I count the floors, then orientate the flats from this perspective only for my stomach to drop. “Oh shit, that’s Bryn and Milo’s flat.”
“Let’s hope it’s a dragon thing gone awry and not something more sinister,” Ethan says, his expression grim.
As much as I hope that’s true, a sense of foreboding has taken up residence in the pit of my stomach.
We push through the steady stream of people descending thestairs and rush up to the flat. The door is wide open, smoke lingering on the landing but no visible flames or intense heat, thank goodness. Inside, the walls in the hall are blackened and a fine layer of ash covers everything. Layered in with the scents of Bryn, Milo, and Zara are the distinct scents of six separate fae, two of them familiar.
Ethan’s nostrils flare. “Aire and Ember were here along with four other fae, and Bryn’s scent is about an hour old.”
My heart seizes. I assumed I was picking up Bryn’s scent because the place is saturated with it, as is normal for a person’s home, but Ethan’s nose is more sensitive and if he says Bryn was here this morning, my dragon definitely was. But why? I left him safe and protected at the manor.
Fuck, did he even put his shield charm back on before he left? Or was he as convinced as always that he can easily handle himself? As much as I’ve worried about him being targeted next instead of me, I never thought it would really happen. And what about his siblings? Have all three of them been kidnapped?
Ethan goes to check the master bedroom and I hurry to call Bryn as I stride into the living room. A phone amongst the wreckage vibrates, creating a rattle on the charred wood of the coffee table, the name ‘Treasure’ on the screen. My stomach bottoms out as I hang up and call Milo, only for a ringtone to start up in the master bedroom.
Ethan appears holding Milo’s phone, expression grim. “Milo’s scent is a few hours old, and I’m picking up the scents of Aire and two other fae in there. It looks like there was a struggle, although fairly minor. I’ll check the other bedroom, you look around in here.”At my shaky inhale, he grips the back of my neck and scents me. “We’ll find them. Together. Look for clues.”
I manage to nod, my stomach in knots and my chest painfully tight. At least having my alpha’s orders to follow helps focus my mind.
Smoke is drifting out of the vents above the French doors, andI survey the scorch-marked furniture for clues. Blue lights from below flash on the blackened walls, the sirens of the fire brigade cutting off as they arrive. We don’t have long before this place is swarming and we’re moved out—unless it’s a supernatural crew, which isn’t guaranteed.
My tiger is panicking and I feel like I might throw up. How could I have failed Bryn and his siblings like this?
I desperately scan the room, trying to piece together what happened. Finding out the full story last night of why Bryn assaulted Lance made me release a tension I didn’t know I’d been holding onto. I knew I was falling for him, but him trusting me with everything, including stories about his hoard, was the final thing I needed to stop subconsciously holding back and fall completely in love.
I should have bonded with him when I had the chance, because then I’d have sensed something was wrong this morning and might have gotten here in time, but I wasn’t truly ready before. The thought that I might never get the chance now has my tiger roaring and pacing inside me.
I take a few unsteady breaths, clenching and unclenching my fists as I fight back my shift. Chasing a scent trail, probably only as far as the car park, isn’t what I need to be doing. Not to mention how many humans I’d scare if they saw a tiger in the stairwell.
No, I need to search for clues like Ethan said, something that could give us a lead we haven’t had before. I’m a fucking professional, and Bryn needs me to do my job.
“It’s the same story in the other bedroom,” Ethan says when he joins me. “There’s a fresh scent of another dragon in Bryn’s room—similar enough to Bryn to probably be a family member—along with Ember’s and two other fae. My guess is they somehow took Milo and the other dragon while they were asleep. Injecting them with a fast-acting sedative, maybe.”
I run a hand over the bristles of my hair, my mind racing. “It’s his sister’s scent. She must have been staying. Shit, Ethan.”
He folds his arms across his chest, a fierce scowl on this face. “So they’ve taken all three siblings, the bastards. Could this be retaliation for us arresting Lance?”
“Unless he’s still the one pulling the strings.”
It’s a desperate move either way. They’ve left their scent everywhere, and who knows what other physical evidence. Surely there’s something here that will help us find our dragons. There has to be.
“I certainly wouldn’t put it past that slimy dickhead,” he growls. “The more important question is, where have they taken them?”
“You don’t think…? No, there’s no blood.” I look around more closely in case I missed some, my heart in my throat.
He grips my nape. “I’m sure they’re alive, wherever they are.”
I nod, hanging onto his certainty like a lifeline as I begin to search the room more carefully. Would Bryn set fire to his own flat? It seems unlikely, even in self-defence. Did the fae start the fire? It’s certainly possible.
Ethan heads back into the hall to make a few calls. The entire team dropped what they were doing and hurried over, so he sends Jet to search for a scent trail in the car park and nearby streets, Kit to check all CCTV in the vicinity, and Ayo to question people outside in case someone witnessed what happened. Skye and Cal will continue to ensure all the residents make it out safely, just in case, but I barely pay attention to the conversations, too focused on tracing the mess of footprints in the ash.
One person had bare feet—likely Bryn, because if I ignore mine and Ethan’s footprints, the others are noticeably smaller. I trace Bryn’s steps as best I can until I spot something on the floor near the French doors. Could be writing? I quickly take a photo then crouch to get a closer look, craning my neck until the letters make sense.
ALIVE UNDER
I inhale sharply, regretting it immediately when smoke fills my lungs and I end up coughing into my elbow. ‘Alive’ is good, but that’s obvious because he somehow left this message. So why write it? ‘Under’ is the word of most interest. Under what? There are more smudges, too indistinct to make out.
“Found something?” Ethan asks as he rejoins me.
