“Do you know if they moved the pawnshop to a new location?”
“I think they took off. Probably to a place they can’t be extradited.”
“Why do you say that?”
The woman slowly peeled her gaze from Azh to send Wynn a warning frown.
“The site is toxic. Anyone who goes in there comes out sick.”
“Like radiation?”
“I’ve heard radiation. If you ask me, I think it is some sort of nasty residue from illegal weapons. Everyone suspected that shop was a front for the drug cartel. Or worse. Whatever it is must be bad,” she added. “Not even the authorities will go in there. If my job didn’t pay so well I’d never come back to this street.” The woman reached into her designer purse to pull out a key fob, directing it toward the glass door of the luxury leather goods shop. “Gotta go or I’ll be late.”
“Thanks.”
Wynn waited while the woman gave Azh one last longing glance before disappearing into the store next door. Then, releasing her illusion, she turned back to study the pawnshop.
“Do you sense anything?” Azh asked as he stepped toward the metal barrier.
Wynn shuddered. The shields she’d woven into her coat protected her from the waves of magic that battered against her, but she could still sense them.
“Too much. The spells are all melted together into a weird glob.” She grimaced. “What about you?”
The morning sunlight pooled over Azh, revealing a shimmer of scales on his exposed skin and a faint outline of folded wings. His inner dragon was lurking closer to the surface since they’d entered the lair. Or maybe it was responding to the danger that hummed in the air.
Her own spidey senses were definitely buzzing.
“There’s a power that’s separate from the other magic,” he warned.
“Dragon?”
He shook his head. “It’s something I’ve never felt before.”
Something that a dragon had never felt before? She didn’t know how old he was, but his years spanned several millennia. Long enough that he should have experienced everything this world had to offer.
“That’s not good,” she said.
“We’ll find out.” He grasped the protective fence, his fingers glowing with a heat that sliced through the metal as if it were butter. A second later a large section crashed to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. Wynn coughed, instinctively stepping back. She didn’t want to be there. And not just because this place had centered in her nightmares. There was a sense of “wrongness” that hung in the air. Azh turned, holding out his hand. “Together.”
Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Wynn placed her hand in his. She expected it to be searing hot from the flames, but his skin was pleasantly warm. Comforting. An adjective she never expected to use in connection with a dragon.
“Yeah. Okay.”
They stepped over the fence, careful to avoid the shards of glass spread over the ground. The tangle of magic thickened as they reached the busted door and stepped inside, feeling as if it was physically pushing them away.
Wynn gagged as she pressed through the barrier and into the shop, glancing around the shadowed interior. The heavy shelves had been toppled over, littering the wooden floor with piles of shattered figurines, crystal balls, and jars filled with potions. Even the heavy cases containing the more dangerous spells at the back had been pulled from the wall, as if someone had been searching for something in particular.
Whatever it was, she assumed they hadn’t found it since the place had been ravaged by a fire that wasn’t natural. It’d melted the magical items into unrecognizable lumps while leaving the walls and floor only lightly charred.
“Weirdly, it smells the same,” she complained, waving a hand in front of her face. As if she hoped to chase away the stench that had been embedded in the shop over the centuries.
Azh sent his surroundings a disgusted glance. He was an elegant, lethal predator who was accustomed to soaring through the sky. Being stuck in this cramped, filthy space was no doubt making his skin crawl.
“Like a sewer?”
“Yup.”
“Did you spend a lot of time here?”
