 
## **Contents**

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Code Onyx

Curse of the Blood Dragon, Book One

Val St. Crowe
CODE ONYX

© copyright 2018 by Val St. Crowe

http://vjchambers.com

Punk Rawk Books

CHAPTER ONE

The best thing going for Jesse Talon at the moment was that her drink was plenty strong.

Jesse liked strong drinks.

Yeah, amongst her list of likes, she'd list that. Strong drinks. The grip of a warm gun. Leather boots. And... eh, what the hell? Long walks on the beach. Cliché, but classic.

Jesse sipped at her drink and leveled her gaze across the table at Wyatt Flint, her mark. She wasn't trying to kill him. That would have been quicker, if that had been her mission. Easier too. Pull a trigger under the table, get out in the confusion afterward, done.

Jesse didn't like killing missions much. Okay, she hated them.

But these kinds of missions, they were worse.

To make matters worse, this mark, this Wyatt, was so damned oblivious that she wasn't making any headway. She leaned forward, making sure to give him an eyeful down her shirt, a hint of her push-up bra, which she'd put on precisely for this mission, to entice, and tried a slow, easy smile. "I guess I've just been a bit lonesome tonight."

Wyatt glanced at her cleavage, swallowed, and looked up at the ceiling. "Uh, yeah. That must be tough."

"Well, I'm glad I ran into you," she said, letting her voice drop, giving it a throaty hint. "You're good company." She'd been talking to Wyatt at this bar for hours now, about all manner of annoying, boring subjects, like the video games he was playing, and coming on crazy strong, but the idiot wasn't taking the bait.

She'd bought him round after round of drinks. He should be pretty wasted by now. She'd put money in the jukebox and played sexy songs, and tried to get him to dance, but he'd turned her down. Nothing she was doing was working.

He looked back at her, but he gazed into her eyes. "You too. I'm glad I ran into you."

It was Jesse's turn to look away. That... She shook herself. Well, just when she was convinced this guy was an anti-social dork, he looked at her like that. There was something sincere and confident about that look. It was anti-everything she thought she knew about Wyatt Flint. Who was this guy, anyway?

She didn't have as much intel on him as she would have liked. That was the way missions worked a lot of times. Information was doled out on a need-to-know basis. Anything deemed unnecessary by operations got left out.

Jesse always felt like that meant she was flying blind. She'd said so, given Steele a piece of her mind on it. But surprise, surprise that hadn't gone over well.

Wyatt was still talking. "I have to admit, I'm not really sure why it is you're happy to talk to me, though. You must be fairly desperate."

Her lips parted. "Yes." She shook her head. "I mean, no. You're... you know, there's a thing about you." Nice one, Talon, she chided herself.

Step one of the mission: seduce Wyatt Flint and secure his cooperation. Cooperation in what exactly, she didn't know. That hadn't been explained to her. No, Section X, the magical secret service organization she worked for had only told her to get in his pants and get him on her side.

Seduction was the quickest way to lock a man down, or that was the thinking of Section X. She wasn't a stranger to missions like this. Seduction was a powerful tool for a spy, magical or not, male or female, and she'd done her fair share of work between the sheets. Enough to come up with better lines than 'there's a thing about you.' She grimaced.

He arched an eyebrow and then the side of his mouth quirked up. "Yeah, well, there's a thing about you too." His gaze traveled over her, found her bare skin, and quickly moved back to the ceiling.

Two things, thought Jesse. They're called boobs.

Wyatt cleared his throat. He picked up his glass and emptied it. "Well, you know, it's getting late. They called last call a good twenty minutes ago. Probably time to get going."

What? Seriously? She thought she was getting somewhere with him and he was bailing on her? That was not happening. Her hand darted across the table to find his.

He jumped at her touch, startled. He jerked his hand back and his posture tightened. He went on alert, defensive.

She had made a mistake, then. She knew that kind of reaction to touch. It was familiar, since she reacted the same way if she wasn't careful. It was the reaction of someone who was always on guard against an attack. "Sorry," she murmured.

His face twitched. "No, I just..." He took a deep breath. "You startled me."

Who was this guy? Why hadn't she gotten more background on him from Steele? Maybe she was screwing everything up. Maybe he was wary for some reason that would be relevant. Or, hell, maybe whoever had scoped out Wyatt hadn't done their homework, and they didn't know anything about him. Maybe he was traumatized or—

"It really was nice talking to you." Wyatt got up from the table. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

She shot to her feet. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah."

She stepped around the table, pressed her body into his, looked up into his eyes. Blue eyes, sky blue, but there was a hardness in there that she didn't quite understand. And he was tall. She liked them tall, since she wasn't exactly a petite girl herself. "Don't leave," she whispered.

Wyatt swallowed again. "Uh... Jesse, they're closing the bar."

"Fine," she said. "Then let me come with you."

He drew in a long, slow breath, looking her over. This time his gaze lingered on her cleavage. Then he dragged his gaze up to her eyes. "Okay," he said softly. He backed away from her. "If you really want to."

She smiled, feeling triumphant. "I want to."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He put his hands in his pockets and started towards the door.

She was thrown for a minute, and then she went after him, shrugging into her coat.

He didn't even look over his shoulder to see if she was coming along.

She caught up to him at the door.

He held it open for her, and then once they were outside, walking together in the chilly winter night, he settled into an even pace next to her.

"I could have had to settle up at the bar," she said. "You didn't even wait."

"I saw you paid cash," he said, glancing at her.

"Listen, if you don't like me—"

"I like you fine." His voice was flat.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. That kind of weird passive aggressive talk had no place in a seduction. It wasn't like they were dating or something. It was only that she felt off balance. She didn't know how to take this guy. She should have the upper hand in this situation. She was playing him. But she didn't feel like she had any power over him at all. She only felt confused.

"But you're desperate," he said. "I just don't know for what."

She didn't even know how to respond to that.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I..." She hadn't been given a cover story. This was supposed to be easy. Get a guy drunk, get him into bed. Why wasn't this easy? She pressed into him. "Maybe I'm desperate for you."

He eyed her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She gave him a particularly sultry look.

He let out a strangled laugh, looked up at the sky, and then put his arm around her.

Okay, good. They were getting somewhere, then.

"Are all women in this world like you?" he said.

"What?" In what world?

"You know," he muttered, more to himself than to her, "I guess it wouldn't make sense for real girls to be like the ones on TV."

She didn't even respond to that.

His arm tightened around her shoulders.

She leaned into his warmth. She liked the feel of his body through his coat. The lean hardness of him. She felt her own body growing tighter in anticipation, and she tried to shut that down. It was very bad when she had to do these kinds of missions with men who disgusted her, but it was worse in a perverse way when they didn't. Wyatt wasn't making her disgusted at all. Puzzled and frustrated, sure. But also... charmed, somehow. There was something about him, like she'd said. Even with all his bumbling inability to have a decent conversation, there was a quality to him, something somber and... and noble in a strange way.

They walked without speaking for a few blocks, and then Wyatt pointed. "We'll go in the back."

They were in front of one of the older buildings down near the shore in Sea City. It had a sign that read The Purple Dolphin Hotel and Suites. It was one of those older hotels, probably built in the late 1800s, two stories. It looked like a large house, not like the garish twenty-story hotels further up the coast.

"You're staying here?" she said.

He steered her around the side of the building. The sidewalk gave way to sand. In the distance, she could see the beach stretching out behind the hotel, hear the roar of the ocean. In the winter, the wind was cold and harsh.

"I live here," he said.

They stumbled a little in the sand, maybe because of their level of inebriation. Jesse held her liquor well. She had to when her job demanded she do whatever she had to even if she was three sheets to the wind. But the shift of the sand under her feet had a different feel. She didn't know what he meant. He lived in the hotel? Like, he paid to live here permanently?

She didn't ask.

They crossed under a porch overhead, steps leading down to the beach. They walked by a pool, closed up for the winter. Then Wyatt let go of her to open up a sliding glass door, and they tumbled into the warmth of the indoors.

He turned on the light. It was a suite, an L shaped room containing a kitchen on one wall and a couch on the other. Inside the L was the bedroom. It was a typical hotel suite, but it looked very lived in. There were clothes strewn over the back of the couch. The TV had a video game console attached and controllers were on the floor.

Wyatt took off his coat and tossed it on the couch. He held out his hand for her coat.

She shed it.

He reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. His hand was cold.

She hooked her hands up around his neck and peered up at him.

His face dipped down.

And she slammed her eyes shut, because she knew he was going to kiss her, and she found that she wanted him to, which was probably a bad thing, probably a very, very bad thing.

The kiss never came.

She opened her eyes.

He reached up and unwound her hands from around her neck. "I'm way too drunk for this."

She let out a little laugh. "Don't be silly."

He gave her a wry smile. "Trust me, I know..." He turned around, blowing out air. "You're a very pretty girl, and very nice. I like you, and I'd rather not, uh, disappoint you."

She laughed again. "Wyatt, there's no way you could—"

"I'll take the couch." He turned to look at her. "You can take the bed." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the bedroom.

She raised her eyebrows. "You're serious? You don't want to...?"

