by Keri Arthur
Leon absorbed that news with barely a flicker of his eyelids. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Like hell he didn’t. Damon obviously thought the same, because the glow around his fingers flared again.
Leon screamed. “He saw Hannish! We had no choice.”
“So he is behind the push to take over the Nevada clique and make it one of the largest?”
Again, there was little reaction, but the sudden flash of fear riding the air spoke volumes. “Why would Hannish want that? He and his dad aren’t even on speaking terms.”
“But if Marcus suddenly dies, Hannish steps in as king. And with his recent land purchases, he suddenly becomes large enough—and powerful enough—to take over as head of the council.”
Damon’s voice was matter-of-fact, like we had all the pieces of the puzzle in hand when in truth it was little more than guesswork.
“Why would Hannish be stupid enough to kill his king? The council wouldn’t look kindly on such a deed.”
“The council has been known to turn a blind eye, especially if other cliques back the move.”
Leon snorted. “And in what world is that likely to happen? The cliques I know wouldn’t support a murdering upstart.”
“They would if some of them were also controlled by other murdering upstarts.” Damon raised an eyebrow. “Just when does Seth plan to kill his king?”
Leon didn’t answer. Damon glanced at me. “You want to go up to his office and sort through his paperwork? It’s through the door to the left of the bar, and up the stairs.”
In other words, things were about to get a whole lot messier down here, and I probably wouldn’t want to see it. He was right about that. Feeling little sympathy for Leon, and half wishing it were Seth lying there, I turned and walked through the open door at the end of the bar.
As I did so, Leon screamed. I closed my eyes for a second, part of me savoring the sound and part of me hating it. Because in many ways, it made us no better than those men, and that was a vile realization. Even if we were doing it in the name of justice.
And yet, if we didn’t, more would suffer. And all those people who died in Stillwater and Desert Springs would not be alone in roaming the netherworld between this existence and the next.
Thankfully, the screams didn’t follow me up the stairwell. I lit a flame across my fingertips, the light penetrating the darkness just enough to see. The old metal stairs were grimy and creaked under the weight of each step. The door at the top was also metal, although dented and holed in several places. Evidence, perhaps, of unhappy customers or deals gone bad.
I opened the door cautiously, keeping to one side until I was absolutely sure no one else was inside. The room was as dingy as the rest of the place, and again smelled heavily of cigarette smoke. A large desk dominated the middle of the room and the walls were adorned with bulletin boards. There were several windows directly opposite the doorway, but these had been boarded up. Leon obviously had some pretty nasty enemies if he felt the need to avoid sunlight, especially given that it was the fuel for a dragon’s flames.
But then, maybe Leon relied more on his brawn and human weapons than his flames to protect himself.
I walked behind the desk and sat down on the old leather office chair. The desk was a mess. Loose papers sat in various unwieldy stacks among the Coke cans, take-out wrappings, and several overflowing ashtrays. I wrinkled my nose at the moldy, smoky smell, then grabbed the nearest stack and began sifting through it. It was nothing more than bills and other business stuff. The remaining stacks proved to be more of the same.
I tried the drawers next, and found his wallet in the top one. A quick investigation uncovered three driver’s licenses and eight credit cards, all in different names, none of them Leon’s. Seth was probably also using numerous aliases, which is why Leith had been unable to track him.
I tossed it back and continued searching the drawers. Other than a cache of weapons that included knives as well as guns, there didn’t seem to be anything of interest.
But maybe Damon already knew that. Maybe his intent in sending me up here was nothing more than a need to get me out of the way.
I leaned back in the chair and studied the room again. My gaze fell on one of the bulletin boards, and there, right in front of my eyes, was the information I’d been looking for.
It was a map of Nevada.
Excitement surged and I leaped to my feet. Six towns had been ringed, five of them crossed out. Two of those five were the erased towns we knew about. The remaining one was a little place called Red Rock—not a place I’d heard of, but that wasn’t surprising given these places were basically little more than bumps in the road that few people would drive past, let alone visit.
Along with the ringed and crossed-out towns were what looked to be boundary markings. The lands owned by the Nevada clique were shaded in black, but there were huge tracts of land between it and the towns that were either shaded in or marked by a red or yellow pin. I couldn’t see a legend of any kind, but if Damon’s theory was right, then those markings represented land already bought, being purchased, or wanted. If they succeeded in getting everything that was marked, then they’d own a sizeable chunk of land. It would certainly rival that of the three largest cliques, and would make Nevada the largest once the land was combined.
I searched the drawers again until I found two different colored pens, then set about replacing the pins with colored dots. With that done, I took down the map, folded it up and shoved it in my pocket. It was a start.
I continued searching, but I didn’t see anything else that stood up and waved a clue. I couldn’t find any sort of legal document—especially not anything relating to land purchases. Nor was there anything to suggest that Leon was working with anyone else.
But he had to be. Leon wasn’t the voice I’d heard when I’d been half drugged, and Angus had referred to that man as the “boss.”
Besides, Leon had always been the brawn, not the brain.
