"Do you deny these charges?" my father asked.
Finally, a question.
"Of course I do." My fists clenched tight and my nails dug into the skin of my palms. I wanted to say more but I held back.
"Under what circumstances?" He leaned forward and rested his chin on his clasped hands, waiting with the imaginary patience of a saint.
I knew better. That expression was the same one Dad had used when he’d found out I was dating a shifter when I was sixteen. It was the same expression he’d used when I’d failed one of the physical tests at the Mage Police Academy on my first try. It was his ‘longsuffering patience with my ineptitude’ expression. I couldn’t fucking stand it.
I looked away from him and focused on Citrine, biting my tongue as I contemplated. If I didn’t choose my words carefully here, they could be my last as an Enforcer. How the hell did I go from hero to zero in a matter of hours? It was like I was choking on my own kryptonite.
"Insufficient reconnaissance," I decided. "Whoever handled this case file either did an immaculately shitty job, or they left out invaluable information on purpose to set me up."
"Explain," Council leader Citrine said.
"Not only was Drake, The Shadow, Guerra left completely out of the file, but Avin, El Fuego, Monterro's information was incomplete and/or intentionally tampered with."
"Explain further," Citrine snapped, moving so I could finally see her eyes.
"He was apparently immune to fire. This was written nowhere in the file. Had I not used my decisiveness and gut instincts—" Oh hell yeah, I was totally using their own words against them, those arrogant bumblebees. "—Then we could have lost far more than The Shadow. We could have lost El Fuego and a rare mage jewel as well. Considering my options, I think I did quite well."
Councilwoman Citrine stared at me with stern disinterest. "The council will convene for just a moment."
Again, I nodded, because I was physically unable to do much else. It wasn’t like I could sit or pace.
They huddled together near the podium, exchanging harsh whispers, while I stood there with my heart racing.
Breathe, you badass, you. This might not have been the surprise raise you were hoping for, but you can bounce back from this. You just have to show those stuffy council members what you're made of. Though, how I planned to do that while I was stuck in place like a punching bag for their pleasure, was anyone's guess.
The council dispersed and took their seats once more.
Councilwoman Lotus, the nasally mage whose face held more wrinkles than a map from 1982, laced her fingers and held her head high. "Miss Summerset, the council finds this evidence intriguing. But, while we will be conducting a full-scale investigation on your behalf, we do not believe it to be sufficient circumstances for an acquittal."
What the ever-loving fuck? I wanted to scream and lash out at them. I wanted to smack their heads together and swab the cum out of their ears. I mean, were they not even listening? I just saved our asses! The Shadow always eluded us—always. Even more experienced enforcers had been met with a cold trail and a dead end from that man. They should have seen that coming. But taking out El Fuego? Saving a mage jewel? That shit should have counted for something.
My father glared down at me with hard emerald eyes and he spoke next. Of course, the council would make him issue their ruling. I wondered if he got some kind of twisted pleasure out of it. "You will be demoted from your position as chief and watched like a hawk during any and all future missions until further notice. One wrong move, and your enforcer career is over."
Black rage pulsed through me, and they were goddamned lucky I was immobilized. If I could have reached out and crushed Dad’s windpipe with nothing more than the force like fucking Darth Vader, then I totally would have. How could he do this to his own daughter? How could he embarrass and humiliate me like that?
He looked like he was about to dismiss me, but right before he did, he paused. Maybe he'd actually caught sight of the laser beams I was trying to shoot from my eyes. Because he finally sighed and asked, "Does this seem an adequate punishment to you, ex-chief enforcer?"
Mother of god, I wanted an anvil to fall from the sky and crush his dumb ass. "No, Councilman Indigo, it does not."
He spread his long, willowy hands out and shrugged. "And what would you suggest?"
This earned him a couple sharp glares from his fellow councilmembers, but he ignored them for the moment. He was giving me, quite possibly, my very last chance to turn this around. I yanked my imaginary anvil back from where it hovered over his head.
