate fate had been unanimously agreed upon. The only decision yet to be made was the method of his death.
“None of us would ever simply hand any of that over to you,” Ranulf scorned.
“You will unless you want the Malcolms to die and this pretty thing to hate you.” Wallis briefly released Sephie’s shoulders and dared to touch her pink tresses.
Ranulf’s jaw tightened, and his dragon scrabbled inside to be set free with the cry of kill.
A savagery Ranulf managed to quell as he maintained an outwardly bored expression and gave a disinterested shrug. “As I told you, I don’t know them or her.”
“Even if that were true, it’s obvious, from reading the nun’s journal, that you and your brothers all have a savior complex,” he derided.
“Only up to a point,” Ranulf acknowledged. “That point being as long as it doesn’t involve harm coming to any of us,” he added when Wallis raised a questioning brow.
“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Wallis lifted his hand, his thumb hovering an inch above the red button before it began to lower.
“No!” Ranulf made a forward move, as if he intended to stop the other man.
“Thought so.” Wallis chuckled as he lifted his thumb a safe distance. “I took the time to research the people living in the village before coming here. More specifically, I looked into all things Drake-brothers related.”
That explained part of what this man had been doing when he had disappeared for the past week.
Wallis nodded. “It seems that when the church needed a new roof, Drake Enterprises gave it the money. When the school needed a tennis court, Drake Construction donated their services. When the local shop was threatened with the removal of the post office service, a company named Drake Brothers Ltd. stepped in and offered the necessary funding to keep that service open. Do you see the pattern?” he taunted.
Ranulf snorted. “That proves nothing except that we like to invest in the village we’ve made our home.”
“There’s also the matter of your name.”
He frowned. “What about it?”
“Drake is another name for dragon.”
“It’s also the name of the male duck,” Ranulf derided.
Wallis’s face darkened angrily. “Don’t try and fuck with me! I know who you are. I know what you are.”
Ranulf sensed Sephie’s questioning gaze on him as Wallis repeated the same words she’d said earlier, but in her case, they had been a question. “If you truly know what you’re talking about, then you must also be aware of how much danger you are currently in for daring to threaten my brothers and me.”
“Not when I have the Malcolms and their beautiful daughter as collateral.”
Ranulf could feel his dragon’s rage deepening.
He was angry too, furious, in fact, that this bastard even dared to breathe the same air as Sephie. The fact that he had hit her, touched her, was touching her still, made Ranulf want to rip the man’s throat open and watch as the life bled out of him.
Knowing that their plan was for Ranulf to keep this man talking was one thing; carrying out that endeavor without giving in to the increasing rage he felt to end this man was something else entirely.
At this point, the only thing holding him back from doing exactly that was the threat to Sephie’s parents.
What he really wanted to do was move with his preternatural speed, release Sephie, and cut Wallis’s throat with his talons.
The man’s thumb hovering threateningly over the red detonator button prevented him from doing any of those things. Because Wallis was right—if anything happened to Sephie’s parents because of him, she would never forgive him.
He also believed that his brothers, and Belle and Zoey, deserved to see that justice was served for the lives Wallis had taken.
“And in exchange for their safe release, you want us to…?” Ranulf encouraged the other man to keep talking.
Wallis smiled. “I want you to give me as much of your treasure as I can carry away from here in a helicopter.” Behind his glasses, his eyes glittered with the fervor of the true fanatic that he undoubtedly was. “Nothing second-rate, but the very best of the gold and jewels the three of you bastards have been accumulating and hiding for centuries!”
What the hell did Ranulf think he was doing?
The tape across her mouth prevented Sephie from speaking, so instead she had to scream her protests inside her head.
Her parents, all of their lives, depended on their complete compliance. Instead, Ranulf was angering Wallis so much that he looked more than ready to press the red button and blow up the inn with her parents inside.
Also, what on earth did Wallis mean by “I want you to give me the treasure, the best of the gold and jewels the three of you have been hiding for centuries”?
She had already known Edgar Wallis’s mental state was deteriorating quickly when she had returned to the inn and he had punched her in the face for not doing exactly as he had told her to: namely, delivering the letter to Ranulf and immediately returning to the inn. She was not supposed to have engaged in conversation with him.
Wallis began muttering to himself as he pulled Sephie to her feet and then tied her to another chair. He then slapped a strip of tape over her bleeding mouth before going down to the cellar for her mother.
Her mother, like her father, was still only wearing her nightclothes. Her face, after spending several hours in the cellar not knowing what was going on above her, was deathly pale, her hair tousled. But her gaze brightened with relief when she saw her husband and Sephie were safe, even if they were also both tied to chairs.
Wallis didn’t speak to any of them as he then untied her father and, keeping that gun trained on both her parents, gave them a bathroom break before once again securing them to the two chairs opposite Sephie.
As far as Sephie knew, her parents hadn’t had anything to drink or eat since yesterday. No wonder their faces were so ashen. But with tape over all their mouths, Sephie wasn’t able to say anything to reassure them.
Reassure them?
Of what?
That they would all be safe?
That Ranulf would rescue them?
And exactly how was he supposed to do that when they had all watched in horror as Wallis began taking items from inside the backpack he had arrived with the night before? The most recognizable of those things being three bundles of taped-together sticks of dynamite.
Dynamite!
Sephie had decided this whole nightmare was turning into something she would expect to see in a movie. Except this situation was very real and not being watched from the safety of an armchair as she ate popcorn and watched the action unfold on the TV screen.
They had certainly all watched with horror as Wallis had then set about placing those bundles of dynamite in three different areas of the ground floor of the inn and ensuring they were all linked to the detonation console.
