Home > Treasured(2)

Treasured(2)
Author: S.J. Himes

His building came into view, the glass and steel edifice rising like a silver mirror from the street in the rain-diluted morning light. It wasn’t a mountain, with icy edifices of stone that cut across the sky, but it would do for city living. The top fifteen floors were reserved for Golden Hoard Holdings, the acquisitions and real estate company he started a handful of decades earlier when he left Europe for Canada. The Montreal office was the flagship building and his headquarters. It would have been cheaper and easier to move outside the city limits, but there was nothing in the area that reached quite as high as a skyscraper, and still had internet. He needed the view, the height, and the space to spread his wings.

Tarquin missed the Alps, his former territory where the borders of France and Italy met, seeing Mont Blanc under the span of his wings, the white caps shivering from his magic, dragon roars echoing off the mountainside. The Great World Wars had torn apart the region, and he’d fought his way free from the encroaching German armies from the north and the Italians from the southeast and took wing to the North American continent. He lost much of his hoard in his escape, and not many of his brethren fared as well. He pushed aside the old melancholy and focused on the present.

He reached the main lobby doors just as the heavens above cracked open and rain fell in a deluge. The doorman held the glass door open for him, and when the door swung shut it blocked most of the noise. Tarquin spared a shred of concentration and power to dry his clothing and hair, steam lifting in a swiftly evaporating cloud.

“Master Tarquin, good morning,” his hyper-capable executive assistant greeted him as they glided over the lobby floor to stop at his side. Cariste was fae, their serene features a shade too sharp for humanity, skin a soft umber, dark brown hair pulled back in a tight braid that fell down their back. Sharp orange eyes gave away nothing, their smile professional and impeccable, and a posh British accent rounded off the uber-professional mien. “I have your schedule for the day. Wonderful weather we’re having.”

No comment about a dragon’s magic swirling in the sky. Cariste bore a tiny smirk and their eyes held amusement. It was hard to get anything by Cariste.

“Thank you, Cariste, and good morning,” Tarquin murmured, heading for the elevators at the far side of the lobby. “I trust your weekend was relaxing?”

“Yes, sir, it was indeed. Yours as well?”

“I spent the weekend reading.” And lazing about in his hoard, napping amongst his treasures. That was a given. Not many treasures made it across the ocean with him nearly a century ago, but the few that did he kept safe in his penthouse vault. The vault was big enough for a full-grown dragon to nap stretched out, though it still felt empty compared to what he used to have. Once he made a home of Montreal he turned to collecting companies instead of literal treasures, thinking perhaps that if the worst came about again, their loss might not be as painful as treasures he could hold in his hands.

The indoor waterfall that took up the entire far wall behind the security desk whispered in gentle counterbalance to the harsh storm outside, the rush of water reminding him of ice-cold streams from snow melt-off in the high ranges. Much of the building was designed to remind him of his former home. He tucked away his phone and the earbuds and accepted the tablet Cariste handed him, scrolling through his remaining engagements for the day.

The elevator ride was quiet and swift, and in short order they reached the top floor where his personal office resided. The entire executive floor was several thousand square feet and held the offices of various vice presidents, senior executive officers, and their support staff. His office took up the far corner of the floor, with a near panoramic view of downtown Montreal and the waterways. He appreciated the building’s height and his nature needed the inherent advantage to feel secure. Far from the mountains of his youth, but similar enough to make him comfortable.

Staff nodded and murmured respectful hellos and good mornings as he and Cariste went to his office. A few new employees gawked and scuttled about, and one awkward fellow even gave a short bow before scurrying off. Cariste sent them a sharp glance and they ran off faster, and Tarquin bit back a chuckle. He entered his office and Cariste swung the wood and glass door shut behind them.

“Must they bow?” Tarquin lamented as he removed his jacket and coat, Cariste taking them and heading for the discreet closet set next to the doorway to the en suite bath.

“Humans can’t seem to resist the inclination,” Cariste stated dryly. “They’ll learn better after a while. This happens every time we get new employees.”

Tarquin hummed and sat behind his large desk, the glass and wood monstrosity taking up the outer corner of the room, and he spun his chair until he could look out over the city. The storm raged on, rain lashing against the windows. Closing his eyes, he soaked up the sounds, the subtle vibrations of the wind and thunder echoing off the skyscraper as it stood against the elements.

“Speaking of new employees, when is our new Truthseeker arriving?” Tarquin asked, taking one last look of the city before turning back to his desk and the day ahead.

Cariste nodded and looked at their smartphone. “He should be here any minute. I believe the storm is contributing to his lateness. I’ve sent the personnel file to your tablet.”

“Better late than dead in an accident,” Tarquin said. He spared a thought for the energy pooling in the skies and eased it back a smidge, the wind dying down almost immediately. “Please send him in here in about an hour, I don’t want anyone rushing into my office stinking of sweat and anxiety.”

“Certainly,” Cariste murmured and then turned for the door. “I’ll bring you coffee and your breakfast in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Tarquin called out as the door glided shut silently behind Cariste. He reached for his tablet and got to work.

 

 

Alaric Keening shook out his red-gold hair and grimaced at the raindrops that flew everywhere. He was soaking wet, and late, and he was failing at making a good impression at his new job. He was certain he’d seen a frown of displeasure on Cariste’s face when he’d rushed off the elevator five minutes past the hour, long coat and umbrella getting caught up on each other as he raced down the hall of the executive floor and hurried into his tiny office space. It was less an office and more of a converted closet with no window to speak of, but the bathrooms were two doors down, and he had space for a desk and a tiny shelving system.

His talent was coming in handy. Hiring out his touch clairvoyance was something he’d never considered until he came across a job opening at GHH for an old-fashioned position called a Truthseeker. Once a term for psychics of various talents and skills who specialized in seeing past glamour and illusions, it steadily morphed into a label given to clairvoyants hired to sort out fraud. What GHH wanted with a Truthseeker took some digging. It seemed they were used in business transactions to prevent corporate fraud. He wasn’t the kind of guy who liked confrontations, and it worried him, but the paycheck and benefits that came with the position pushed him into applying.

He had an incomplete History degree that complemented his talent, helping him ascertain the origins of artifacts, relics, and historical papers like letters and antique books. Never did he think he would be sitting in a high-rise in Montreal, testing deeds and purchasing documentation for an acquisitions company run by a dragon. The incongruous nature of the job was more to do with his expectations in life than the fact that his boss was a dragon. Dragons were hoarders by nature, so it made sense in a practical manner that a dragon in the twenty-first century would hoard companies and property instead of gems and gold.

Hot Books
» House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1)
» A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire
» From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1)
» A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime
» Deviant King (Royal Elite #1)
» Den of Vipers
» House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2)
» The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #
» Sweet Temptation
» The Sweetest Oblivion (Made #1)
» Chasing Cassandra (The Ravenels #6)
» Wreck & Ruin
» Steel Princess (Royal Elite #2)
» Twisted Hate (Twisted #3)
» The Play (Briar U Book 3)