Abandoning the vehicle in the circular drive - motor running, door open - he sprinted for the house.
“Mabon!”
The front door banged against the wall. Rux’s boots thundered across marble floors.
“MABON!”
His mate’s office door stood ajar. Rux shoved through it, chest heaving, still clutching his phone.
Mabon sat behind his mahogany desk, laptop open, clearly mid-video conference. Three faces filled the screen - Tokyo investors in crisp suits. Mabon’s expression shifted from concentration to alarm.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me for one…”
“I found our Treasure!”
The words exploded out. Rux crossed to the desk, yanked his shirt collar down to expose the glowing heart stone still pulsing golden light against his skin.
Dead silence from the laptop speakers.
Mabon’s eyes went wide. His fingers froze above the keyboard.
“You...what?”
“Our Treasure. I saw him. In town. Right outside Harrison’s and the stone just…” Rux pressed his palm to his chest again, feeling the warmth. “It lit up, and my dragon knew, and I chased him, but there were too many tourists, and I lost him in the…”
“You WHAT?”
The bellow came from the garden doors. Urien stormed through them, soil streaking his forearms, a trowel still gripped in one hand, and his blue eyes so dark they were almost navy.
“Did you just say…?” Urien stopped and stared at Rux’s chest. The unmistakable glow of the heart stone told them all they needed to know.
“Oh.”
Mabon stood so quickly his chair rolled backward. He moved around the desk, one hand already reachingfor the stone, fingers hovering just above Rux’s skin.
“It’s real.” Wonder colored Mabon’s voice. “After all this time, it’s actually…”
A polite cough came from the laptop.
“Mr. Mabon? Shall we reschedule?”
Mabon didn’t even glance at the screen. “Yes. Reschedule. Everything. Cancel my afternoon. Week. Month if necessary.”
He slapped the laptop closed.
Urien dropped his trowel. It hit the Persian rug with a muffled thud. “Where?” His voice came out rough. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. I lost him near the boutiques on Ashford Lane, but he had coffee, and he was walking like he knew where he was going, so maybe he’s local? He has to be local. Brown hair. Glasses. These freckles across his nose and the most amazing…”
“Keys.” Urien turned toward the door. “Where are the keys?”
“In the Rover, it’s still running.”
Mabon grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. Urien was already moving, dirt-streaked and determined.
“Wait…” Rux jogged after them. “I should probably mention I have no idea what his name is or where exactly…”
“That doesn’t matter.” Mabon’s hand closed around Rux’s wrist, dragging him toward the front door. “We’ll find him. Search every street if we have to.”
