by Leela Ash
Ironically, they actually had. Heart hammering, Savannah ran through her escape routes. The door behind her was locked. There was a great view from the balcony – and a four-story drop to the ground.
No way out. So, stall. Keep talking. Keep looking for an opportunity.
“You work for the Fangs, don’t you? You told them who Nemo was. Josh Bentley must have found that out.” She felt a flash of pride at her calm, steady voice. If Todd expected her to weep, scream, or beg, he would be sadly disappointed.
“Congrats. Figured that out a little too late, though.”
“That must be why you−”
“Savannah, Savannah.” The disdain in his chuckle grated. “No more stalling. ‘We’ end, here and now.”
Chapter 13.
Six hours before that knock on Savannah’s door, Jordan surveyed his latest ‘prison’ with dry amusement. Only the best for a Dragon.
Finn Donnelly’s penthouse hotel suite came with its own patio, complete with a hot tub and panoramic views out over the desert. Living room, dining room, and three full bedrooms.
It was the finest prison Jordan had ever been in. Couldn’t ask for a better place to spend his last night on Earth.
The entertainment left something to be desired, however. Donnelly and Briggs escorted him here after the trial. One of them stayed with him at every step. He didn’t intend to escape, but if he had any such delusion, the two Dragons squelched it. As soon as they arrived, Donnelly began to interrogate him about the Fangs of Apophis. Who was in charge. Where their facilities were. What plots they had brewing.
Jordan told him everything he knew, holding nothing back.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d help us, were you?” A grudging respect warmed Donnelly’s words. “Can’t swear it’ll help you at tomorrow’s trial but, well, I appreciate it.”
One hour later, Todd Manning arrived – just as he’d been ordered. The Bear clutched a thick folder. Presumably, the evidence he planned to present to prove Josh Bentley’s guilt.
Donnelly leaned back with his arms stretched along the back of the couch. A friendly, relaxed posture – and one completely at odds with the suspicious glint in the Dragon’s eyes. “Let’s hear it.”
Todd paused, frowning at Jordan. “Shouldn’t he be somewhere else?”
“Nope. I want him right here where I can see him.”
“But he’s a Fang. Some of this information touches upon our spy network and−”
“Look, tomorrow, Beaumont’s either going to be dead or one of us. So, say what you have to say.”
Rendered speechless by the other Dragon’s lack of subtlety, Manning just kept blinking. Jordan, however, found it refreshing.
The man lets you know exactly where you stand.
Obedient, Manning presented his evidence.
And got grilled. For three intense, grueling hours. Every one of his points withstood the scrutiny, but the Bear’s shirt was soaked in sweat by the time the Dragons finished with him.
In the end, Donnelly squinted at the clock. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to run this to almost midnight, but I trust you understand.”
“Of course, sir. Of course.” Manning mopped his forehead with his sleeve.
“You’ll be at the trial tomorrow, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. We’ll talk tomorrow night about where we go now.”
“Thank you.” Hands were shaken, pleasantries were exchanged. Manning retreated and left the three of them sitting in silence.
A stillness that lasted for three minutes, until Donnelly turned to Jordan and said, “So, what did you think of that?”
The Worm chuckled. “I assume you ask because I, as a former Fang of Apophis, am the resident expert in treachery?”
“Right in one.”
Under better circumstances, he could like this Dragon. “The man’s lying. I can’t prove that, but he reads wrong. Too nervous. Too well prepared.”
“I felt much the same,” Briggs interjected.
“I can see a couple spots where his story might fall apart. Talk to Ghost of the Sand Pack. Manning says those emails prove Bentley was a traitor. Well, electronic data can be faked. Ghost will tell you if they’re real. Also, I’d talk to SueSue Mint.”
Donnelly grimaced. “Might be hard to find her now.”
“Rats do tend to hide after one of their own gets killed. But Ms. Mint is Rex Fairburn’s babysitter. I’m sure he can get in touch with her.”
“What purpose would that serve, though?” Briggs asked.
