But it’s not me calling the shots. My body seems to move of its own volition, sending a new wave of nausea to assault my already overwhelmed system as my broken wing struggles to haul my body into the air. As the smoke grows thick enough to burn my eyes, I crash through the glass ceiling, leaving my own personal Hell behind again. But this time, for good.
ChapterSeven
RAIDEN
“We’ll find your wife, Mr. Garrison. You should head home to wait in case he calls with a ransom-” one of the police officers rattles off, the fifteenth rendition of this speech that I’ve endured today alone.
“I don’t have a landline. If he calls, it’ll be my cell phone, so my time is better spent following up on the tips that you’d dismiss unless they have evidence to back up the claim, and blame it on not enough man power for a wild goose chase. I have no illusions here; I know the statistics. She’s been gone a week, and you’ve already decided that we’ll only find her body, have thrown her case to the bottom of the pile.
“She may not be your priority, officer, but she’smine. You’d do well to remember that you never really know who your enemies are untilafterthey’ve shown their hand.” The chair makes an ear-splitting screech across the tile as I shove to my feet, giving the humans my back.
“Is that a threat?” he growls, putting a hand on the butt of his gun.
“I don’t have the patience left for threats.” Moving faster than he can blink, I grip both of their holsters, reducing their guns to useless hunks of melted metal. “My brothers and I will slaughter anyone that stands between us, and Amara’s safe return. You want it to stop? Then find. My. Wife.”
Ignoring their stammering protests, I storm out of yet another police precinct. I’m not expecting any of them to actually capture Malcolm, but the more people we have actively searching for signs of him, the better. The vast majority of shifters in this region have swallowed that madman’s drivel and are a waste of my time to kill, but risking everything by utilizing humans in our quest is something I doubt even Malcolm will anticipate.
Our kind has a hard rule about staying off the humans’ radar. They’re so used to living in the shadows, the thought of plastering themselves all over social media is akin to suicide. But couple a good sob story with a ten million dollar reward for information leading to reclusive billionaire Raiden Garrison’s wife’s safe return, and another ten for her abductor dead or alive? The story has swiftly gone viral, and people are coming out of the woodwork for a modern day dragon hunt.
It’s absolutely going to blow up in my face, but I’ll happily step down from my position and focus solely on fortifying Khalida, leaving the rest of the country to implode in on itself, if it means having Amara by my side again.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I have it to my ear before the end of the first ring. “Speak.”
Without any of her usual snark, my sister cuts straight to the point. “Every reported grid going down recently, no matter how short a span, has been verified as legitimate reasons. Cars crashing into transformers, or scheduled rolling blackouts, so that’s been a bust, but I’ve assigned someone to monitor for any changes.” She blows out a weary breath. “Weeding through the metric fuckton of tips being called in, we’ve noticed a trend of claims spotting him around Kingston. Figured since it’s only sixty miles from your current location, it’s worth checking out until we get a more solid lead to go on.”
Before she’s finished, I’m already in motion, jogging to my car down the street. With all of the extra eyes on me, the occasional opportunity to fly has been eradicated nearly completely. “Thanks, Rina.”
A heartbeat of silence follows before she adds, “Amara survived him before, and she’ll do it again. We’ll find her, broloceraptor.”
I have to swallow before I can muster a reply, barely getting the words out as my voice cracks. “Tell me again.”
The smoke alarm goes off across the line alongside the muffled curses of whoever’s trapped with her in the command center. Raising her voice to be heard over the piercing shriek, she declares with absolute conviction, “Amara loves the three of you too much to be the reason you die. She’ll stay alive, if only to spite the pathetic douchebag. So when you find her, which youwill,you better praise the fuck out of that mate of yours until she comes on the spot, or so help me, brother, I will kick your ass.”
A flash of scales in the corner of my eye has me stumbling to an abrupt halt, ending the call without another word and whirling around. Through the electronic store window front, an array of tv’s are set on various news channels, but they’re all showing variations of the same video clips. Two dragons, one black, one mottled grey. Soaring above the trees, over a lake, campers recording from their phones. But it’s the sudden flash of gold that brings me to my knees.
One news station has beaten the rest to the story of the century, broadcasting live from the base of a cliff as a golden dragon streaked in blood collapses just beyond the ledge, the camera frame shaking from the impact.
I feel that reverberation in my soul, an aching chasm that pulses painfully upon seeing my mate not only alive, but shifted for the first time.
Alone.
Hurting.
Needs me.
The streaks of blood marring her golden scales take over my vision until all I can see is a red haze. For a few seconds that seem to last an eternity, the only thing I can hear is my heartbeat thudding heavily in my ears, blocking out the sounds of the city surrounding me.
And then something snaps.
My ironclad control over my other half is ripped away from me as his murderous instincts flare to life with a vengeance, clawing his way out with single-minded focus. Every muscle burns as he surges forth, right in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. Smoke curls from my nostrils as my body shifts and contorts, dark red scales covering my skin like armor, wings bursting from my shoulder blades with an audible snap. I’m vaguely aware of my actions, but I have no control over them, don’t bother trying to rein myself in anymore.
I cease to exist, reduced to little more than primal instinct. The world is white noise, its problems insignificant and created by people that don’t matter.
Nothingmatters but her.
Screams surround me as part of the wall of the electronics store collapses beneath my clawed hand as I haul myself higher. Glass rains down from the shattered window front, sparks crackling from a TV that was knocked loose, dangling from a straining power cord. Beneath me, panicked humans scream and scatter without rhyme or reason, crashing into each other in their haste to escape. A chunk of the roof breaks off as I use the edge to launch into the skies, and by the time it explodes against the sidewalk, I’m long gone.
When Amara left, she took all of the air in my lungs with her. I haven’t been able to breathe since she’s been gone, but with every mile between us that disappears, the crushing weight on my chest eases, if only slightly.
