“My elven intelligence must be focused on maintaining the portal,” I said.
“It’s true,” Taylor agreed. “We can’t jump through if there’s no portal, so Quentin can’t be stuck healing your dwarven ass.”
That elicited a grumble from Slade.
“Too bad I can’t just take this baby into the game with me,” he said, as he touched the device on his hip.
“At least in the game, you wouldn’t be barging into anyone else’s shower,” Taylor said.
“I told you I was sorry,” Slade said. His brows furrowed. “There’s a learning curve with the Phaser.”
“Vibrator,” Taylor corrected.
Slade scowled.
He’d been wearing the device Ariana and I had acquired from Dutton since I’d given it to him. Out of all of us, it was quick-acting Slade who would put the technology to best use. Even if learning to use it had been met with a few hiccups.
“Don’t blame me,” Taylor said. “That’s just what it’s—”
Through the fog of cologne and sweat, grease-filled food, and hops, cut fire and flame, sweet yet tangy tartness—Ariana. Our table went still, all eyes turned to the door waiting for the woman who commanded all of our senses, our desires, our hearts.
She stepped through the door, and her long chocolate hair bounced in loose waves back from her oval face. The depths of her brown eyes were heightened by the dark shadow on her lids. Full hips flared out from the cinched waist of her dark pants, but it was the ample cleavage that spilled out from her push-up bra that caught my eye and stirred my cock. From the two open buttons on her collar, there was the smallest suggestion of the perfection held beneath, enough to fill my palms, enough to bury my face between as I thrust my cock deep inside her—
“Good evening,” Ariana said as she reached our booth. The low rasp of her voice was like the rake of her fingers on my chest.
She slid onto the bench beside me, and I wrapped my arm around her waist.
She scooted in close and smiled. Tonight was our night. After this, it would be my turn. After this, I’d show her everything I’d intended since our first kiss.
Taylor and Slade both stared at Ariana, all prior conversation forgotten.
“Everything go well today with your clients?” Ariana asked.
“Yes.” Our voices were a chorus.
“Mine too,” she said. “But I can’t stop thinking about the Brightwater job. I really hate loose ends.”
“Thoroughness is part of what makes you so good at what you do,” Taylor said.
Ariana squeezed his hand and the scent of her desire filled my nostrils. If I pulled her any closer, she’d be on my lap. I flattened my palm over the front of her pelvis, and she leaned back against me. Her body responded just as it always did, giving to my touch.
“That stubbornness sometimes pays off.” She opened a manila folder in the center of the table and spread the contents across the metal surface.
I recognized the first three photographs as stills from the surveillance footage of the Brightwater auction.
“This...” Ariana pointed to the man who’d carried the scent of Draconda deinaboethus. “This is our thief.”
“Harry Rocksoff,” Taylor said dryly.
“Exactly,” Ariana said.
“I thought that wasn’t his real name,” Slade said.
“It’s not,” Ariana agreed.
Slade shrugged. “I’ve just been calling him Rocky in my head.”
“The alias is unknown by the Curtis Company,” I said.
“And to everyone I could think to contact, too,” Ariana said. “But Maisie found something that might help.”
She shuffled the pictures and stopped on one of two young women posing awkwardly. They stood through the moonroof of a limo with bottles of vodka in hand in front of a statue of a gargoyle atop a stallion.
“That’s where we went for the gala,” Taylor said.
Ariana nodded.
“And that’s the woman who accompanied the thief to the auction,” I said.
“Apparently Maeve posts everything on social media,” Ariana said. “There’s even a few of you guys at the auction.”
Slade scowled.
“But what I wanted to show you was this one.” Ariana pulled out a picture much like the last, but in this one, a man stood behind a sculpture. His features were difficult to make out in the blurred photograph. “Now I can’t be certain—”
“He’s hiding,” Slade said.
“Maybe,” Taylor said. “But if Harry, or whatever his real name is, was there, his distinctive scent was gone. And as far as I know, he didn’t steal anything.”
“Maybe he did,” Ariana said. “Just because there wasn’t a commotion doesn’t mean he didn’t take anything. And it’s not like Chad Curtis would call me to brag about his mistakes.”
It was all speculation. I understood the desire to find closure and catch the man who’d eluded us, but one blurry photograph was insufficient evidence to draw any conclusions.
The bearded bartender approached the table. His flannel shirt and untamed facial hair complemented his short stature and wide frame.
“Busy night,” the grizzly shifter said. He sniffed the air, then looked from Ariana to the three of us. His eyes sparkled with knowing, then just as quickly it was gone.
“Hi, Ben,” Ariana said.
“Here for a meal or just drinks?” Ben asked.
“Food.” Slade’s reply was immediate.
“All right then,” Ben said, pulling out a tablet and pencil from his back pocket. “What can I get for you?”
“The IPA for me,” Taylor said.
“I’ll have the same,” Ariana said.
“Tell me I’m not the only one who’s hungry,” Slade said, with an expectant look in my direction.
We’d eaten not long before.
“Just the beer,” I said.
“Well I’m having a burger,” Slade said. “Those cheese fries, too.”
Ben made a note in his tablet, then looked at the photos on the table.
