Her dragon whispered, Finally, before watching Rafe go down their tail yet again.
Chapter Sixteen
Rafe was perched on Nikki’s back, about to slide down her tail again, when Aaron Caruso’s voice filled the tent. “I haven’t tried that since I was a teenager. Do you think Nikki would let me have a go?”
Frowning at Aaron’s grin, Rafe growled out, “What do you want, Caruso?”
“I was just going to share some information Zain gained from the prisoners, but if you’d rather lark about, then by all means, do so. The true soldiers can do the dirty work.”
Rafe slid down Nikki’s side and walked up to Aaron. As much as he wanted to punch the dragonman in the face, he demanded instead, “Tell me what you found out.”
Nikki grunted behind him, adding her own demand.
“Well,” Aaron replied, “one of the human males admitted he worked with the dragon hunters. But, and it’s a big but, he says he participated in the attack without their knowledge.”
“How is that even possible? From what we know, Bourne doesn’t allow his hunters to live if they betray him,” Rafe stated.
“True, but the man is with a hunter group from Leeds, which Bourne doesn’t control. They purchased a few cheaper versions of the weapon first used on Tristan almost two years ago. As is common in the hunter groups unaffiliated with Bourne, there’s weak leadership and little direction. The twenty people from today’s attack took matters into their own hands, procured a few weapons, and attacked us,” Aaron explained.
Rafe frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense. Procuring even one of those weapons would cost a bloody fortune. How did they manage three?”
“Zain is trying to find that out.” Aaron’s mobile beeped with a text message alert. After he checked it, he cursed. “We need to watch the news.”
He moved to stand so both Rafe and Nikki could see the small screen of his smartphone. The BBC live video began streaming and a grainy video probably recorded with a mobile phone played, showing a laser blasting Nikki and her subsequent fall.
A male announcer then came on screen. “With the most trusted dragon clan in Britain under attack yet again, the public has been flooding the Department of Dragon Affairs with calls and emails, asking for action. Many feel the attack was a result of the Prime Minister not making a final Director appointment to the DDA since both Houses of Parliament have been unable to agree upon a candidate.
The hearings for the two contenders, Jonathan Christie and Rosalind Abbott, has been long and arduous. While an official word has yet to be released by Abbott, Christie is about to give a live press conference. Let’s go to the scene now.”
The feed switched from the television studio to a podium secured outside the rebuilt DDA headquarters in London. The balding man in his fifties at the podium was Jonathan Christie. Rafe hated everything about the man but pushed aside his anger to focus on his words.
Christie spoke up. “The attack on Clan Stonefire is a blow to us all. The one dragon clan that has proved itself time and again to be civilized and open to negotiations has also become a symbol of hatred and fear. I truly believe the prolonged lack of leadership inside the DDA since our former leader’s tragic death in the terrorist bombing is responsible. I urge the Prime Minister to make an appointment to the DDA. With a firm hand, the dragon hunters, Order of the Dragon Knights, and any others wishing to harm the dragon-shifters will be dealt with swiftly and efficiently.”
Christie paused for applause and Rafe muttered, “The fucking liar. He wants the dragons to cow down to humans. He’s said it before.”
Aaron nodded in agreement before the applause died down and Christie continued.
“Alas, my hands are tied at helping the poor beasts. As Deputy Director, I do not have the authority needed to take care of the attackers. My good people, I urge you to write and call your MPs. Tell them it’s time to put someone in charge of the DDA who can actually make a difference. With pressure, they may be able to convince the Prime Minister to make a decision before more of Stonefire has to suffer at the hands of domestic terrorists.”
More applause and cheers rang out as Christie left the podium. The news announcer’s form returned to the screen. “Christie has put out a call for constituents to make their voices heard. Maybe the will of the people will help solve the issues inside the DDA and save Clan Stonefire from more attacks.”
Aaron exited the streaming video and looked from Rafe to Nikki and back again. “I don’t know about you, but the timing of the attack and Christie’s sympathy speech seems pretty bloody convenient to me.”
