by Susan Arden
Lifting her glasses, Dr. Matthew peered closely at the box containing the salamander. “Yes. She’s an excellent sample for our work in fire regeneration. You’re correct, she’s about to lay her eggs.”
Dr. Matthew reached for the box and the Jinni didn’t let it go initially, just held onto it as he stared at her unblinking.
Drake had the urge to hurl one of the boulders near the wall across the room. Oh fuck. Did that dude really think an educated human would find him amiable? When Dr. Matthew walked off down the corridor, and pulled open what looked to be the door to a newly fashioned lab, he swung back to the Jinni. “Really? Do ya think she’ll ever give you the time of day? Right now I need you to focus on closing this ceremony ASAP!”
“It might happen, Mr. Know It All. You’re proof that impossible things can occur,” the Jinni snorted.
“So, we’re square?”
“It appears to be that way.”
“I hope you really needed that flamethrower, and this isn’t some warped excuse for you to hook up with some highbrow researcher.”
“Lower your voice,” the Jinni snapped. “You can see as well as anyone the torches are dimmer than shit and if we don’t get an elemental to harness the fire, they will go out completely. The fact that you succeeded on your challenge and are close to claiming a mate is very timely. I can’t begin to explain, but the universe has its own rhythm.”
“Destiny?”
“Precisely.” The Jinni picked up a curved piece of metal from a table and tossed it high into the air. “Heads up.”
Drake tracked the arcing metal and recognized it as a cuff to be worn if not cherished. He snatched it out of the air. “Ah, so this is mine.”
“Don’t lose it,” the Jinni warned. “And don’t rub too hard. I’m not deaf.”
He slipped the polished gold cuff on to his wrist and nodded. “Where’s the other one?”
The Jinni snapped his fingers and one of his concubines came forward with sterling tray that held a smaller version of the cuff he wore. The magickal jewelry would adjust to the wearer regardless of his or her form. But still Shay’s wrist was tiny compared to his and he slipped the gold cuff over his talon, near to his knuckle for safekeeping.
He glanced upward, meeting the Jinni’s frank appraising eyes. “Since you’re right in front of me, I won’t pretend that all is fine in Gotham. Truthfully, I need you help now.”
“What can I do you for?” the Jinni asked, dropping his bored facade. “Are you referring to Denver?”
Nodding, he inhaled, flexing the muscles of his shoulders. “I need to get back there immediately and I want to take them,” he motioned to the phoenixes.
“As you wish,” the Jinni crossed his arms. “Stand over there, in the clearing.”
Drake flapped his wings, landing next to the phoenixes, who’d momentarily stopped preening their feathers.
“Dudes,” he shouted. “We’re leaving so all three of you need to stop that.”
Grant shot him the bird, but he quit and stared back at Drake. The Jinni walked forward, “When will I meet Lady Herensuge?”
Drake stiffened at the title, but it was true. When he wed Shay, she would be Lady Herensuge and he’d be known as Lord Herensuge to those of the dragon rages both here at home and all over the universe.
“I expect soon,” he growled, locking onto the Jinni’s gaze. “Catch you around. If I summon you, don’t come to town thinking we’re asking you over for tea. If I send word in the next day, it’ll be serious shit that’s going down as in Dark Fae. A fucking gypsy.”
The Jinni faced him, taller than Drake in his human form. At least seven, closer to eight feet tall, and nearly every bare inch of skin had been inked from his neck down. “Have no fear, Lord Herensuge, I’ll be ready when you call.”
The genie touched his forehead in a display of allegiance. Gone was his jaded demeanor, and seeing this side of the Jinni made Drake that much more weary. What the hell was waiting for him back in Denver?
CHAPTER 22
Shay, fucking tell me what is going down!
Drake’s mind linked with hers and boy, he hollered, but she couldn’t respond. She kept her eyes shut and focused on taking in shallow breaths, unable to mentally converse with Drake while pulling off this charade of still being unconscious, which wasn’t as easy as it seemed. From underneath her lashes, she watched Morgan enter the room and harshly drop a tray on the nightstand. God, I almost jumped a mile high.
