by Amelia Jade
Reaching her home, she forced her hand to stop shaking as she put the key in the lock. Anyone watching her needed to believe she didn’t feel threatened. That she was completely and totally unaware that they were there.
The door opened and she slipped inside, tossing the deadbolt into place. Then she flicked the other two locks closed above and below it. Finally she grabbed the two-by-six bar and lowered that into the metal brackets on either side of the door.
Now she felt somewhat more secure.
“You can’t live the rest of your life like this, Rose. You can’t.”
This was an argument she’d had with herself many times before. It wasn’t a life she wanted to live either. But what more could she do? There were bad people out there in the world, and she’d run afoul of them. They were after her, and wouldn’t stop until they got her, until she undid the damage.
“Not nearly enough damage,” she growled, irritated that the entire thing hadn’t fallen apart as soon as she’d posted the pictures to the internet.
Apparently some random blogger wasn’t enough to force any action to be taken. The public outcry was starting to grow as more and more people realized just what it was she’d stumbled upon, but it was too slow. She needed another way. The newspapers wouldn’t run anything without proof, and the police? Well, they weren’t an option either.
“You need to do something. If they’ve found you, or think they’ve found you, then it won’t be long before they make a move.”
Unless I make a move first.
Running was no longer an option. They’d found her now, after she’d already run from them twice. This time they’d track her, and she wouldn’t have any sort of reprieve. No, Rose needed to change the game, to throw them an unexpected curveball of sorts. The only question was…what?
Her phone buzzed with a notification. Glancing at it, she saw it was an email from a sender she didn’t recognize. But the subject line grabbed her attention immediately. It simply read “Hello, Rose. We know.”
Shit.
There was no more time to think. It was time for action.
“You’re not seriously thinking of doing what you’re thinking of doing, are you?”
You’re my brain. You know damn well what I’m thinking of doing.
“This is not going to end well at all.”
Chapter Three
Stoen
The powerful black SUV pulled to a halt.
Stoen eyed the coordinates he’d been given, and then looked out the window. It was a park. The park of the little town, if he judged correctly. Two soccer fields occupied the far end, while a playground and flat grass filled the left. To the right, or behind him, was a pavilion that looked mostly permanent, with a stage and some concrete standing area.
Why the hell would she want to meet here?
Yawning, he got out of the car. It didn’t really matter why though, because it was Rose, and if she wanted him to meet her in the middle of the ocean, he would have swum out to greet her. Just hearing from her after months of radio silence was wonderful, but when she’d said she wanted to see him, he’d nearly lost his composure. She was coming around!
Hopefully. He still had no idea why she wanted to see him. Approximately twenty-two hours earlier he’d received a call from her, asking for him to come meet her in some small town back home. So he’d hopped on the private jet and headed right back home without delay.
Now he was going on thirty-six hours without much sleep—anything he got on the plane ride didn’t count. Besides, he’d been too jumpy to get anything resembling real rest. His mate had called him. How was he supposed to sleep after that? It was entirely possible she was going to give him a second shot. A chance to fix what he’d screwed up six months earlier.
This time around Stoen wasn’t going to waste it.
He got out of the SUV and slowly moved his gaze over the park. It was still somewhat nasty out, though he didn’t think it was going to rain anymore. The wet ground, combined with the clouds still overhead, and the fact it was the middle of the day all combined to deprive the park of much in the way of traffic.
Either way, he was watching for danger. Rose had called saying she needed his help, and she’d sounded scared. Whatever it was, he was taking it seriously. That was why he was parked on the far side of the park from their meeting spot, and was going to take his time moving through it. Just in case.
A jogger went by, legs soaked in the dedication to the cause. On the sidewalk far off to his left a mom went by pushing a stroller, cover down over her child, and her hood pulled close. Stoen didn’t see anything immediately out of place. Walking slowly, he headed toward the pavilion. The raised stage underneath it had several doors. Bathrooms, he realized after reading the signs. An easy place for someone to hide.
Stoen casually pushed open the door and went in. It quickly became apparent it was empty. All at once his bladder reminded him he’d been on a plane and then come straight here. Irritated by the delay, he quickly relieved himself and washed his hands.
The door squeaked open while he was drying, and someone came through. Stoen’s eyes tracked the newcomer. They were tall, like him, but not nearly as bulky. Still, something about the easy, confident stride screamed danger. He tested the air, almost immediately regretting it with all the…unique…scents in the air.
One in particular stuck out. In the mirror he noticed the newcomer straighten at the same time. Their eyes met through the reflection, and Stoen knew the truth of it. The man was a shifter.
“Good day,” he said slowly, dipping his head in greeting, trying to figure out if this man was friend or foe, or if this was all just a random coincidence.
Yeah, right. Rose calls saying she’s in trouble, and you come to scout out the area nearby and run into a wolf shifter? Coincidences like that don’t happen.
“I didn’t realize there was backup,” the man said, moving to one of the urinals.