Rafe nodded. “I agree. His sudden change of tune smells like a political hat trick to me. Somehow, some way, Christie must be connected to today’s attack.”
Nikki gave a low roar, and the both looked down to her talon tapping the ground. There was one word: prisoners.
Rafe met Nikki’s eye in understanding. He turned toward Aaron. “See if any of the prisoners will confess to a connection to Christie. Also, find out about the man who escaped—he could be a lead later. If we can’t find proof Christie is tied to the hunters and this attack, the man will probably be selected as head of the DDA after that speech.”
Clenching his mobile phone tightly, Aaron answered, “I’m supposed to leave for Ireland tomorrow, too. Kai and Zain will have to work on this while I’m gone.” He looked between Rafe and Nikki. “However, I think you two should help. With Rafe’s army contacts and resources, we might be able to speed the process along.”
“Provided I can keep my superiors from finding out the true reasons why I’m sniffing around some dragon hunters, it may work.”
“Just don’t get yourself thrown out of the army, Hartley.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded sincere.”
“Of course it’s sincere. After all, if the Ministry of Defence develops a way to defend against the laser guns, I want to know.”
Rafe shook his head. “And here I thought you appreciated my skills.”
Nikki bumped his back with her snout before he petted it with his hands. “I know you appreciate them, Nikki.”
Aaron pocketed his phone. “Right, then. I’ll leave you two be. I hope by the time I come back from Ireland, you’ll have the whole Christie issue sorted.”
“I’d almost say that was a challenge.”
Aaron smiled. “Good. Then we’ll see who accomplishes their mission first.”
Nikki growled and Aaron laughed as he left. Rafe turned toward his dragonwoman and resisted laughing at the look in her eyes. “I know you’re thinking ‘males’ inside your head. But challenges and joking around is the male equivalent of hugs and warm feelings.”
Nikki shook her head and he chuckled.
Tracing some words in the dirt, Nikki moved her paw aside when she was done. Can we get Christie?
“I hope so. Because if he becomes DDA Director, I have a feeling my future on Stonefire isn’t guaranteed.”
Nikki hissed through her teeth. Stroking the side of her neck, he murmured, “Don’t worry. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s reconnaissance and strategizing. There has to be a way to catch Christie. There just has to be.”
As Nikki leaned her head against his body, Rafe was careful to keep any doubts he had to himself.
Chapter Seventeen
Aaron Caruso would’ve preferred flying to County Donegal in Ireland, but Clan Glenlough’s leader, Killian O’Shea, had forbidden it.
So instead of gliding through the night sky at a quick pace, he was stuck driving a hired saloon car along the country roads and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he trudged along. “How do humans stand being inside these slow machines so much?”
One of the Protectors accompanying him on the trip, Quinn Summers, chuckled. “Patience was never one of your strengths, which makes your choice of career an odd one.”
Aaron’s dragon spoke up. Why does everyone keep saying that to us?
Beca
use it’s true.
His beast huffed. We are still a good Protector, which is all that matters.
Rather than have the same, pointless argument he’d had with his dragon before, Aaron answered Quinn. “I can be patient if it requires it. But each second we spend at this ridiculous speed gives the hunters that much more time to attack before we can prepare for it. I may know little about O’Shea, but the enemy of my enemy is most assuredly my friend in this case.”
Quinn looked to his smartphone. “We’re nearly there at any rate if the directions are correct. Are you sure about this, Aaron? I don’t like facing a new clan in the dark.”
The phone said to make a right turn, so Aaron complied. “It’s more common in Europe than the UK. I found that out in Italy. Something to do about avoiding human notice. Things aren’t quite so friendly elsewhere as in Northern England and Scotland.”
Aaron had spent nearly two years living with his mother’s clan in Italy and had only recently returned to Stonefire.
Quinn sighed. “It’s only bloody Ireland, not Italy. A few centuries ago, we were allies with the bastards.”