She’d wanted to leap off the bed and wrestle that idiot to the ground, but she shifted her focus toward a flickering shadow at the door. Duncan stood there, staring inside the room—especially at her.
Morgan stomped out and snarked to her brother, “Stop staring at her. She’s not one of your bimbo tramps.”
She bolted upright as soon as the door closed. Oh Scarlett and Hunter. One side of her mind cried out, afraid of whatever they’d injected her with might have a harmful effect on her babies.
Who are Scarlett and Hunter?, Drake demanded.
Sorry, babe. I’m being held.
Silence. That couldn’t be good. Shit, Drake would have to leave his family’s residence and whatever meetings he’d planned for tomorrow. What time was it?
I’m at the Den, he roared.
Now it was her turn. YOU’RE WHERE? Prickling sweat erupted from between her shoulder blades. Oh dear God! She must have been out for hours.
At the Den and you’re not. Who has you? Tell me and I’ll come get you.
Drake lowered his voice and sounded deadly calm.
She stammered, I was outside taking a walk … to my car. And Pestrolii came up behind me.
Shay for all that’s holy, what the hell were you doing outside without an escort? I just spoke with the two sentinels upstairs and they alerted Shawn about an hour ago when you didn’t come back. This place is crawling with security and no one knows what happened to you. Pieces of info but no dots to connect. You were dressed like a chef. A valet thinks he saw you, hollering in pain but no one was with you. Sherry’s here but from all accounts, we need Kee and Carl to track you, unless you know the location of where you’re being held.
So much for him being calm. When Drake stopped his rant, she interjected, Can I talk now?
Go ahead.
At Dimitri’s house. But I don’t know the exact location. I’m in a room.
I’ll find the location and find you. Baby, give me a few minutes and I’ll come for you, Drake growled.
No one is here. They think I’m still unconscious.
She heard Drake curse in his mind. A stream of not pretty or nice things about what he’d do to Dimitri and the gypsy. But she couldn’t just sit here and wait for him; this had to be a trap. Drake, don’t you think they know you’ll come here?
Kitten, you’ll let me worry about that. You sit tight.
Shay scooted over to the side of the bed and picked up the water bottle. Her throat was dry and she felt like whatever they’d given her had dehydrated her to the core. She downed the water, all of it and could have chugged two more bottles without a problem. The door eased open and she watched as Duncan glanced both ways in the hall before he entered and closed the door. In the dim light, his eyes glowed. Too late to lie back down and she sat, perched on the edge of bed.
“Shay,” he whispered. “I’ve come to get you out of here.”
“Why?” she asked, unwilling to trust him. He was a Necrodemas and she wasn’t a fool.
“My father is disturbed. But he’s also powerful. I’m not into rocking his boat, but I’m not down for this type of criminal crap he’s got going on. He’s basically sold his soul to that gypsy dude and I don’t plan on going over to the dark side anytime soon.”
She rose and teetered; the effects of the injection hadn’t worn off completely. Duncan shot across the room and steadied her. He held her up by her elbows. Nothing creepy, but merely lending a hand. Okay, she was willing to hear him out. “Just how the heck are we getting out
of here?”
“They’ve gone to bed. We could leave by the front door and they won’t know you’re gone until tomorrow.”
“Stroll through the front door? Without a hitch?” she asked, unable to fathom her escape would be that easy.
“Not literally. We’ll go down the back stairs into the basement. It’s connected to the garage. This place isn’t a fortress. Nothing like the Den with all those guards. But Pestrolii came through. It was a no-brainer in getting in and getting out using glamours. The only thing that idiot Fae was good for.”
She drew her brows together. “But I need to get your father to admit to what he’s done … ”
“Why? Is that what you were planning on doing? Coming here and getting him to confess? You would have walked into a trap. He was there at the Den, has been for nights. This has all been carefully staged in getting you back. For months. Since they couldn’t find you, he orchestrated this plot to get you to come out of hiding. Dad and that gypsy put this all into action to capture you and your mate, not to mention what he plans on doing with your children.” Duncan glanced down to her belly, then up again at her face.