I huffed out a frustrated sigh. "Give me a week to take down The Shadow. Now that I know he's resurfaced in L.A., I'm sure I'll be able to track him."
"Out of the question," Councilman Daggler stated, his pompous British tone burning my ears like hot tea. "Her sentence has already been determined."
My father nodded. "This is true. But, perhaps, if another council member argued the matter on her behalf…"
Triton! I wished I could scream my best friend's name out loud. He'd stick up for me. He'd make sure these old bastards saw some sense.
He was the youngest council member to ever grace the chamber floor. A minor council member, like my father, but still; any council member could speak for me. Citrine was his mentor, but he and I had been friends since college. Would he speak for me? I needed him to, because this job was everything to me.
I pressed my lips together in a thin determined line. I was just going to have to convince him that standing up to his mentor was the right thing to do.
How the hell I was gonna pull that off, I had no idea.
3
Drake
The flame danced from my lips over to the metal bars, heating them to a bright hot-white. I gave a low hum of satisfaction as I watched the metal soften, then used my claws to bend it to my will. When the bar was firmly welded to the frame, I turned to Easton. A puff of smoke escaped my lips as I said, "Another."
Easton smiled and shook his tawny head. He’d kept his human form for this job because we needed at least one set of hands. My claws were good for swiping and slicing things, but not holding up prison bars. That took a bit more finesse than my dragon form could manage.
He easily hoisted up the next iron bar and held it in place for me.
Easton had crafted the bars himself in his shop, the same place he'd built almost all of our illegal weapons. Selling arms on the black market was one of the few ways for a shifter to make a decent living anymore. And we were damned efficient at it.
Of course, we weren't fabricating guns at the moment. No, our intentions were far more sinister…
I wedged my tail farther into the hollowed-out earthen hallway so I could get a better angle. My dragon could shift into a variety of sizes, depending on the space, but that tended to change the strength of my flame. For welding, I needed to be a little bigger than this underground passage was meant to hold. It made things awkward.
But Easton waited patiently in his welding gear, mask down, as I craned my neck and huffed out a jet of fire. My black scales reflected the light as I melted the last bar into place.
I took a second to watch the entrancing sight of the metal cooling—the soft fade from white to orange was beautiful. My claws clenched and my stomach tightened. The fire held me riveted. But I rarely allowed myself to see it.
Fire was dangerous when you loved it.
And I loved it.
Next to me, Easton coughed, snapping me out of my daze. I'd tried to keep the flames hot enough to minimize the smoke, but we didn’t have a ton of ventilation underground.
I shifted, my limbs contorting, heat sizzling through my veins as my body changed shape, and turned back into a six-foot plus human. I was dressed in a grey collared shirt and slacks, looking exactly as I had before I’d turned into my dragon.
I ran a hand through my black hair as I eyed the welds. "Not bad for a fly trap, huh?" I said, admiring my work.
Easton removed his welding
hood and flicked on a work light. The blond man tested the door to the prison cell, ensuring that the bars could still slide to the side smoothly. The iron shafts closed off the front of a dark, concrete box with a dirt floor. The spot used to be just another storage space in our underground lair. But now, it was gonna play host to an annoying little gnat.
Easton ran his gloved hands over the welds near the food flap. If anyone else had double checked my work that thoroughly, I would have been insulted. But Easton just couldn’t help himself. He was a perfectionist.
"Come on, Goldilocks. You know it’s just right," I goaded.
"Shut up with that already," he tossed back, punching my bicep. He hated that nickname. But his golden hair and his animal made it all too easy. Bodie and I loved to rile him up with it.
I didn’t respond, just walked down the short earthen tunnel away from our newly created prison cell and took the stairs. About halfway up, the steps flattened off into a landing with a single door. If I continued climbing, they’d lead me to an intersecting hallway full of storage rooms and random shit. But I didn’t continue upward. Instead, I took the door and entered our main meeting area.