“That was before the partition of Ireland. If the Northern Irish clan knew we were here, they’d report us to the British DDA and cause trouble. I just want to get in, convince Killian to listen to our bloody warning, and leave. Kai can sort out the details. He’s much better at that than I am.”
Quinn snorted. “I won’t argue with that.”
He shot his friend a look, but when Quinn shrugged, Aaron couldn’t help but smile again. “You’re just jealous I won our year six flying competition. It’s been nearly twenty years. I think it’s time to let it go, Quinn.”
“Considering I won it the next two years, I would think you’d be the one needing to let it go,” Quinn pointed out.
“I would challenge you to a rematch, but I know your mate wouldn’t like it.”
“Vivian probably wouldn’t have cared a year ago. But now with the coming baby, I promised to be a bit more careful.”
“Right, careful. I’m surprised she let you come on this mission.”
“I’m a Protector, Aaron. Besides, she still feels guilty over Murray being kidnapped under our watch about a year ago. If I can do anything to help take down the hunters, she would be on board.”
“That’s right, I forgot about that.” Aaron glanced to his friend and back to the road. “But neither of you should be blaming yourselves. Anyone who is given that bloody mixture of periwinkle and mandrake root would be knocked unconscious. Not even the year seven and eight flying champion could prevent it from happening.”
Quinn chuckled. “You’re right, of course.”
“Pardon? I must be hearing things. Could you say that again?”
“I’m not going to feed your damn ego, Caruso.”
“Not just a little?” Aaron said with a wink. The phone chirped out they were nearing their destination. “I guess you’re saved by the bell. Wake up Randall and Rossi. We’ll make them fly laps later to make up for falling asleep when they’re supposed to be on duty.”
Brenna Rossi and Sebastian Randall were younger Protectors, but both showed promise. Aaron was determined to make the two shine sooner rather than later.
As the younger pair awoke and mumbled their apologies, Aaron cut them off. “You can apologize later. After your nap, you should be alert and ready. Stick to the plan. Bennett Moore-Llewellyn vouches for his mate’s clan, but I want you to watch everything until your gut tells you the same thing.”
The pair murmured their assent.
Aaron made the final turn and pulled up to an eight-foot high stone wall with a solid metal front gate. One dim black light illuminated the old structure and a camera sat perched atop the wall. The sight reminded him of an old prison, right before a huge prisoner breakout destroyed most of it.
Glenlough’s first impression wasn’t exactly one of champagne and crackers.
Still, County Donegal was more remote than Stonefire. Not to mention a lot of the human skirmishes known as The Troubles had happened less than forty miles away, in Derry / Londonderry. Even before that, religious disputes had sparked violence in the same city as early as the 17th century. Defense might’ve been Glenlough’s best option for survival.
Not that most Stonefire dragon-shifters would think twice about the local human history. However, one of Aaron’s secret fascinations was the history between the UK and Ireland. Not that he’d ever tell anyone and ruin his image as a carefree, badass Protector.
Or, worse, the British DDA office marked him as an Irish sympathizer and he’d have to give up his Protector job. Not that he was one, but the tension between the Irish and Northern Irish dragon clans was amping up again. The British DDA most definitely locked away first and asked questions later.
His dragon huffed. You worry too much. History helps us understand where we came from. How can that be a bad thing?
He mentally snorted. How simple life must be as a dragon.
Tossing a temporary barrier inside his brain to keep his dragon quiet, Aaron slid out of the car and the other three Protectors followed his lead. It was time to put on his charm and win over Clan Glenlough.
As agreed upon earlier, Aaron knocked twice on the metal gate, waited five seconds, and knocked two more times. The small camera moved a fraction to probably get a better shot of him.
A lock turned, and the gate swung inward a few inches. “Yes?”
“Lager, crisps, and chips.”
With a grunt to acknowledge the correct, if not odd, pass phrase, the door moved until Aaron and his team could slip inside.