She exhaled. “I have a vial and a spell.”
He squeezed her elbows and she flinched, but he quickly lessened the pressure. “Do you want to risk getting found out by Gustov? Do you realize what he’ll do to you or your children? Better come with me while we still have time.” He tugged her toward the door but stopped. “Not a peep. Just do as I say. You good with that?”
“Okay. I guess you’re right,” she muttered.
He let go of her arms and smiled. “Let’s get you out of here and back to the Den. Sound like a plan?”
Well, considering she had no weapons and basically limited options, she decided she’d better get free of here and then Drake wouldn’t be forced into a trap thanks to her.
“Lead the way,” she replied, following in his footsteps.
Just as Duncan promised, the halls were free of anyone and as they walked down the backstairs, she couldn’t make out any sounds other than the chiming of a clock on the ground floor. Five o’clock in the morning. It would be light soon and she felt edgy from being drugged and kidnapped. Down in the basement, Duncan walked ahead of her, punching the security code into a keypad at the doorway.
They entered the garage and there was the Hummer along with six other cars. He walked over to a two-seater which she thought was odd. “Isn’t the Hummer safer, in case you have to outrun anyone?”
“I’m not driving,” he said. “You are.”
She tilted her head. “Me. Drive?”
“Makes sense in case someone follows us. I can deal with them. Unless you’re willing to fire a gun.”
“What kind of bullets?” she asked.
“The kind that gypsies don’t do well with. Wood and mineral. Just one shot to the idiot gypsy’s head and he’ll be long gone.” He smirked and she felt the creeping of her skin. Assuredly, this guy was pure creeper material.
She weighed the equation and in her condition, trying to turn and fire out the window of a sports car had stupid painted all over it. “Keys?”
“That’s my girl,” he said and held out the key fob.
That phrase coming from a Necrodemas sounded gross. Even if Duncan was helping her, she wasn’t his girl. “Don’t say that,” she replied. “I appreciate you helping me, but you also injected me with a drug and that wasn’t cool.”
“We can assess blame and choices all night.” Duncan held her gaze and instead of appearing sorry, he raised an eyebrow. “You do realize, yeah we both had choices. I could have refused, but then I’d be watched and you’d still be drugged. I made the best choice. But if you want to find fault, really, you were the one that exited the Den—that was your choice. Don’t blame me for that mistake.”
Guess he didn’t like being called on the carpet. Note to self, get the hell out of here and away from these nutcases. Just agree with him. Stop arguing, Shay!
“We can agree to disagree,” she said and grabbed the key. She didn’t wait for him to get her door and as rapidly as she could, she climbed inside and started the car. So far, so good. The garage doors opened and the engine purred, but when she stepped on the gas and put it into the gear, she gripped the steering wheel as they jerked forward.
“Take it easy. This car handles better with a caress, not a kick. Suave, Shay.” Duncan winked at her and she bit her lip, wondering if she’d made the right choice in getting into this car with him. Too late now, she eased out of the garage, and down the driveway, following Duncan’s directions. Instead of getting on the Interstate, he directed her to a back road that snaked around the perimeter of Denver. Maybe he didn’t trust her with his car after she’d given it too much gas.
Oh well, so what. Up ahead was Coleman Drive, a main road and the one that went directly back to the Den. “Keep going,” he said and held onto the wheel, preventing her from turning.
• • •
Drake met Shawn and Quinn at the door to the suite. “I just spoke with Shay,” he said. “Dimitri and Pestrolii have her.”
“What the fuck happened?” Shawn snapped.
“Dimitri was having dinner here last night?” Drake retorted. “Is that true?”
“I have no idea how he got into the restaurant. Everyone is scanned who comes through that gate.” Shawn was inches away from him.
