by Olivia Ash
After all, Harper said it herself—Jace might have good intentions, but he often makes misguided decisions.
The patter of boots on stone catches my attention, and I pause. Ear straining, I listen as the muffled steps race toward me from somewhere behind the courtyard’s walls.
The silhouetted of a man pops into view, leaning against the wall as he pauses for breath. He’s draped in shadow, but as his head turns toward me, I recognize the outline.
Tucker.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice tense.
He’s nearly vibrating with anxiety. Something happened, and whatever it was, it isn’t good.
“We have to go.” Tucker points back toward the forest. “Now. Levi’s in trouble.”
I stiffen. “What?”
“He was headed back toward the dojo,” Tucker says, still gasping for breath. “I waved him down, wanted to say hi, because I’m a charming and amazing friend,” he adds casually, running a hand through his hair. “But as he angled toward me, a net shot through the air and snared him. He went down hard. I ran toward him, but all I found was a crater where he landed. He’s gone, and Rory, someone took him. There’s a trail—tire imprints, boot prints, the works. I can track them, but it looks like we’re facing at least forty men. We have to go. Now.”
“Damn it.” I rub my neck, my mind racing.
This could be a hit designed to lure me out of the dojo, but I doubt it. Not many people know about my connection to Levi—and of those who do, I’m not sure who would have the resources to snare him in particular, and with so many soldiers at their disposal.
Zurie likes to handle things on her own. Solo, with maybe one or two other Spectres at most. She keeps to herself and cleans up her own messes.
And that’s all I am to her—a bit of chaos she has to tame.
I look at Tucker, completely focused. “How far onto the embassy grounds were you?”
“Along the edge, on the north side.”
Overhead, three familiar dragons soar in tight formation toward the embassy. I’ve seen these three before—they’re some of the most active scouts around the dojo, and usually the ones I have to avoid any time I sneak into the command center.
“Something tells me Jace knows about this,” I mutter, racing up the steps toward the building.
Before I can reach the door, however, it flies open—and Jace stands in my path.
“There you are,” he says sternly, as if he’s been on the hunt for a while.
“Levi—”
“I know,” he interjects. “We’re on it, Rory.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
“My team is on it,” Jace says sternly. “I’ll handle this.”
“And you expect me to do what, exactly?” I gesture up to the castle. “Wait in my room like a good girl?”
“I don’t care where you are,” he says flippantly. “As long as it’s within the embassy. My team is capable, Rory, more than—”
“Your team wanted to rip his throat out when they met him,” I remind the Grand Master. “Your team wanted to kill him for being feral without bothering to realize he’s still alert. Sentient. Aware.” I step in, closing the gap between us, my cold fury seeping through my veins. “And don’t think for one moment that I didn’t notice the expression on your face the other day. I’m not letting him die, Jace—but you might.”
In my periphery, Tucker watches our exchange with his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. Like me, he won’t let anything happen to Levi.
“That’s entirely unfair,” Jace says, his voice deep and dark. “I have been nothing but accommodating to you and him from the start.”
I scoff. “That’s a generous way to put it.”
“You’re staying,” he barks.
“I’m going!” I snap back, the depths of my fury finally digging deep into my core. A burst of white light arcs across my body, and I feel it expand within every vein.
For a moment, I glow with my rage—and even the Grand Master takes a step back.
In the silence, the crackle of magic across my skin spikes through the air.
“What do I have to do with you, woman?” Jace asks quietly, his brows knit together with anger. “Chain you to the bed?”
“Try zip ties, first,” Tucker says with a chuckle.
I glare at the weapons expert, but he just smirks and shrugs.
Without another word, I stalk off toward the dojo’s armory. Tucker has some dangerous toys, sure, but I need the big guns. I plan to load myself down with everything I can carry—and given my newly enhanced strength, that’s a considerable amount of firepower.
As I thunder through the dojo, my hands balled into fists, Drew steps out of a side hallway and joins me without a word. He never looks at me, never says a thing, but I already know what he wants.
For whatever reason—be it for Levi or for me—he’s coming, too.
Good. The more soldiers I have on my side, the better. Especially if we’re facing a small army.
Levi’s in trouble, and the brutes who took him won’t play by the rules—not if they’re stealing dragons from within an embassy’s territory.
This is war, and it’s going to be bloody.
Nothing will stop me. I’m going to save Levi, and if Jace can get his head out of his ass long enough to grab a gun, he can come, too.
Chapter Eighteen
Through the scope of a Fairfax-issued rifle, I survey a meadow.
It’s deadly quiet. In the chilly night, nothing chirps. Nothing rustles. The only sound is the agonizing wheeze of an injured dragon, lying wounded and bleeding in the middle of the field.
My every impulse is to run to him—in the silvery moonlight, it’s easy to recognize Levi. His beautiful scales. The majestic curve of his neck. The massive wings.
But this is clearly a trap.
Chains cover his body, brutal barbs that slice through his stunning blue skin. I grit my teeth in anger, and it’s abundantly clear there will be no mercy tonight.
These people came onto embassy land, kidnapped a dragon I adore, tore his body nearly to shreds, and are now lying in wait with their trap set.