"Wanting and being able are completely different things," he said, rubbing his forehead. With that, he sat down heavily on the couch. He groaned and kicked off his shoes before lying down on his side.

Moments passed. He didn't move. The only sound was the steady in and out of his breathing, and the distant echo of the ocean outside.

She tried to think of something to say. Couldn't. Then she decided she didn't need to talk. She was here. She'd just let her fingers do the talking, let her body communicate. She sat down on the couch next to him and let her fingers crawl over his hip to his stomach.

He stirred and his hand shot out to catch her wrist. He squeezed.

She let out a little cry. It hurt.

He dropped her hand, eyes snapping open. "Geez," he muttered. "Don't do that."

She realized he'd been asleep, and she'd startled him. She licked her lips. "Sorry," she said softly. "Go back to sleep." She got up and made her way into the bedroom. None of this was going the way she'd expected.

CHAPTER TWO

When Jesse woke up, she had a hangover, but that was the least of her problems.

It had been a wasted night.

She had been sent on a mission, and she had failed, and she didn't fail. Last night, she should have tried harder. She shouldn't have crawled into his bed alone and fallen dead asleep, no matter how tired or stressed she'd been. She should have woken him up and forced him to be with her, because...

Oh, hell, that wouldn't have done any good at all. He either wanted her or he didn't, and near as she could tell, he didn't.

Maybe she could try again this morning, but she had bed head and her breath was radioactive and her makeup was smeared and she wasn't exactly at the top of her game. She sat up in bed and rubbed her throbbing temples.

The door to the bedroom was open, and she could see that Wyatt was curled up on the couch in a little ball. He was still asleep.

Maybe if she went into the bathroom, she could get herself together enough to be presentable. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and wandered into the bathroom, yawning. One look at herself in the mirror told her that she had her work cut out for her. Her eye makeup had gone everywhere. She looked like a raccoon. She groaned.

The bathroom, like the rest of the suite, seemed lived in. There was a bottle of shaving cream and a razor sitting on the counter, along with some hair gel and aftershave. She sorted through the things on the counter for some lotion. She should really keep cold cream in her purse, she thought. There was no lotion on the sink.

She spun around, and then spied something through the door, sitting on the bedside table next to the bed.

Of course. Lotion next to the bed. Where else would a guy keep it?

Grimacing, she went to gingerly pick it up, although she supposed it was silly to be squeamish, because it wasn't like she hadn't come here with the precise purpose of getting into this guy's pants. She applied lotion to her face and began to use some tissues to remove her eye makeup. It wasn't great, but it worked in a pinch.

She didn't look much better sans makeup, however. Now, she was bleary-eyed and freckly. She stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror.

The door to the suite opened.

Jesse froze.

"Wyatt?" called a female voice. "You awake? Did you go out last night again?"

The angle of the mirror allowed Jesse to see that a woman was coming into the room. She was pretty, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties. She had her hair pulled into a sloppy bun on top of her head and wore jeans and a sweatshirt. But the mirror worked both ways. She saw Jesse too.

Damn it.

What the hell? Jesse was better than this. Some stealthy secret agent she was this morning.

The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Uh... hello."

Jesse tried a smile. "Hi, there. Do you work at the hotel?"

"I own the hotel," said the woman, giving Jesse a once over. Her lips pursed in disapproval. "I'm Wyatt's mother."

Jesse tugged her shirt up to hide her cleavage, feeling self-conscious. "Mother?" Oh, whoa. Wyatt Flint lived at home? This was definitely not covered in the intel.

At that moment, Wyatt sat up on the couch, blinking hard.

"Wyatt," said his mother. "Could I talk to you?"

Wyatt scratched his stomach. He yawned. He looked from his mother to Jesse and then back to his mother. "Yeah," he muttered. He stumbled to his feet and staggered over to her.

She wrinkled up her nose. "You smell like a distillery."

Wyatt dragged a hand over his face. "I have a guest, so..."

His mother opened the door and gestured for him to walk out of the suite.

Wyatt shot an apologetic look over his shoulder at Jesse and then walked through the door.

His mother followed him out and shut the door behind them.

Jesse waited a second and then scampered over to the door and put her ear against it to listen to their conversation.

"... your father's drinking, but that was because he was grieving," his mother was saying. "I don't know what's wrong with you."

"I think it's normal, Mom," Wyatt said. "For people my age to get drunk. Isn't that what you want? Me to be normal?"

"Wyatt, please." A sigh. "Why is that girl here?"

"Why do you think she's here?" Wyatt's voice was bland.

"So... that's who you are, that's what you do? You take random strangers home with you and... and..."

Nothing from Wyatt.

His mother's voice was different now, unsure. "You've never brought home girls before."

"Do we have to do this right now? Do you have any idea how you're making me look?"

"How am I making you look?"

"Well, not normal, Mom. Not normal at all."

"Stop saying that," she said tightly.

The door to the suite opened again.

Jesse hurried away from the door, darting back into the bedroom. She peered out to see that Wyatt was back inside, talking through the door with his mother.

"I'll find you later, okay, Mom?" said Wyatt. He shut the door and leaned against it, shutting his eyes and muttering something under his breath that sounded like a string of swear words. Finally, he opened his eyes.

Jesse leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, unsure of how to take things from here. "That's your mother, huh?"

"Yeah," said Wyatt. "Sorry, I guess I could have mentioned that I am a loser who lives with his parents."

"You're not a loser." She gave him another of her sultry smiles.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," she said, but she didn't meet his eyes.

"I get a vibe from you, like you're in bad trouble," he said. "Like you're running from something and you just want to drown it out. I saw the way you were drinking last night."

"You were drinking just the same as me," she said.

"Yeah." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, why do you think I get that vibe? Maybe I understand."

"I'm fine," she said, and she felt unnerved. She hadn't meant to seem like a straight-up mess last night. She'd meant to be appealing. What the hell? Was she actually bad at this, or was Wyatt too observant? Maybe she always came off like that. Maybe most men didn't care. "You're mother is really..."

"Annoying?"

"Young."

He smirked. "Yeah, well, she's a dragon. She ages slow."

Oh. Other things Jesse had not been apprised of. But why should she be surprised? After all, half of the time, her marks were dragons. Dragons were rich and powerful as a general rule. They were the kind of men the government wanted to influence. "Guess that makes you a dragon too."

"Yeah, sort of." He took a step toward her. "You're not answering my question."

"There was a question there? I seem to remember you just making a lot of judgments about me, someone you don't really know."

"I don't know you," he said. "But you're the one who said you were desperate for me." He spread his hands. "Not liking what you get?"

This was not going well. Not at all. Maybe the best thing to do at this point was to retreat and regroup. If she hadn't bungled the entire operation already, that is.

She crossed the room to him, putting her palm against his chest. "Of course I like it. I like you. But maybe you need some time with your mother? She seemed upset. Maybe we could meet up later." She let her fingers dance over his chest, all the way down to his stomach, to the button of his jeans.

His breath hitched.

She smiled. "Later," she whispered. She went up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek, which was prickly since he hadn't shaved. And then she beelined for the sliding door and got out of there before she screwed up anything worse than she already had.

* * *

Connor Beckett didn't mean to overhear the argument between his boss and best friend Penny Caspian Flint and her son Wyatt, but they were kind of loud. He was drinking his coffee and lounging behind the front desk in the hotel where he worked. It was early evening, but Connor had just started his day, because he was a gargoyle, and that meant he spent all daylight hours as stone. Only at night did he wake up and get moving.

And working the front desk at an oceanfront hotel in the winter was kind of a joke. They weren't exactly busy this time of the year.

"You have been avoiding this all day," Penny was saying, chasing her son across the lobby of the hotel.

Wyatt, head down, shuffled past, heading back to his suite. Connor had lived in that suite himself at one point. He'd liked it well enough, but eventually, it had been time for him to move on and get a place of his own.

Penny caught her son by the arm and stopped him. "Don't walk away from me. We are going to talk about this. You've been avoiding me all day, and I'm not going to let you run off again."

Wyatt shook her off and glared at her. "Talk about this how? What is there to say?"

"Well, I don't know," she said. "I know that when we were in Dractera, you wanted to marry that princess from Breckmere, and your father and I talked you out of it, because we knew we'd be coming back home—"

"It was a good alliance," said Wyatt. "Their army was strong. They trained their archers better than ours, and we needed every advantage against Willoughby's dragons. It wasn't about anything else."

Dractera was another dimension, a medieval-like one, where time worked differently. Penny and Wyatt had been trapped there, along with Wyatt's father, Lachlan. It had been two months in the human world, twenty years there.

During that time, Wyatt had grown up and become some kind of ruler or something in that world. Then Wyatt and his parents had found their way home, and Wyatt had been yanked back into the modern, human world.

Connor could tell that Wyatt wasn't exactly adjusting very well.

"Well, you were angry we blocked the marriage," said Penny. "And it's the only time you've ever seemed... interested... which is probably abnormal, I don't know, but there were so many responsibilities in Dractera, and..." She twisted her hands together. "Who was that girl this morning? I guess I always thought you'd introduce me to someone you were dating."