“You two need to cool down,” Quinn said and got in between them.
“I hear you.” Drake raised his hands. Without a clear-cut direction, he couldn’t summon the Jinni to a task. The genie had to have complete instructions; there was no grey when it came to a genie with a saber.
“Unless they’re shielded,” Shawn said. “Remember the building to the Den is warded, not the grounds. From what the valet said, it sounds like they had the gypsy cover their tracks.”
“I don’t understand why Shay left,” he said. Jesus, he felt her essence move through him … like she was in the same room. Or nearby.
Sherry walked into the suite. “I’m a jackass,” she announced. “I gave Shay the address to a botánica shop and the owner relayed she bought truth serum.”
“How do you know the owner is telling the truth?” Drake demanded.
“She’s from the Sisterhood Council and I had to get clearance to require that she divulge a confidence. It’s pretty serious and spell casters take an oath, but this is more than grave.”
“Where’s Dimitri’s house? I’ll take my guards and go over there. We can get there faster by air and we’ll let you know.”
“Here.” Quinn held out a piece of paper with the address.
Babe … err. Help! Shay’s voice filled his mind.
Drake took the note. “Give me a second,” he said to Quinn, turning on his heel. He strode over to the large windows overlooking the grounds and directed his entire focus to his mate.
Talk to me, Shay.
I’m so sorry. I didn’t listen. Again. I’m in a car. A silver 911 Porsche on North 104th Avenue. We just passed Brighton. He said he was bringing me back to the Den.
He curled his fingers into fists. Who Shay? Who has got you?
Duncan Necrodemas—Dimitri’s son.
Drake gripped the windowsill, delving into that mind-blistering feeling that tore through him when she was nearby.
Okay. Stay calm. I’m coming with help.
Shawn came up next to him and Drake exhaled sharply. “I gotta go. Now! Shay’s been moved. She’s in a car traveling away from Denver—not with Necrodemas senior. His fucking kid. I’m taking my guards and we’ll find her. But be prepared, when I do I’ll tear apart that cocksucker from limb to limb.”
“I’ll join you,” Shawn said.
He stopped mid-stride. “You can’t. Not as a council member. It’d be better if you and Quinn dealt with the authorities. Get them involved in arresting Necrodemas and whoever is involved in this shit and contain that gypsy Fae. Let me deal with the fucker who’s got Shay.”
“We’re all in shock. I’ll let you know as soon as I have Shay.”
CHAPTER 23
“Wait. Why’d you do that? Now, we’ve gone too far. That’s the road that will take us back to the Den,” she snarled, glancing over to Duncan.
“Shay, you made another shitty choice. You put your trust in the wrong man. Again.” Duncan whispery voice coupled with his sinister snicker made her bite her lip.
Need a solution and now!
This section of 104th Avenue was on the periphery of the industrial section of Denver that had long ago been deserted. Factories and warehouses stood empty. The road widened, littered by debris … old newspapers, broken bottles, and rusted out cars lined the street. She let off the gas, and glanced from one side of the road to the other, seeking to find a place to do a U-turn. This was the section of town that no one crossed into during the day, even if it were early morning, and it still wasn’t anywhere she wanted to be with or without Duncan. The sun was just starting to rise, evidenced by the silvery rays fanning upward at the horizon.
“Where are we headed?” she asked as snowflakes dusted the roadway and the glass.
From a dusting, more and more snow descended, falling in earnest but instead of blowing free, the flakes melted and clumped, so she turned on the windshield wipers.
“I’ve got a little hideaway, not far.” Duncan displayed the handgun he had hidden. “Now, shut the fuck up and drive. I’m taking you to a special place where we can be alone. I’m going to enjoy getting to know you a whole lot better. Shit, I can’t believe my father still wanted to marry you. You sure had him whipped. Here’s a memo: I’m nothing like my old man.”
Duncan dropped his other hand on her leg, digging his thumb and forefinger into her knee before he slowly stroked down her thigh as though he’d enjoy stringing out her torture.