“Manning claimed that Bentley was going to blow up the trial room, and he had the C-4 explosives to ‘prove’ it. Well, you don’t just pick that stuff up at Home Depot. This trial came out of the blue. No warning. Our saboteur only had a couple hours to prepare for it, which is nowhere near enough time to get a bunch of explosives shipped from the Fangs. Whoever he is, the guy got that C-4 himself. SueSue Mint’s a Rat. She knows the black market around here, and where you’d make that kind of purchase.”
Donnelly nodded. “If we find the seller, we find out who he sold it to.”
“He might not have names, but even a mortal would notice the physical differences between a Bear and a Rat.”
The Dragon squinted at him. “You’re pretty good with this treachery stuff.”
“It is a prerequisite for surviving in the Fangs.”
Another glance at the clock. Now it was midnight. Strange, he didn’t feel tired, not even after the day’s events. An odd tension had seized him, a fit of very uncharacteristic nerves.
Briggs, however, stifled a yawn.
“Why don’t I take the first watch?” Donnelly suggested.
Right. This was still a prison, no matter how comfortable it might be. The black Dragon retired, leaving just the two of them.
“Door stays open when you go to bed,” Donnelly said. “No offense, but I want to keep an eye on you.”
The thought of sleep made his skin actually crawl. It would be… a sin. Remiss… There was something he ought to be doing.
All of which were foolish thoughts, vapors he would not share with the Dragon. “I’m not tired. Why don’t I continue my report on the Fangs?”
“Fine by me. I’m going to be up all night. Well, until Briggs gets his beauty sleep.”
The interrogation distracted Jordan for a time. Yet his unease remained, lurking beneath the questions. A nagging feeling, as if he was failing. Failing someone again.
I owe no loyalty to the Fangs. I cannot possibly blame myself for betraying them.
By quarter to 2:00, even Donnelly noticed. “You okay? You’re fidgeting like… well, like an addict who’s overdue for his next fix. Tell me you’re not a junkie…”
“No. Not in... well, over a century. But…”
“But?” The Dragon leaned forward, full attention on him.
“But…” No point trying to save his dignity. Donnelly already knew something was amiss. “Do you sense anything?”
“Like?”
“I don’t know. Something wrong. Something… something’s not right.”
“You gotta be more specific than that.”
“Magic, maybe?”
Donnelly snorted. “I’m no Hare. I wouldn’t sense magic if Doc Strange himself stood in front of me and blasted me in the face. Do you want me to get someone from Sedona?”
At 2:00 am? “No, that’s not necessary. It would be foolish.”
“What’s foolish is ignoring facts,” the Dragon countered. “Describe exactly what you’re feeling.”
Dammit, this was embarrassing! “I feel as though something is wrong. There’s something I ought to be doing, something important, and I’m not. I’m failing.”
“Failing who?”
“No idea.”
“Doesn’t sound like a ‘Come Hither’ spell. Any other nasty Fang magics you know about?”
In his anxiety, he’d completely forgotten about the spell, one that let a Hare summon the
ir victim to their doom. “No spells that will affect a person at a distance, no.”
“Hmm. When did this start?”
“A couple hours ago. Right after Manning left.”
For some reason, that answer made the Dragon frown. “Do you want to go someplace?”
“You mean for a beer or something? I think the resort’s bar is closed.”
“No, not for beers. Stop thinking, just feel. Do you feel like you need to go someplace?”
Jordan’s first instinct was to scoff. Yet when he stilled his restless mind, he did feel a tug. An urge to get up and leave. “Oh hell, maybe this is a Summoning!”
“Where do you want to go?”
“That way.” He pointed off in a direction that meant nothing to him.
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” he snapped. “I just feel like something… like life would be better if I was out there. Safer.”
“Huh.” Both men stared into the darkness. Lights sparkled in the distance where Jordan had pointed. Other hotels and resorts, no doubt, gleaming in the night.
“This has to be a Summoning. Fortunately, those are easy to resist once you’ve noticed them.”
