by Abigail Owen
Finn landed a hand on Drake’s shoulder, and Drake tensed, vibrating with an anger outside of his control. Hell, way over the top for a mate who wasn’t his.
He forced his muscles to ease, unclenching his fists. “I think they’re here for the team, not her. But he’s seen me with her. Cami’s scent is covered by the fire that happened for now, and she can pretend to go to her fictional class. My being dead is the biggest issue I can see.”
“You’re not dead yet,” Finn said.
Drake frowned. “What?”
“We haven’t told the Alliance you’re gone.”
Shit. “Why the hell not? That video clears you in their eyes. What if Nidhogg knows I’ve been gone? They’ll ask questions, dammit.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Finn said.
“Is there anything special about this mate we need to worry about?” Kanta asked.
The green dragon was the thinker of the bunch. Drake would bet a book delving into some ancient philosophy was somewhere nearby. A glance at the long desk showed a hardbacked tome with gold lettering that read, “Pre-Socratic Philosophies.” He almost smiled. At least some things stayed the same.
Still, this was a question Drake should’ve asked a long time ago. “Not that I know of. I didn’t ask.”
“What brand is on the back of her neck?” Finn asked.
Dammit. “I don’t know.”
“Rune would’ve warned him if it was bad,” Keighan said.
But would he? Rune did things for lots of reasons, and that included not sharing vital information on the chance it would cause more problems than it solved.
“What’s her name?” Hall asked, suddenly dead serious.
Drake turned to face him, a sense of dread sitting cold in his gut. “Cami Carrillo.”
Hall blinked and his eyes, for a split second, turned slitted and serpentine, his dragon close to the surface. Why would he care about a woman he’d never heard of?
“Was she part of the group of humans you saved from that fire this summer?” Hall asked. “The one we thought Rune set?”
Thought? Hadn’t he set it? But that small question faded as that cold dread spread through his body. He hadn’t mentioned that yet. “Yeah. That’s her. How’d you know?”
Hall’s lips flattened in a grim line.
“Hall?” Levi prompted. Drake apparently wasn’t the only one picking up on odd vibes from the man.
“Do you know something?” Finn asked.
“Shit,” Hall muttered. Then he ran a hand over his short hair, the burr of sound obvious in the silent room, and sucked in a deep breath. “I want you to remember that Rune was proven right about a lot of things, and we’re his allies now.”
Dark realization hit hard and fast like a viper delivering venom to his blood with one strike. “You’re the traitor.” Drake couldn’t have kept the anger from his voice if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.
Every man in the room loosed a growl, eyes going to flame in an instant as their dragons pushed to the surface.
Hall paled and held up hands that trembled slightly. “Rune and I had a deal. I shared only information that had to do with mates and the Alliance’s movements. Nothing that would blow back on the team. I swear.”
Drake wasn’t buying that shit. “That fire Rune set last summer almost killed Cami.”
At the memory of how the flames had reached for her, like a living thing trying to snatch the life from her body, Drake was done. He stalked forward only to have Kanta step in front of him. “Calm down.”
“I know you’re from the same clan, but you don’t want to get between us right now.”
“We all have a right to be angry.”
“He almost killed Cami,” Drake snarled. “Get out of my fucking way.”
Even Kanta flinched at the rage pouring off him. Drake lunged, knocking Kanta to the side like he was a feather pillow and went for Hall. He managed to slam his fist into the man’s face a couple times in quick succession. Except Hall didn’t fight back, taking the hits without raising a finger to defend himself.
“Fight back,” Drake snapped, then slammed a fist into Hall’s face again.
Dark red blood gushed from Hall’s nose and fire lit in his eyes, lime green adding to the host of colors flickering in the semi-dark room. Drake grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, practically lifting him off his feet, and raised his fist to do it again.
But Hall did nothing.
Drake gave him a hard shake. “Defend yourself, you worm.”
Hall spat off to the side as blood continued to ooze down his face in thick rivulets. “There’s nothing you could do to me that I haven’t already done to myself.”
Drake gave him another shake. “I could kill you. Finish the job.”
At that, Hall smiled. Though not amused, more sad, which was the only reason Drake didn’t rip his head off. “You won’t kill me, brother.”
Fuck.
Drake stared hard at Hall, flexing his hand, arm still raised to deliver more physical punishment. Except he couldn’t fucking do it.
“Goddammit.” He threw Hall to the floor and stalked away, breathing hard with the conflict ripping through him.
“Can’t say that wasn’t a long time coming,” Rivin muttered off to the side.
Drake shot him a glare that should’ve withered him to a pile of ash on the floor, but Rivin just shrugged, unconcerned.
At the tread of footsteps, he turned in time to see Finn squat in front of where Hall still lay on the floor, semi-propped up by the curved rock wall at his back, still bleeding like a spigot needed to be turned off at the source.
“Why’d you do it?” Finn asked quietly.
Hall flinched, because the quieter Finn got meant the more pissed he was. “Because Rune was right.”
From the side vantage point he had, Drake could see the way Finn’s jaw worked as he struggled with a few truths.
