Hearts Under Fire (Dragons of Ember Brooke Book 2)

by Victoria Zak

  Hearts Under Fire

  Dragons of Ember Brooke Book 2

  Victoria Zak

  Hearts Under Fire - Dragons of Ember Brooke Book 2 Victoria Zak

  Copyright 2018 by Victoria Zak

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without prior written permission of the author and publisher.

  All characters, events, and locations in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or living, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by JAB Designs

  Editing by Violetta Rand

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Newsletter Signup Victoria Zak

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

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  About Victoria Zak

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  1

  Stone skidded around the corner of the Ember Brooke Bar and Grill, entering a dark alleyway with his pistol drawn.

  Pop…pop…pop…

  Rapid gunfire rang out in front of him, catching him off guard. He ducked behind a green dumpster as another hail of bullets exploded from the barrel of the gun aimed at his chest, but damn his luck. A bullet grazed his left shoulder, lashing through his skin like a molten-hot branding iron. Shit, this mission had turned FUBAR real fast.

  Resting his back against the dumpster, his camo pants soaking up a week’s worth of rotting food, Stone couldn’t believe he hadn’t put an end to the rogue dragon sooner. Once a Dragonkine went rogue, it was hard to talk them off the destructive edge. A kink occurred in their biological makeup, shutting down all rational thoughts and making them spiral out-of-control.

  To add the pickle to the shit sandwich, the dragon he was hunting was one of his own.

  Pissed off and restrained by his uniform, Stone ripped the bullet proof vest off, dumping the extra weight from his chest. With practiced precision, he ejected the near-empty magazine from his gun, slammed home a fresh one, and chambered a round, wincing as he moved his shoulder. He had to end this right now before he caused a bigger scene.

  “Stand down, dragon,” he called over his shoulder. “We don’t have to do this, brother.”

  A bullet whizzed past his head indicating the bastard wasn’t up for negotiations.

  Stone ducked and cursed. The man was one hell of a sharp shooter which didn’t surprise him. He only hired and trained the best.

  As a Dragonkine Guardian, Stone had seen a lot of action on the field, but with centuries of peace, he rarely needed to get physically involved in missions. He hired dragons through his private security company, Blacktalons, to do the dirty work. Life was good for the three-piece-Italian-suit-wearing man who called the shots.

  However, this time it was personal.

  This was one fucked up position to be in. Stone didn’t want to believe one of his men would betray him and the wellbeing of their kind. He didn’t tolerate traitors but he didn’t want to kill him either.

  This dragon had been hired though Blacktalons for a top-secret mission. He couldn’t afford one of his contractors going rogue. Stone’s ass was on the line. The Dragon Bureau of Investigation had hired him to take care of this on the down low. With stakes this high, word couldn’t get out he’d botched this mission because he couldn’t keep his men in check. The Director of the DBI wouldn’t hesitate to ruin him and everything he’d worked hard for…it had been made perfectly clear. He didn’t need a shit show.

  A heaviness hung over him like a cloak of despair. He’d hoped the rogue dragon would come to his senses and surrender, but the stakes proved to be a deadly concoction for the dragon. What he had in his possession was far more powerful than loyalty to his race.

  “Shit.”

  Stone threw his pistol aside and reached behind his back, pulling a Desert Eagle from the waistband of his pants. This was it, the big guns, the only pistol strong enough to kill a dragon with a single shot. A dragon didn’t draw this weapon lightly.

  "Sanders,” Stone called out in one last plea. “Stand down!”

  Sanders was a good man, a loyal man—at least he was until greed became the bane of his existence. He’d been on Stone’s suspicion radar after he’d failed to check-in after retrieving the codes to a highly classified document. Stone had been afraid this would happen eventually. Never again would he ignore his gut feeling; he should have done the job himself.

  It was too late for regrets. When he hired a dragon, they knew the risks and knew they had to be held accountable for their actions…even if it meant death. Most of his men had served in the dragon guard military, protecting their race and fight the injustices of the world. Honor, loyalty, and never leave a dragon behind were their core beliefs, woven into every fiber of their beings. So, when one of their own broke their vows, it affected every dragon on his team. Once rogue, death was the only way out.

  Balls in check, Stone stepped out from behind the dumpster. The gunfire stopped briefly, giving him a direct shot at Sanders. Without hesitation, he took that split-second opportunity and pulled the trigger.

  Stone lowered his weapon and advanced toward the rogue. A cloud of alleyway dirt and debris swirled ahead like a trash-heap tornado. Stone covered his face with his arm, shielding himself from the grime. The long row of buildings flanking him shook. The asphalt splintered, and the jagged crack crept its way to his feet. He staggered back, alarmed.

  The dust cleared revealing a monstrous green dragon charging down the alley like a pissed off Pterodactyl. Its outstretched wings pierced through the brick buildings like needles embedded in a pin cushion. The surrounding buildings crumbled with every thunderous step as the beast charged toward Stone with revenge on his mind.