"I just met her last night," said Wyatt.

"Oh, well, that's wonderful," said Penny, looking horrified. "Listen, Wyatt, there are things you need to understand about this world. It may seem as if things are more permissible here. There's no negotiation with princess's fathers for dowries, but there are dangers, and you need to know about condoms and about diseases and—"

"I do know." Wyatt was blushing. "You gave me free rein of the Internet, Mom. I know."

She sighed. "Oh, hell. Your father should be talking to you about this, not me."

"I slept on the couch, anyway," said Wyatt. "If you really want to know."

Penny's lips parted. She was quiet for a moment before saying, "Oh," in a tiny voice.

Wyatt jammed his hands into his pockets. "Are we done with this?"

"Wyatt, I'm worried about you," said Penny, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I don't feel like you're adjusting well. Why don't you reconsider taking classes at the community college like we talked about?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Not yet. I've barely been back here a month. I think it's okay if I haven't adjusted yet, you know?"

"No, of course, it's only that you seem to be drinking so much. You stay up all night. You sleep all day. You're angry with me and your father for something—"

"I'm not." Wyatt shook his head. "Everything's fine. I'm having fun, that's all. I'm taking it easy. I'm partying hard. I'm trying to be normal. You only ever wanted a normal life for me, but now that I have it, you're not satisfied."

Penny patted his cheek. "Sweetheart, you're the one who doesn't seem satisfied."

Wyatt's face twisted. He backed away from his mother's touch.

"Wyatt," she said softly.

He shook his head and turned his back on her, hurrying away.

Penny sunk her hands into her hair. She turned in a circle and noticed Connor.

Connor cringed. "I'm so sorry, Penny. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you guys were right there, and I couldn't help but listen in, and..."

It was all very strange for Connor, actually. There was Wyatt, all grown up and man-shaped. As if, months ago, Connor hadn't been blowing raspberries on the little guy's tummy and listening to him scream in laughter. Wyatt had been two years old when he got trapped in Dractera.

"No, it's okay," said Penny. "You might not be related to us, but you're family, Connor, and I don't mean to hide anything from you." She came over to the front desk and leaned over it, resting her elbows and looking dejected. "I don't even know what to do anymore."

"I'm guessing he, uh, brought a girl home?"

Penny laughed helplessly. "He's an adult, Connor, and he would obviously be frustrated. Hell, he was running a small country before we uprooted him, and now he has nothing to do except play video games and get drunk and..." She straightened. "I thought it would be better for him to get home. I don't know what I was thinking. He was better off in Dractera."

"Hey, Penny, you guys were in Dractera against your will," he said. "Of course you wanted to go home. You guys got trapped there accidentally."

"I know." She nodded. "But something's wrong with him. I don't even know what it is. All I know is that I'm worried, and I feel guilty."

"You're doing the best you can under trying circumstances," said Connor. "You shouldn't forget that you've been gone for twenty years too, and for us it was only a few months. It's weird for everyone."

"It's the weirdest for Wyatt," she said. "He doesn't remember before. He was too young when we were taken to that world. Listen, could you keep an eye on him for me?"

"Me?" Connor touched his chest.

"Well, you're sort of his age."

Connor snorted. "I am not." Then he thought about it. He was only about five years older than Wyatt now. He made a face. "Okay, that's just... very, very weird. How can Wyatt be twenty-two? You just gave birth to him."

Penny gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry you missed him growing up, Connor."

"I was his night nanny," said Connor. "I'm Uncle Connor, and he's a baby. That's the way things are supposed to be."

"I know, but they're not." Penny cocked her head to one side. "Please? Just go to whatever bar he goes to and hang out with him?"

"You want me to drink with your son? Your little son?"

Penny shrugged. "You don't have to drink if you don't want, I guess."

Connor grimaced. "It feels wrong somehow."

"Will you do it or not?"

Connor shrugged. "Yeah. I will. I guess." He squared his shoulders. "It would be better for him to have someone looking out for him."

"Exactly," said Penny. "And I trust you with my life, Connor. So, make sure he's okay, all right?"

* * *

Jesse and her partner, Roland Duke, were set up in a pair of connecting rooms in one of the garish hotels further up the coast. Section X had put them up there, and the accommodations were nice enough. She'd stayed in worse places. Yeah, there were complaints to lay at the door of Section X, but she couldn't accuse them of making them sleep in the slums.

All right, hell, she could accuse them of anything, including kicking puppies and being ugly, but accusing didn't do crap, anyway, even if it were true. When it came to Section X, she had to take it for what it was.

Maybe she did her fair share of complaining, though. She wasn't one to grin and bear it. Sometimes she got mouthy.

When she'd gotten back that morning, she was still exhausted, and so she'd rolled into bed and slept for a few more hours. She'd woken to Duke bringing in some lunch from a local restaurant later. She got up then and munched on burgers and greasy fries with him.

They ate in silence.

Duke wasn't much for small talk, admittedly. He was big and muscular and black. He had green eyes with a reptilian pupil, which gave him an singularly appealing look. He had scales in other places too, but he wore them well. Duke was a drake. Some drakes got the short end of the stick with the way they changed. Their dragon features made them look monstrous. But Duke only looked badass and hot.

Not that she thought of Duke that way. He was her partner. Fraternizing between Section X agents was highly frowned upon. Jesse could see the sense in that. It could cause all kinds of problems.

Drakes were human-dragon hybrids. They got that way because they died after ingesting dragon flesh. They were like vampires in that way, only vampires died after drinking dragon blood. Like vampires, drakes were immortal and tough to kill. Vampires needed blood to exist. Drakes needed meat. Both healed quickly, and the only ways to kill either were beheading and fire.

Well, there was Jesse's gun Sweetcheeks, but that was her own unique weapon.

After finishing his burger, Duke crumpled up his wrapper and threw it in the trash. "So?" he said, not looking at her.

She chewed on a fry. "Going to need more than that." She had no idea what he was talking about.

"The mark," said Duke. "You get him on board?"

"Oh," she said. "That."

Duke turned to look at her. "That doesn't sound like an affirmative, Talon."

"It's not," she said, eating another fry. "Whole thing was a disaster. First of all, I went in practically blind. Not nearly enough intel on this guy. I think he's a dragon, but no one told me that."

"Shouldn't matter," said Duke. "They tell us what we need to know."

"It matters if I can't seal the deal," she said.

Duke raised his eyebrows, which weren't hair, but glittering emerald scales against his chocolate skin. "No?"

"No," she said.

He let out a breath, rolling his head on his shoulders and then sat down on a chair in her hotel room. He propped his legs up on the bed, looking relaxed. "Well, that's too bad."

"It is," she said, "because it means I have to try again."

Duke put his feet down on the floor, tensing. "Right."

They were quiet again. She suddenly wasn't in the mood for any more of her fries.

"Steele wants him locked down before we move on," said Duke. "Her exact words were that you should make him adore you, make him do anything for you."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't for lack of trying. I got him to take me home and everything, but then he—"

"I don't need details." Duke was on his feet again.

"What if he's mated?" she said. "If he's a dragon, he's got a mate, and maybe that's why he wasn't interested in me."

Duke studied his knuckles. "You've turned the heads of mated dragons before."

The dragon mating bond was a powerful bit of sexual attraction, but it didn't mean that dragons were never unfaithful to their mates, it was true.

Jesse sighed. "I know. I don't know what went wrong last night, but I'll make sure it goes better tonight. I want this over with."

"Yeah," said Duke. "I know."

She regarded him. Duke was a drake, so he wasn't always the flavor of man that might turn a woman's head, but he was also virile, oozing a powerful sensuality that Section X took advantage of when necessary. He'd done his share of these sorts of missions too. She knew he understood it.

Duke crossed the room to the window and pulled aside the curtains. The window looked out on the parking lot, not on the ocean, since those rooms were cheaper. Section X could roll out the money when necessary, but only then. They didn't waste cash needlessly. "You want help? We could wire you up. I could listen in, prompt you."

She wriggled, feeling uncomfortable just thinking about that. "Let's leave that as a last resort."

"Yeah," said Duke. "I agree."

CHAPTER THREE

Wyatt grudgingly accepted the beer that Connor was offering him. "My mom sent you after me."

Connor flexed his wings. "No, she didn't. I just wanted us to, uh, catch up."

The two were in a bar down the street from the hotel. Connor only came here with his straight friends. If he was going out on the town in Sea City, he had his own places he liked to frequent. It was easier to be in a bar where he could assume the guys were interested. Hitting on straight guys was only frustrating and heartbreaking, in his own experience.

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "You're not like—"

"No," said Connor, before Wyatt could finish.

"Because I've heard the stuff you say about my dad," said Wyatt.

"That's just joking," said Connor, fluttering his wings again, feeling self-conscious. Lachlan Flint was attractive, and Connor tended to be outspoken about his attraction to men, especially straight men.

In a way, it was his defense mechanism. He'd been in too many situations where straight guys found his own brand of flamboyancy overbearing. Connor had tried toning it down, but he felt as if he wasn't being true to himself, and it didn't work anyway. No matter what he did, he freaked people out.

