by Kyle, Celia
Instead of joining her, Thrett jumped off the stage and hurried up one row of seats and down the other to make sure the boy wasn’t hunkered down behind the seat backs. No such luck.
“Blaise!” he shouted, making another little boy whimper.
He didn’t relish scaring children, but despite his efforts to secure the building, he wasn’t going to play nice for their sake when that van was lurking just outside.
Hurrying around the entire perimeter of the auditorium, he checked every door again. All were locked tighter than a clam’s ass at high tide. Good, but that didn’t ease his worry.
Leaping back onto the stage, he slammed right into Rylan. “Oof! You okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, her brow furrowed, which meant she hadn’t found Blaise backstage either. “I checked the green room. He’s not anywhere. Thrett…I’m scared.”
Thrett forced himself to take a deep breath, and then he grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Trust me, Rylan, we’re going to find him. This place might as well be Fort Knox right now. Remember how we checked all of the entrances? He’s here somewhere. We just need to find him.”
Panic flickered in her eyes as they drifted toward the crowd of children huddled in front of the stage, some crying softly as the teachers tried to comfort them. He squeezed her shoulders and she returned her gaze to him.
“You scour the auditorium this time and I’ll go backstage. Always safest to double check, right?”
“R-right.”
She didn’t sound convinced but she gave him a curt nod and moved away from him. As much as he hated being even a few feet away from her, his emotions had to wait. A kid’s life was in danger and he wouldn’t stop until all of the chicks were accounted for.
“Blaise Bradford!” he shouted again as he raced toward the green room.
Before he reached it, the bathroom door swung open and Blaise walked out, head down as he zipped up his fly. Thrett skidded to a stop in front of him and simply gaped at the kid. He’d been in the bathroom the entire time!
“What’s all the yelling about, Mr. Lacerta?” Blaise asked, his big brown eyes ready to be worried. “Is everything all right?”
Thrett released the breath he didn’t know he was holding in a barking laugh. “Yeah,” he said, crouching down and smiling at the little bugger. “Everything’s fine now. Here, take my hand. You’re sticking close to me for a bit. Okay?”
Blaise shrugged and slipped his tiny hand into Thrett’s oversized paw. He seemed reassured as Thrett led him back toward the stage to let Rylan know their wayward charge was safe. But his relief was short-lived.
Rylan stood front and center on the stage, the stink of fear pouring off her. She frantically tapped a mic, producing an ear-splitting squeal that rang out across the auditorium and forced everyone to clap their hands over their ears until it subsided. When it did, she spoke the only words that could turn the fiery blood in Thrett’s veins to ice.
“Trystin James Wilson!” her panicked, quavering voice boomed around the room. “Where are you?”
Chapter Nine
Time had slowed to nothing. Space compressed, contracting, crushing Rylan beneath its weight like a steamroller. She ceased to exist in her own body, utterly detached from the world around her as panic set in and flooded her system. She was terrified to the point of near paralysis, her body shutting down in response to the unimaginable horror of losing her child.
It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced this kind of primal, instinctive fear. She was a single mother with a rambunctious, adventurous little boy. Of course, she had experienced the split-second, world-melting terror of losing track of her child in a grocery store or at a carnival. Except, those moments had always ended so quickly, Trystin reappearing as swiftly as he had slipped away. Each time, the same rush of powerful relief seized her and brought her back to life. The feeling of clutching her sweet boy in her arms, the way he wiggled and giggled and tried to squirm away, not fully realizing just how deeply terrified his mother had been until he’d reappeared.
She knew he had some idea. He was deeply empathetic, and one time when she had lost Trystin in a shopping mall, he had come back full of hugs and apologies. At age four. That was why she rarely felt a huge need to worry about him disappearing because he never wandered far and always came right back. He knew better than to talk to strangers. She had hammered it into his head that he was supposed to stay within earshot and eyesight at all times. Usually, he wanted to stay close to her anyway, as he genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with his mother.