“Or…” A sly grin spread across Donnelly’s broad face. “I could wake Briggs up and the three of us could follow your Summons. Give the Fangs at the other end one hell of a surprise!”
“They’ll be prepared to take down a Worm.”
“That just means it’ll be a big fight!” The delight on his face made Jordan want to chuckle. The man truly was as excitable as a mastiff that−
Without warning, the world dropped out from beneath him. A primal need tore through him, so strong, so irresistible that it almost felt like terror. And a voice he had not heard in over a century suddenly rang in his head.
WE NEED TO GO NOW! SHE IS IN DANGER!
Jordan didn’t need to ask who ‘she’ was.
Savannah.
Our Mate!
“No!” he screamed. Donnelly shied away from him, shocked by the outburst. “I have to go!”
“Beaumont, wait! Get a hold of yourself! It’s a spell.”
“No!” The word came out as a long, drawn out hiss. Power washed over him, the touch of a spirit he thought long dead. Under its touch, his body grew. Skin hardened into scales, claws and fangs sprouted. “I am leaving!”
“Briggs!” Donnelly bellowed. “Get out here, now!”
He grabbed Jordan’s arm as he summoned his own Dragon.
Without a thought, the Worm backhanded him. A casual blow that sent the Dragon flying through the air and slamming into the wall.
Then, he was running, crying out to his Shifter soul, and from the darkest recesses of his heart, his Dragon answered. One step and he dropped to all four. A great, serpentine tail unfurled. Razor-sharp talons dug into the patio and he threw himself over the edge. As Donnelly scrambled to his feet, Jordan leaped into the air, wings spreading wide.
No, not wings.
Bones, with scraps of leathery flesh clinging to them.
For too long, his Dragon had rotted in despair. Now, when he finally needed it, it could not help him. Nothing mattered more to a Dragon than its Mate, and his Dragon longed – with every inch of its heart – to fly to Savannah’s rescue.
But it couldn’t. Tattered shreds beat feebly at the air as his Dragon fought to fly by will alone.
It wasn’t enough. Jordan plummeted, flailing past six floors, and slammed into the ground.
The impact cracked the pavement and set off every car alarm in the parking lot. Yet, enough of his Dragon’s power remained to shield him from that drop. He staggered to his feet, ignoring the shrill wails.
The fall didn’t matter. His wings didn’t matter.
Only Savannah. And he still knew where she was.
Out into the desert, he galloped, cacti and thorns shattering against his thick scales. They tore at the shreds of his wings, a feeble attack he paid no mind.
Nothing would distract him. Nothing would stop him.
Overhead, wings beat the air, slow and heavy. Donnelly, probably. Or he and Briggs both.
No time to explain. Words meant delay, and delay was death. He dodged, hoping to throw his pursuers off.
But a Dragon in the air was the world’s most deadly predator. Donnelly stooped, dropping from the sky like a hawk. The white Dragon plowed into his back with the force of a freight train. The blow slammed Jordan into the ground and drove the air from his lungs.
Frantic to escape, to save his Mate, he snapped at his captor. But Donnelly had him pinned, dagger-sized fangs mere inches from Jordan’s neck. In Marakeen, the ancient tongue of Dragons, he hissed, “Resist! It’s a spell! You’re stronger than it!”
“No!” he shrieked in the same language; one he’d thought forgotten. “My Mate is in danger! My Mate!”
Shocked, the white Dragon reared back. For one moment, the grip of his claws weakened. That was the mistake Jordan needed. With a swift, fluid motion, he writhed, bucking Donnelly off. Then he leaped to his feet, once more tearing off as fast as he could.
Fast but not faster than a flying Dragon.
This time, Donnelly swept by, close overhead. Briggs flanked him. The white Dragon banked and dropped to the ground ahead of the fleeing Worm.
He wanted a fight? So be it! Jordan would destroy both of them, if that was what it took to save Savannah!
For once in his life, though, Donnelly wasn’t looking for battle. “Shift! I will carry you!”
Shift? Abandon his scales, his only protection against a Dragon’s fangs and claws? Put his life – literally – in Donnelly’s hands?