There were gay guys who didn't stand out, but Connor was not one of them. He was a gargoyle, and he was a card-carrying friend of Dorothy, thank you very much. He liked the whole nine—musical theater, painting his fingernails (okay occasionally), Bette Davis, tossing his head, throwing around his limp wrist... Screw it. It was who he was. He hadn't asked for it. He only knew that he couldn't be any other way.

Anyway, there was no stuffing down his queerness.

So, it was better to just put it out there. It made things easier. He "flirted" with Lachlan, but it wasn't to Lachlan, it was just about Lachlan, because it sent out signals, and then everyone knew where they stood. Connor didn't truly have a thing for Penny's husband. That would be weird.

"Yeah, okay," said Wyatt.

Connor brushed aside his hair, making his movements a little more dramatic than he maybe needed to. "Look, sweetie, as far as I'm concerned, you are a child, understand? I have changed your diapers, and it was only months ago for me."

Wyatt wrinkled up his nose. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

Connor let that thought connect, was horrified, felt like vomiting, and didn't say anything at all.

Wyatt put his hand on his shoulder. "Sorry," he said in a soft voice. "I just..."

"Your mother did send me," said Connor, looking at Wyatt. "I'm not at all hitting on you."

"No, I get that," said Wyatt. "I can tell."

And they were quiet.

Connor didn't know what to say now. He needed to find some kind of rapport with Wyatt, but he had no idea what that might be. Seemingly, they had nothing in common. Even what Wyatt wanted to drink, a glass of the lager on tap, was in striking contrast to Connor's own rum runner. He licked his lips. "Um, you come to this bar a lot?"

"I guess."

"Because you've been drinking a lot."

"If you're just going to be my mother's mouthpiece, you can leave."

Connor sighed. "She's worried about you is all. That's what mothers do."

Wyatt shrugged. He drank some beer. "She needs to give me some space, though. Hell, maybe I should move out, get my own place."

"How would you do that? You don't have a job."

"I'll get one."

"You don't even have the skills to live on your own in this world. You've barely been back here for a month."

Wyatt shrugged again. "I picked up Xbox pretty quick. How hard can it all be?"

"Hard," said Connor. "Trust me, when I was kicked out of my mother's house, I would never have made it on my own if it hadn't been for Penny. She gave me a job and a place to live and she helped me out. You try to go at this on your own, when you don't even know how to set up a bank account, it's going to be a disaster."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence," Wyatt muttered into his beer.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"You know, I think the biggest problem is that no one thinks I can do anything. It's like I'm an invalid or something."

"I don't think that about you," said Connor. "I'm sure there are tons of things you can do."

Wyatt drained the beer glass. "They made it so there was nothing for me to do except lie around and then, when I do that, they're annoyed."

"Who's 'they'?" Connor furrowed his brow. "And you drank that really fast."

"Shove it," said Wyatt. "And 'they' are my parents, obviously." He got up. "Look, I'm going to get another drink. Why don't you just pretend you watched me for Mom, and go do something you actually want to do?"

Connor glared at him. "I'm not leaving you alone. I promised Penny I'd keep an eye on you."

"Great," said Wyatt. "Just what I always wanted. A chaperone with wings."

* * *

By the time Jesse got back to the bar where she'd met Wyatt the night before, he was already pretty wasted. Guy must have started early that night. He was also in the company of a gargoyle who had a drink with an umbrella in the glass.

Damn.

Drunk Wyatt wasn't great. Last night, he'd claimed he was too drunk to be with her. Tonight would probably be the same thing if she went for it again. Maybe, since he was so wasted, it was better to use tonight as an information-gathering exercise.

Last night, she'd blown it, playing the adoring flirt. She hadn't bothered to ask him anything meaningful. But this Wyatt person was obviously powerful or they wouldn't need him for this mission. He was a dragon. He had said strange things, like that comment about girls in "this world." Maybe what she needed to do was understand him.

And once she understood him, maybe then she could seduce him.

Duke wouldn't like it, of course, because it would mean more time in Sea City with Duke twiddling his thumbs, nothing to do, but Duke would have to deal.

Decided, she squared her shoulders and sashayed across the bar to the table where Wyatt was sitting.

Wyatt and the gargoyle looked up at her. Wyatt's mouth twisted into a grin. "Well, if it isn't Jesse the hot chick, back again. Still desperate?"

Jesse decided to ignore his barb. She pointed at an empty chair. "This seat taken?"

"Please join us," said Wyatt.

The gargoyle stuck his hand in her face. "I'm Connor." His voice went up in pitch at the end. Was he gay?

Jesse shook hands with him. "Jesse," she said. "You a friend of Wyatt's?"

"More like my babysitter," said Wyatt.

Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to be your friend."

"Which is something only a babysitter would say," said Wyatt.

Jesse had to admit that Wyatt had a point there. But she didn't understand what was going on at all. "Do you need a babysitter?"

"My mother thinks so," said Wyatt.

"Oh, right," said Jesse. "Your mother. It isn't my fault she sent someone out to look after you, is it?"

Wyatt cocked his head to one side and looked her over. "You're hiding something, Jesse. Or else you want something. It doesn't make sense for a girl like you to be so interested in a guy like me."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," said Connor. "There is nothing wrong with you, Wyatt."

Wyatt laughed, and it went on just a little too long. "Don't you need another drink, Connor?"

Connor looked down at his nearly empty glass. "I guess maybe."

"Good." Wyatt nodded in the direction of the bar. "Get us another round, then. Put it on my tab. Mom's footing the bill. She's loaded."

Connor pressed his lips together. "Fine," he said, tossing his head. Yeah. Definitely gay. Jesse eyed Wyatt. Was Wyatt gay? But no, because she remembered the way he'd looked at her last night. She didn't think so. Connor got up from the table and sauntered over to the bar.

Wyatt turned back to Jesse. "When I was maybe ten years old, I became a, er, very important person back where I grew up, and by the time I was fifteen, the girls started showing up."

Jesse was still completely confused, but she was trying to figure this guy out, so she decided to keep her mouth shut. Where was he going with this?

"Not a lot," said Wyatt. "Because girls in that world are different than girls here. It's all down to subsistence-level agriculture and a lack of birth control. Tends to breed patriarchal structures, but that's neither here nor there."

"What are you talking about?" said Jesse.

Wyatt laughed again. "Sorry, I'll get to the point, which is that these girls, they needed things from me, because I had power back then. And they wanted to trade. I help them, they, uh, service me. I was raised better than that, though. I wouldn't take advantage of a girl in distress. I just helped them, you know. I didn't ask for things in return. You, Jesse, you remind me of those girls."

Jesse moistened her lips. Yeah, well, she had copped to being desperate last night, hadn't she? Damn, who was this guy? She had played it all wrong, she was sure of it, but she didn't know why.

"Thing is," said Wyatt, "I don't have any power, not anymore. So, unless you're just so bad off that you don't even have a place to sleep, what is it you want from me?"

She swallowed. "It's not like that."

"How is it not like that?"

"I'm not pretending to like you to get something. It's not... a transaction." It actually was. She felt bile rising in her throat. How had Wyatt seen through her so easily, seen to the truth underneath it all?

"Why are you desperate, then?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Why don't we talk about you for a change?"

"We talked about me last night."

"We didn't talk about anything last night," she said. "Where are you from, Wyatt? What kind of power did you have?" The wheels in her head were turning. He had said "this world," which would imply that he had been living in a different world. Did that mean another country or another culture, or did he mean it literally?

"Sure you don't want to get something from me?"

"Positive." She sat up straight. "Another world, like another dimension? Like where the dragons came from? Is that where you're from? You're not from this world?"

He shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Last night, were you just playing dumb?"

"You think I'm dumb?" She raised her eyebrows, deciding that she'd pretend to be offended. Wyatt Flint wasn't a guy who was going to be taken in by an easy lay. She needed to show him that she had a bit of fire to her. Which was good, because she didn't have to pretend at all. "You're a dragon. I know about magical creatures. I know a lot. I'm a mage, all right?" She raised her hand and shook her wrist at him. There was a talisman bracelet there, decorated with dragon scales.

All magic came from dragons. Dragon shifters made it just by existing. Everyone else had to take the magic from dragons. Most did by using talismans—pieces of dead dragons whether that be scales, teeth, or claws. Jesse wasn't really a mage, because she'd never been trained extensively in spells and potions, but as a magical agent for Section X, she knew her way around magic.

Wyatt spread his hands. "Well, this is Sea City, the magical creatures capital of the world." It wasn't, technically, but magical creatures did tend to congregate in Sea City. "Guess it's not surprising that I'd run into someone magical. What's your point?"

"My point is, you don't have to worry about freaking me out. I know about this stuff. I know that all the dragons came over to our world over a thousand years ago. They came from another world. A completely different dimension. So, such things are possible. You keep talking about being in another world, so tell me, is that where you're from?"

Wyatt sank his hands into his hair and sighed. "No. I'm not from the place the dragons came from. I'm from here. Our world. But I was accidentally trapped in another world, one called Dractera. It was an accident. My parents and I were all trapped there."

