“I don’t think my cousins stole those pieces,” he said, frowning. “Seline’s been here.”
“No? What does it mean if a dragon leaves a piece of theirownhoard in someone else’s stash?”
“Problems.”
“Problems the head of the Blackburn clan needs to deal with right this minute?” Maya’s eyebrows lifted.
He kissed her. “The two leaders of the Blackburn clan have other priorities at this point in time.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She took his hand, twining their fingers together. “But there’s nothing here for us. The Dans are a bust,” she said, echoing his own thoughts. “Where to next?”
He knew it was a mistake the moment they made it in.
“No alarms?” Maya said, wrinkling her nose. “No booby traps? I’m disappointed.”
She stared down at Saint-John Montfort’s hoard, sequestered away in filing cabinets that stretched into the shadows of the basement vault.
“No need, I guess,” she mused. “There’s only one way in or out. If he senses anyone’s down here, he can just blast fire through the trapdoor and barbecue us.”
“I’d prefer that not to happen.”
“Me, too.” She waved her hand over the nearest cabinet. It was made to exact specifications, the same as every other one in the room. Each had a grid of what looked like square cupboards, but were actually rectangular security boxes perfectly fitted to the cupboard space.
The boxes had resisted all their attempts to get in so far.
“Individual locks for each drawer?” Maya complained. “Wouldn’t that be a pain when he gets in a mood to roll around in his treasure?”
“I can’t imagine Saint-John Montfort ever rolling around in anything.”
“Except humiliation and defeat?” she suggested.
“Except that.”
“I’m not sure I want a ring from Montfort’s hoard, anyway.” She tapped her fingernail against the box. “But, while we’re here…”
They didn’t have long before someone would notice their presence. But it was long enough to swap a dozen or so of the boxes into different cabinets. Just enough so that Montfort would know someone had been in his vault—and force him to individually open and check all the little boxes, to make sure none of his hoard was missing.
Life interrupted their adventures. They returned to Hideaway Cove, where construction was already underway for the next batch of new houses, and Tomás showed off his ability to blow bubbles in the water when they went swimming. Each time, Corin and Maya tensed, wondering if this would be it and he would find his fire—but each time wasnot yet.
The same way each night wasnot yeton the ring problem.
“We’ll continue the hunt after I’ve been to see my grandfather,” he told Maya the next morning. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I’m coming,” she said, and that was that.
They took the helicopter again. Neither of them wanted Tomás to get ideas about shifting and flying when they were hundreds of feet in the sky—and although he knew the duskfire wasn’t all misery and destruction anymore, he hadn’t experimented enough with flying shrouded in it to risk his mate and her child drowning in the same misery that affected duskfire dragons when they flew unseen.
His grandfather was more cheerful than Corin had ever seen him. “It’s been too long, Miss Flores,” he declared. “And who is this fine young dragon?”
Tomás perked up. “It’s me!” he announced, jumping with excitement.
“Aha! Here to steal my treasure, are you?” The old man grinned. “Come on inside. Let’s eat!”
He practically bounded up the stairs. Corin narrowed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Maya asked.
“He’s behaving very suspiciously.”