Two hard plastic tables had been pushed together with a trio of folding chairs surrounding them. A flatscreen TV was mounted on a sidewall and another random-ass table and chairs—pub style this time—sat squashed in the back. Not lush accommodations, but we'd had to sneak everything down here under the noses of those damn MPs.
The Mage Police, or MPs as we liked to call them, cranked up the heat on this part of the city until even innocent shifters and humans were left sweating their every move. Skid Row always had their evil attention. We could have moved our ops elsewhere, but most packs were here. And what was a shifter without his pack?
Nothing. I knew that all too well…
Lorena, a wolf shifter who was the plump happy grandma everybody wanted—until they realized she was packing heat—hurried over to help Easton slip out of his welding overalls. Her glock peaked out of her waistband as she did.
"You poor thing—must be burning up!" she clucked as she helped him step out of the pants so he was in street clothes, a red t-shirt and dark blue jeans. "Let me get you a Gatorade."
She bustled over to the fridge and grabbed him one.
"Thanks." Easton always had an easy grin for people.
Unlike me. My face didn’t work that way. Neither did the rest of me, really. There was nothing happy or easy-going about me.
I kept moving until I reached a locked filing cabinet in the corner. Using the key I’d stashed in my pocket earlier, I unlocked the drawer.
"Lorena?" I said. "We need the room."
She turned to look at me, Easton's gear filling her hands. "I’ll just wash—"
"Now." I cut her off. "And send Bodie down."
She gave me a curt nod and hurried away, up the staircase to the tenement-like apartment complex that hid our lair.
"Dude, the word is please. Or thank you. Either one would work." Easton rolled his eyes.
I didn't bother to respond to that.
I shoved my hand into the cabinet and pulled out the file we needed. Easton's lectures on manners were far less important than the next job we had to pull. This wasn't just some under-the-radar gig. We were gonna go head-to-head with the MPs and show those mage fucks we were serious.
We needed every detail to be perfect.
I sat down at the head of the table. Easton took his spot at my right-hand side as I flipped open the file and ran my finger down the edge of the photograph paper clipped to the first page.
Aubry Summerset.
Fucking summer fae princess.
Head of the Los Angeles MP.
My lip curled into a snarl. Look at that snobbish stare, I thought. It ruined what might have otherwise been a beautiful face.
In the background, Easton pulled a bag of Fritos out of nowhere and started eating. The guy was a bottomless pit. It seemed like his bear instincts to put on weight for the winter couldn’t be suppressed, though he never actually put on weight. He worked out so much that he simply bulked up.
I couldn’t deny Aubry was attractive in a way that made heads turn. At least, for a fae, that is. Not a real woman. Real women didn't have lithe figures with legs for days or wings sprouting out of their backs. Real women had meaty thighs that I could dig my fingers into while I fucked them raw.
"Dude, careful, you look like you're about to flame," Easton warned as he licked his fingers.
I glared down at the photo one last time. "I’m just imagining how much she's gonna love being locked up and at my mercy."
The words came out harsh, but my dick hardened at the thought. The mental image of Aubry kneeling in front of me, her lips parted suggestively, her eyes wide and wanting, suddenly infiltrated my mind. I sucked in a deep breath and quickly shoved the image away.
We knew she belonged to a BDSM club from our research. One of my aliases belonged to the same club. Syn. Too bad I’d never crossed paths with her there. I would have whipped her raw…
Jesus, I needed to fuck and clear my head before we pulled this job. But there was just no goddamned time. Princess Bitch had ruined our last one. We needed her out before she ruined another.
I slammed her picture onto the table. "She fucking ONE-S.K.’ed El Fuego," I growled. Her one shot kill was just another night on duty for her. But for me? Months and months of planning, subterfuge, bribes, and spying had gone to waste.
We'd lost another mage jewel.
And one of Easton’s friends.