“Maybe two orders of the cheese fries,” Slade said.
“I know this guy,” Ben said, pointing to the photograph of Rocksoff from the auction.
“You know Rocky?” Slade asked.
“Who is he?” Taylor asked at the same time.
“I didn’t catch his name,” Ben said. “He’s been by the past three days for lunch. Has he caused some kind of trouble—?”
“Did he say where he’s staying?” I asked.
“In the Arrow,” Ben said. “He’s in town for business, staying at the Arrow. In fact, he just left a couple minutes ago.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Taylor
The four of us stood up so fast, Ben took a step back in alarm.
“So, he’s a bad guy, then,” Ben said with a nervous chuckle.
“Front door or back?” Ariana asked.
Ben pointed to the back. “He took his beer out to the courtyard.”
“You have my phone number,” Ariana said. “Call me if you see him again.”
Ben nodded. “Sure thing.”
We didn’t plan, we didn’t talk over our strategy. We simply rushed out of the crowded pub.
The evening autumn air was a slap to my cheeks, but all I could think about was the thrill of the chase.
Slade, in the lead, stopped suddenly, then turned to us. “He’s across the courtyard. I can see him...but why doesn’t he smell the same?”
“We don’t have time to puzzle over that issue,” Quentin said, “as the man in question just spotted us.”
I did a quick-step around Slade so I could see. Rocksoff sat in one of the wooden benches next to an outdoor fire pit. He held his beer halfway to his mouth, frozen. His eyes widened as he took us all in.
Time seemed to move in slow motion as Rocksoff looked down to the beer in his hand, then over to us. Then he grinned.
“Look out,” I shouted, just as he hurled the bo
ttle straight at Ariana.
Quentin stepped in front of her, taking the brunt of the hit at the same time Slade and I charged forward. Ariana screamed at Quentin, asking if he was all right.
Rocksoff jumped up and leaped over the low wall bordering the courtyard.
As Slade and I rushed forward, I could hear Quentin assuring Ariana that everything was fine. I was glad she’d stopped to check on him—not because I was worried about him, but because it kept her from following this asshole.
She’d be fine, I reminded myself. She’s a badass, motherfucking dragon shifter. But this thief seemed to have magical tech we’d never encountered—who knew what he’d throw at us next. I had a feeling it would be more dangerous than a bottle of amber ale.
Slade hurtled himself over the wall, a growl emanating from his chest. If we weren’t careful, we might accidentally shift into our dragon forms. I didn’t think Ariana’s charm would hide us this close to the ground.
Quentin and Ariana were far behind us, and I didn’t hear them giving chase. They’d probably looped around the Halo, perhaps to see if they could catch Rocksoff on the other side. I wished we had our earpieces so we could communicate, but right now we were operating blind. Despite my anxiety, I knew without having to look that Quentin was sticking close by Ariana.
Although it was late, a crowd of business people was exiting the Arrow. They milled about near the entrance, chatting about plans for the evening. They’d probably just come from an after-hours meeting of some kind. Noise echoed to my right, close to the edge of the Arrow’s white walls. This thief was unpredictable. I couldn’t have him going after innocent humans.
I slowed my run and walked at a more respectable clip. Fiddling for my wallet, I pulled it out and showed them the Whitesong Security ID that Maisie had issued us when we first started.
“Hi, folks, I’m with Whitesong. We’re having a bit of a situation here at the building, so I need you to hurry on your way.”
“A situation?” one man asked, his voice high-pitched with alarm.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I said in a calm, easy voice. “We’ve got it under control but we need you to move along now so we can secure the area.”
It was nonsense talk, but they were more focused on the sound of my voice than on my actual words, so they nodded amicably and made for the rear entrance of Hiber-Nation.
Sighing with relief, I cocked my head to listen. Slade was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear footsteps around the corner of the building.
I dodged in that direction and saw the thief bolt, with Slade fast on his heels. The thief dropped something on the ground. Slade barreled past it, but I slowed to see what it was. We couldn’t afford any tricks. Tonight, we were catching this guy no matter what.
The item he’d dropped was long and thin—a blade. It had a curved hilt and a dragon on the black sheath. Holy shit, it was the Damascus dagger from Pelletier’s auction. A priceless artifact from the Lotus War.
Rocksoff was forgotten as I stared at the object. The dragon emblem was familiar, though I couldn’t explain why. The sight of it made my stomach churn, brought up an anger that had no context. Gingerly, I picked it up and carried it with me. It needed a safe place until we could get it back to Pelletier. But I also had a thief to catch.
Shaking away my brief confusion, I held tightly to the dagger and rushed around the building.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Slade
Footsteps pounded behind me, but my eyes were glued to Rocky. He was fast for a worm. His short legs took long strides. I’d seen his type while I was in the service, usually kids that planted mines.
Rocky slipped around the corner, just out of my grasp. A nearly inaudible high-pitched noise reached my ears, and Rocky dove right through solid wall without missing a step. It was like the Brightwater. But this time I had a Phaser, too.
I pushed back thoughts of getting stuck smack in the middle of a steel beam, and went for it. The Phaser lit up and made the oscillating noise.