Thank God there were no guests currently staying at the inn, and that the CLOSED FOR FAMILY EMERGENCY notice and the locked door had prevented any customers from trying to come in for a drink at lunchtime or this evening.
Although that didn’t change the fact that Sephie and her parents were made to sit in the dark bar area with no food or drink, surrounded by three bombs while the man she now knew to be Edgar Wallis went into the kitchen and cooked himself some eggs, bacon, and toast before he sat at the breakfast bar to eat them.
As if this was just another day and he didn’t have three hostages tied to chairs surrounded by bundles of dynamite.
He had to be a psychopath!
One so unhinged that Sephie felt sure he wouldn’t hesitate to press his thumb on that red button and blow her parents and the inn to pieces if he felt like it.
She kept her pleading eyes on Ranulf now, hoping to convey some of that horror to him. She was depending on him to somehow come up with a solution to this situation before it was too late.
His expression softened as he held her gaze. “Do you trust me?” he prompted softly.
Did Sephie trust him?
She had no other choice right now. Was certainly in no position to be able to help her parents.
She continued to look at him as she gave a slow inclination of her head, hoping the expression in her eyes conveyed that her concern wasn’t for herself but for her parents.
But to answer his question: of course, she trusted Ranulf.
But as he hadn’t resolved this situation in the past five minutes, and nothing had changed in that time, she had no idea how he thought he was going to do anything now that would ensure his own safety, let alone that of her and her parents.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed softly.
Sephie gave a grunt of incredulity. Close her eyes! That was the last thing she wanted to do when she had Wallis standing behind her, threatening to kill her parents if Ranulf didn’t obey.
She could only imagine that the physically powerful Ranulf having to suffer the indignity of someone else having the upper hand in a situation was something he was completely unfamiliar with.
“Stop talking to her,” Wallis instructed harshly.
“Close. Your. Eyes,” Ranulf told her again, completely ignoring the other man.
She gave Ranulf a beseeching look to convey her disbelief in what he was asking her to do. Closing her eyes wasn’t going to stop her from hearing as her parents and the inn were blown to pieces just yards away.
“Please,” Ranulf added softly.
Her heart fluttered in her chest at the pleading in his voice.
“I said stop talking to her,” Wallis repeated furiously.
“No matter what you hear, Sephie,” Ranulf said, ignoring the man for a second time, “please keep your eyes closed.”
Sephie, unwilling to test Wallis’s patience any further, gave a brief nod before tightly closing her eyes.
She might not be able to see, but she did sense the sudden darkness through her lids and felt a rush of air go past her that was strong enough to ruffle her hair.
Wallis then made a sound of protest, and a wet choking sound that then turned into a scream.
CHAPTER SIX
The moment Ranulf heard the two words Contained and Safe inside his head, he knew the agonizing time of having to listen to the gloating Wallis’s threats was finally over.
He would be forever grateful to Sephie for doing as he had asked when she closed her eyes and kept them closed.
He didn’t want her to see any of what was about to happen.
The two of them needed to be completely alone, and not under any sort of threat, when he explained who and what he was and what she now meant to him.
Her unquestioning compliance now allowed Ranulf to snuff out the candles with just a thought before he moved forward with preternatural speed. Neither of which Wallis had any chance of reacting to until it was too late.
Unlike Wallis, Ranulf had enhanced dragon vision, allowing him to see in the dark. A stroke of his long talons across the fragile skin of Wallis’s wrist, and the hand holding the controller with the button set to detonate the dynamite in the inn was no longer attached to Wallis’s arm. He was tempted to do the same to the other wrist, detaching the hand that had dared to touch his mate’s hair minutes ago. He might still do that later, but for now, he restrained himself.
But he did enjoy hearing Wallis’s shocked gasp after he had reignited the candles and the man was able to see his own dismembered hand lying on the tiled floor. The scream that immediately followed was music to Ranulf’s ears.
He watched with satisfaction as the man immediately released Sephie to use his other hand to attempt to stem the flow of blood from the stump at the end of his arm.
“You bastard!” he accused when the blood kept pumping through his fingers. “You fucking—”
Ranulf had cut off Wallis’s flow of curses by placing his blood-wet talons around the other man’s throat. “Keep your eyes closed,” he growled at Sephie when he sensed she was about to give in to her curiosity and open them.
Her lips thinned indignantly in a show of irritation at his order, but thankfully, she still did as he asked.
Seconds later, Ranulf applied pressure to the strategic points in Wallis’s neck, and the man was rendered unconscious. Ranulf then dragged Wallis over to the open doorway and handed the dragon hunter off to his brothers waiting outside.
Lachlan took the detonator and put it in his pocket, while Hunter retrieved the severed hand and then incinerated away any evidence of blood on the floor, before the two of them silently departed. Once they were outside, Lachlan grasped Wallis’s coat collar and easily pulled the still unconscious man across the snow-covered ground behind him.
None of them was willing to touch any more of the murdering bastard than they needed to be able to carry out the rest of their plan.
Ranulf knew his brothers would be taking Wallis to Drake House and securing him there. The exact method of his death, as he had brought deliberate harm to all of them in one way or another, would be decided later.
They had come up with this plan earlier today after Hunter and Lachlan, having sensed Ranulf’s deepening distress in regard to his mate, had listened to his explanation of what was happening and then shared that situation with their mates. Zoey and Belle had insisted they all must assist in saving Sephie and her family before disposing of Edgar Wallis once and for all.
Mates, Ranulf had realized, could be bloodthirsty creatures when the people they loved were threatened.
Much to Zoey’s and Belle’s annoyance, Hunter and Lachlan had suggested they remain at Drake House until the worst of this situation was over.