Stoen went with it. “You weren’t supposed to,” he said, feigning irritation. “Not unless I was needed.”
“Unless who was needed?” The wolf shifter winked at him.
Going along with the game, Stoen finished drying his hands. He needed more information.
“Are the others in place?”
The wolf shifter was good, but he couldn’t quite keep his face neutral. Stoen realized he’d just said something wrong.
“Who are you?”
“What do you mean? I’m the backup.”
“No you aren’t.” He zipped up his shorts and turned to face Stoen. “If you were, you’d know that I was the only one sent here…”
Stoen rolled his eyes. “Did you really just admit to being here alone? With nobody else to come help?
Once again the other shifter’s face betrayed him. Fear stole over his eyes as he glanced at the door, judging speeds and distances.
“You won’t make it,” Stoen assured him. “It’ll be much easier if you just answer my questions.”
“Who are you?” the shifter hissed. “Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered. “What are you doing here that could go wrong, I wonder.”
Without warning his target made a dash for the door. Stoen caught him in three steps. Instead of trying to stop him though, he aided the man’s momentum. The shifter yelped as he missed his pivot to exit at the door and instead crashed hard into the far wall.
Stoen winced. Under the thin layer of tile it was pure concrete, not even cinderblock. The wolf shifter yelped in pain, but he wasn’t out. Instead he rebounded, whirling with a snap-kick aimed at Stoen’s head.
He put both hands up, grabbed the man’s leg, and stopped it in midair.
“My turn,” he said with a smile, and heaved.
The wolf shifter hurtled through the air, smashing into the mirrors over the sinks and crashed to the ground. Huge shards of glass cascaded down over him, slicing up his head, face and arms, u
ntil he was bleeding from a dozen or more cuts, two of them fairly bad.
“You’re going to pay for that.” Despite the cuts, the downed shifter started grabbing chunks of glass and whipping them at Stoen.
With a snarl he ducked low and brought his arm up in front of him. Silver liquid rolled down his arm and formed itself into a protective shield, hardening just as the first piece of glass shattered against it.
Quicksilver, the power of his kind, and Stoen’s to call upon any time he needed the freezing metal.
Several pieces of glass embedded themselves in the surface, a testament to the power behind the throw. Although he was outclassed, this was no weak wolfling.
“Why are you after her?” he snarled, the shield expanding in size as he walked forward.
Something triggered at the door behind him. Stoen flung his free hand out and two blobs of quicksilver flew across the distance, splashing over the handle and lock, sealing the door tight. Outside someone pounded on the now-immobile door.
Stoen grunted. With his attention momentarily distracted the wolf shifter had thrown himself against the shield. Freezing metal burned his skin, and the shifter howled in pain.
“Tell me!” he bellowed, pressing the shield into his foe and propelling him forward until his back slammed into the tiled wall. The shield flipped its curve around at his command, pinning the wolf shifter to the wall.
“She’ll pay,” was all he could get out of the man.
“Not on my watch,” he promised, throwing the shifter back the other way.
The body soared through the air, landing perfectly on the door. The flimsy metal snapped and the shifter went right through it. Cursing, Stoen rushed after him, but it was too late. He was gone. Angrily he walked back to the mirrors—what was left of them—and proceeded to clean himself up.
Exiting the bathroom, he noticed the jogger from before staring at the broken door, unsure of whether or not to look inside.
“Police business,” Stoen said, flashing his wallet at the man. It contained his government badge, something every dragon shifter carried with him, for situations just like this one. He closed the door, using quicksilver to seal it. He then sent a text message to the local Magistrate, letting him know that he’d just gotten in a fight with a wolf shifter in his territory.
The Magistrates were dragons, assigned by the Enclave to keep watch over areas of their homeland. The Enclave itself was deep underground, under several of the mountains that surrounded the place they called home. It was the biggest and oldest collection of dragons on the planet. They had ruled the area for millennia, and secretly were the ones in charge of running the country as well. That came with certain…privileges.
Until he’d gone overseas to fight the alien Outsiders, Stoen had been a Magistrate as well. He knew Santis, the local Magistrate, purely on a professional level. They’d never had cause to interact, despite the small population of dragon shifters. Still, despite the current town being quite small, the territory also contained one of the major human cities, and was quite a prominent posting. Santis was a dragon to be respected.
Pulling at his clothing, he straightened it up as best he could, wishing he’d spent more time with a mirror. Stoen wanted to make the best second first-impression with Rose that was possible. Every hair had been perfect before he arrived, but now the fight had given him a bit of a roughed-up air.
All that didn’t matter as he spied her in the distance. Walking across the street, her bright blonde hair was immediately visible despite the hat trying and obscure it. He smiled to himself, hauling back on his desire to shout her name and run over to her. That would draw attention that neither of them wanted right now. With the escape of the wolf shifter, it was only a matter of time before he came back with more.
Instead he chose a course that would intercept hers with little fanfare. He’d closed to within twenty yards before she noticed him coming and stopped.