Jesse's eyes widened. "Really?" She understood such a thing was theoretically possible, but it wasn't the kind of magic dabbled in at Section X. An entirely different world. "What was it like there?"

"They had dragons there, too, but they weren't like our dragons. They weren't shapeshifters, and they were bigger. There was magic there, too, but they weren't as technologically advanced as we were."

She sorted through her memory of their conversation. "That comment about agrarian society? That's why you said it."

He spread his hands.

Connor was back, sitting two drinks on the table. "Sorry, honey," he said to Jesse. "I would have gotten you something, but I didn't know what you wanted."

"It's fine," said Jesse, annoyed at the interruption. She turned back to Wyatt. "And you had power there?"

Wyatt picked up his beer and took a drink.

"What are you two talking about?" said Connor. "Hmm?"

"It's not like it's a secret," said Wyatt, but he wasn't looking at Connor. "It's not like I can't talk about it."

"Talk about what?" said Connor.

Wyatt fixed his gaze on Jesse. "I still have power. I'm the blood dragon. Fat lot of good it is to anyone, though. Not here in this world. And not anymore."

Jesse's lips parted. "What do you mean? What's a blood dragon?"

Connor cleared his throat. "Um, sorry, honey," he said to Jesse, "but Wyatt here has had way too much to drink."

Wyatt snorted. He got up from the table.

Connor got up too. "Wyatt, I don't think—"

"Stop." Wyatt put his finger in Connor's face. "And don't follow me either." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the bar.

Connor's eyes were the size of saucers. He folded his arms over his chest and fluttered his wings. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss the terrible twos."

Jesse had no idea why he'd said that, but she didn't care. She got up too.

"Where are you going?" said Connor.

"I'm pretty sure it's you he doesn't want to follow him, not me," said Jesse. She shrugged on her coat and went out of the bar after Wyatt.

Once outside, the air was cold and windy. She zipped up her coat and put her hands in her pockets. She didn't see Wyatt anywhere, and she didn't think he'd had the chance to get far.

She took off back in the direction they'd gone the night before, toward the hotel.

But when she reached the edge of the building that housed the bar, there was a narrow alley. She turned to look down it, and there was Wyatt. He was leaning up against the wall, staring up at the night sky. Clouds of hot breath came out of his nose when he breathed.

"Hey," she said.

He glanced at her and then looked back at the stars.

She took this as an invitation. She made her way over to him.

"You probably think I'm making it up," said Wyatt. "Trying to impress you."

"No," she said.

"Right," he muttered. "You're desperate. I don't need to impress you." He eyed her, a hard glint in his eye. "Want to do it out here? Right here in the alley?"

She was taken aback, but did her best to switch gears, pressing close to him. "It's a little cold out here," she whispered. "Maybe if we go back to my hotel—"

"So, you're not homeless?"

"What's a blood dragon?"

"The blood dragon. There's only one, and I'm it. I was born to a dragon and a vampire for the express purpose of driving back the Green King and the children of the deep."

She didn't understand the things he was saying again. "Vampires can't have children."

"I know, that's why I'm special." He held her gaze with his own. "You don't know this? Really? That's not why you're pursuing me?"

"Really," she said. "I want to know, though." She wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head on his shoulder.

His arm settled around her waist. "My parents knew they were bringing the blood dragon into the world. They knew my destiny was to fight and kill monsters. And they didn't want that for me. They wanted me to have a normal life." He spat the words out as if they tasted bad. "They killed the Green King themselves. They stole my destiny. And now... what's the point of me, huh?"

She was processing this, filing it all away, trying to understand it. It fit, she supposed. If Wyatt really was this blood dragon, maybe that was why he was so powerful, and why Section X wanted his help for this mission.

His fingers came under her chin, lifting her face so that he could look into her eyes. His voice was a harsh whisper. "Is the point of me to screw girls like you in their hotel rooms? Is the point of me to get wasted drunk and argue with my mother?"

She backed away from him, away from his touch. It was all coming together now. How to secure Wyatt's cooperation. Seduction wasn't the way at all. No, she knew what she needed to do.

"Hey," said Wyatt. "Where are you going? I thought you were desperate for me."

"Listen, Wyatt, give me..." She needed time to think through all the details, put it together so it made sense. "Could we meet tomorrow? I could come to your place."

He laughed. It was bitter. "You think I'm crazy."

"That's not it at all. I believe you."

"I can prove it, if you want." He held up his own wrist and there was a leather band there. "Want to see?"

"See what?"

He laughed again, under his breath. He took off the leather band. He shut his eyes.

She waited, and it was cold, and she shivered a little. What was he doing? He was very drunk, and she needed time away from him now. She needed to talk to Duke, get his thoughts on the idea, put it all together. Maybe she should simply go.

Wyatt's eyes opened.

There was a sound overhead, a flutter of wings.

She looked up.

Dragons. At least four of them, with varied colors of scales. Two green ones, one orange, another blue-ish gray. They crowded out the night sky above them.

Jesse tensed.

Most dragons were shifters, which meant that they were people too. But there were other dragons, and she only knew about them because of Section X. Those dragons were wild and savage. When they came, they attacked, burning down everything in sight, killing people and destroying. They were terrifying. She didn't know which kinds of dragons these were, but she knew it wasn't normal for shifters to be seen in this side of Sea City. Too many slayers hung out here. That meant these were probably the dangerous kind of dragons.

Jesse reached down and got her gun out of her ankle holster. The gun was named Sweetcheeks, and it wasn't a normal gun. It was magic. There was dragon bone inlaid in the handle, special spells woven into its metal.

She'd inherited the gun. She knew that it was a .38 Iver Johnson Safety Automatic revolver. Which didn't mean that it had a safety or that it was an automatic. It was a revolver. It was an antique gun, and it did have a safety feature which kept it from going off if it was dropped. Sweetcheeks had been in her family for generations.

The gun held six bullets, bullets that she never had to load. Once she'd fired the bullets, new ones regenerated within about an hour. The bullets were harmful to magical creatures. Even things that were hard to kill, like vampires and drakes, could be killed with a bullet to their head from Sweetcheeks. She'd never used Sweetcheeks against dragons, but if she had to, she would. The gun had never failed her before.

Wyatt glanced down at her weapon. "Don't worry," he said. "I've got them completely under control." He smiled widely and nodded at the dragons.

They all alighted in the alley, in a line, one right behind the other. They bowed to Wyatt.

Jesse swallowed. The blood dragon, huh? What was he?

Wyatt stepped out into the alley and gave her a clumsy bow. "Ta da!"

Behind him, the dragons rose up on their wings, flapping their way into the sky.

"I can make them dive and do flips," said Wyatt. "Whatever you want. It's a great party trick." He craned his neck back to look up at the dragons.

She looked up too.

Next to her, Wyatt stumbled.

She reached out to steady him.

"I really have had too much to drink," Wyatt muttered, staggering into her.

She grunted. Now all of his weight was leaning into her.

He flailed backward, moving off of her, but he lost his balance completely, his legs going out from under him. He hit the pavement hard, his head bouncing against the asphalt.

"Geez," said Jesse, kneeling down next to him. "You all right?"

Wyatt didn't answer.

"Wyatt?"

He was unconscious.

She looked up at the dragons, who weren't doing flips, but coming back down for her, jaws gaping.

CHAPTER FOUR

One of the green dragons opened its throat and poured fire down on Jesse.

She dove out of the way of the flames, rolling over and into a tight ball, arms over her head. Her heart was pounding. She hadn't been trained to fight dragons. That was the kind of thing that they called in special task forces for, the kind who went in with crossbows and put hollow, sharp-tipped bolts in dragon brains. She wasn't that kind of Section X agent.

But she had to protect herself, and curling up in a ball wasn't going to cut it, so she raised her head and raised Sweetcheeks.

The green dragon had landed directly in front of her. Its jaws were wide open and she could see into the dark pit of its throat. Its mouth was ringed in sharp sets of teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

She brought up Sweetcheeks, cocking the gun and leveling it at the dragon.

"Here goes nothing," she murmured, and pulled the trigger.

Sweetcheeks exploded in her hand, a bit of warmth traveling into her palm.

The green dragon whined as the bullet went into its mouth and then penetrated the top of its palate. It crumpled in front of her.

Dead?

She didn't have a chance to check, because the other three dragons were coming for her. The other green one was on the ground, stepping over the motionless body of the other dragon. The orange and gray dragons were coming down from the air, hurtling toward her, their claws outstretched.

Jesse cocked Sweetcheeks again. She shot the dragon on the ground.

It squealed and fell down.

She sighted the orange dragon above and pulled the trigger.

Miss.

Damn it.

They were closer now. The gray dragon breathed out a ball of fire.

She leaped out of the way, and the fire hit the side of the building where her head had been. It sputtered and died in a puff of black smoke.

Jesse aimed and shot again.

This time, her bullet hit home, and the orange dragon fell out of the sky.

It was heading straight for Wyatt.

Damn, damn, damn, she needed him. She got him under his elbows, hauled him out of the way.

The orange dragon hit the ground with a sickening splat.

Wyatt moaned, pushing her away.

She let go of him.