Rylan’s mind splintered in every direction, none of it particularly coherent or helpful. Her memory summoned an image of tiny baby Trystin in his crib, eyes tightly shut and lips parted, his itty-bitty hands curled into soft, doughy fists. He had been wearing Rylan’s favorite baby blue onesie, his stuffed lizard pressed against his side as he slept peacefully. He was an infant, and it was their first night at home after leaving the hospital post-birth.
Rylan hadn’t been much more than a kid herself back then, still overwhelmed by the responsibility of having a child but even more bowled over by the incredible, all-encompassing love she felt for the little guy. Even though she had been tired to the bone, with dark circles under her eyes that made her look like a starved raccoon, she still spent the entire night in a rocking chair by the crib, watching her son sleep just to make sure he kept breathing.
That instinct to watch over him had never gone away. Someone once told her that having a child felt a little bit like having your heart walk around outside of the body. As Rylan stood on the stage under the bright white lights, she felt her heart disappearing, slipping away, ripped out of her body. She was almost surprised to find that her chest wasn’t a gaping wound. She expected blood. Something dramatic to represent how hollowed-out she felt.
Her head grew fuzzy, vision darkening as the shock seeped through her body and took residence. Then she crumpled, her knees buckling underneath her and her eyelids fluttering as she headed for the floor. But Thrett appeared out of nowhere and caught her in his arms.
“My son,” she choked out hoarsely into Thrett’s chest. “My boy. My baby.”
“Shh,” he soothed, holding her tightly as her body vibrated from the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
“They got him, Thrett. They took Trystin. I don’t understand…”
Whatever she’d felt when she’d lost sight of her son for a few minutes was nothing compared to how she felt now, knowing he hadn’t simply wandered off. This time, somebody had taken him—somebody dangerous, who had been watching him for a while.
She would never forgive herself if so much as a hair on his head was harmed. Her focus had been on protecting all the children, though everyone privately believed Thrett’s buddy Blaise was the target. It made a hell of a lot more sense than Trystin. While her salary was very comfortable, it was a drop in the bucket compared to Stark Bradford’s millions. Not once had she considered the possibility the men in the van were stalking her son. It was unfathomable, a nightmare too viscerally evil for her to consider. Until now.
Thrett’s presence helped calm her a bit, his simple touch melting the ice that had frozen her in place. Her soul slowly thawed back to life as he held her, whispering soft words of comfort to bring her back from the edge of darkness. She clung to him, her body trembling as hot, stinging tears prickled in her eyes. She rested her forehead against Thrett’s chest and gasped out a deep exhale. He kissed the top of her head and swayed back and forth for a moment, stroking her hair.
“Come back to me, Rylan,” he murmured. “This is not the time to panic. Trystin needs his mama. Your son needs you right now.”
She nodded against him, knowing he was right. It was time to pull herself together, for her son’s sake.
“Okay,” she sniffled, tears tracing a hot trail down her cheeks. “I—I’m good. Well, not good…”
“It’s okay. You’re scared. So am I. But we have to keep
our wits about us if we’re going to get him back. And believe me, Rylan, we will get him back.”
She pulled back and watched the fire dancing in his eyes as he struggled with his nature to release his dragon and blast whoever took Trystin. That gave her even more strength to stand on her own feet again.
“We have to, Thrett,” she hiccupped, wiping the wetness from her face.
His radio crackled again and his coworker’s voice came through, a little garbled but still clear enough to understand. “Thrett, it’s Grizz. The van’s empty. They must be somewhere on the premises. I’ll search outside, you keep the kids inside and safe.”
“Copy that.”
He returned the radio to his belt and grabbed her by the shoulders, searching her face. “We need to talk to the kids, see if they know anything. You up for it?”
Rylan nodded. “Yes, anything.”
He pressed a cool kiss to her forehead, and in that simple, sweet gesture, she felt his own fear and fury. He was as desperate to find Trystin as she was.
