His Blazing Passion: Real Men of Wildridge

by Kyle, Celia

  “Danque saw through it, though?”

  “Not even. I was coming down the hallway at the same time he burst through the door of his buddy’s place. My plan had been to pretend to be cleaning the floors until he came out and then slip up behind him. Didn’t happen that way. Turns out Danque was so pissed he decided to take it out on anyone in his way.”

  A fierce protectiveness surged inside Allon at the thought of Chelle facing down a murderous criminal. “Did he hurt you?” he growled.

  “Nah,” she said, though her eyes lingered on him a little longer before she looked back to the road. “I think he just saw a janitor and figured nobody would care if I was stunned for a few minutes. And so he did, and my happy ass got to stare at the wall of some slum for a while. I guess I should be grateful none of the assholes who walked right past me bothered to fuck with me. Probably thought I was riding the H-train, if you know what I mean. Worst part was that I remember every second of it. I was completely lucid. I just couldn’t move a muscle, except to blink. It felt like the worst hangover ever when it finally wore off. That’s when I realized exactly how strong he’d become.”

  “My god,” he breathed, looking at her with newfound respect. “You really are one helluva tracker. And strong as hell to withstand an attack like that.”

  Chelle shot him a suspicious glance. “Sure, letting a murderer slip away time and time again is really quite a feat.”

  “No, I’m serious, Chelle,” he said, catching her gaze and holding as long as safety allowed. “You’re incredible and you should own that shit.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her cheeks pinked up at the compliment. “Oh, I do. I’m just not used to hearing it from my male counterparts.”

  * * *

  Chelle turned her face away to gaze out the window in an attempt to hide her expression from Allon. She could feel the heat rising in her face and she didn’t want him to know how incredibly validating it was to be seen and recognized for once, especially by a male competitor. Over the course of her career—her entire life, really—she’d built up a fortress around her heart to protect herself from pain or disappointment.

  She’d learned to look out for herself, do things on her own terms because she knew without a doubt nobody else could support her the way she supported herself. It was important, even vital, in this industry to keep one’s heart hidden away. It was a hard job that was also her identity, so to have a guy like Allon show her genuine admiration was almost too surprising to handle. Regardless, it was just a compliment, nothing too crazy. No reason to get all worked up.

  Winning was her trophy. The paycheck after the capture was all the hype she needed to keep going…most of the time. But she couldn’t deny how nice it felt for her biggest competitor to recognize her talents. She might not know him well, but she certainly knew him well enough to know he didn’t hand out compliments like candy, which made it all the more… Damn, there was no other word for it than heartwarming.

  They were just two calloused, closed-off people tentatively reaching out across the void, uncertain of how it would feel when they touched. But none of that really mattered anyway. Chelle didn’t need his accolades. Wanting them was different than needing, or so she tried to convince herself. Conceding any kind of control to someone else was more than she could ever allow. At the end of the day, she was the only person she knew without a doubt she could trust.

  To deflect the conversation away from her, she decided it was only fair to give him a compliment in return. “You’re not half bad yourself, you know. I think I might even possibly, maybe, perhaps have some things to learn from you. Maybe.”

  “Oh, I know,” he said in that cocky way he had, tossing in a grin for good measure.

  Arrogant ass! Unfortunately for her, he was a sexy arrogant ass.

  Twenty minutes later, the SUV rolled slowly down the street, searching for the correct house number. They stopped three houses short of Jilleon Anguis’s unassuming bungalow, and Allon cut the engine so they sat in silence. He offered her another danish, which she wrinkled her nose at before chowing down on a cherry-filled one. Why, oh, why were crullers so hard to find on the Left Coast?

  “So,” Allon began, taking a sip of his coffee, “is Danque really, truly all that dangerous? I mean, in comparison to us. Hell, the whole reason we dragon shifters act as law enforcement for Othercross Judiciary is that we’re more powerful than any other sentient beings on the planet, across the board. What secret power does this guy have that we can’t compete with?”