Because the gray dragon was coming for her, breathing more fire as it grew closer and closer.

The fire caught the edge of her coat. She swore, beating it out.

Wyatt sat up, gingerly touching the back of his skull.

The gray dragon alighted in the alley, just ahead of them. Smoke poured out of its nostrils. It stalked toward them.

Jesse leveled Sweetcheeks and pulled the trigger.

The dragon stopped and fell down dead.

She let out a breath, lowering her gun. She'd used five bullets. That was close. She'd almost run out.

Wyatt looked around at the dragon carcasses. "Geez, I'm sorry. What happened?"

She knelt and holstered Sweetcheeks. "You got knocked out. The dragons went nuts. I had to kill them."

"Yeah." Wyatt looked around. "You can take care of yourself, I guess." He touched the back of his head again. "Gotta say, Jesse, I can't figure you out."

* * *

"I can't believe you took off your dampener." Connor was aghast, looking around at the dead dragons in the alley. "You know not to do that. It's the only thing that keeps the dragons from coming."

Wyatt was sliding the leather band back in place. "Yeah, yeah, I do know that."

"And what? You were trying to impress that girl?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Where is she, anyway?"

"She left," said Wyatt. "I think she was less impressed and more terrified. She did kill the dragons, though."

Connor turned in a circle, gazing at the corpses. "What are we going to do about this? Four dead dragons?"

"Well, uh, don't my parents have contacts, people they call to clean up dead dragon bodies?" The dead dragons would be cut up and sold. Vampires would want the blood. Drakes would want the meat. Mages would want the bones and teeth for talismans. There were people who did that sort of thing.

"Yes, but I don't know who they are," said Connor.

"Great," Wyatt said, grimacing. "That means we have to call my parents. They're going to be overjoyed."

"Why did you do this?"

Wyatt kicked at one of the dragon corpses. "I don't even know. Why not, I guess? What does it matter?"

Connor put his hands on his hips. "What the hell is going on with you, Wyatt?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing, my ass." Connor shook his head. "You're like a full-on disaster."

Wyatt sighed. "It's just... what's the point, you know?"

"The point of not being a disaster?"

"The point of anything," said Wyatt. "Back in Dractera, I would get up each day, and it would be tedious and hellish, but people needed me. I helped them with the dragons that were burning their crops and I saved them from the dragons that were attacking them. I was important. Now, it's just... what? What is the point of this world?"

Connor was quiet for a minute, considering. "Well, everyone feels like that sometimes."

"They do?"

"Yeah, sometimes everything seems pointless," said Connor. "I know that feeling myself."

"So, when you feel that way, what do you do?"

Connor thought about it. "Buy shoes, usually."

CHAPTER FIVE

"Wait, you want him to come along?" Duke was pacing in Jesse's room. "You want to bring this Wyatt person on a Section X mission?"

"It's the only way, trust me."

"That's not the mission," said Duke. "We had clear instructions. Come here, honey trap the bastard, get his cooperation, and then move on to acquiring the various objects."

"Well, he's not going to be honey trapped," she said. "Guy's a hero in search of a quest. He wants to do something important. We give him that, he'll do whatever we say."

"We can't compromise the mission and tell this Wyatt person classified information."

"No, I know that," said Jesse. "I'll tell him something else. I'm not exactly sure what, but it'll have to appeal to his nobility and make him feel like he's saving someone." She considered. "Maybe me. Maybe he wants to save me?" She made a puppy-dog face at Duke. "Do I look like someone you'd want to rescue?"

Duke's jaw twitched. "Could work, I guess. But Steele will hate this."

"Fine, I'll call her," said Jesse. "I'll get permission."

Duke crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't say anything.

Jesse got out her phone and dialed the secure number for Morgan Steele, who had given them the mission. Steele was high up in the ranks of Section X. She used to be a field agent, but now she worked in operations.

Jesse waited as the phone rang. She was realizing now that it was late at night, and that Steele might be asleep. Making Steele angry was probably a bad idea. She was about to hang up and tell Duke she'd call back in the morning.

But Steele answered. "Talon? That you?"

"It's me," said Jesse. "I have a question for you about Wyatt Flint."

"Flint's important," said Steele. "We can't complete the mission without his help. He's going to cooperate, isn't he?"

"I hope so," said Jesse. "He hasn't agreed yet, but—"

"Make him agree," said Steele. "I don't care how you do it, but make him agree. Any means necessary, you understand?"

"Any means at all?"

"Yes."

"Well," said Jesse, "I guess that answers my question."

"Good." Steele terminated the call.

Jesse lowered the phone. "Steele said any means necessary."

"She didn't hear what you have planned, though," said Duke. "I still say she's going to hate it."

"If it works, she won't care. Now, we just have to figure out how Wyatt can save me."

"You know that Steele doesn't like it when agents take missions into their own hands. You could get us both in hot water, Talon."

"Could, I guess," she said. "And we've never pissed Steele off before." She delivered the last bit completely dead pan.

Duke burst out laughing. "Right. Never, ever." He was sarcastic.

She winked at him. "What do you say? Live dangerously with me, Duke?"

"Damn, Talon," he sighed, shaking his head. But then he shrugged. "All right, all right. Fine. Let's try it your way."

* * *

Connor strode across the lobby of the Purple Dolphin, coffee in hand. He was starting his night again, and he hoped he wasn't going to be relegated to watching-Wyatt-at-the-bar duty again. He'd never had such a stressful night at a bar before. Bars were supposed to be fun, not work.

He'd had to call Penny and tell her about the dead dragons. They'd gotten their people in to clean up the carcasses.

Penny and Lachlan were both horrified. They questioned Wyatt in turn, wanting to know why he'd taken off his dampener. Didn't he know how dangerous it was to do so? So many people could have been hurt or killed.

Wyatt had been as surly with them as he had been with Connor. He'd come home, went into his parents' suite, and gotten a bottle of blood out of the refrigerator. He drank that and then said he needed to shift to heal his head, which had been hurt when he got knocked out.

Wyatt couldn't shift into a dragon unless he had blood. Normal dragon shifters could shift any time they wanted, but they had to be in water. Wyatt's powers were different since he was part vampire and part dragon. Shifting still healed him, however, just like it healed other dragons.

After shifting, he told everyone that he simply wanted to go to bed, and his parents didn't argue.

Connor stayed up the rest of the night talking with Penny and Lachlan, who were both very worried and didn't seem to know what to do. Connor didn't know what to tell them either.

There was drama at the Dolphin a lot, but this drama seemed worse than usual, and Connor hated it.

He set himself up at the front desk and resolved to drink his coffee and watch some television and relax as best he could. Thinking through it over and over again wasn't going to solve anything.

But then, outside the hotel, Connor saw that Jesse girl. She was walking by the front window, probably heading around the hotel to the back, to Wyatt's door.

Oh, no, she didn't. Connor didn't know who that girl was, but she seemed to have started all of this.

Connor darted out of the hotel and yelled after her, "Hey!"

She glanced over her shoulder at him but didn't stop moving.

Connor caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"Coming to see Wyatt," she said.

"Maybe you shouldn't."

"What?" She sounded both amused and annoyed at the same time.

"It's just that I'm not sure you're very good for Wyatt," said Connor.

"Are you his babysitter?"

"I used to be," said Wyatt. "And then he disappeared into another dimension for two months and came out twenty years older. Everything's weird."

She gave him a strange look. "Half of the time, neither you nor Wyatt make any sense." She shook him off and continued walking around the hotel.

Connor considered calling after her again. But she seemed pretty determined to see Wyatt. Connor wasn't going to be able to stop her. Maybe, instead, he'd just try to get an idea of what she was up to.

He followed her.

He watched her knock on the sliding door to Wyatt's suite.

Wyatt let her inside.

Connor crept over to the door. He stood outside and listened. He was a gargoyle, and temperature didn't bother him the same as other people, so he didn't feel cold as he waited there. From his position, he could see Jesse and Wyatt standing next to the couch in Wyatt's suite, but because of the long blinds over the sliding door, they couldn't see Connor. He could hear them too.

"I came to apologize to you," Jesse was saying. "I thought maybe I owed you that before I leave."

"What are you talking about? You're leaving?" came Wyatt's voice.

"I am," said Jesse. "Tonight. Probably before dawn. I wanted to apologize for the way I've been behaving. I know you think I wanted something from you... well, I don't know, maybe I did."

"What?" said Wyatt.

"I wanted a distraction, I guess." She let out a little laugh, sounding helpless. "I saw you in the bar, and I, um, I liked the way you looked. I talked to you, and I liked the way you talked. I guess I threw myself at you because I needed some kind of escape. But now, seeing who you are, the dragons and everything, you're just as screwed up as me."

"Escape from what?"

Connor wasn't sure what he thought about what Jesse had just said. He didn't know the girl well enough to know if she was a liar or not, but he didn't think he liked her, and he got a bad feeling about all of this. Like Jesse did want something from Wyatt. And maybe Wyatt shouldn't give it to her. Maybe that would be pretty dangerous.

"Oh, hell, Wyatt, it's a long story." She touched her forehead and moved so that Connor couldn't quite make out her face. Her voice was clear, though. "You know about vampire gangs getting people to sign blood contracts?"