Which meant there had to be something else here. Frowning, I stood with my hands on my hips, studying the room and wondering what I was missing. It wasn’t possible that someone so involved in this mess would have nothing more than a map in his main office.
Presuming this was his main area of work, of course.
I scanned the walls again, looking for anything that might be hiding a safe. But there was nothing.
Frowning, I turned around, looking at the placement of the furniture. I couldn’t see him going to the effort of dragging out filing cabinets every time he wanted to get something out or put something in a safe. But a drinks cabinet had definite possibilities.
I walked over and opened a couple of doors. There were several racks of glasses and bottles of alcohol, but nothing that couldn’t be easily shifted. And despite the fact that the cabinet was both heavy and old, it wouldn’t be that hard to move. Not for a dragon.
I shoved my weight against one edge and forced the cabinet away from the wall. Sure enough, there was a safe behind it. I squatted, studying the lock. It wasn’t particularly up to date, and even if it had been, it wouldn’t have stopped a determined dragon. Or a half-dragon.
I cracked my knuckles, then set to work and had it open in a couple of minutes—almost triple the time my brother would have taken, but then he was a professional. I just played at it occasionally.
I opened the door. Inside sat several manila folders, some bulging with papers, others not.
I grabbed them all, shut the door and tumbled the locks closed, then moved the cabinet back. I grabbed the map, shoved it on top of the folders, then headed back down the stairs.
Leon wasn’t moving. His skin was ashen, a sharp contrast to Damon, who seemed to positively glow.
“What are you going to do with him?” I stopped several yards away and studied Leon’s chest. He was breathing, so he wasn’t dead, and I wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that or not. If anyone deserved to die, it was him. But if he was kille
d, then people would know, and that was the one thing we needed to avoid. “We can’t afford to leave him here alive, and we can’t risk taking him with us.”
“Which is why I’ll be flying him out to sea.”
And Leon wouldn’t be flying back, if the angle of his arm was anything to go by. He’d drown, because few dragons were good swimmers and Leon was worse than most. His death would be long and pain-filled, and I really couldn’t get upset about that, if only because we needed as much time as possible before Seth realized his lover was dead.
But his death was one of the ones I needed to save Rainey.
“I found a safe filled with paperwork,” I said, “and a map that might prove useful if we can find the key.”
“Good. Go back to the apartment and sort though those papers. I’ll be back by seven.”
Meaning he was going to fly Leon a long way out to sea. “Be careful.”
He gave me a smile that made my insides curl, but his eyes were still hard. Still doing the job, still concentrating on the kill, even if he hadn’t yet killed.
“Keep an eye on the windows, Mercy, and see who else comes into the club.”
I nodded, then turned and headed out. Once back in the apartment, I made myself coffee then settled down to read the paperwork. I started with the thinner folders, but it wasn’t until I was on my third cup and had started in on the fattest of the folders that I found something.
And it was the one thing I didn’t want to find.
The town of Red Rock was slated for destruction.
In less than six hours’ time.
Chapter Twelve
God, we had to stop it from happening. Had to.
And yet even if we flew there, what could one draman and one muerte do against the force that these people seemed to have behind them? Damon might be a trained assassin, but all it would take would be one bullet to bring him down, and I had no doubt these men would do just that. After all, it was what they’d done to Angus, and he’d been far less dangerous.
We needed help.
I ran to the phone and quickly dialed Leith’s number.
He answered on the second ring. “Phoenix Investigations, Leith Nichols speaking.”
“It’s Mercy again.”
He reacted to the note of panic in my voice, his own filled with urgency. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know of a place called Red Rock in Nevada? And if so, how long will it take me to drive there from San Francisco?”
“Hang on, I’ll google it.” The sound of tapping keys came down the line, and after a few seconds, he added, “Okay, you’re looking at a good eight-hour drive from San Francisco. Why is this information so vitally important and why do you seem so stressed?”
“Because Red Rock is slated to be destroyed at midnight, meaning we need to contact someone in that town ASAP to see if we can arrange an evacuation.”
“Shit.” Leith blew out a breath. “Where’s your muerte?”
“He’s not my anything, and right now he’s flying Leon—the man running under the alias of Jake—out to sea.”
“Why the hell didn’t he just kill him?”
“Because that would tell his kin something was wrong, and we need to avoid that right now.”
“Fuck, Mercy, you’re dealing with seasoned criminals here. The men behind all this probably already know you have him.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Can you help me with Red Rock?”
“I’ve got some friends in Las Vegas who might be able to fly out there, but it’s going to be a close thing to get everyone out in time.”
“All the inhabitants have to do is take flight.” Except that not every draman could take flight, and our felons might already be watching the roads.
“Mercy, if this town is a target, the inhabitants won’t be able to come back until these bastards have been dealt with. And most of them can’t go back to their cliques, either. These towns are rogue establishments for a reason, remember?”
“I remember. But it’s better to be homeless for a while than dead for an eternity.” Not to mention their spirits roaming the void between this life and the next. Because unless Damon and I could solve these crimes in the allotted time, that would also be their fate, just like it had been the fate of everyone in Stillwater and Desert Springs.