  “As far as we can tell, it’s very specialized. I’ve seen the serious damage his power can do to human mind, which would shock the hell out of you. But judging by what he did to me, he seems to only be able to stun dragons. Sorta like pressing the pause button and then letting go. Which, let’s get real, is pretty fuckin’ dangerous. When you’re lying on the ground, stunned and incapacitated, however brief that moment might be, it’s still a weakness. A chink in the armor. Catch his snaky gaze at the wrong moment, and he can send you hurtling to the earth mid-flight. At the very least, being paralyzed allows him to slither away like the snake he is.”

  “Slimy bastard,” Allon spat and then gave her a more serious look, those eyes piercing straight to her soul. “You know, I really am grateful you saved my ass yesterday.”

  Chelle shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. “No big deal. Don’t worry about it. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “No,” he insisted, reaching out to clasp her hand. Fireworks exploded under her skin at the simple, soft touch. “I’m serious, Chelle. I didn’t have a clue how much danger I was in. I hate to think what might have happened to me if you hadn’t been there.”

  There it was again, that bubbly feeling in her chest. “I guess we do better when we work together, huh?”

  Allon smiled. “Damn straight. This guy is so good at slinking away, I suspect it’s going to take both of us to end him. When we’re not fighting to be the top dog, we make a pretty incredible team. Don’t you think?”

  Chelle’s heart pounded like a sledgehammer as she slowly raised her gaze to meet Allon’s. The softly smoldering fire in his eyes lit her up inside like a match. Suddenly, she needed to be closer to him. As close as humanly possible. And the feeling was definitely mutual.

  But this time, the heated urgency of their previous encounters eased into something more tender. Their mouths met gently, almost sweetly, as their fingers interlaced, both of them sighing and moaning with pleasure. A voice in the back of Chelle’s head warned her this was a foolish move—a mistake. But she couldn’t help herself. Something about the guy kept her coming back for more, despite their vow of chastity. The intense magnetism between them couldn’t be denied. It was too great, too potent. Like a junkie needing a fix, she clung to him as if her life depended on it.

  Knuckles rapped on the window next to her head, jerking them out of their lovely, warm cocoon. Chelle whipped her head around to see who could possibly have the temerity to interrupt a couple making out in the front seat, assuming it would be a cop. Instead she was met by a face that looked more like a saddle than a man. Rheumy grey eyes sparkled with amusement, as they seemed to do every time she saw them.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Allon panted as he peered over her shoulder.

  “Mother—” Chelle started and then pressed the button to lower the window. “Seriously, Klent? Is this how you get your rocks off, ya ol’ perv?”

  Chapter Eight

  Allon wasn’t the kind of guy who typically beat up on the elderly, so to speak, but the lanky cowboy smirking in at them like some kind of creepy stalker was damn sure making the prospect tempting. That insufferable smile confirmed everything that worried Allon. He’d never been the type to get embarrassed over getting caught making out in the front seat of his car with a hot girl, but getting busy on a stakeout? Yeah, Charlie wouldn’t be amused about that, even if all of his coworkers would laugh their asses off. />
  The Gunslinger chuckled at Chelle’s rude greeting. “Oh, just doin’ my neighborly duty and makin’ sure a couple of dragondom’s finest aren’t gettin’ into any trouble. Reckon I could ask you two the same thing, stalkin’ some poor old woman’s house like this.”

  “You know damn well what we’re out here to do,” Chelle rested her cheek on her hand in the window and narrowed her eyes in a dark glare at the bastard.

  Allon leaned over to get a better look at the guy. “But if you keep following us like this, Mr. Ellwood, I might be tempted to think you’re keeping an eye on us for inspiration.”

  “Whatever helps ya sleep better at night,” he drawled, jamming his hands in his pockets with his thumbs through the belt loops. “Course, iff’n it were me, I might think stakin’ out Hometown Savings to be the smarter move. You know, the bank nestled down there between the Halfway Inn and the Master Baiter?”