"Sure," said Wyatt. "I've heard of that. It's a bad deal for the humans. They might get their debts paid off, but they become the vampire's slaves."

"Exactly," said Jesse. "Well, my sister signed a blood contract. With a very old, very powerful vampire gang. They have all kinds of reach. And they're not about to let her go. But I can't leave her there. She's my sister, you know?"

"Where is she?" Wyatt sounded keenly interested in this.

Oh, geez. This Jesse girl was bad news. The last thing that Wyatt needed to do was get tangled up with bad vampires. Connor had fought vampires a time or two himself. If Jesse needed help, it would be better to go to Penny, leave Wyatt out of it.

"I don't know," said Jesse. "I went to the vampires to try to get her free, and they gave me this crazy job to do. I have to find a power-enhancing potion, plus some crystals in order to do the extraction ritual, and I also need a special magical container. But once I get those things, they'll trade them for Amy."

"Amy's your sister?"

"Yeah," said Jesse. "The vampires are sending me out tomorrow to start gathering the materials. These last few nights, all I wanted was to drown everything out, because this is a dangerous thing I'm about to do, and I'm probably going to fail, but I have to try."

"Wow," said Wyatt. "That's... that's intense."

"Anyway, I respect you," said Jesse. "I wanted you to know why I came on so strong. And I didn't simply want to disappear. I wanted to say goodbye to you. That blood dragon thing you have going on, I hope it works out."

"There's nothing to work out," said Wyatt.

"Well, maybe something will work out anyway," she said. "Whatever the case, I'm glad I got to meet you." She leaned close and kissed him, a quick peck on the lips. "Goodbye, Wyatt Flint."

Wyatt furrowed his brow.

She hesitated for a minute, then bobbed her head and went for the door.

Connor scurried out of the way, fading into the shadows so that she wouldn't see him.

She stepped out of the sliding door into the cold air outside. She walked straight past Connor, who held his breath. Was she really just going to leave? Great. Connor was glad. He was sorry this girl had problems, but he was happy that she wouldn't be causing any for Wyatt. Wyatt had enough to deal with.

But then Wyatt burst out of the door. "Wait!"

Damn it, thought Connor.

Jesse stopped and turned around.

Wyatt hurried over to her. "Wait, Jesse. Are you doing this alone?"

"Well, Amy's boyfriend is helping me," said Jesse. "He's a drake. His name is Duke. But, yeah, it's just the two of us."

"You should let me come with you," said Wyatt. "Let me help you out. I could be helpful."

Jesse chewed on her lip. "Like, with your blood dragon powers?"

"Exactly," said Wyatt.

Connor didn't like this. Why did it seem as if Wyatt was playing right into Jesse's hands? Had she planned this? But why? If she wanted Wyatt's help, why not just come out and ask? Why try to trick him into it? No, maybe Connor was being overly suspicious.

"Well," said Jesse, "being able to call dragons could come in useful sometimes, I guess."

"That's not all I can do," said Wyatt. "I'm like other dragons. I can shift. I can breathe fire."

She smiled at him. "Good to know."

"So, can I come?"

"You can come."

Wyatt smiled too, and it hurt Connor's heart, because it was the same smile that used to break across Wyatt's toddler face. But Wyatt smiled easy back then. He didn't smile anymore. Connor didn't think he'd seen Wyatt smile since he came back from Dractera.

"But wait," Wyatt was saying. "You're leaving now, right? Before dawn?"

"That's right," she said. "I know it's short notice, but—"

"No, it's fine," said Wyatt. "I can be ready. Give me... a half hour? An hour?"

"How about you meet me outside my hotel," she said. "We'll leave by sunup. If you're there, great. If not, if you change your mind, I understand."

"I'll be there," said Wyatt.

* * *

"You can't go anywhere," Lachlan Flint's voice was quiet, but he was firm. "We've barely been back in our world for a month. You're not ready."

Connor was standing outside Wyatt's suite. He probably needed to be giving the family privacy, but he couldn't help himself. He'd gone and gotten Penny and Lachlan immediately upon hearing Jesse's and Wyatt's plans. He wasn't going to let Wyatt sneak out in the middle of the night. His parents deserved better than that.

Wyatt was moving around in the suite, packing things. Connor saw flashes of him as he moved in front of the door of the suite. "It's funny how you think you can tell me what to do," Wyatt said.

"Wyatt, we're your parents," said Penny. "That's what we do."

"Yeah, okay," said Wyatt. "When we were in Dractera, I was practically ruling the place, and now that we're back here—"

"We're not in Dractera anymore," said Lachlan. "This is our world, and it's a complicated one. We're not saying that you're not an adult, but we are saying that you're not experienced enough to be out on your own."

"The alternative is staying here and playing video games and getting drunk," said Wyatt.

"No, it's not," said Penny. "You could go to school. You could make friends. You could get a job."

Wyatt didn't answer.

"Listen, Wyatt," said Lachlan, "is it about this girl? Your mother said she was pretty."

"She's in trouble," Wyatt said in a withering tone. "She needs help. It's not... like that."

"Listen, you don't know about girls in this world," said Lachlan. "They're different than girls in Dractera."

"No shit," said Wyatt. He stopped moving in front of the door, his back to Connor, facing his parents. "Look, this isn't a conversation, and I'm not asking permission. I'm going with her, and I'm going to help her save her sister. I need something meaningful to do, okay?"

"If you want to help people, there are people in Sea City who need help," said Penny.

"I'm going," said Wyatt. "You're not going to talk me out of it. Now, I think we should stop wasting whatever time left I have and say goodbye properly."

"You think we can't stop you?" said Penny, hands on her hips. "I'm a dragon, and your father is a vampire, and we have a blood bond. So, if it's about who's more powerful than who—"

"You'd do that?" Wyatt said. "Keep me here by force? When does that end? You going to keep me locked up for the rest of my life?"

"Wyatt, we're not going to lock you up," said Lachlan.

"We will if we have to," said Penny.

"Penny," said Lachlan in a quiet voice.

Wyatt turned around and fixed Connor with a stare. "You."

Connor ducked out of sight. Damn it. He really shouldn't be eavesdropping.

"Connor," said Wyatt, "you screwed this up. I was going to tell them. I had a plan for telling them, and you just can't stop meddling in everything."

Connor stepped into the suite. "I'm sorry," he said, and he did feel sorry. He was confused, because his allegiances had always lain with Penny in any kind of dispute. But watching Wyatt argue with his parents, it was making Connor identify with the guy.

Connor remembered arguments he'd had with his mother and aunts when he came out of the closet to them. He'd hoped they'd be supportive, but they weren't. They lay down ultimatums instead. Connor would step up and fulfill his purpose of fathering more gargoyle babies on gargoyle women or he had to leave. So, Connor had left.

Because his parents had been stuffing down who Connor was, and now Wyatt... well, it wasn't the same thing, but there was something going on with Wyatt, and the idea of going with Jesse had made him smile. And Connor didn't know what that meant, but it meant something.

"I'll go too," said Connor.

Everyone looked at Connor, all of them with their eyebrows raised.

"I can look after him," said Connor. "I know about things in this world, even if he doesn't, and if something seems hinky, I can warn him." And there was something strange about that Jesse girl, anyway. Wyatt shouldn't go alone.

"She didn't offer for you to come," said Wyatt.

"She didn't offer for you either," said Connor. "But you begged, and she agreed."

"This could be dangerous, Connor," said Wyatt.

"I've fought vampires before," said Connor. "And crazed drakes too. And let's not forget that I was fighting the children of the deep right there with your mother and father."

"Right," said Wyatt. "You guys all fought my battles for me, and now I have nothing to do at all. Thanks for that." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Wyatt!" Penny was horrified. "We did that for you. We didn't want you to live a life of violence and fear."

"Maybe I was built for violence and fear, Mom," said Wyatt. "Maybe it's all I'm good at. Maybe without it..." He shook his head.

"He's going to find a way to go," said Connor. "But I'll go with him. It'll be better that way, won't it?"

"No," said Penny. "No, I don't want him to leave."

Everyone was quiet.

Finally, Wyatt went to his mother and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Penny hugged him back. "I don't like this." She looked over Wyatt's shoulder at Connor. "You watch him like a hawk, you understand?"

Connor nodded. "I will."

CHAPTER SIX

Jesse leaned against the trunk of a car, toying with Sweetcheeks. She rolled the cylinder and touched each of the bullets, then closed the gun and mimed shooting with it.

"You should put that away," said Duke. He was coming across the parking lot with a bag slung over his shoulder. "Someone's going to see you and freak out."

"It's not as if we don't have concealed carry licenses," said Jesse.

"Right," said Duke. "So, conceal it."

Jesse huffed, but put the gun back in her ankle holster.

"You're in a good mood for someone who seems to have utterly failed at her mission."

"What?" She stood up straight, folding her arms over her chest. "When have you ever known me to utterly fail?"

"Where's Wyatt Flint?"

"Oh," she said, leaning back into the car. "He's coming."

"When?"

"By 4:00, he'll be here," she said. "He said he would."