I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the fact that I had only two days left to solve Rainey’s murder. I could do it. I would do it.
“Look,” Leith said, frustration in his voice. “I’ll make some phone calls and see what I can arrange. No promises.”
“I know, and thanks.” I hesitated, then added, “And because we are dealing with criminals and thugs, you’d better warn whoever goes out there to be very, very careful. It’s likely these people have scouts.”
“They might, but they’ll keep any reaction discreet. Whatever this operation really is, secrecy appears to be the key.”
“I hope you’re right.” And yet instinct suggested he wasn’t. Not entirely. This operation was too big, too planned, to be left to chance. I wouldn’t put it past them to just shoot as many draman as they could. After all, who would the draman report the crime to? The knowledge that we could never go to—or trust—human authorities was too ingrained, and there were few of us who put any faith in the dragon council to help out. “Damon and I will be heading out there as soon as we can.”
“Just be careful, Mercy. If they see the town being evacuated, they might realize you were behind it. And have a trap waiting.”
“I know. I’ll phone you later to give an update.”
“You’d damn well better.”
He hung up. I put the phone back in its cradle, then spun and headed for the bedroom, searching until I found a backpack. In it I stashed some clothes and the stolen papers from Hannish’s office. Once filled, I dumped it beside my other pack, then grabbed the netbook, firing it up to do a search for Red Rock while I waited for Damon to get back.
He was as good as his word, and arrived just before seven. He came in the door looking drawn and tired, but his smile was one of pure delight when his gaze met mine.
As if he was truly happy to see me. Like it meant something that he was back with me.
And it made my insides quiver, even if I knew the emotions so evident in his expression weren’t likely to last. He’d warned me of that. Warned me he wouldn’t get attached, no matter what.
I believed him. I had to. I’d been hurt too greatly in the past by reading too much into a gesture or a smile to be taken in by such things now.
His gaze swept me and the smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
I handed him a cup of coffee. “There’s another draman town slated for destruction in five hours.”
“Fuck.” He thrust his free hand through his damp hair. “How long is it going to take us to drive there?”
“Longer than we’ve got,” I replied grimly. “I called Leith and asked him to get someone down there to warn the people. Hopefully, they’ll evacuate before the hit men arrive.”
“We can’t chance that.” He downed some coffee, then added, “We’ll have to fly out.”
I frowned at the weariness in his voice—the same weariness that was so evident in the set of his shoulders. “Are you going to have enough energy?”
His smile was warm. “Of course I will. It’s just that a certain insatiable woman kept me up most of last night and then wore me out this afternoon.”
I grinned. “I didn’t hear any protests at the time.”
“No sane man would have made such a protest.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. “And despite rumors to the contrary, I am sane.”
“Says the man who took off in dragon form in the middle of a suburban street,” I said, voice wry. “I’ve packed us a bag—but if you think you’ll need guns, we’ll have to grab those handguns you’ve got stashed in the car.”
“Good idea.” He finished his coffee in several gulps that must have scalded his tongue, then walked pas
t me and dumped the cup in the sink. “It’s going to be cold up there. I’d wrap up some more.”
“I can flame at night, remember, so I can keep myself warm.”
“But not dry. It’s raining.”
“It is?” I glanced at the darkened windows and saw that he was right. I’d been so caught up in worry that I hadn’t even noticed.
“And your flames aren’t going to do much to keep the rain off,” he said, amused, “so do me a favor and find yourself a coat.”
I rolled my eyes but did as he asked and headed back into the bedroom. It took a couple of minutes, but I finally found a coat that was thick and waterproof.
“I looked up Red Rock on the net while I was waiting,” I said, shoving the coat on as I walked back out. “The nearest town is a place called Elko—”
My words faded and a sick feeling invaded my stomach as I walked into an empty kitchen. Damon wasn’t there. I turned around and walked into the living room, but that was empty as well. In fact, I couldn’t feel the heat of him anywhere in the apartment.
“Damon?” I called, knowing he’d gone and yet not wanting to believe he could just walk out like that.
No answer came. Not that I expected one.
My gaze fell on a piece of paper sitting on the coffee table, and I walked over to pick it up.
Sorry, Mercy, but this is going to be dangerous, it said, and I just won’t risk you. Wait here for me. Please.
“Wait here indeed,” I muttered, screwing up the note and throwing it back down on the table in disgust.
Waiting wasn’t going to track down the man behind these killings.
Waiting wasn’t going to save Rainey’s soul.
And no damn please added to the end of the note was going to change either of those facts.
I grabbed the backpacks, slung them over my shoulder, and bolted for the door. When I hit the stairs, I ran down, not up. A dragon didn’t take long to shift shape and fly, so there was no point in going to the roof. My best bet now was the car. I wouldn’t get there in time to be of any help, but at least I’d get there. And I still had all the paperwork, so if Damon had totally abandoned me, at least I could continue my investigations.
