by Zoe Chant
“Hope!” Ivy made a grab for her, but Hope was too fast. She zoomed away, heedless of the shifters she scattered.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Without waiting for a response, Gaze turned on his heel, starting to stroll away.
Ivy had no choice but to follow. The milling partygoers moved aside for Gaze a lot more willingly than they had for Hope. Even the toughest, most brutal-looking gang members gave way to him with respectful murmurs.
Who is this man?
Ivy couldn’t even tell what sort of shifter he was. With the scents of so many different kinds mingling in the air, mixed in with the fumes of mulled wine and the tang of evergreen boughs, it was impossible to get a good whiff of him.
His easy dominance told her one thing, though. Despite the powerful creatures all around—hyenas, vipers, even the hellhounds of the Bad Dogs—Gaze was the most dangerous person in the room.
“Who are you?” she asked warily, as he led her to the gleaming kitchen area of the vast open-plan penthouse.
“A broker, of sorts. I make connections. Bring people together for mutual benefit.” Gaze extracted a bottle of champagne from one of the many ice buckets clustered on the black marble counter. He let out a deep chuckle as he poured. “And you could call this a staff party. All the shifters here are…private contractors, shall we say, who do business with me. Very profitable business, I might add.“
Ice ran down Ivy’s spine. “Let me guess. That business isn’t exactly legal.”
Gaze smiled behind his sunglasses, pushing a glass of champagne across the counter toward her. “I’m sure you’ll appreciate that I can’t discuss past jobs. But I do maintain a small, very exclusive list of clients, who pay well for quiet solutions to delicate problems. And they would pay extremely well for someone of your particular talents.”
Ivy knew exactly how much unscrupulous people would pay for what she could do. She’d carry the shame of that until her dying day.
Never again.
She swallowed the acid rising in her throat. Much as she wanted to spit in Gaze’s face and tell him where he could stick his offer, she was standing on his territory. Surrounded by his people.
Who were also surrounding Hope.
It took all her control not to look round at her sister. Ivy picked up the champagne glass, taking a sip as cover for her furiously racing thoughts.
Have to play this cool. Make him think he’s got me interested.
“I know how much I’m worth,” she said. “Why should I let you take a cut?”
“Because I can provide what your previous employer didn’t.” Gaze leaned back, resting his elbows against the countertop. Ivy was pretty sure he knew exactly how well the posture showed off the hard swells of his biceps. “Protection. I know your previous experiences with this line of work, Ivy. You were, if I may be so blunt, appallingly wasted by Killian Tiernach. You nearly went to prison because of his mistakes.”
“Yeah, well,” Ivy muttered, the shame of the memory heating her cheeks. “He did. I don’t want to risk getting into that sort of trouble again.”
“I would never ask you to.” Gaze’s voice dropped to that deep, seductive murmur again. “A unique treasure such as yourself should never be put at risk. I would treat you as you deserved.”
Which, apparently, is from three feet away, Ivy thought with dark humor. For all his flirtatious manner, Gaze was being very careful to stay out of arm's reach.
Just like everyone did.
Ivy leaned a little closer, as though his attempt to charm her was working. To his credit, Gaze didn’t flinch, although his broad shoulders tensed.
“You’ve got my attention,” Ivy said. Under the excuse of turning to gesture at the luxurious apartment, she scanned the party for Hope. “You’re clearly doing well for yourself, and I could do with some cash. What sort of—oh, crap.”
One of Gaze’s hands shot up, touching the frame of his sunglasses. “Something wrong?”
“No. Just my irritating sister picking the worst possible moment to interrupt, as usual.” Ivy faked a grimace, putting her champagne down. “She needs me to take her to the bathroom. Where is it?”
Gaze dropped his hand again. “Just down the hall. But I’m sure I could get someone—“
“I’ll be right back,” Ivy called over her shoulder, already striding away.
Hope was deep in conversation with her fellow teens in the corner, but she broke off at Ivy’s approach. “Well?” she demanded eagerly, swiveling round. “Did you like him? Is he—“
“He wants to offer me a job.” Ivy took hold of the handlebars of Hope’s wheelchair. “We’re going to discuss the details after I’ve taken you to the bathroom.”
