Chapter 1
Luke
I stand at the edge of the Aurora airfield, watching the sun climb higher over the mountains. Jet fuel and pine resin burn in my nostrils. My dragon stirs beneath my skin, restless.
The hangar doors groan open behind me, spilling light across the tarmac. I pull up the manifest on my tablet one more time. Supplies, weapons, medical kit, communication array. Everything’s accounted for. I cross-reference the weather patterns anyway, then check the encrypted frequencies again. The Carpathians are a long way from the Pacific Northwest, and a lot can go wrong over the Atlantic.
“You know the plane won’t take off faster just because you glare at it, right?”
I don’t turn around. “Mara.”
“That’sAgent Jonesto you.” She appears at my elbow with coffee and a duffel bag, grinning like she knows exactly howmuch I don’t want company right now. “But since we’re basically besties after these last few weeks, I’ll allow the informality.”
“Since when did you get ‘agent’ status?” I grunt.
“Since I promoted myself.” She’s unrepentant. “I figured the Cravens could handle it.”
She offers the coffee. Steam curls between us.
“Already had some.”
“Of course you did.” She takes a long sip, bright green eyes scanning the airfield. “Romania. Cleanup mission. Potentially hostile territory. You planning to smile at any point during this trip, or should I pack extra sunshine for both of us?”
“Pack ammunition.”
“Already done. Unlike some people, I don’t need to check my gear—” She pauses, tilting her head. “Wait. Is this your fifth check or sixth?”
“Can’t be too careful,” I mutter.
“Actually, yes. Yes, you can,” she responds, taking another sip, then patting the small satchel slung over her shoulder. “Besides, I have everything I have right here. Screen. Phone. All my tech.”
“Right. Because an iPhone will save you if we go up against Syndicate dragons.’
“Hey! This iPhone has already savedyoua dozen times whenever I’ve posted another story hiding the existence of dragons,” she shoots back. “You could’ve been strapped down in a lab having experiments done on your sorry hide if it weren’t for this little baby.” She pats the bag again.
“Nobody’s going to do experiments on me.” I fight not to roll my eyes.
“Seriously? You really believe that?” Mara shakes her head. “The government would be all over you lot if they ever found out you were real. Blood tests. Invasive procedures. Probes…”
“There will be no probes.” This time, I actually do roll my eyes. The woman is impossible.
“Oh, there’ll be probes, alright.” She waves a hand. “Have you never heard of Area 52?”
God help me.
Movement near the hangar catches my eye before I can answer. Someone in tactical gear moves across the tarmac with careful, deliberate steps. Platinum blonde braid swinging. Even from here, I catch the nervous energy radiating off her.
My jaw tightens.
Ember Arrowvane.
I’d argued against bringing her. Twenty-one years old, no field experience. But she’d been the one having visions of residual magical energy at the ritual site—echoes that might indicate something worse was building. Viktor had agreed she might be able to sense what our technology couldn’t detect.
Vanya had been furious.
I don’t blame her.
“Oh, good,” Mara says, fading blue streaks in her dark hair catching the light. “The kid’s here. This should be fun.”
