In Deep Shift: The Protectors Unlimited Book Three

by Blackwood, Keira

  “Mia Blake,” he called. “Look what you did. Good work.”

  “I brought the dragon, Drexel,” she said. “Now I want my answers.”

  Drexel. That was the name Roadkill had used. This was the man who had hired the Obsidian Claws to retrieve the cube from the warehouse.

  With a flex and a twist, I tested the ropes. They were tight, but they were only rope.

  “What’s to stop him from shifting?” the man asked, still shielded behind the bright lights. The details of his form were hidden, and I could only make out his silhouette.

  “Magic,” Mia said. “Enchanted rope.”

  “Either you’re exceptionally clever, or exceptionally stupid,” Drexel said. “Either way, you’ve brought me my dragon.”

  I held myself still and said nothing.

  The lights cut out and Drexel stepped forward.

  His dark hair was trimmed short and a gray beard framed his hard face. The cowboy boots on his feet clashed with the expensive suit he wore. And he, too, carried the scent of a wolf.

  “So you’re going to lock up that weapon, now, right?” Mia asked. “Make sure it’s safe in some secret facility somewhere?”

  “You think that’s what comes next?” Drexel laughed. There was no humor in it, no smile on his face. “I used you, both of you. And now I’ll get what I always wanted. I get to destroy every single dragon that still clings to this earth, every hidden monster waiting for their chance.”

  Mia stepped forward, keeping herself squarely between me and the wolf shifter. I didn’t care for that. Better her safe somewhere else, or at least behind me. But this was her plan, and I was trying to respect that.

  “Their chance for what? You think that will solve something?” Mia asked. “You think that you can just kill an entire species of shifter and all your problems will be fixed?”

  Of course he did. No one sought the dragonkiller if he didn’t think it would be worth it. This man, for whatever reason, believed that killing us was the best choice. He believed that it was worth prison, or he believed that there wouldn’t be consequences.

  No matter what happened from this point, Mia wasn’t safe. This had been a mistake.

  “The rest of them took half measures. Our ancestors sealed the dragons away because they didn’t have the guts to do what needed to be done. But I do.” Drexel’s face darkened, his smile contorting into a sneer.

  “The ones that are free, they’re in hiding,” Mia said. “They’re no threat to you.”

  “They can’t be allowed to hide anymore. This ends now.”

  He had no solution to offer us. And now, the weapon was within his reach.

  I twisted my wrists slowly, forcing the rope taut.

  Mia’s heart raced—I could hear it. I could smell her fear, though she didn’t let it show.

  Deep inside I could feel the pressure boiling, destruction on the brink of tipping over. I had to hold on. Giving in was death.

  Mia took a step closer to Drexel. “How do you take the device when it’s attached to him? How are you supposed to get it off to use it?”

  There it was—her plan. Ask nicely and hope the enemy betrays his plan. Hope beyond reason that he has the answers she was searching for.

  “Take it off?” Drexel laughed. “There is no taking it off. He is the weapon. All we have to do is piss him off.”

  “What?” Mia asked.

  The dragonkiller burned, silver overtaken by red. The runes glowed blue, in magical fluorescence—that hadn’t happened before. Or maybe I just hadn’t noticed. Soon, the fire would come. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to control it.

  “Run!” I yelled, but it was too late.

  The driver grabbed Mia. She kicked and hit, but he was too strong.

  “Mia!” I ran forward, shoved Drexel from my path.

  His laughter filled the night.

  Rage pumped through my veins as they dragged her into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut and the driver hit the gas.

  The rope snapped and I grabbed the bumper.

  The sound of dark laughter continued, taunting, relentless. Blood pulsing in my ears along with their sickening laughter.

  The metal whined and bent as I held tight to the bumper and didn’t let go. The tires squealed as the van peeled out of the alley.

  I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. Needles stabbed into my neck, into my shoulders.

  Not needles—claws and fangs. Drexel.

  The wolf behind me snarled.

  I reached over my shoulder to grab the beast, but he fell away from me on his own. As the dragonkiller spread, there was no flesh left for him to hold onto—only metal.

  None of that was important. All that mattered, the one thing in the world that meant anything to me, was Mia.

  Fear compelled me, twisting my guts. Energy pumped through my veins and fury fueled me as I pressed forward.

  The van slowed as it neared a red light, then cut hard as it turned.

  It was losing me. They were getting away. At this pace, I was too slow. I couldn’t save her.

  My body was fire, unfiltered rage, pure energy.

  Wings burst from my back and I tore through the street. All that mattered was saving her, the rest of the world be damned.

  The van weaved through traffic, cutting off a motorcycle, then a truck. The truck swerved and hit a lamppost, while the motorcycle crashed and slid into oncoming traffic. Pedestrians screamed and ducked off the sidewalks into buildings and onto side streets. The world was chaos, but none of it mattered. Only Mia mattered.

  It was working—I was gaining on them. Not much farther. I was almost there, almost to Mia.

  With a hard flap of my wings, I burst forward, slamming hard into the side of the van.

  Metal screeched as the box tipped. The driver’s side scraped across the blacktop.