Yeah, I’d practiced this a couple of times. But that was on inside walls. The Arrow had a thick, stone outer wall. There were probably metal beams in there. Layers of cement. I wasn’t sure how thick the wall was or how long I needed to hold down the button.
I had one shot.
If it didn’t work, I’d break my nose. If it did work, I’d catch him.
“Slade!” Ariana’s voice.
No time. I had to stay between her and Rocky. I couldn’t let him get away. Not again.
I dove at the wall.
Like wading through cold porridge, I shoved my way through the wall. It was strange, and it didn’t feel right or natural in any way. But then I was on the other side, shaking out my arms and trying to get rid of the feeling.
I saw the big reception desk by the elevators. We were in the lobby.
Rocky’s beady eyes went wide as I grabbed his sleeve. He wiggled out of his coat and kept moving.
I tossed it to the floor and charged straight at him.
He jumped through the closed doors to the elevator, using his phaser. I grabbed his foot. He pulled me into the elevator with his momentum. My arms were on the floor of the elevator, while my body stuck out somewhere below. He stood above me, on solid footing. I was phased halfway between the elevator and the elevator shaft. I wouldn’t let go. I wouldn’t be trapped like that. My shoe bounced off something metal as the box rose.
The numbers lit up as we rose higher and higher. I held tight to Rocky, as he cursed and tried to pull his leg free from my grasp. Not happening. He held onto the railing on the side of the elevator, the only thing stopping him from getting dragged down with me. I pulled, inching my body back to solid ground.
“Let. Go.” His teeth ground together as he sneered at me.
“No.”
The elevator door opened. The box stopped on the forty-sixth floor. Rocky laughed and wiggled his foot. Squirmy. He pulled himself closer to the wall, instead of trying to escape through the door.
“Where do you think—”
His shoe came loose in my hands, and he dove through the wall. I climbed up from the floor and followed.
The room I found myself in was familiar. It was a living room just like ours, but without the awesome sofas. Instead it had one of those little ones that we’d had on move-in day, hardly more than a chair.
Rocky scrambled around the counter, knocking over the bowl of balls, and jumped through the fridge. I followed.
This jump was colder than the last. Then it, too, was over. We were in the hall.
Rocky gave me a grin that made my skin crawl. Something was up.
He jumped through the wall into another suite. The door flew open and a woman and child ran out.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said, and ran through the front door.
Rocky wasn’t in the living room. His scent still lingered, like a wet wolf. What was he trying to pull?
I checked all the rooms, no sign.
There was a well-worn teddy bear on the floor by the door. I picked it up.
I went back out, and found the woman holding her little girl across the hall watching me with wide eyes.
“It’s okay now,” I said, and gave my most reassuring smile. “He’s gone.” I handed the toddler the bear.
“Thanks,” the woman said, though the scent of mistrust was all over her.
Another reason Rocky needed to be stopped. No one should ever make a woman or child feel that way.
There was a sound. A mechanical noise. Another elevator. The woman’s suite was next to another motherfudging elevator.
I ran to the closed metal doors and watched the numbers rise. Rocky was going up. And up. And up.
The stairs. I had to catch him. There wasn’t a lot of options if he continued going up, only three floors above us.
I shoved open the heavy metal door to the stairwell and took three concrete steps at a time. The mechanical hum that echoed through the open space told me I was o
n the right track.
Forty-seven. I watched the numbers each time I passed a door. Forty-eight. He was headed for the roof.
Forty-nine.
The sounds stopped. Just one more floor.
The metal push bar gave as I threw my weight into it, and the door flew open.
It was dark, with the city lights creating a glow from the buildings below. There were sounds of traffic and people beneath the howl of wind. A punching bag dangled beneath a little overhang, which also covered a set of lawn furniture and some potted plants. Even in the open air, I could feel Ariana in this place. She spent time alone up here. I could even imagine her, naked, getting ready to fly out into the moonlight.
I scanned around and sniffed, searching for the scent of wolf.
A scuffling sound reached my ears. I heard a noise, a voice, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Movement. A man in a black t-shirt and gray cargo pants lay down by the edge of the building. But the man wasn’t Rocky.
Short brown hair, the wild scent of shifter—it was the maintenance guy. Jacob? Jerry? Something like that.
“Hey,” I said, and jogged over.
Something was wrong. Where was Rocky? That voice didn’t belong to Jerry—no, his name was Jonathan. Either way, I’d heard Rocky’s voice.
“What’s going on, Jon—”
His arm hung over the edge.
He looked up at me, strain on his brow. I leaned down to see.
Beady eyes met mine. Dangling from the ledge was a thin man, small, and full of fear—Rocky.
“You caught him,” I said. I dropped to my knees to help.
“I can’t hold on,” Jonathan said, his voice tight with strain.
“No, no, don’t do it,” Rocky cried.
I reached for Rocky’s arm.
“He’s not your—” Rocky said.
Jonathan’s fingers slipped.
I tried to catch Rocky. I wasn’t fast enough. Rocky spread out his arms and screamed as he fell.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Jonathan curled into a ball, holding his knees to his chest.
Dragon Shattered_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance Page 18