  Stone ducked, barely missing the dragon’s talons as it swooped up into the air, taking off like a jet plane.

  “For fuck’s sake, today just keeps getting better.” Stone grabbed his cell from his back pocket and speed dialed Jensen, the only other dragon who knew what was going down.

  “Yep,” Jensen answered.

  “Hey J, we have a situation. Sanders is in flight. I’m going after him. Follow me from the ground.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “A little setback, but nothing I can’t handle,” Stone stated hopefully. “I’ll need a cleanup crew down here stat.”

  “On the double.”

  Jensen was his wingman and the only dragon he could trust in times like this, now that his best friend, Thane, was living in mated bliss.

  Stone crushed the cell, tossing the damn thing on the ground. He ripped his clothes off as he ran at warp speed down the alley, gaining enough momentum to take to the sky, praying he’d miss the skyscraper in front of him. This rogue was really pissing him off.

  His physical shift came on fast. With a pump of his massive silver w
ings, Stone launched into the air, banking a hard right and narrowly missing the rooftop of a building.

  Telepathically, he tuned into dragon radio, giving Jensen his exact location.

  Hot on the dragon’s trail, Stone followed the rogue outside of Ember Brooke and into Pinewell, supernatural/human territory, which wasn’t good. Knowing how the humans reacted to supernatural activity, his situation just turned from a shit show to full-throttled fucked.

  “You do realize where you’re heading, right?” Jensen came though dragon radio loud and clear.

  “Do you want to fly after Sanders, because I’d prefer I was driving my car rather than you.”

  Jensen chuckled. “She’s a beauty.”

  “Just keep Cali on the road.”

  This operation had to end now. His prize possession, his Ferrari, California, was in dangerous hands. With Jensen’s heavy braking foot, Cali would need a brake job after this mission.

  Changing channels, Stone tuned into Sanders about ten miles ahead crossing state lines. His aim had been true, he’d shot him with a dragon-killing bullet, so why wasn’t the bastard dead? How did he have enough strength to shift?

  Stone had him in sight. This fucker was going to burn—Mount Stone was erupting. His core bubbled like sweltering magma. On his neck, red glowed underneath his silver scales as hot liquid traveled up his throat. Stone opened his mouth, ready to eject one powerful blow until the rogue suddenly spiraled out of control, plummeting to earth.

  “What the…”

  Flying at top speed, Stone couldn’t slow down quick enough to help the rogue, in fact, he lost all sight of him. Damn!

  “Jensen, something’s wrong with Sanders.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “He was flying, then suddenly he’s falling out of the sky.”

  “Shit!”

  With dragon communications shutdown, Stone couldn’t track Sanders from the air. Hopefully, Jensen had a solid trace on the rogue.

  “I’m coming down.”

  Stone shifted as soon as he hit the ground. He didn’t have to wait long before Jensen fishtailed around the corner, slamming on the brakes. Stone had barely gotten into the passenger seat before Jensen took off.

  “Do you have a lead?” Stone asked as he grabbed a duffle bag from the backseat.

  “Yes, I saw him land just past the hospital.”

  Stone pulled out a pair of pants from the bag and put them on.

  Jensen gave him a concerned sideways glance. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Stone buttoned up his shirt. “I shot him with a dragon bullet. He shouldn’t have been able to shift.”

  “Exactly.”

  “All I know is we need to find Sanders before Pinewell’s finest do.”

  “On the double.” Jensen cracked a smile and accelerated, causing Stone to grimace. He’d be lucky if he arrived on the scene in one piece.

  2

  What was she doing? Cynthia stared in the bathroom mirror, combing her long, dark hair as she primped for a date. “Date,” she sighed. Goddess, the thought of it made her want to run to the nearest nunnery and take the sacred vows. She could do celibacy. Yeah, right.

  A year had passed since she’d left her heart back home in Ember Brooke, but who was counting? Apparently, she was. It wasn’t as if men didn’t find her attractive. The city of Pinewell was a diverse mix of humans and supernaturals, a She-Dragon could take her pick. She’d been asked on dates. On a few occasions, she found herself peaking over the ice wall she kept protectively around her heart, almost saying yes, until her heart reminded her it still ached for one dragon.

  Why did she keep torturing herself? Keep the damn wall up.

  Cynthia applied another coat of lip gloss to her already glistening lips. Maybe she should cancel. It wasn’t too late, was it? Saying she was nervous was an understatement. She’d changed outfits five times; each dress was too revealing for drinks with a friend…he was just a friend. A friend who happened to be blond, blue-eyed, sexy, and her co-worker and…human.