  My wings tucked in as I landed on top of the passenger side. With metal fists, I tore at the door. The handle broke, so I ripped apart the metal. It whined as it gave to my strength, to my will.

  Mia.

  There was only Mia. Mia and flames.

  Like an aluminum can, the vehicle broke, metal peeling from the chassis.

  My chest heaved with ragged breaths, adrenaline pumping through me.

  Death. I wanted them dead.

  Inside, the driver lay unconscious in the front seat. But in the back, there was another, a Tribunal shifter who stood between me and the woman who meant the world to me—my mate.

  Terror in his eyes, the man stared at me.

  “Wait, don’t—”

  Fuck him. Fuck everything.

  Pulsing fury coursed through my veins, the desire to tear the bastard apart.

  I grabbed the wolf shifter between me and my mate and threw him. I didn’t turn to see what happened to him. He didn’t matter.

  Fire covered the van. It was me. I was the fire.

  Mia lay there, unmoving. Fire burning everywhere. I reached down, but my hands were flames.

  I couldn’t touch her. I couldn’t save her.

  Agony was a moment, a realization. It was me.

  “Nona!”

  People stopped around us and stared, cars crashed. Sirens echoed in the distance. Voices all around us, screams as the fire spread. But all I could see was Mia.

  Everything was numb, cold. All I could feel was my face, the skin above my chin, and utter desperation. It was over for me, but it didn’t have to be over for her.

  “Nona!”

  “Ready for that wish?” The catbird hovered in the air in front of me, miraculously unscathed—a tiny thing of orange fur and black feathers.

  “I wish for Mia’s safety,” I said. “Let her be okay.”

  The sprite nodded. “Granted.”

  With that, both Mia and the sprite disappeared.

  Like ice, the cold crept up my neck, over my mouth, my nose, my eyes.

  All that was left was fire.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mia


  Violent bursts of crimson heat—there was no escape.

  Dragon’s flames are meant to be majestic, magical, beautiful. This was something else, something twisted.

  Zane didn’t control the fire. The fire controlled him. It controlled everything, and it was everywhere.

  There was no going back. Dragonkind was doomed to extinction. Were the rest of us any better off? I would never get the chance to really know Zane, to grow old by his side, to wake up to him in bed beside me.

  It was over. All was lost.

  Something changed. There was no heat, no fire, only the cold, dark night. My eyes shot open.

  The ground beneath me was hard and relentlessly rough—blacktop. Where the hell was I and what the hell happened?

  I shook my head, trying to clear it, and forced my eyes to focus.

  It was dark save for the flashing lights on the top of black SUVs parked up ahead. Shifters were everywhere, talking and mulling about by their vehicles.

  I was back in the alley. That wasn’t right. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

  There was Drexel, pressed up against the brick wall. Leonard stood behind him, twisting his arm and slapping on cuffs.

  A big silhouette headed my way. The flashing lights behind him made it difficult to make out his features, but I knew who it was. No one else walked like he had a stick that far up his ass—fellow agent for the Therion Tribunal, my brother Mason.

  “Mia?” He tilted his head and approached.

  I stayed on the ground, woozy, not quite sure I trusted my legs to hold me.

  “Where did you...you weren’t here a minute ago,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t think so either. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.

  Leonard ushered Drexel into the back of a black van. Lincoln was there, too, waving at me as he leaned on one of the SUVs, sunglasses on in the dark like an idiot. This was what was supposed to happen—the cavalry comes in, takes away the bad guy, but only after he explained how we were supposed to remove the device and save Zane.

  Where was Zane?

  “Nona!” My voice was too loud as it shook through my head.

  “Are you okay?” Mason asked.

  I ignored him.

  “Nona!”

  On the ground beside me, the little sprite hopped on her bird feet. Her head hung down, and her eyes were hooded. An uncertain, shaky feeling washed over me.

  “Where’s Zane? Nona, what happened? Where’s Zane?” I realized I was yelling. People turned to look. But I didn’t care.

  “What the fuck is that?” Mason took a step back.

  “It’s over, Mia.” A tear rolled down the sprite’s furry cheek.

  No.

  “What do you mean, it’s over? Nothing’s over. Where’s Zane?”

  “You got what you wanted,” she said. “They’re arresting that turd for stealing from the Tribunal.”

  Sure, that was great, but it didn’t feel like a win. None of it mattered without him. Nothing did.

  “Drexel’s going to serve big time for the whole extermination thing.”

  Extermination.

  “Nona—Where. Is. Zane?”

  “Come on,” she said.

  I rose to my feet and followed the little sprite toward the street.

  “What the hell, Mia?” Mason grabbed my wrist.

  “I can’t—” I pulled, and he let go. I ran past Leonard and Lincoln. I ran past my colleagues, past my family, past the flashing lights and into the street. Concerned voices followed me, questioning. I ignored them.

  There was a witch there, too, the one with the blue hair. Lola—the one who only came out to clean up, make sure the humans forgot what they never should have seen. She was there for the aftermath...

  That’s when I remembered. A flash of images poured through my aching head. This was the way I’d been taken. This was the way the van had driven, when Drexel had baited Zane.