The team had done this. Together. Rune had been wrong to leave. He should’ve spent more time trying to convince them, win them to his way of thinking. He’d been dead wrong to bring the fight to their doorstep. For years. Causing fires, and mayhem. Hooking up with the very rogues they were sworn to hunt down.
But they’d been wrong, too. They’d been wrong to deny Rune’s observations about the mating process and the politics that were becoming too dangerous. Looking back, it was so damn obvious. But hindsight didn’t help fix shit.
“Why tell us now?” Kanta asked. He sounded tired. Hell, they were all tired.
Hall raised a hand to his nose and winced. The way it sat on his face, it was definitely broken. With both hands, Hall jerked at it, and, with a loud grunt of pain, it popped back in place with a crack that echoed in the silent room. He spat more blood on the floor beside him then looked at Kanta. “Because you won’t be able to get in touch with Rune. He’s got a…thing.”
“A thing?” Drake snapped.
Hall shrugged then winced. “He doesn’t give me details. Only what I need to help him. Plausible deniability and all that. But he’s been off the grid for several days. That much I do know.”
Except needing to ask Rune some basic questions shouldn’t have made Hall out himself. There had to be more. Dark dread seeped through his pores to lay heavy in his bones. This was about Cami. It had to be. “Why do we need Rune for this?”
“If the Alaz team is here, the Alliance can’t be far behind.” Hall pushed himself more upright with a wince. “I think you’re right. They’re not here for her. Yet. But you should know who she is. Just in case.”
Drake was getting damn sick of this long-winded explanation. “Because she’s a mate?”
Hall stared him down around the blood and swelling. Unflinching. “Because the brand she carries is yours.”
…
“A human you say?” Ogun
stared at the face on his phone screen. “Drake doesn’t seem the type.”
Nidhogg’s shrug looked more like a weird head bob from this angle, with the camera practically going straight up the gold shifter’s nose. Behind him, darkness consumed the sky and Ogun could make out the tops of trees. The spires of pine trees mixed with the broad canopies of black oaks.
“They arrived together in a car. Looks like a rental.”
“Is she merely a human lover? Or something more?”
“I couldn’t get close enough to determine,” Nidhogg whispered, close in to the microphone which picked up his heavy breathing.
Ogun practically felt the humidity from here and wrinkled his nose with distaste.
“Did she show any dragon sign? Smell of smoke?” This would be all he needed. Proof that the Huracán team were hiding yet another potential mate. He could take that to Mathai.
“Everything smells like fucking smoke,” Nidhogg hissed.
“Why are you whispering?” Ogun demanded. “Speak up.”
“He’s close,” came another hissed reply, only even more muffled.
Ogun straightened in his bed, not that the action could make him see around Nidhogg’s head on the screen “Drake?”
“Who the fuck else?”
“Does he know you’re there?”
“No. I killed a skunk and have been dragging its carcass with me everywhere to cover my trail. No way could he know.”
But Nidhogg still had to be careful. Drake’s reputation as a tracker preceded him.
“Where are you now?” Ogun asked.
“I got lucky and crossed his path while doing a night surveillance of the headquarters. He’s returning to his human now.”
Which gave him nothing. All dragons took human lovers from time to time.
“She may know what he is.”
Ogun perked up at that.
“The two scents I discovered near her home, other than Rune, were Titus and Drake. Especially Drake.”
Damn. Ogun deflated. “I need proof.”
“He’s spending most of his time with her, rather than with the team.”
“A minor infraction. Any sign of Rune?”
“None.”
Damn.
“Keep looking. I need more.”
“Shit. I have to go.” The screen went black.
Ogun hardly noticed, running through options in his head.
…
Something was wrong with Drake.
Cami could tell.
He’d been quiet since they woke up. That by itself wasn’t unusual. At least he wasn’t glowering or snapping at her parents. He was just…quiet. But not in a Drake way. More in a weird way she couldn’t pin down.
And he hadn’t looked at her once. Almost like he couldn’t.
She knew he’d left last night, though he hadn’t made a sound as he’d snuck out of her room, but she’d been awake when he went, staring at the wall like she had as a child when her mind wouldn’t allow her rest. She’d gone to her window, but he was already a ghost. He hadn’t come back till close to four in the morning. Where on earth had he gone? His team maybe? Or did he have a woman close by? Another person he’d had to give up?
Cami refused to acknowledge how her own mood had grown murkier with each passing hour he’d been away, like silt and sludge poured into clear water, turning it stagnant and thick. Soon she’d turn sour and putrid.
In an attempt to put Drake out of her head—difficult with him sitting right there—she turned to her dad. “What are we doing today?”
“We’re working on the farthest pasture. It’s in decent shape, but the fences need repair before we can move most of the herd there.”
Ugh. The farthest pasture was also the land with the highest points and the most difficult terrain to traverse, which meant by foot most of the time. Fencing the area was a pain in the ass.
“Maybe you could feed the doelings before you go?” her mother suggested.
