by C. I. Black
His heart pounded. An inch, less than an inch, and their noses would touch. “I said almost fainted.”
“Dinner, however, sounds like a solid idea.” But her eyes said she wanted more than just dinner.
The front door banged open and Jones’s gaze jumped over his shoulder.
“Did you need anything else, Special Agent?” Raven asked.
Capri growled. She actually growled.
Something had really gotten under her skin.
“No, Ms. Mitchelle,” Ryan said—it didn’t look as if Capri was going to answer. He slid past Capri to the car, got in behind the wheel, and waited for her to bring all her ferocious energy into the confinement of the Camaro.
The passenger door jerked open, and Capri slid into the seat beside him. Her expression was dark, but it was an anger mixed with electrifying attraction. “We need to talk.”
Talking wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. “Yes, we do.”
Her phone chirped, and she pulled it from her pocket. “Jones.”
Someone said something, the voice a deep rumble. Her expression hardened. “Got it.”
“What’s up?”
“I have to go.”
“Where to?”
“You can’t come.” She glanced at the mansion.
“You’re not taking my car and leaving me here. I’m not asking Ms. Mitchelle to call me a cab.” Certainly not after she’d lied to him. Of course, if Capri left him here, he could pound on the door and demand real answers. “And you’re in no condition to drive.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” She growled again and ice slid across his sinuses. “Get out.”
He ground his teeth against the sudden freeze. “No. Where are we going.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you.”
“So tell me where to drive.”
The cold billowed, rushing over his head. He wanted to get out. Let her do her job. He didn’t want to get involved with FBI business.
But he didn’t want to leave her alone. What if wherever she was going was where his future flash would take place? He needed to be there to save her, since she’d never believe him if he told her the truth. “Where. Am. I. Driving?”
“You’re not.” A chill edged her voice. It joined with the freeze in his face. So damned cold. He wanted to get out.
But it was colder outside than in the Camaro.
Get out.
He reached for the handle.
No. He couldn’t leave her alone.
He turned the engine on. “Where. To?”
The ice in his face snapped, exploding in frozen agony behind his eyes.
Capri gasped. She pressed her thumb to her temple. “We’re going to The Mansion, the club near Ingram and Orchard.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” But God, that might have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and he had no idea why. He forced a smile, but from Capri’s dark look and growl, he must have bared his teeth instead.
* * *
Capri’s head hurt. Mother of All, did it hurt. She’d never felt anything like it, not in the hundreds of years she’d been able to manipulate humans. And now twice in as many days Miller had resisted her earth magic. It just wasn’t possible.
And yet a part of her thrilled at the thought. Here was a man who could resist her manipulation. But it wasn’t supposed to matter. She was supposed to have relationships with drakes. She couldn’t manipulate her own kind. But she didn’t want any of her fellow drakes. She wanted Ryan… No, Eric… No—
She didn’t know anymore. And yet, she did. Eric had never flashed his teeth at her like Ryan had. It had taken everything she had not to grab him and kiss him right there.
He gunned the Camaro out of the driveway, and she clutched her seat belt, focusing on it digging into her hand. Ignore the headache. Ignore Ryan and the hot desire burning through her.
Swipe had said they had a line on one of the mages who’d escaped from the warehouse, possibly Eddie Boyd. That was what she needed to focus on. One thing at a time. She’d deal with all the questions about Nero and Grey once she had time to sit and really think about it.
Right now she and Miller were only five minutes away from Boyd’s location at The Mansion, a popular gentlemen’s club in a massive old Victorian house that sat atop a hill on the edge of town—except there was nothing gentle about the place. It was a strip club, with gaudy lights, bad food, and overpriced beer that drew the dregs of male society and the curious young.
Given how this was just a cell phone ping and Gig wasn’t certain if there was actually a mage on the other end, they weren’t going to inform Diablo. That and the leak in the Asar Nergal made contacting him before the last possible minute a bad idea. But that didn’t mean someone shouldn’t get there as fast as dragonly possible.
