Patrick’s phone rang loudly from an unknown number, the person’s identity blocked. He answered it anyway. “Special Agent Patrick Collins. Line and location are not secure.”
“I suggest you rectify that, Collins,” General Noah Reed rumbled from the other side of the line, sounding more than a little irritated.
The raspy voice in his ear made Patrick think he could almost smell the cigarette smoke the general used to cover the scent of fire that always lingered around him. Patrick unconsciously straightened his shoulders.
“Sorry, sir. Habitual statement. I’m in a car with a god pack alpha werewolf and a fledgling.”
A heavy silence filled the line for a moment before Reed’s voice came back. “A fledgling?”
“I’m awerecreature,” Wade snapped. “I just can’t shift, is all.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. It’s been an interesting night.”
“You always did have shitty luck when it mattered, Collins. Report.”
Strange how the brusque order made him feel calmer in the face of his current clusterfuck of a case. Patrick rapidly explained what had gone down at the Crimson Diamond, only leaving out Lucien’s name from the verbal report, knowing that Reed wouldn’t demand he give up the identity of his criminal informant.
“You need to see the fledgling, sir,” Patrick said when he finished. “The kid doesn’t have any control, and I don’t think he’s ever shifted mass before.”
“I’m not akid,” Wade spat out.
“Shut it,” Jono growled as he took a left turn.
“He can’t shift mass in New York City, sir. He’s liable to bring down a building or level an entire city block,” Patrick added.
Wade shifting mass into his dragon form—something the teenager had apparently never done before and wouldn’t know how to control—was a disaster waiting to happen. Patrick had ruined enough of Manhattan real estate already this summer. He really didn’t need to wreck any more of the city.
“Where is his family?” Reed asked.
“Mother is dead. Father left a few months after he was born, according to his records. He ran away from his foster care group home in San Diego when he was fourteen and was eventually listed as a missing child.”
“Hey!” Wade said angrily. “Are you spying on me?”
“Federal agent,” Patrick snapped over his shoulder.
“He has a temper,” Reed mused, soundingfond.
If Wade ended up being a fire dragon, Patrick didn’t know what he would do. Maybe take that vacation to Maui after all and make a detour to the Big Island to throw Wade into a volcano. Pele might take him in.
Or eat him.
New plan, Patrick reluctantly thought before saying, “I’m well aware of that fact, sir. I’m taking him home, but I can’tkeephim there.”
Because dragons were immune to nearly all magic to a deep degree, even if they weren’t immune to most modern weaponry. Bullets they could withstand, but missiles and grenades were a different story entirely. As for magic? Patrick could lay down however many thresholds he liked on the apartment, wrap however many defensive shields he could around it—Wade would walk through it all as if it didn’t exist.
The collar Wade had worn in that fight ring shouldn’t have kept him contained in his skin as it had, but Patrick had a feeling Tezcatlipoca was the one who had created it. Dragons could shrug off human magic as easily as they breathed, but the primordial power gifted to immortals was something else entirely.
“Fledgling,” Reed said, his voice grating through the speaker in a way that had Patrick yanking the phone off his ear. The power in that suddenly inhuman voice filled the car, pressing down on him with a weight that made it difficult to breathe.
The car swerved a few times before Jono got it back under control, swearing all the while. Wade whimpered loudly from the back seat, caving beneath the power of an elder who belonged to his species.
“You will obey Special Agent Patrick Collins until you and I meet. Do you understand?”
Patrick thought his ears were going to rupture as the general’s order echoed through the Mustang. He resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears because he knew it would be a useless gesture.
“Okay,” Wade said in a panicked, squeaked-out voice. “Okay!”
“He will stay with you, Collins,” Reed said, the power from before gone from his voice. He sounded human now, the echo of a roar ringing in Patrick’s ears no longer actually present.