“Rose,” he said quietly, pausing several feet away from her, confidence melting away now that he was actually here, in front of her.
“Stoen.”
They stood around awkwardly, neither sure what to say. The circumstances on which they’d parted half a year earlier left so much unsaid. Stoen in particular had essays’ worth of material he’d thought of in the meantime that he wished to communicate with Rose. Now wasn’t the time for that though. Now was the time for him to speak, to see how she was.
“Ummm.”
Real great start. Think you can do better?
Chapter Four
Rose
“Thank you for coming,” she said, speaking up when it became apparent he would, or could not.
“You said you needed help. I’ll always be here for you,” he said firmly, the confidence returning. “But I can’t stay.”
Rose blinked. “What? Why did you come then if you can’t stay?”
Was this a joke? Had he come to say hello but now he had to leave? Rose had wavered back and forth for nearly an hour before she’d picked up the phone to call him. Maybe she should have spent a little more time on her choice if this is all she was going to get from it.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said with a violent shake of his head, frustrated but not at her.
“Okay. What did you mean?”
“I meant that we can’t stay. We need to go, and get out of sight soon. The fewer delays the better.”
Rose frowned. “What’s going on, Stoen?”
“I encountered someone that was here to take you.”
“What?” She barely kept her voice down, craning her neck around the park, trying to spot anyone that might be after her as panic blasted in her chest.
“I scared them off,” he said, his hands trying to wave her calm. “It’s okay, for now. The wolf shifter didn’t stand a chance. Wolf shifters scare easily, but they’ll be back soon, and in greater numbers too.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Was that a Star Wars reference?”
“A what? No. They operate in packs. One of them can’t stand up to a dragon shifter, but enough can.”
“Stop it with this damn shifter nonsense,” she snapped, losing her cool. “Please. I need your help. I don’t have time for this sort of ridiculousness.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Stoen said stiffly. “Someone was waiting for you. You’re in trouble. What happened, Rose? What changed after I left?”
She shook her head. “This happened before you came into my life. It’s the only reason why you’re in my life.”
If anything her comment grabbed more of Stoen’s attention. He was staring at her now, attentive to every word. It was a little unnerving, but she couldn’t stop now.
“I wasn’t always a librarian,” she explained. “I used to be a private investigator. I was hired to find someone’s husband. He was a miner and he and a few of his work buddies had gone missing, according to the wife. So I followed the tracks, dug up a bit of information, and it led me to this motel. That’s where things got weird.”
“What do you mean?” Stoen was listening but she could see his eyes scanning the park around them slowly at the same time.
“I mean that while I was investigating this group of miners, another group was reported missing. The clues led to the same motel. That’s when I went back, looked at records. This has happened no less than fifteen times. I don’t know how it’s never been in the news, or noticed by the police. It didn’t take me all that long to stumble upon.”
“Stumble upon what?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, frustrated. “Something not very good at a minimum. This has been going on for near fifteen years, based on the records I could find. I spent months researching all this. Finally I started staking out the motel. I set up remote cameras, the works. Very discreetly, because if they kept using the same place, I knew that anyone poking around would be immediately noticed. It took me three months of that before it happened.”
“What hap
pened?”
“I don’t know exactly. Some vans pulled up, people got out. They were in chains, Stoen. They disappeared into the motel. They were like prisoners. I got pictures of course, and video of most of the exchange. But that wasn’t the big break.”
Stoen chewed on his bottom lip. “What was your big break?”
“The people that took the prisoners drove off in their cars. It was at night, and the pictures aren’t enough to necessarily identify anyone by. But the cars, well, those are identifiable, especially license plates.” She grinned. “They came back, Stoen. In the daytime. I got a bunch of pictures of all of them.”
“Good. That should help the police track them down. Why didn’t you turn the pictures in?”
Rose looked away. Memories bubbled up inside her. Shock. Worry. Fear. Terror. A desperate escape…
“I did,” she said at last. “The very next day I printed the pictures and went into the nearest police station, which just so happened to be the district headquarters.”
Stoen held up a hand. “We should be going,” he said, gesturing her to come with him. “My car is this way.”
Rose wasn’t sure how she felt about getting in a car with Stoen. Am I sure about anything when it comes to him? The answer to that was a resounding no. At the same time, he’d been the very first person she’d thought about when considering calling for help. There was no denying that when he was in protector mode, she felt safer than she’d ever been. Such as right now.
“Tell me what happened when you turned in the pictures?” he urged as they walked.
Right. The pictures. “I told the receptionist that I needed to talk to someone about missing persons. A lot of them, a possible kidnapping, human trafficking, I really didn’t know, but they needed to see what I had.” The lady took me seriously, and showed me into an office. I felt relieved. I was doing a good service for these people, and hopefully the police could find them.”
Stoen gripped her shoulder. “What you did was very brave, Rose. It’s not your fault the police couldn’t find them, or said there was nothing they could do. That’s the law.”