With luck, the phone would be on one of the mages, Capri would be able to recognize him, and they’d be able to corner him. And corner him in private, since containing the memories of a large crowd was difficult at the best of times. Worst case, she’d search the club and not notice a mage aura, then Gig would show up and pinpoint the phone.
Here was hoping nothing magical happened. With her headache, trying to manipulate a crowd was going to be a nightmare. Without a doubt, she wouldn’t be able to convince Miller to stay in the damned car, which meant she was going to have to deal with him and Swipe in the very least. This was going to be one head-aching mess.
The Camaro fishtailed around a corner. Miller turned into the spin, the wheels caught, and he evened out into his lane as if nothing had happened.
No, the nightmare was what she was going to have to do when all this was over. The more time Miller spent with her, the more likely he’d figure out something weird was up—if he hadn’t already. He’d never be able to figure out the truth, never know she was a dragon, that was beyond human understanding—and knowing the truth broke most humans, shattering their minds.
But Ryan was starting to resist her earth magic. She didn’t know if she’d be able to surgically erase the last few days. And doing a full memory wipe was out of the question. She wasn’t going to do that to him. But not doing any of the options meant disobeying Dragon law.
Miller pulled into the parking lot at the club and cut the engine. “So.”
No matter what she wanted, the odds of getting him to wait in the car were next to nothing. Even if she made him promise to stay, she was certain he’d sneak out after she’d gone inside. It would be what she’d do.
“So. I’m here to see if I can recognize a suspect. Eddie Boyd. 5’9”, Caucasian, dark wild hair and beard. In desperate need of a shave and haircut.”
“And if we see him?”
“We keep eyes on him until the rest of my team can get here.” And Miller stayed out of the line of fire. The last time they’d run into these mages, Swipe had gotten shot. He could heal. Miller couldn’t. “Listen, these guys are dangerous.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You did not just say that. I am a cop, remember.”
Yeah, but he wasn’t used to this kind of danger. She still didn’t know all of the earth magics these mages possessed, but regardless, any magic was dangerous for a human. Mother of All, she shouldn’t have let him come along.
“Fine.” She shoved open her door. “Stupid, stubborn…” God damned human.
“I heard that.”
Oh, shit. Did she say that out loud?
“It’s a Y chromosome thing. We men, we get ridiculous ideas in our heads that our friends may need backup, and then you just can’t shake us.”
Relief flooded her. Thank God. He thought she’d been talking about his gender.
She marched across the icy lot to the path leading to the front door.
Ryan fell into step beside her, as if they’d worked together for more than just two days. “Don’t worry, we grow on you.”
“Kind of like a fungus?”
“Gee, couldn’t think of anything wittier to add?”
She
shot him a heated look and flashed just a hint of teeth—she couldn’t resist.
He grinned back. A stunning show of teeth that flamed the burn within her into an inferno. She didn’t care he was human. And most of her no longer cared that he looked like Eric. Eric never smiled at her like that. He’d never thrilled at the prospect of a fight. Mother of All, she wanted to know Ryan Miller.
And that wouldn’t happen if some stupid mage killed him.
“Tell me you’re still carrying a sidearm.”
“Yes. I’ve got your back. It is just surveillance.”
Yeah, and in her line of work surveillance could turn ugly. When Swipe showed up and saw Miller, it certainly would get ugly.
She’d cross that bridge when she got to it.
“Remember, I’m in charge.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it any other way.”
Snow at the front of The Mansion had been cleared from the front walk and the three dozen narrow steps leading up to the porch, but that was as far as maintenance seemed to go with the place. The building sagged, and a heavy slick of filth coated the blacked-out front windows. Music blared through the door, rattling the windows in their frames. A heavy-set man wearing an open leather jacket—that likely couldn’t close around his girth—greeted them with a scowl, but didn’t give them trouble.