  When he’d used me to—

  There, just past the intersect was crime scene tape, fire trucks hosing water hopelessly into undying flames, a crowd of human onlookers, and a small squad of Tribunal enforcers just beyond them. The containment crew.

  But inside the tape was shattered glass. A van on its side, the top of which was torn to shreds. On the ground beside it was a statue of a man with the wings of a dragon. They reached twice as long as the van in either direction, his arms were held out to the sides, and his head was tilted up toward the sky.

  I ran, shoving past everyone and everything in my way.

  “You can’t be here, lady. Behind the tape, now. The fire...” The voice was distant, a whisper behind the pounding in my head.

  My insides were a twisted mess. Bile rose up my throat.

  A statue and nothing more. That’s all he looked like—a fucking statue.

  Unmoving silver wings were spread where live, blue ones were meant to be. His feet were still, planted in place like stone. I wouldn’t believe it. It wasn’t Zane, it couldn’t be. I had to see his face.

  I ducked under one of the wings and touched his hand. The left was a metal glove, just like the right. His chest was fitted plate, his neck solid metal. His chin was smooth where it was meant to be rough. I held his cheeks in my palms, and they were cool to the touch. He looked like he was waiting, one last prayer, one last wish. I couldn’t let go. I wouldn’t.

  His eyes were closed, but I knew, my worst fears were true. This was Zane.

  I dropped to my knees in devastation.

  Tears poured down my cheeks and my chest heaved as I sobbed. My heart ached like it was a bottomless abyss.

  Zane was my mate. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. We were mates, we were meant to share a life together. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

  Fire tore over the world around us. Sirens blared. But none of it mattered.

  Zane was gone.

  Orange ears popped out from behind Zane’s right boot.

  “Fix it, Nona. Take it back. His wish, Zane didn’t get to—”

  “He did.” Nona cried next to me, tiny tears for the man we’d both lost.

  “No,” I said. “He was supposed to wish the weapon away. He was supposed to be okay.”

  Nona nodded.

  “Take it back. Make him okay.”

  “He made his wish,” Nona said. “But…I can give you one, too. Just one.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  I cupped the little sprite in my palms and lifted her to eye-level. This was it, my only chance.

  “She’s out there, you know,” Nona said.

  I stared at her a moment, not understanding.

  “Your mother,” she said. “I know that’s what you wanted—to see her.”

  “I...”

  She was right. I had thought more than anything that what I’d wanted was to see my mother again. But that was before.

  “That’s not what I want,” I said. “Not anymore.”

  Nona cocked her head sideways.

  “Give me Zane back, back the way he’s supposed to be,” I said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Then what good is your stupid wish to me?”

  “No need to be mean.” She turned her back to me. “I have feelings, you know.”

  I set her down on the ground and stared up at Zane.

  “I’m sorry, Nona,” I said. “I know this isn’t your fault.”

  In part, at least, it was my fault. I should have told him the truth about the plan. We should have worked out the details together. What choices had I made that had helped Drexel and led to this?

  “I wish I could help,” Nona said. “But this magic...there’s no bringing dragons back after this.”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. Of course there wasn’t anything she could do. Not after...

  After.

  A shot of excitement flowed through me, a tiny glimmer of hope. Nona couldn’t do anything after the dragon killer was activated. That left one possibility, a long shot, but I clung to th
at hope with everything that I had.

  “What about before?”

  Again the sprite looked at me like she didn’t understand.

  “I wish Zane had never found that damned dragonkiller. I wish we’d never gone to that underground hellhole.”

  “Granted.”

  Excitement turned to shock and the wind being knocked out of me.

  There was black, just black and nothing else.

  Then there wasn’t. I was standing inside, instead of out in the street. Below my feet was thin gray carpet, on the walls a green wallpaper. This was the Grand Marina.

  The room smelled like fire, like smoke, like Zane.

  There he was, standing in front of me—alive.

  His neck—it was skin, not metal. His arm was normal, too. His right hand—there was no glove. I’d made it. Thank you, Nona!

  “What’d you do?” Zane took a step closer, and pulled something from my hands. I hadn’t realized I was holding anything.

  The cube.

  “No, don’t!”

  Everything shook. My vision, my head, the world trembled, just like it had the first time. Just like it had before the cave.

  “Zane!”

  He grabbed his head and hissed as his knees buckled.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was it, my last chance, my only chance.

  I dove forward, smacking the damned cube out of his hands.

  The metal box tumbled across the floor.

  And the shaking, the vibration—it stopped.

  “Mia, what...why did you...what happened?” His brows furrowed in frustration, in confusion. He looked at me with a mix of emotion. He looked at me.

  I threw my arms around him, and I cried.

  I cried so fucking hard.

  His body grew stiff as if he didn’t know how to react to my touch. I laughed. Zane was fucking alive.

  “I am so glad you’re okay.” I kissed him and he just looked at me like I was crazy. I didn’t care.

  “I’m glad you are okay as well,” he said. “Why are you...have I missed something?”

  I let him go.

  “Maybe, yes. Don’t you remember? The glove, Drexel, the fire...all that was left of you was a metal statue. Yet here you are.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Nona!”