“What?” Hope said, as Ivy briskly wheeled her through the crowd. “I—“
“Need to go right now, I know.” Ivy desperately prayed Gaze wasn’t one of the sorts of shifters that had supernaturally good hearing. “Come on, let’s make this fast. I want to get back to the party.”
As Ivy had hoped, that finally clued her sister in that something was badly wrong. Miracle of miracles, for once Hope actually shut up.
Under the pretext of opening the door, Ivy bent level with Hope’s ear. “How’d you get up here?”
“Elevator,” Hope whispered back. “It’s that way. What’s going on?”
“Tell you once we’re out.”
Miracle of miracles, the hallway was empty. Ivy jabbed at the elevator call button with a shaking hand. Her venom sweated into her gloves as the machine crawled upward agonizingly slowly.
Come on, come on!
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She had to reduce the concentration of her venom, so that her touch would paralyze rather than kill. There was no way that a crime boss like Gaze would have left all the exits unguarded. If she couldn’t rush Hope past whatever thugs he had stationed in the lobby, she’d be forced to fight.
There was one line she’d never crossed. No matter what other terrible things she’d done, what mistakes she’d made…she’d never killed.
She’d sworn she never would.
“It’s okay, Ivy,” Hope whispered as the elevator binged at last, doors sliding open. “Everything’s going to be fine. Just breathe.”
“Leaving so soon, Ivy Viverna?”
Ivy’s hammering heart lurched. Thrusting Hope into the elevator, she spun on her heel. Gaze stood at the end of the corridor, calmly surveying her through his dark lenses. A pair of monstrous dogs padded at his side, their coal-black backs level with his waist. A hot, baleful orange light burned in the dogs’ throats, behind their snarling fangs.
Hellhounds!
“Hope, go!” Ivy yelled, jerking off her gloves.
“Not without you!” From the sounds of the doors trying and failing to close, Hope must have been holding the Door Open button.
Once, just once, Ivy wished that Hope would do as she was told. She didn’t dare take her eyes off Gaze and the hellhounds. She kept her hands raised and ready, deadly venom gleaming on her palms.
“Stay back,” she warned, fighting not to show how she was shaking. “Or I’ll show you what I can do.”
She could only pray that he wouldn’t take her up on the offer.
“I would, in fact, very much like to see your skills.” Gaze’s hand went to his sunglasses, sliding them down his nose. “But first, I’ll show you mine.”
He looked straight at her.
The force of his eyes took her breath away. They were red, red as blood, from edge to edge. No pupil, no white. Nothing but crimson, filling her vision, swallowing her whole.
Ivy couldn’t look away. A strange fire filled her blood, like nothing she’d ever known. In all the world, there was nothing but him, and her.
Holy crap. He really is my mate!
Then, as the burning heat in her veins continued to rise, Ivy realized that her one true mate probably shouldn’t set her aflame with pain.
“I did say we had much in common, Ivy,” Gaz
e murmured. His mouth curved in slight, strangely wistful smile. “Wyverns are nearly as rare as basilisks.”
“Hey, asshole!” Hope yelled. “Think fast!”
Something pink and glittery hurtled past Ivy’s shoulder. Gaze’s eyes flickered, instinctively tracking the motion.
Ivy was never, ever going to complain about Hope’s terrible taste in handbags again. Her paralysis broke the instant Gaze was distracted. Before the basilisk could capture her again with his stare, she squeezed her own eyes tight shut.
“Hope, go!” Ivy shouted, and gave herself up to her wyvern.
It surged up from her soul in an emerald storm of teeth and rage. The corridor would have been too small for a proper dragon to shift, but when her wings were folded, Ivy was only the size of a large horse.
Still keeping her eyes closed, she braced herself on her folded wing-joints, and breathed out a blast of acid. Her wyvern wanted to melt the flesh from her enemy’s bones, but she held her full strength in check.