Inside, throbbing music and a cloud of machine-made smoke enveloped them. The smell of the place hit Capri before her night vision kicked in: stale beer, vomit, and unwashed bodies. Yeah, gentlemen’s club indeed.
She and Miller stood at the mouth of what would have been a vast, sunken living and dining room. Tables and chairs filled the area between them and the stage at the back. The entire left side was the bar, and on the right were booths for more private seating.
The place was packed with mostly men but there were a few women among them. The music changed and the crowd by the stage cheered as a woman in a gold bra and thong and a gauzy something over top strode out to perform.
Ryan leaned close. “Do you see him?”
His breath slid across her neck and cheek, drawing a delicious shiver that she struggled to ignore. She searched the crowd, but even with her night-sight there were too many people for her to find anyone at just a glance. “Not yet. We need to get to a more suitable vantage point.”
“I agree.”
He slid an arm around the back of her waist and drew her close. Another shiver raced over her. The heat from his body enveloped her. She could be this way forever, wrapped in his arms and pressed against him, but with less clothes—definitely less clothes.
She bit back a groan. Focus on the damned job. She could undress him later.
No, never later. He was a human.
She eased away, putting space between them—horrible, desperately needed space.
“Let’s try over here.” She slipped through the crowd toward the bar, knowing he’d follow. She could feel him at her back, his aura brushing hers. Which was impossible. She couldn’t sense auras that way—only see them—and besides, he didn’t have one.
She forced her gaze to slide over the crowd, searching for a real aura, any telltale flicker that could indicate a mage. The music pounded around her, bodies pressed close—Ryan pressed close…
No. Focus.
There. A flicker of something at the edge of the stage, near the back. Wild dark hair, bushy beard. It was Boyd.
“Hey, isn’t that the guy from the warehouse?” Miller asked.
“Yep.” She checked her watch. Ten more minutes until Swipe and Gig showed up. She pulled out her phone and dialed Swipe.
“Yeah?” he growled over the phone.
“I’ve got eyes on Boyd. What’s your ETA?”
“Five minutes. Keep your head. The others might be there as well.”
Ryan stepped close again.
Keeping her head would be easier said than done.
Boyd’s gaze jumped over the room. Capri pulled Ryan around, putting him between her and Boyd. She leaned into Ryan’s chest, letting his warmth and strength envelope her again.
“He’s searching the room, isn’t he?” Ryan asked.
Why did he have to be sexy and smart, too? It made everything so much more complicated. She fought to concentrate past that thought and the feel of Ryan’s rock-hard chest under her fingers. But, boy, was it difficult.
She peered around his biceps to watch Boyd. The mage shifted on his stool, his gaze still jumping over the crowd. She couldn’t tell if he was waiting for someone or just keeping a nervous watch for trouble.
Then his gaze landed on her and his eyes widened. He couldn’t have possibly recognized her, hiding behind Ryan. But the recognition was clear. He had to be able to see auras and knew she was a dragon.
He scrambled off his stool, jerked to the back, and dashed through the employees only door.
“Shit.” Capri pushed around Ryan and shoved through the men between her and Boyd. She shouldered open the employee door and drew her firearm. Boyd raced to the end of the hall. He shoved aside a girl in fluttery red feathers and stumbled to the back exit.
He was getting away and they needed him alive to identify the rest of the mages.
She subvocalized her power word and shoved her magic into his head. “Stop.”
Pain exploded across her temples. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed the wall to keep her balance.
Miller drew his sidearm.
Boyd staggered. He wrenched around to face her, his expression going blank for a heartbeat. With a growl, he drew a gun, but his hands shook, ruining whatever aim he had. “Get out of my head, snake!”
“Put the weapon down.” Agony burned through her. Her earth magic wavered, the thread in his mind thinning and growing weak.
The muscle in Miller’s jaw twitched.