“Okay, everyone, time for a head count!” he shouted as he left her to address the crowd of kids and a few adults huddled at the base of the stage. “Everyone on the stage! If you’re hiding anywhere, come on out and gather with everyone else. No one’s in trouble. I promise. We just need to make sure everyone’s safe.”
They quickly filed onto the stage and Thrett just as quickly counted them all. He turned a grim look on her. “Only Trystin is missing.”
She swallowed hard, choking back the bile that threatened to eject itself from her body, and nodded. Thrett started to reach for her again but turned away. As much as she needed comfort, it was a relief. If he touched her again, she’d break down, and all that mattered in that moment was finding Trystin.
“Okay,” he said to the huddled group of frightened kids, “who remembers seeing Trystin today?”
They all stared at him silently, scared to say anything. That’s how it often happened with children. When they didn’t understand what was happening, they clammed up out of fear of saying something wrong. They needed to understand.
“Boys and girls,” Rylan said, her voice tight, but at least not faltering. “I don’t want you to worry. Okay? We’re all safe inside because Mr. Lacerta here made sure every door and window was locked. I watched him with my own eyes. So each and every one of you is safe. Got it?”
A few nodded and even more relaxed a little, breathing out their relief.
“But we can’t find Trystin,” she continued, trying to keep her tone light. “He came in with us not long ago. Who remembers seeing him here?”
Two shy little girls raised their hands slowly.
“Great!” Thrett said, kneeling before them. “Where and when?”
They glanced at each other and shrugged. Rylan stepped forward and tapped him out. Time for the big guns. Instead of kneeling, she towered over the girls but smiled down at them.
“Flora, Janelle, did you see him when we arrived?”
They nodded.
“Did you see him go backstage?”
They nodded again. God, Rylan’s heart could hardly stand the stress of this.
“Did you see him after that?”
They shook their heads and another shot of panic jolted her.
“Thank you, ladies,” she whispered, taking Thrett’s offered hand. He squeezed her fingers before turning to Blaise.
“Okay, big guy, you’re up. Where did he go after he went backstage to visit you?”
The boy cocked his head to one side, looking bewildered and more than a little worried. “He never came backstage.”
Rylan’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. If Blaise never saw Trystin, that meant he’d been MIA even longer than they thought.
“No,” she whispered, blinking back tears as her knees gave out once more. “No, no, no.”
Again, Thrett caught her before she fell and pulled her into a fierce hug. “We’ll find him. I swear it to you. I’ll be damned if I lose my kid so soon after finding him.”
A gravelly voice blasted out from Thrett’s radio. “I see ‘em! Two adult males. They’re running through the woods on the other side of the auditorium, Thrett!”
“Don’t lose them, Grizz,” he barked into the radio. “On my way!”
He locked his blazing gaze on hers. “I need you to stay here, my love. Lock the door behind me and don’t let anyone in or out until you hear my voice. I’m not going to lose you either.”
His long legs took him to the nearest exit before she could blink, much less think. The drama teacher locked the door behind him, pushing on it as a test, and then they all stood around looking at each other.
Under normal circumstances, the fact he’d called her his “love” would have made her heart soar, but right now, all she could feel was the cold, sharp knife’s edge of fear.
* * *
The door had barely closed behind him before Thrett released his dragon, barely remembering to cloak himself so no humans had their minds blown. Blazing yellow reptilian eyes grew in his quickly expanding head. His nostrils flared as he embraced his magic, took two running steps away from the building, and let his wings burst from his back. No need to puff out his cheeks, like he did with Trystin a hundred years ago. The rest of his massive form burst out of his poor shredded clothes in a heartbeat. His powerful hind legs tensed as he sprang into the air like a tiger before scooping air in his wings and launching into the sky with a hellish roar.
Some unlucky bastards were about to feel the wrath of a daddy dragon.