  For the first time, Allon got a good look at Klent’s huge, gleaming belt buckle. From his angle, it looked like two crossed pistols with dragonfire blooming out of the tips of each.

  “Hear their interest rates can’t be beat,” Klent said with a wink. “And their parking lot is more secluded to boot. Just sayin’.”

  He tapped the roof of the SUV before turning and strolling away.

  “You ever look at the way a guy walks and think—”Allon started.

  “That it’s a textbook saunter, no other way to describe it?” Chelle finished, staring after the guy in the rearview mirror.

  Allon glanced in the rearview mirror, but Klent was gone. Part of him expected to see a tumbleweed blowing past.

  “Maybe the old codger’s got a point,” he pondered out loud, though the look Chelle gave him suggested he was a dumbass.

  “Dumbass! Do you never learn? He’s doing the same thing I did to you last time we were after the same guy, trying to lure you with a decoy.”

  “You think he’d do that?”

  “He’s totally trying to throw us off Danque’s trail,” she said with an eyeroll for added emphasis. “He wants us to chase our tails so he can swoop in and steal the glory—and the bounty—out from under our noses.”

  Allon’s jaw clenched as he recalled their last competition, when Chelle had texted asking for his help capturing the suspect and offering to split the reward. It had turned out to be a ruse to keep him far from where the criminal was, allowing her to win. He really did feel like a dumbass then, and he certainly didn’t want a repeat of that particular performance. But Klent’s tip didn’t seem so far-fetched.

  “Alright, let’s think it through,” he said, and Chelle nodded for him to go on. “What’s the downside of checking out Hometown Savings?”

  “That Slinger back there will swoop in and catch Danque when he comes to his aunt’s house minutes after we leave to dick around at a dead end.”

  God, he loved her bluntness.

  “Sure,” Allon granted, “but didn’t we find something about Halfway Savings somewhere? Why is that ringing a bell for me?”

  Chelle looked annoyed, but miraculously not at him. “It’s tickling something in the back of my brain, too. Damn, wish we could drink on stakeout. A beer might jog free that memory.”

  Allon snapped his fingers, face lighting up as he remembered mocking Chelle with a crushed beer can in the dumpster behind the motel. “Got it! It was that blank deposit slip in the motel garbage.”

  His dragony senses tingled, and he guessed by the wrinkle that cut a trench between her eyebrows she was feeling it too. “You don’t suppose he gave us a real tip. Do you?”

  Chelle shook her head, but not out of disagreement. “Hard to believe, even for Danque. The bank is two buildings down from the motel. What kind of dipshit would pull something so close to the hideout he was rousted from?”

  “Snakes like to hide in plain sight,” Allon pointed out.

  “Yeah, but like you bitched about the entire time we were searching through that garbage, we don’t even know if any of that was his trash. It was on the surface. Wasn’t it? What, do you think Danque just like… calmly came back to his motel room to take the trash out before the skip tracers showed back up to take him in?”

  “Not like that, but I could see him trying to cover his tracks.”

  “It could have been from anyone at the motel is my point.”

  Chelle tipped her head to the side, curls cascading over her shoulder and catching the sunlight like it was on fire. At that moment, Allon realized it was taking more and more effort to keep his hands off her. Tension filled the car as they debated back and forth like foreplay. Feeling the resistance her mind put up when they were trying to put their heads together was oddly soothing, and even as he felt himself getting a little agitated, he liked it, and that just made him want to keep it up.

  “It’s probably a long shot, but the alternative is sitting here watching an old lady’s house in hopes he’ll make an appearance.”

  “Jesus,” she sighed, “you wanted to come here in the first place!”

  “All I’m saying is maybe we should keep our options open.” He paused to drain the rest of his coffee. At the click of Chelle’s seatbelt coming unbuckled, he swallowed and coughed as he watched stunned.