Even a mild dose of her acid was still enough to hurt. Yelps of pain echoed down the corridor. She hoped she’d gotten the basilisk, but she didn’t dare open her eyes to check.
To her eternal relief, she heard the elevator doors slide shut behind her. Hope was finally on her way to safety.
Ivy blindly breathed out another covering blast of acid, half-spreading her wings to make sure no one was trying to sneak past. No yells this time, so she guessed Gaze and his shifters must have retreated.
The elevator binged, counting down floors as it descended. Ivy frantically tried to remember how tall the apartment building was. It would surely only take a few minutes for the elevator to reach the lobby.
Got to find a window. Fly down to meet Hope, get her to safety—
Something crashed into her, knocking her head over tail backward. She slammed into the wall, her attacker a cold, hard weight on top of her. She was only poisonous to the touch in human form; in wyvern form, her armored scales covered her venomous skin.
Powerful coils wrapped around her body. They squeezed, trying to crush the life out of her. It took all her willpower not to open her eyes.
Spit! Strike! Kill!
Completely disoriented, Ivy unleashed a blast of acid—not the diluted form she’d used before, but her full, steel-melting strength. Her unseen assailant let go of her, slithering away as she blindly whipped her head from side to side.
Walls sizzled, melting under her deadly breath. Sparks showered over her scales as the acid ate through electricity cables. The whole building shook as the power went out. The music still emanating from the party abruptly went dead.
And in the sudden hush, Ivy heard the deep, metallic groan of the elevator cable giving way.
Chapter 2
Hugh Argent had a splitting headache. As usual.
It was rather ironic, considering that as a paramedic he was carrying an emergency kit full of modern medicine’s finest painkillers. But not even morphine could do anything to help the migraine brought on by close proximity to non-virgins.
Being a unicorn shifter was, quite literally, a pain.
“You all right back there, Hugh?” Dai asked from the driver’s seat. The red dragon shifter glanced over his shoulder, looking concerned. “I can hear you grinding your teeth from here.”
“I’m fine,” Hugh snapped, forcing himself to unclench his jaw. “It’s just that this bloody overgrown fish is taking up all the space.”
Next to him in the rear seat, John Doe obligingly tried to fold himself smaller. This was about as effective as a carp trying to fit into a teacup. No matter how the sea dragon twisted his seven-foot-tall bulk, his legs or elbows jabbed into Hugh.
Just the briefest contact was like brushing against an electric fence. Even the layers of fire-resistant turn out gear Hugh wore couldn’t do anything to protect him from the searing jolt of touching someone who wasn’t chaste. And unfortunately, since John had found his one true mate last year, he was extremely unchaste.
“I am sorry, shield-brother,” John rumbled, giving up. Despite his efforts, he’d invaded Hugh’s personal space so thoroughly, he’d practically conquered it in the name of the sea dragon Empress. “This vehicle is not built for my kind, I fear. Please tell me if there is anything I can do to alleviate your discomfort.”
How about keeping it in your pants for one night? Hugh wanted to say. Let your mate get some sleep for once. It’s a wonder the poor woman isn’t walking bow-legged by now.
But he had to hold his tongue. John and Dai couldn’t know the real reason for his grumpiness. They didn’t even know what sort of shifter he was.
Fire Commander Ash was the only person Hugh had ever told. He’d had to, in order for the Phoenix to allow him to join the all-shifter Alpha Fire Team.
Hugh could trust Ash’s discretion—the reclusive Phoenix was even more tight-lipped than Hugh himself. But sharing his true nature with the entire team…? That would be inviting disaster.
Staying aloof kept him alive. He couldn’t tell his colleagues what he was, no matter how much his secretiveness distanced him from them.
Of course, some distance is starting to sound a lot more appealing, these days.
Hugh sighed, rubbing his pounding forehead. With four of his five colleagues now mated, Alpha Team wasn’t the peaceful refuge it had once been. Much as he tried to be happy for his friends’ happiness, the brutal fact was that he now spent every working moment feeling like they were collectively driving a fire axe through his skull.