“I said, get out!” Boyd fired. The bullet zinged into the wall beside her head.
Miller yanked her behind him and fired, hitting Boyd in the shoulder.
Boyd scrambled out the back door.
Son of a—
“We need him alive.” She grabbed Miller and jerked him to face her. “And if you pull me behind you again, I’ll shoot you myself.”
She shoved past him and rushed to the door. Boyd was getting away and all she wanted was to stay in the hall and kiss Ryan.
CHAPTER 26
Ryan rushed after Capri, out the back door and into the parking lot. He had no idea what the hell had just happened. Capri hadn’t shot at Boyd even after he’d fired at her. She’d just stood there, staring at him. Instinct had kicked in: protect Capri, and he’d fired.
If he’d been thinking, he should have known Capri would have been pissed at that. And yet, she hadn’t fired back. Even a rookie on his first day knew that when shot at by a cornered suspect, you fired back.
Now Eddie Boyd had probably gotten into a car, and they’d lost him. But Capri ran across the lot to the snow bank on the far side. She crouched, her gun in one hand, her other pressed against the frozen asphalt. She squeezed her eyes shut, her pain clear. Something was wrong, but he hadn’t seen any blood on her in the hall, so she couldn’t have been shot.
“You got him good.” She pointed to the dark blood in the snow.
“I should have aimed for his leg.”
“Center of mass is always the safer bet when they’re firing at you.” She pulled out her phone. “Boyd recognized me and ran. He’s injured and in the industrial park behind the club. Have Gig zone in on my phone.”
She pocketed her phone and straightened. More pain flashed across her expression. With a growl, she climbed over the snowbank. Beyond lay twenty feet of unfenced yard with towering evergreens and maples. Three paths had been trampled into the snow, each going to adjoining streets or parking lots. Capri scanned the ground for a second, no more than two, then followed the one to the right. There, a few feet down, were more drops of blood.
Ryan had no idea how she’d managed to spot that in the dark so fast. There was so much more t
o this woman than met the eye. “What’s the ETA on backup?”
“Three minutes.” She picked up the pace.
Ryan followed, scanning the area for signs of Boyd.
The uneven path led around a clump of pines and down a steep incline to an auto wrecker’s lot. Skeletons of dead vehicles crowded the partially plowed lot, creating dark nooks and towering walls of rusted metal.
Ryan held his breath, straining to hear Boyd’s steps on the icy ground. The man had to be running. It was the only way for him to get so much distance between them, but the wrecker’s yard was silent. The wind hissed and the dead vehicles groaned, but still no sound of Boyd. Where the hell was he?
Capri knelt and pressed her fingers to something dark on the trail again. More blood. They were still on his path.
“This way,” she said, her voice low.
She skirted around a row of school bus shells into a wider area with a squat metal structure on the far side. A large garage door took up most of the one side, big enough for a big rig to drive in. Beside it stood a small human-sized door. A light above the small door cast an orange semi-circle on the ground, catching in the ice, and revealing streaks of sand that had been haphazardly strewn on the ground.
Capri stopped at the edge of the buses. “The trail leads to the door.”
“How—?”
“The door handle. It’s smeared with blood.”
He squinted. There might be a dark smudge on the door, but from this distance it was barely visible and might not be blood. “I’d say that’s just a guess.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Or maybe I’m just that good.” Her tone suggested she was good at other, more intimate things as well.
“I’m sure you are.”
A hint of pain edged her eyes, and she blew out a quick breath, the mist curling around her face. “He’s bleeding and needs medical attention. I’m guessing he’s hoping there’s a first aid kit in the garage. At the very least, we have to check the doors and clear it, unless we can find a blood trail going around the building.”
“I’ll—” He was going to say take point, but doubted she’d let him. Even if she was feeling bad enough that she needed him to take point, she couldn’t risk letting a detective from a different town with a questionable record ruin this, whatever this was. “I’ll cover you.”