  Chelle was already climbing out. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Fuck it, I’mma go knock on her door,” she said with a mischievous grin. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  * * *

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Chelle’s heart hammered away like mad, so loud it sent blood rushing through her ears. She could only hope it wasn’t as loud to Allon as it was to her. The last thing she needed right now was for him to second-guess her courage, especially since she was starting to second-guess it herself. That was unusual, the mark of a truly difficult assignment. It didn’t help that she knew the torture of Danque’s freeze ray firsthand.

  Usually, Chelle’s mind was totally free of the reflexive self-deprecation a lot of women in the field experienced. She’d built up her own strength and determination so doggedly that by now, it was actually more difficult for her to admit defeat than to suffer extreme risk and consequence. She would sooner leap off a cliff than concede a battle, which was why she had worked so hard to beat Allon.

  A thread of visceral danger would always run through each and every assignment she took on. No question about that. Each case brought its own peculiarities. Each case was an opportunity for trouble to rear its ugly head and put her in the hospital…or worse. It was precisely the kind of danger Chelle was accustomed to.

  Hell, she thrived on it. The thrill of a narrow escape or a harrowing chase was enough to set her nerves ablaze and make her feel more alive than ever before. It was an addictive high she couldn’t help chase from one assignment to the next. And the pay-off at the end was basically another drug of choice—money. The whole operation was so exciting and fulfilling, Chelle rarely took a moment to really consider just how deep in she’d fallen. This was her life. This was her world. And she needed to be prepared for anything that might happen.

  Despite the devil-may-care attitude she put on as Allon walked up the front steps of Jilleon Anguis’s cute little bungalow with her, Chelle couldn’t stop thinking of the worst that could happen. Danque could answer the door and stun them with his weird magical gaze. He could knock them flat and then slither over their stunned bodies to escape into the wilds of the city.

  Or kill them.

  Speaking the words could jinx them. Plus, she didn’t want to show that side of herself to Allon, the side that still got scared of boogeymen. At least boogeymen like Danque Anguis. So she kept her big mouth shut and pushed her anxiety into a dark corner of her heart. She wasn’t some frightened hothouse flower. She was Chelle Calidi, the best damn fugitive recovery agent in the world. Time to prove it.

  Stomping up the cracked and neglected concrete steps, she pounded on the aged security door with a closed fist. The rusty
metal rattled and banged far louder than her beating, with flakes of black paint drifting to the faded welcome mat. In contrast to Allon’s completely mellow attitude, Chelle bounced from foot to foot, anxious for the old woman to drag her decrepit ass to the door. She wished she could chill a bit while also keeping her wits about her, like him. What would it feel like to keep a cool head right up to the moment of battle? Considering her history, she’d never find out. If Chelle was anything, she was a shoot first and ask questions later kinda gal.

  Soft, shuffling footsteps approached the door slowly. So slowly! Relief washed over her that those footsteps likely didn’t belong to Danque. Sure enough, when the hundred or so deadbolts were released and the front door cracked open a smidge, a pinched, lined face of a frail old lady looked out. Confusion, suspicion, and fear lurked in her cloudy eyes.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hate to bother you, Miss Jilleon,” Chelle said before Allon could speak, “but we need to know if you’ve seen your nephew recently.”

  Jilleon blinked away the flash of terror in her eyes before sighing sadly. “You must be talking about Danque.”

  The impatience Chelle had been feeling evaporated instantly. This poor woman had seen some things, that much was obvious, and they were things she didn’t like. She didn’t need Chelle’s tendency for bluntness right now. She needed understanding and kindness. In fact, the woman’s tiny frame and grey hair cut short and tinted a vague shade of purple reminded Chelle of her own grandmother, Nona. If strangers pounded on Nona’s door asking hard questions, Chelle would have kicked their asses to Timbuktu and back again.

  Taking a calming breath, Chelle smiled at Jilleon. “I’m sorry, Miss Jilleon, how rude of me. My name is Chelle Calidi and this is my…associate, Allon Wyvern. You probably can guess why we’re here.”