Easton set down his bag of chips and stopped eating. He put his one clean hand on the table, not touching me, because he knew I'd hate it, but just… getting close. "I know."
His eyes became slushy and I looked away. Out of the three of us, Easton was the softest.
Me? I couldn’t afford to be. Not when every alpha in town came to me with questions, issues, problems. Not when I was constantly trying to keep one step ahead of the stupid wasps and stick-wielding magic men.
I took a deep breath, staring at the subtle lines in the plastic tabletop, seeking calm. The anger that I worked so hard to restrain bubbled up despite my efforts. Damn it. I tried to suppress it, but my nostrils still flared, sending out a couple smoke rings.
I wanted to end her.
My fingers twitched at the thought of snapping her neck, like they could almost feel her soft skin underneath them as they squeezed her life away.
Bodie walked in, then. His light green eyes settled on me and he gave a nod of acknowledgement as he walked to his seat on my left side. The kid. Twenty-fucking-two and he already had a seat at my table. I didn't know if that said great things about him or terrible things about how this war was going for us.
We'd lost so many good shifters…
I swallowed.
Bodie sat down and ran a hand through his ebony hair. He didn't even comb it half the time, just did that finger thing. But the rest of him was neat and meticulous. Which was good, otherwise I'd have been on his ass. I didn’t do sloppy.
People watched the three of us. Bodie, because he was an alpha. Easton, because he should have been an alpha, and if people weren’t so fucked up, he would have been. Me… because I was The Shadow. And somehow, that gave the shifters hope. Which was stupid. I dealt in weapons, not hope. I wasn’t the hero they were looking for. And yet, I strived for it anyway. It didn’t make any fucking sense.
Bodie might have been better at it than me, if he weren’t the alpha of one of the largest wolf packs in the state. He spent every spare second hunting down fuckers who were looking to hurt or had already hurt his pack members, yet somehow, the kid had managed to stay off the MP’s radar.
I was a little envious of that.
Bodie adjusted his wide-rimmed rectangular glasses and then reached for the map inside the file. He carefully unfolded it, smoothing out the creasing. Kid was almost as particular as I was. He traced his eyes over the routes we'd marked out.
> "Too many tents here." He pointed at Carlos Avenue.
"There weren't any last week." Easton leaned forward, crunching on another chip.
"L.A. cops made the homeless camps move," Bodie responded. "Guess the Museum of Death a little ways down the street complained about the homeless scaring off patrons."
I shook my head. "Goddamned walking sticks, they're ruining shit all over the place."
This was the mages' fault. They were the ones constantly starting fires. Causing earthquakes. Buying up properties and driving up the prices so decent shifters couldn't afford homes anymore.
They were trying to starve us out of existence.
That wasn't gonna happen. I wouldn't let it.
We'd tried the indirect approach. We'd tried to lay low and stay out of their way, forming our own tight-knit communities. We'd tried to fly under the radar. But those fuckers were hunting us down like sheep. They didn't see us as anything more than a fun meal.
We'd show them. We'd steal their damned princess, then I'd slaughter her and the entire rescue squad they sent after her. I'd be a dead man, but it would be worth it. Because every shifter in the state would know what had happened, and they'd realize it was time to stop eating the mages’ shit.
It was time to bite back.
I pointed to another route on the map. "We can go left here," I said, my finger tracing over the thin pink line that marked the road.
Bodie shook his head. "Too crowded."
"Not as crowded as a street lined with tents," I argued.
Easton scratched the golden stubble on his chin. "We could always push back a week. You know how the cops are. Hard core for a week then they ease up. Those camps will be moved again in no time."
I shook my head. "We're not waiting."
Easton sighed heavily. "I know you want—"
"We're not waiting." I cut through whatever bullshit he was gonna say. Sometimes, Easton was too mellow for his own good. Bears weren’t always as aggressive as dragons. I knew that. He knew that. And he generally deferred to me.
He will defer to me in this case. I won’t let his heart ruin my plans.
Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1) Page 3