  Every fiber of her being warned she shouldn’t get romantically involved with the lead detective. First, he was human, second, she worked closely with him as he worked the human side of the team, and third…well…

  Goddess, she needed to stop this indecisive bullshit and put on her big girl panties. It wasn’t as if she’d jumped into a sexual relationship with the guy. It was just drinks. Running away when life turned uncomfortable was wearing her thin. When she left Ember Brooke a part of her had died and the other parts…well, were hardened. There was no living life by the seat of her pants anymore. Situations were carefully assessed solutions were formulated for the best outcome. But most of all, she took no shit.

  She worked hard as the Lead Crime Scene Investigator for the Dragon Flight Unit. The DFU and the Pinewell police department worked together to serve and protect their citizens. Her job was to investigate crimes involving Dragonkine—it was her job to keep her kind in check.

  If she could work hard, surely, she could learn to love hard again.

  She stopped overanalyzing and put down the lip gloss. “I can do this.” It was Friday night, nothing on T.V. What the hell, why not?

  She went into her closet and slipped off her Plain Jane flats and took out shiny black six-inch heels. She put on one and gave it a look over. “Yep,” she said completely confident and feeling a bit sexier.

  Her cell vibrated on her dresser. She fumbled with the other heel as she raced to her phone. Taking off her earring, she answered, “Sinclaire.”

  “Hey, Cynthia,”

  His voice sent a jolt of excitement down her body.

  “Detective,” she replied playfully.

  “We have a DDOA, downtown Pinewell square.” The disappointment in the detective’s voice wasn’t for the dead dragon, but for having to cancel their date.

  Saved by Dead Dragon on Arrival.

  “Oh, okay.” She sobered. “Be right there.”

  Cynthia hung up before plans were rearranged. As she dressed in her work clothes, black slacks, blue blouse, boots, and blazer, she felt that fracture in her ice wall repair itself.

  Arriving downtown, Cynthia parked her car behind several squad units lined along the road. She hated being called in late. Pinewell’s finest never properly secured her scenes. And she didn’t hold her breath that this one was any different from other cases.

  After dictating a few initial observations into her recorder, the rest of her Dragon Flight Unit team pulled in behind her. She got out of the car. A light drizzle misted the air mixing with the smell of musky humans, death, and dragon. The concoction ignited her power of observation, awakening her keen senses. This was the shit dragons loved.

  “Bag and tag,” Cynthia said as she led her team beyond the yellow, do-not-cross crime scene tape.

  “Hey, look, it’s the lizard squad here to save the day.” A pudgy, arrogant Pinewell police officer, and obviously a dumbass who didn’t value his life, approached her.

  “Cynthia, allow me one minute alone with this asshole,” her partner and assistant investigator snarled.

  “Zee, he’s not worth it. Let me handle this.” Cynthia’s eyes narrowed in on the chubby bastard as he stopped in front of her. “For once, do you think your buddies could secure a scene properly for us?”

  “Not a chance, sweetheart.” Glaze and chunks of donut gathered around his mouth as he chewed like a cow with a mouth of fresh grass.

  “Do your job.” Cynthia flashed her blue, reptilian eyes—fuck off implied.

  The officer backed down, granting access to the crime scene.

  It works all the time. Inwardly, she grinned. Well, maybe the corners of her lips curled into a smile, too.

  She joined Zee, who was staring down at the dead dragon.

  “What do we have?” she asked as she pulled on a pair of blue, latex gloves.

  “White male Dragon shifter. Single bullet wound to the chest. Rigor has set in
,” Zee informed as he flipped through his notepad.

  Cynthia bent down, getting a better look at the victim. He was in human form and naked, indicating a shift had happened before he died. There was one bullet wound, but no blood splatter. The ground was caved in around the victim’s body.

  Who did you piss off, buddy?

  Green eyes stared back at her. Empty, yet there was a story hidden behind those reptilian eyes. Everyone had a tale to tell, even the dead. What had he seen? Who wanted to silence him? How did he get here? Yep, this dragon had left clues, and it was her job to tell his side of the story.

  “What do think?” Zee hovered over her shoulder.

  “Giving that the victim’s eyes are still reptilian, he was able to shift. Yet the bullet hole indicates he was shot in human form. There’s no evidence of blood splatter or blood smears indicating he’d been shot here.”

  “Well, he had to get here somehow.” Zee bent down and collected a blood sample. “It isn’t like he magically fell from the sky.”

  A flock of birds flew overhead, gaining her attention. As she looked up, the branches from a nearby oak tree were bent, some broken. She looked back at the victim, then back at the tree. “That was one hell of a fall.”

  Taking a step back, the whole scene unfolded right before her eyes. The victim’s arms were outstretched. Black soot outlined two massive wings splayed behind him. No blood trail. No murder weapon. All her dragon senses were tingling, warning her something was very wrong here. It wasn’t every day a dragon fell from the sky—not in Pinewell.

  “I want samples of everything. Leave no stone unturned. Do you understand, Zee?”