I got to my feet, watching its slitted eyes fervently for any twitch. My ears rang in the wake of my adrenaline, heart still pounding like a runaway train. I’d just slayed a fucking dragon, and a part of me wished Cliff had been here to witness it. He’d be jealous of his goddamn mind when he heard about this.
Another part of me still wished I’d never had to do it at all. Yes, it was capable of horrors, but I couldn’t shake its pathetic posture in the cage—reluctant to even remove itself from the captivity it had come to know so well.
I grimaced, withdrawing the sword from the dragon’s chest as reverently as I could manage. For the first time, I noted the bright blood had flecks of silver to it.
“Great plan,” Lee said dryly.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when he appeared beside me, a sheen of sweat dotting his brow.
Abandoning the dripping sword, I surveyed the room and shrugged. Minimal body count despite the mess and the fresh dragon blood plastering my torn shirt against my body like wet paper.
“Wasn’t so bad,” I said, each word a breathless syllable as I plucked at the tattered fabric on my left shoulder. Beneath, only hairline scratches from the dragon’s teeth lay against my skin.
Lee gave a cold, humorless scoff. “Your life continues to astound and disturb.”
Smirking, I dropped beside the nearest guard and hurriedly stripped him of his weapons. Judging by the full magazine, this one didn’t have time to use his second handgun before the dragon got to him. He even had a couple of blades—silver and iron, by the looks of it.
Finding another full handgun among another guard’s artillery, I held it out to Lee. He raised his hands and took a step back like it might bite.
“No thanks,” he said.
“You realize what we’re about to walk into, don’t you?”
“That’s just not how I do things.”
“Cabrón,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face. “Look, you can go back to your pacifist code tomorrow. But tonight? This is life and death. I can’t promise I can cover you if something goes wrong.”
“It’s not pacifism, it’s—” Lee faltered, dragging a hand back through his hair. He looked so wild,unraveled, that it disarmed me. “I didn’t murder those idiots at Archer Tech. I waspuppeted. I was used and forced to pull that trigger.”
I recoiled. “By who?”
Lee’s jaw feathered. He held my gaze fervently, like he was debating whether to continue at all. Like he was desperate to say. Eventually, the fire in his stare dimmed in resignation, and he broke our stalemate, looking at the floor. “Doesn’t matter. Point is, I haven’t been the same since then. Every time I fire one of those fuckingthings, I see their blood on my hands.”
I studied him, replaying everything I knew about the Archer incident in my head. My mind drifted back to Ben and Delilah. If he were lying to protect someone, they would be at the top of the list.
But much as it pained me, my curiosity would have to remain unsated.
I ambled over and shoved the guard’s body aside, locating a taser on his belt. Unholstering it, I tossed the palm-sized weapon to Lee. “Here. Does this work?”
Lee nodded, a silent understanding passing between us. I knelt by the corpse one last time and picked up the silver sword. It was certainly sharp enough to saw through flesh and bone without too much hassle—convenient, given one of the requirements of the steel door awaiting us in the final hall. Lee gagged when he saw what I was doing.
“For the biometrics scan,” I said, holding out the guard’s severed hand.
“Jesus.” Lee shuddered. “I’ll let you do the honors. Thank fuck it’s not a retinal scan.”
14
Sylvia
“This isn’t real,” Cliff murmured woodenly. Even as he turned and found me beside him, his gaze was unfocused. “It has to be another shapeshifter. Tell me you can sense it, Sylv.”
My heart ached at the desperation on his face, thepleadinghidden beneath the flatness of his tone. The soulless nightmare of a man we had come to kill couldn’t possibly be…
“I’m sorry,” I whispered near his ear. “I don’t feel anything. He’s as human as you are.”
“You got tall,” Eros said, but he didn’t look at Cliff the way fathers were meant to look at their sons. That pleased, eager expression was more akin to someone coveting gold and precious stones. “Please, have a seat. We don’t have much time, but I’d prefer you to be comfortable while we talk. Do you drink?” He took a decanter from the bar cart.
Silence. Cliff gave him absolutely nothing.