Something to occupy her that didn’t involve thoughts. Sounded good. Cami stood and started gathering plates to clear the table. She paused as Drake did the same, moving to the sink to scrub dishes. A glance at her mother showed her small smile at the display of manners. Cami just shook her head.
Yesterday, while her mom had grilled Drake about his background, Cami had learned some things. She knew the bit about his large family was true but didn’t get a chance to ask about his growing up near the borders of Nepal and China. A large village, but still old-fashioned, he’d said. Was that code for the Red Clan’s home base of Everest?
While his father was from Nepal, his mother had come from Russia, though more Kazakhstan. He’d even managed a stiff smile, commenting on the constantly changing borders. His knowledge of human geography was fascinating. Dragons apparently kept to themselves, interacting with humans on a limited basis, but had he witnessed other aspects of human history through the years? Or did he need to know borders simply to get around? She wanted to ask, but her father and uncles had returned.
That had been entertaining.
After the initial respect moment, as soon as the bedroom situation had been made clear, her father had asked terse questions, his expression anything but impressed. Drake had replied with equally terse answers. This had gone on until her mother put a stop to it.
“Stop interrogating the boy,” she’d said in Spanish.
Cami had to bite back a smile at the “boy” reference and Drake’s immediate scowl, though he hid it quickly.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Carrillo,” Drake had replied also in Spanish. “I understand Cami is…worth protecting.”
Even now, she still warmed at the memory of those words. Had he meant them? Or had all of it been a show? Drake wasn’t the type to lie for comfort’s sake. He didn’t put people at ease. But he’d gone against his personality and bothered to try. For her family. Which sort of made her want to snuggle into him and dry hump him at the same time.
But where the hell had he gone last night?
“Where are we keeping the doelings?” Cami asked, trying to stop her colliding thoughts in favor of the practical.
“In the smaller pen.”
Up behind where the barn used to be. Like the main house, a patch of grassy fields had somehow managed to remain unscathed there.
Cami paused in scooping leftover migas into a container. What if that hadn’t been sheer luck? She glanced at Drake’s back, distracted by the play of muscles under the blue jean button-down shirt he’d worn, his movements as he did dishes economical and easy. Like he did dishes all the time.
Someone had to do dishes. Rune’s guys and the women under their care took turns with kitchen duty, both the cooking and the cleaning. No doubt Drake’s team did the same.
“Drake and I can take care of the babies.” She probably wouldn’t get him alone again today, and she needed to know where he’d been. The curiosity was eating at her like rust chewed through metal.
She slipped the leftovers into the fridge then went to stand by him, leaning a hip on the counter. “Let’s go.”
“You go.” He didn’t look at her but must’ve felt the power of her frown anyway. “I’ll finish these and come find you.”
Yeah, right. Her first instincts had been dead-on. The man was avoiding her. “Tio Matt can finish. Or Mama. You’ll love the doelings. They’re so cute.”
She didn’t miss his derisive snort, though it had been quiet. Cami grinned. “Come on.” She reached over and turned the faucet off.
He rested his hands on the sink and aimed a scowl her way, except his eyes still held a distance they hadn’t yesterday. “You’re a pest. You know that?”
“Yup.”
“My daughter is not a pest,” her father declared from the kitchen table.
Drake grabbed a towel to dry his hands
and turned to face him. “I’m sorry, sir. But Cami can be damn stubborn. Como una burro.”
Cami grabbed the towel from his hands and snapped it at him while everyone, except her father, laughed. “Come on.”
With a put-upon groan, he followed her out of the house. Cami kept her thoughts to herself as she led him around the charred remains of the barn to a fenced-in pen on the backside. Most of the area was nicely flat, and more on the green side than the gold side, thanks to recent rains most likely. Though, given the way goats ate everything in sight, more dirt than grass was left in the pen itself. The fencing went up the slope of a small hill, corralling pines and black oaks, under which the ground was covered by pine needles.
The second Drake appeared around the blackened wood that used to be the side of the barn, a tiny tan goat with a darker stipe down its back and black-and-white markings around its face and hooves gave a joyous bleat and ran over to them.
“Clover, you are so silly.” Cami laughed at the little goat’s antics as it continued to bleat and hop around.
As soon as Drake was inside the pen, Clover went wild, jumping up beside him, almost to the level of his waist, before leaping around the pen. She jumped over two of her fellow doelings, then off the back of another black one. The stockier goat tumbled to the ground with a cry of outrage. More flying about the pen, then Clover jumped on the back of another goat, paused, and did a spinning flip dismount that a parkour enthusiast would’ve been impressed with. The other goat also ended up pushed off its feet.
That didn’t stop Clover, who proceeded to circle Drake in a joyous dance. Of reunion, if Cami wasn’t mistaken. Yet another beneficiary of lives saved that day? The last thing Cami remembered before they ended up on that road away from the fire was abandoning Clover, who wouldn’t leave her mother, to run for the truck.
For his part, Drake stood, feet planted wide and arms crossed, and tried to ignore the tiny creature’s antics.
Cami pretended not to notice and went about feeding them.
But Clover, usually the best eater despite being the runt of the bunch, stayed right where she was, not leaving his side.