Tonight, they’re going to die.
I scan the edge of the forest, only to find forty-three of them sloppily hidden among the trees. There’s probably another dozen or so hidden among the canopy, simply invisible due to my vantage point. Those I can see shift their weight and adjust in their seats, some of them in the branches with their scopes trained on the meadow as well.
Though this would be a fairly simple victory for me, I hesitate.
Based on their lackluster stealth and cloaking ability, it’s easy to assume these are nothing more than well-equipped amateurs.
And yet, somehow, these bumbling idiots were smart enough to not only capture a dragon as swift as Levi, but also knew to take him off of embassy land. This strip of the forest is owned by humans—which means Jace and his dragons can’t technically shift.
They’re not supposed to shoot anyone, either, so we’re still breaking laws by being here. But it’s a lot easier to go unnoticed in their human forms, sneaking under the canopy, than it would be if they shifted.
This puts the dragons at a disadvantage, but these fools don’t seem to realize they’re dealing with an army as brilliantly trained in hand-to-hand combat as they are in dragon fighting.
Either they’re stupid, or I’m missing something. Both options make me a little nervous.
Jace kneels beside me, his rifle aimed toward the forest floor as he glares into the field. We briefly exchange a tense look, but this isn’t the time or place to argue.
He doesn’t want me to be here, but he knows I would show up anyway, regardless. Short of locking me in a cell—and probably not even then—there’s nothing he can do to force me to obey.
And, if we’re being honest, he absolutely could lock me in a cell. He’s probably tempted to do it, in fact, and he very well might follow through one day.
“Negative,” Jace whispers into the earpiece he’s wearing. “No need for backup. Secure the embassy.”
He pauses, no doubt listening to someone on the other end of the line.
Apparently satisfied, Jace leans toward me, his voice low. “Stay here.”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Chief.
Without waiting for me to agree, he gestures to the twenty-five soldiers behind him, ordering them to fan out. We left most of the military back at the dojo, just in case this was merely a diversion, but twenty-five expert soldiers are more than enough to handle this.
Quietly, they tear through the shadows, converging on the soldiers from both directions.
Without a sound, Tucker slips up next to me from the pitch-black forest, the butt of his military-issued rifle pressed hard against his shoulder. He nudges my arm with his elbow and signals toward the nearest group of enemy soldiers.
Let’s join the party, the gesture says.
I nod. With pleasure.
Drew slips out of the shadows as we stand, taking the lead and silently stalking through the woods ahead of us. I frown in slight annoyance, but it doesn’t matter. Even if he’s in front of me, it won’t stop me or slow me down.
Before we can reach the soldiers, bullets rip through the night on the far end of the meadow. Men shout. The orange flash of guns going off rips through the darkness, and bodies thud to the dirt.
Drew, Tucker, and I all run a little faster to join the chaos.
Movement overhead catches my eye, and I tilt my gun upward as a barrel aims down at me. Drew follows suit, and in unison, we each fire off two rounds.
A man grunts. The branch creaks, and Drew takes a step back, nearly pressing himself against me as the dead soldier falls to the ground, right where he would have been.
Drew briefly tilts his head, checking on me, and I nod for him to continue. The shifter carries on, a little more careful to watch the treetops this time.
I pause briefly by the man’s body, scanning his face and uniform, but there’s no logo. Nothing about him looks familiar.
Tucker does the same, but his eyes widen with recognition.
“Shit,” he hisses.
I glance at him, but he’s already scanning the branches above us, shoulders tense.
“What?” Drew demands quietly.
Tucker shakes his head. When Drew returns his attention to the forest, Tucker looks at me, a concerned expression on his face.
Something is definitely wrong. He just doesn’t want Drew to know, and he can’t tell me until we’re alone.
I let Drew continue ahead of us, slowing my pace and leaning toward Tucker in the hopes he can lower his voice enough that the dragon shifter ahead of us won’t hear.
He takes the hint.
Leaning into me, he sets his mouth close to my ear, the rough stubble along his jaw brushing against my hair. “They’re Knight rebels,” he whispers to me. “They know who I am, and they hate the General.”
“Damn it,” I mutter.
Tucker nods, lifting his gun, scanning the forest for more of the soldiers. I can’t let any of these guys see him—or it might be game over for his secret.
A short distance from us, the chaos spills out into the field as Jace’s well-trained fighters make quick work of the sloppy amateurs who captured Levi. One by one, the nameless soldiers begin to fall as the master fighters quickly clear them out.
But something isn’t right.
These men are unfamiliar with stealth and barely capable of hand to hand combat, and yet they somehow captured and restrained a dragon as powerful as Levi?
It doesn’t add up.
This—the trap—I get the feeling it hasn’t even sprung yet.
I pause. “Guys, don’t—”
I hear the gun go off before I see where it came from, and purely on instinct, I grab Tucker’s shirt. Yanking him toward me, I use every ounce of strength I possess to throw him off balance.
And I’m lucky.
I’m lucky he didn’t fight it. I’m lucky I caught him off guard because the bullet sails through the air, right where his head was a moment before.