The inside was pitch black. While it was common for dragon-shifters to go without lights after sunset because of their ability to see fairly well at night, none of the cottages even had lights on. It was as if the entire clan had been tossed into darkness.
The male who had opened the door was in his forties with dark hair. The dragonman motioned with his hand. “This way.”
Before Aaron could even open his mouth to say a word, the guide was already several feet ahead of them. He might have to rely on his wits over his charm if the escort was a foreshadowing of the clan as a whole.
Aaron and the others walked for about ten minutes before their attendant stopped in front of a large, castle-looking structure. The large glass windows were dark, but he heard a few faint whispers from the inside. Maybe the clan was gathered in what he assumed was Glenlough’s great hall.
The Irish dragonman finally spoke up again. “Say nothing until you meet Killian. If you try, then my orders are to toss you off our land and ban Stonefire from ever returning.”
Following orders from a stranger wasn’t something Aaron usually did. But in this case, an entire clan’s existence might be on the line, so he merely nodded in acknowledgement.
“Right, then let’s go,” the Irish male said.
They entered via a small side door and walked down one corridor and then another before heading down a flight of stairs. The sounds of people talking grew louder. Was everyone underground?
The Irish dragonman opened a door and said to another dragon-shifter on the other side, “They’re here.”
The door opened wide and Aaron caught a glimpse of the edge of a crowd. As he followed their guide into the room, the merriment died down to a hushed cacophony of whispers.
There had to be at least 400 dragon-shifters in their human forms, ranging from babies to the elderly. If not for the lilting accent and Celtic designs painted on the walls around murals depicting Glenlough’s history, the crowd didn’t look all that different from Stonefire.
A walkway opened up and Aaron looked toward the front. Killian O’Shea’s dark-haired form stood on a raised dais at the end of the cleared pathway, his arms crossed over his chest.
The male couldn’t be more than his late thirties, but his assessing eyes reminded him of Bram. Maybe a piercing gaze was required to become clan leader.
Although, unlike Bram, Aaron wasn
’t so sure that Killian had a sense of humor.
Aaron was instructed to stop in front of the dais. Gritting his teeth, he looked up to meet Killian’s green eyes. The bastard finally spoke up. “You’re late.”
“There aren’t exactly road signs telling me how to get here. Not even the sat-nav was entirely sure of this location.”
At his side, Quinn spoke up. “Although we’re honored to be welcomed onto your clan’s lands.”
Killian’s gaze moved to Quinn. “At least one of you has some manners.” Aaron was tempted to retort, but Killian’s voice cut him off. “Regardless, Bennett has vouched for you. That has granted you at least a meeting with Glenlough’s leader.” He motioned and Bennett came to Killian’s side. “Show them to the meeting room. I’ll join you shortly.”
Nodding, Bennett descended the stairs to the main floor and motioned with his head. “This way.”
Only because the entire Irish clan’s survival could hinge on this meeting did Aaron keep his mouth shut. The one thing he’d enjoyed in Italy had been the freedom to say what he wanted, whenever he wanted, even to the clan leader. The Italian dragon clans hated anything other than complete honesty. The leader of the Irish clan, however, wasn’t above talking about himself in the third person.
His dragon spoke up. But we’re not in Italy anymore.
Believe me, I know.
Bennett finally opened a door and guided them into a windowless room no more than twelve feet by twelve feet. The instant Bennett shut the door, Aaron spoke again. “What was the point of walking us through the clan if Killian wanted to discuss matters in private?”
Bennett shrugged. “He wanted to show your faces to the clan. They have to be cautious here, especially in light of recent news.”
“Speaking of which, will he listen? He barely said two words to Bram beyond agreeing to this meeting.”
Bennett lowered his voice. “He’s a tough bastard to read. But he cares for his clan. I’ll vouch for that. If there’s a threat, he’ll do whatever it takes to quash it.”
Surrendering to the Dragon (Stonefire British Dragons Book 7) Page 16