Thrett barely got off the ground when he spotted Grizz out of the corner of his eye, not yet shifted but waving his arms as he ran after the suspects.
“They’re heading around the playground!” he shouted as his body morphed and then kicked off the ground and spread his wings.
Thrett had already changed direction.
The two dragons beat their wings and got just enough altitude to circle the entire block of the school grounds, just as they’d been trained. It was a basic fugitive containment strategy. The suspects would be hesitant to dart across a street that was being watched by a single dragon, much less two. And that van was going to be easy pickings if they tried to use it to escape. Sooner or later, they would have to show themselves, and the dragons would be waiting.
But they didn’t wait long. Thrett spotted two men sprinting across the grounds near that very palm tree he’d hidden behind when surveilling them. He snorted a relieved puff of smoke that neither of them was carrying anything Trystin-shaped. Of course, they could easily have handed off the boy to an accomplice they didn’t know about. A van could hold a lot of unseen people. The very thought pissed him off even more, and Thrett’s sleek golden body darted after the pair.
Homing in on a couple of unshifted men was easy enough, but as soon as the two dragons started to close in on them, one looked over his shoulder and cursed loudly. He gave his buddy a hard shove and they split off to run in opposite directions. The shover’s body began changing and growing, and soon he kicked off the ground to shift into his dragon form.
Before Thrett could react, Grizz snarled, oddly furious at the sight of the shifter taking flight. Grizz turned on a dime to pursue, small gouts of flame spurting from his snout. Thrett was going to let him have that one—it seemed personal—so he could chase the other one. Ideally, they’d capture them both alive so they could extract as much information from them as possible, using every means possible.
Before his prey could shift into whatever he was—probably something that ran slower than a human, which would explain why the guy didn’t bother shifting—Thrett sliced through the air directly toward him.
The suspect made the mistake of looking back to see how close Thrett was and then tripped and tumbled to the ground in a quaking ball. Thrett hit the ground and took two heavy steps to pin the guy to the ground by resting his foot on his chest. As if a multi-ton dragon standing on his chest—lightly, but still—wasn’t enough cause
to remain still, Thrett let a warning flame escape his jaws to make the pecking order crystal clear from the get go. Not that it appeared to be an issue. The guy had already wet himself.
“Please don’t fry me, man!” he squealed, thrashing under Thrett’s foot, eyes pleading. “My name’s Jake. I didn’t sign up to get burned alive. I’m begging you! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”
Thrett narrowed his eyes and then shifted back to his human form, keeping just enough of his dragon’s bulk to use a clawed hand to hold the suspect down by pressing on his chest. He stared down at the wriggling man, uncaring that he stood over him without a stitch of clothing. He had more important things to think about.
“Where’s my son?” he snarled, baring what remained of his fangs.
“I—I don’t know!”
“Wrong answer.”
Thrett yanked Jake to his feet, wrenched one arm behind his back, and then marched him toward where he’d parked his SUV. Slamming the asshole face-first into the rig, Thrett held him in place while he bent and pulled Jake’s shoelaces free. He used the laces to bind Jake’s wrists together behind his back. Once the suspect was contained, Thrett spun him around and got in his face.
“Now,” he said quietly, though his voice was dripping with menace, “where…is…my…son?”
Jake shook his head, clearly terrified and willing to talk. “I swear, I don’t have a clue. Don’t even know who your kid is.”
The expression on Thrett’s face made Jake continue quickly.
“I can tell you that we didn’t grab the kid we came here for. We didn’t get a chance to finish the job.”
Thrett breathed deeply, searching for any hint of deception on Jake’s part, but he only smelled fear. Only natural when you were looking into the face of a dragon. That eased his worry a touch. Not enough to take it easy on the guy, but enough for him to open his SUV and pull out some sweats to throw on as Jake babbled.
“It was supposed to be an easy gig. Just grab some brat and run. No one bothered to mention there’d be a whole team of fucking dragons guarding him or Ruphus and me would have demanded hazard pay.”