The three of us duck for cover, each taking refuge behind a tree.
“I am going to give you so many orgasms,” Tucker says breathlessly from the tree next to mine. “You are the fucking best.”
As much as I enjoy that delightful little promise of his, I tap my finger to my lips, telling him in the politest way to shut the hell up.
We’re not out of trouble yet.
“Oh, Rory,” a familiar man’s voice growls. “Have an entourage now, do you?”
I grit my teeth, nose wrinkling in disgust.
Diesel.
That ass.
I peek around the corner of the tree, eyes straining against the shadows of the forest. And there, deep in the woods, is a familiar silhouette. He lifts a gun, aiming it toward my tree, and fires.
Quickly, I duck behind the trunk as the bullet shatters the bark next to my face. My grip tightening on my rifle, I tense, preparing to take out one of the greatest Spectres alive.
This ought to be fun.
“I thought we were friends, Diesel!” I shout, forcing a hint of mock wounding into my voice. “What’s with the gun?”
“There’s a big bounty on you now, kid. Dead or alive.” He chuckles. “Dead is easier. Nothing personal.”
Fast as lightning, I kneel and twist, pressing the barrel of the rifle against the trunk for balance. I lift my gun, scope trained on the outline’s chest as he aims at me again.
Perfect. One shot, and I can end him once and for all.
The hair on my neck stands on end, however. A chill creeps down my spine, and I lift my scope in time to see a boot sailing toward my face from the branches above.
It’s too fast. All I can do is register that it’s there. Even though I try to duck the blow, I can’t possibly get out of the way in time.
The shoe hits me in the face.
Hard.
I tumble backward, sliding across the dirt, my gun clattering against a tree from the force of the blow. My world spins, but I’ve been hit harder.
As spots dance along my vision, I force myself to stand and draw a pistol from the holster at my waist.
Whoever attacked me lands on the dirt and lifts a gun. The silhouette is feminine, with curves and a thin waist, but her face is shrouded in shadow.
“You’re so predictable,” Zurie says, her frosty voice biting through the night.
My blood runs cold, but I hold my ground. “So that was your plan, huh? Use some amateurs as a diversion?”
“Pretty much,” she says. “It worked, didn’t it?”
I can’t see much of the forest behind her, shrouded as it is in shadow, but I do hear the grunt of Tucker taking a blow. Drew groans with effort, and it seems like Diesel has the two of them cornered. No gunfire, thankfully, but that could change at any moment.
Looks like I’m on my own.
Zurie and I circle each other, slowly creeping toward the moonlit meadow. The light will give me the upper hand—she excels in the dark, as if she’s able to see even when there’s no light at all.
She passes into a silvery beam of moonlight, and I catch the familiar sight of her grim, determined face.
“And Diesel?” I nod. “How did you rope him into this?”
She shrugs. “He doesn’t like you. I didn’t even have to cash in a favor.”
Wow.
Diesel must really hate me, then.
I’m almost to the meadow. Almost to the light. I need to stall her, wait until we can ease toward a better fighting ground, one where I stand a chance.
“Why did you tell me Irena’s dead?” I demand, letting a bit of my anger drip through. “Why lie?”
“Because she
might as well be.” Zurie grits her teeth, her hand tightening around the handle of her gun.
She’s—angry.
At Irena. At the golden child.
I frown, baffled. “Why? What did she do?”
Zurie hesitates, briefly scanning my face as if she can’t believe I would ask such a stupid question. It barely lasts a second, though, and it’s followed by understanding. She laughs derisively. “You really didn’t figure it out?”
“You know how much I hate games,” I snap.
Zurie grins, eyes narrowed, sly and judgmental as ever. “She betrayed us, Rory. She turned us in. To Mason. To the Vaer. It was her.”
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
If Zurie wasn’t having so much fun gloating, it would have been the perfect moment for her to attack.
But this—no, it’s a lie.
It has to be.
To screw with me.
I scoff, correcting my aim, tilting the barrel of my gun toward her face this time. “Bull—”
“The Vaer aren’t known for honoring commitments.” Zurie pauses in the woods, no longer letting me slowly guide her toward the field. “She was an idiot to make a deal with them, and it backfired. She turned you in, Rory. She turned us both in.”
I search Zurie’s eyes for signs of a lie, but in the darkness, I can’t be sure. She taught me how to do this, after all. She could be masking her tells, and even though her stern face looks genuine, I don’t believe her for a second.
“Irena would never do that,” I insist.
Without missing a beat, I lift my gun, aiming for the space between Zurie’s eyes.
And I fire.
Zurie rolls out of the way as my bullet shatters the bark on the tree behind her. “I hope you had fun,” she chides, recovering. “Because it’s time to fix you.”
She fires her pistol, and I dive out of the way barely a moment before a tranquilizer dart digs into the tree behind me.
Unfortunately for her, I’m carrying bullets. Not darts.
I aim for her chest and fire again, but I’m operating at a disadvantage here. This is the woman who trained me, who knows my every move, who can tell what I’m about to do as I decide to do it. She can read me, almost effortlessly, and she manages to yet again leap out of the way.