To save her? Yes! Neither Jordan nor his Worm hesitated. He cast his power aside, shrinking down into his frail human form.
Defenseless, he faced the two Dragons, ready for his fate, whatever it might be.
As gentle as a mother cat, Donnelly picked him up. Talons that could shred a bus curled harmlessly against his body. Then, on strong wings that sent dust billowing out around them, he rose into the air. Carrying the Worm safely.
Toward his Mate.
Chapter 14.
Staring down the barrel of Todd’s gun, Savannah felt her senses sharpen. Every detail of the room leaped into focus. The soft carpet underfoot. The reflection of Todd’s gun in the picture’s glass frame.
The steadiness of his hand, untroubled by any doubt, as he began to pull the trigger.
And then, the balcony’s glass door exploded, and the world became a blur of motion.
A man had hurtled through the thick glass and rolled to his feet behind Todd. Dark scales, claws… a Dragon, half-Shifted into his mortal form.
The Bear spun and raised his weapon. In a blur of movement, the newcomer slashed…
…and a wave of blood sprayed across the room.
Todd Manning, one-time lover and now assassin, crumbled, dead, to the floor.
Black Dragon… that’s Casey Briggs, right?
She stared at him, partially from shock. Partially to avoid looking at the crimson pool spreading along the white carpet.
Then, the Dragon finished his Shift – and Jordan Beaumont stood before her, wild-eyed, vigilant for any new enemy. “Savannah! Are you all right?”
“I f-fine. Fine, I…”
Her gaze kept dropping to that stain. How on Earth could anyone ever get that clean?
What a silly thing to think! What’s wrong with me?
But she knew. The ringing in her ears gave it away, and the way she wobbled on her feet.
I’m in shock. I need to sit down before I faint.
Jordan rushed to her side, though, and wrapped his arms around her. Lending her the strength she needed to keep her feet under her. “You’re pale. Sit down.”
“Not here,” she whispered. “Please, not here.”
In the end, she grieved his death, even if he had tried to kill her. Savannah wasn’t sure if she mourned Todd or the man she’d thought he was. Didn’t matter. She ju
st wanted to flee as far away as she could.
Her word was Jordan’s command.
Finn Donnelly and Casey Briggs arrived a moment later, Shifting mid-air and dropping to the balcony with thuds that made the room shake. Briggs stayed to ‘take care’ of the mess. Donnelly got a cab and whisked them to another room back at his resort.
Jordan stayed by her the whole time. His arm, warm and steady, never left her shoulders. No sigh, no shiver, escaped his notice. He guarded her with a fierce attention she’d never seen before.
Like a Dragon.
Like the Dragon he used to be.
Donnelly’s resort was a big, luxurious step up from hers. Jordan whisked her over to the couch. Only once she was settled and off her feet did he release his watchful hold. “Can I get you anything? Wine? Water?”
“Just water for now, please.”
He hurried over to the kitchen (yes, this place actually had its own!). As he did, Donnelly ducked his head. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
He was… leaving them alone? Leaving a prisoner free without a guard?!?
The shock must have been plain on her face because the Dragon snorted. “Ms. Dare, a little piece of advice. Next time, just tell the court that this guy is your Mate.”
Mate.
The word stunned her, and her jaw dropped. “Mate? We’re not, uh…”
Just like that, every trace of friendliness vanished from the Dragon’s face. He whirled toward the kitchen, his blue eyes blazing as he called on his Dragon’s power. “Beaumont, what the hell are you playing at?”
No answering fire lit Jordan’s eyes, but his chin rose in defiance. “Nothing. Savannah Dare is my Mate. I know that now.”
“But she doesn’t?” Donnelly’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh!” Savannah’s mind spun. That mad, wonderful passion – they’d truly shared it? “Those dreams… they were real?”
Somber, the Worm nodded. “They were.”
“But I thought…”
Donnelly’s delighted cackle interrupted her. The Dragon’s cheer had returned, in full force. “Gotcha. So, no treachery here, just stupidity. Ha! Lots of that going around.”