He couldn’t even hope that their enthusiasm for carnal pursuits might wear off over time. Dai had been joined to his mate for over three years now, and Hugh could tell that they still spent practically every night dancing the horizontal tango.
Dai caught his eyes in the rear-view mirror. “What are you glaring at me for?”
“Nothing,” Hugh muttered. “Just thinking how nice it would be if your toddler wasn’t such a good sleeper. Are we there yet?”
“Actually, yes.” The red dragon shifter parked the fire truck outside a towering apartment block. The power seemed to be out—despite the late hour, all of the windows were dark. “This is it, according to Dispatch. Let’s go.”
Grabbing their gear, they piled out of the truck. The searing agony in Hugh’s head diminished to a dull throb as he trailed Dai and John into the building at a discreet distance. He easily ignored the familiar low-level pain, focusing on the job at hand.
“East Sussex Fire and Rescue,” Dai called, aiming his flashlight at a small knot of people clustered at one end of the lobby. “Which of you—hey!”
The group had taken one look at the approaching firefighters and scattered like startled rabbits. Hugh jumped back as a group of men barged past him, practically sprinting for the door.
“I don’t know who those were, but they were definitely shifters,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the unmistakable canine scent still hanging in the air. “And evidently ones with guilty consciences.”
“Songs of our deeds have spread wide,” John said, sounding rather satisfied about that fact. “Wrong-doers flee rather than face our wrath.”
“I suppose we’re not exactly hard to recognize,” Dai said, glancing wryly up at the towering, indigo-haired sea dragon. “But someone here called for the fire department.”
“That was me.”
As one, they all turned their flashlights in the direction of the voice. A tall teen girl wearing black motorbike leathers flinched under the beams of light, her shoulders hunching defensively. Her eyes flicked in the direction of the exit.
“It’s all right,” Dai said, his lilting Welsh voice gentle. “You aren’t in trouble. We just want to know how we can help.”
The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking on the verge of flight. “There was, there was a fight. Up in the penthouse. The elevator broke—please, you have to rescue her!”
“Someone’s trapped in the elevator?” Hugh asked.
The gi
rl nodded. “On the tenth floor, I think, but Gaze wouldn’t let anyone go look. There was a big crash.”
Dai turned his flashlight, scanning the darkness. “Show us the way.”
The girl bit her lip, her face creasing in an agony of indecision. “I can’t, Gaze told us all to scatter—I gotta go before my pack notices I’m not with them. Please, hurry!”
“Wait-“ Dai started, but he was talking to her back. The dragon shifter blew out his breath in exasperation as she bolted out the door. “Well, at least we know why we’re here.”
Damsels in distress, Hugh’s inner unicorn whispered. Hurry!
John was looking worried. “This ‘elevator’…that is the unnatural box that defies gravity, is it not? Will any be alive to rescue, if it has plummeted from a great height?”
“Don’t worry, elevators are packed with safety features,” Dai said absently, still searching the lobby for a way up. “We’ll just be rescuing whoever’s trapped inside from boredom. I bet Hugh won’t even have anything to do.”
“How refreshing,” Hugh said. He picked out a door across the lobby with the beam of his flashlight. “There’s the stairs. Let’s go to work.”
Despite Dai’s confidence, a strange sense of urgency twisted Hugh’s gut. His unicorn was agitated, the silver glow of its horn bright as the moon in his mind’s eye. It was all he could do to hold it back, following Dai and John up the stairs rather than shoving past them and charging ahead at full speed.
“Hold a moment, my brothers.” John stopped, his head cocked to one side. “What is that sound?”
In the pause, they all heard it—the low, inhuman groan of metal subject to unbearable stress.
Metal on the verge of breaking.
Dai’s eyes met Hugh’s. “So much for safety features,” the red dragon said grimly. “Come on!”
They took the steps three at a time now, their work boots thumping on the treads. A few mundane humans were milling uncertainly around on the tenth floor, evidently drawn from their apartments by the power cut.
“Oh!” An elderly woman clutched her nightgown closer around her at their sudden appearance. “Is there a fire? Should we evacuate?”