"You just left him?"

"It was better that way," she said. "This way, he feels like he has to prove himself. It'll make him more likely to do whatever I ask him to do."

"How does it make him have to prove himself?"

"Well, if I made it easy for him to come along, he'd think that he was sailing in to be the hero right off. This way, I've told him that I can do the job without him. He wants to be needed. He's got a big empty space inside, and he needs a reason to exist. I'm going to be that reason."

Duke smirked. "You're a little devious, Talon."

She shrugged. "I do what I have to in order to get the job done."

"But you know, I don't see him here."

"Wait," she said.

"Fine."

They waited.

Eventually, she got out her phone and started flipping through her apps.

She played some candy game for a while, then got sick of it.

It had been a while, hadn't it?

Duke was watching the sky. His voice was soft. "You know, if he doesn't show up, then you haven't secured his help, and Steele will not be pleased."

"He'll be here," said Jesse.

* * *

Connor had never packed for going on a dangerous mission before. All his dangerous missions had been day trips.

Well, there was the time that they'd gone to fight the children of the deep in Corpus Christi, Texas, but that had been different. That time, he'd just packed as if he was going on a beach vacation. He'd told himself that part of his job on that mission was to keep things light. Because even though they all could have died, he knew that thinking about dying didn't help anyone, ever.

This was different.

Typically, Connor didn't wear a lot of clothes, mostly because he didn't feel temperature the way humans did, since he was made of living stone. But he knew that he was going to need to look presentable if Jesse and this Duke person were going to accept him, so he brought jeans and shirts and socks and shoes.

He didn't know how long they'd be gone, so he brought a lot. And then most of the stuff didn't fit in his suitcase, so he had to take things out.

While he was doing all this, Wyatt was pacing in the living room of his apartment, claiming that they were going to be late. And Jesse had made it clear she would leave without Wyatt if he didn't show.

So, the packing was a rush job. Connor was pretty sure he was going to regret all his clothing choices, but they were running out of time, so he got his suitcase closed, and they left.

Jesse had told them to meet in the parking lot of one of the big hotels up in the northern part of Sea City. They pulled into the parking lot, and at first, they didn't see her, but then they did.

She was leaning against the trunk of a car, and she looked different than she had before. It was something in her expression, a toughness that Connor hadn't noticed before. This Jesse person wasn't as needy as she pretended to be. Connor was going to have to keep an eye on her.

They got out of the cab they'd hired to take them up here, and Wyatt paid the driver. Then they made their way over to Jesse.

A man came out from behind the car. A beautiful man. Well, okay, a drake, Connor realized. But Connor had never seen a drake look so drop dead gorgeous before. This guy had massive shoulders. His skin was dark against the night sky, and he moved like a cat, all lethal grace.

Connor had to fight his reaction down. Typically, he'd make a big thing out of seeing an attractive man. Stake out his identity loud and clear. I am a very gay man, his behavior would proclaim. But he didn't this time. He gaped at the hot drake, and then he tore his gaze away.

Jesse stalked over to them. "What's the gargoyle doing here?"

"I'm here to make sure everything's on the up and up," said Connor, turning to face her, hardening his expression.

"He really is your babysitter, isn't he?" said Jesse.

"Look, if you want Wyatt here, you take me too," said Connor.

"Connor, come on," said Wyatt. "She doesn't have to take anyone anywhere."

"Okay, fine," said the drake, his voice a rich baritone. "Package deal, I see." He offered Connor his hand. "I'm Duke."

Connor slipped his hand against the drake's warm skin and his mouth felt dry. "Connor," he managed.

Duke held Connor's gaze with his green, reptilian eyes, which were unsettling and yet beautiful, and he nodded at Connor's bag. "Let me get that for you."

"Thanks," said Connor, handing it over. Okay, wait a second. Was this Duke guy flirting with him or was he imagining things? You're imagining things, he said to himself. Guy was obviously just being polite.

Connor grimaced internally. For a homosexual man, he had terrible gaydar. Maybe it was because it was so much more important to him to get it right. Or maybe sometimes it was crowded out by wishful thinking. It would be so great if this very beautiful man with the thick, powerful fingers, the one who oozed masculinity, was someone who might be interested in Connor.

But the odds were against that.

Anyway, Jesse had said that Duke was her sister's boyfriend, so there was that. He was straight. End of story.

Duke opened the trunk and put Connor's suitcase inside. He turned back to Wyatt. "And you. Wyatt Flint."

Connor couldn't be sure, but he thought there had been a hint of warmth in Duke's voice when the drake had spoken to Connor. But now, his voice was cold and emotionless.

Maybe he was flirting with me. Connor's heart skipped a little. Stop thinking about it, he scolded himself.

"That's me," said Wyatt. "I guess Jesse told you about me."

"Oh, yeah, I know all about you," said Duke, his voice still chilly. "Welcome aboard." He turned back to the trunk and slammed it shut. "Let's get moving, all."

"Um, Duke?" said Jesse.

"What?" Duke didn't bother looking at her. He was heading for the driver's seat.

"Open the trunk for Wyatt's bag," said Jesse.

"Oh, did I forget that?" said Duke, turning back around. He hit a button on the keyring and the trunk popped open. He stalked back to Wyatt and reached out for the bag.

"I got it," said Wyatt, moving past him. The two men kept their eyes on each other as Wyatt sidestepped close enough to deposit his own bag into the trunk.

Duke shut the trunk, and they were still staring at each other.

Jesse cleared her throat. "Okay, um, well, we're good now."

Duke broke the gaze to look at her. "If you say so."

* * *

Jesse was at the ice machine in yet another hotel. She lived her life in hotels. When she wasn't in a hotel, she was sleeping in the nondescript rooms in Section X, which were almost worse.

Sometimes, every once in a while, she'd get an extended assignment with her own apartment someplace, posing as a college student or a secretary or something. That was the best. She could pretend, sometimes for hours at a time, that she lived like other people did.

Duke towered over her, leaning against the ice machine, one hand in his pocket. "When you going to tell Steele that we've got double the people she expected on this mission?"

"I don't know," said Jesse. "Soon." The ice bucket was full, but she was pretending it wasn't, because it gave her and Duke an excuse to be huddled here, talking. They couldn't talk in the hotel room, because of too many prying ears. "I guess I figured she would have gotten you and me separate rooms again, like in Sea City. And I only thought it would be Wyatt with us, not that gargoyle."

"So, you were going to have Flint bunk with you, then." Duke studied his fingernails. "I thought you changed your perimeters with him. Thought it wasn't a seduction."

"Honestly, I didn't think that through," she said.

Duke didn't say anything.

She glanced up at him. "He'll have to sleep with you tonight."

Duke's upper lip curled.

"What? There are two queen beds in the room. It's the only thing that makes sense. The gargoyle won't sleep, I don't guess." Connor had been stone for most of the trip. Once the sun had come up, he'd turned into a statue in the back seat of the car. He'd only recently woken up when the sun went down again.

"You need to tell Steele what you did," said Duke. "You've gone off script. She's gonna want to know."

Jesse knew he was right. "Okay, well, I'll call her now."

"You don't have time," said Duke. "You need to get ready. The meet-up is in an hour and a half."

"Damn it." She pulled the full ice bucket out of the machine.

"What are we planning to do with our extra guests during the meet-up, incidentally?" Duke raised his glittering eyebrows.

"Uh..."

"I guess I'm supposed to watch them?"

"I'll take Wyatt," she said. "He can come along. You just hang out with the gargoyle."

"You're taking Flint."

"You don't approve?"

"He's got no training, Talon. You have no idea what he might do. He's a wild card."

"I can keep him under control. He'll need something to do, anyway. Wouldn't sit tight with you. He'd probably drive you crazy if I didn't take him. You'd want to murder him."

"With knives," Duke said dryly.

She knitted her brows together. "You don't like Wyatt."

"I don't know him," said Duke. He pushed off the ice machine and loped down the hallway toward their room.

Jesse followed him.

Back in the room, Connor was sprawled out on one of the beds, flipping through channels. Wyatt was across the room, looking out the window into the darkness.

"Hey," chirped Connor. "You two were gone for a long time 'getting ice.'"

Duke sat down on the foot of the bed where Connor was sitting. "Machine was broken," he said. "I had to fix it."

Wyatt turned from the window. "Well, aren't you a skilled one?"

Jesse headed for her suitcase. She began sorting through it. She had several different kinds of clothes with her. She needed something to go clubbing in. She found a short, tight dress and a small jacket to go over it. She unrolled a pair of thigh-high boots. "Where's your bag, Wyatt?"

"Hmm?" said Wyatt.

"You're coming in with me tonight," she said. "You can't wear what you're wearing. Let me see what you've got."

"Where are you guys going?" said Connor. "What are you wearing?" He climbed off the bed and pulled her dress out of her arms.

"Hey," said Jesse, glaring at him.

"Huh," said Connor. He tossed the dress back at Jesse. "You'll probably need to borrow something from me, Wyatt."

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Okay, I'm in," said Duke, who was sitting on one of the beds in the hotel room, laptop and various other electronics spread out in front of him.

Connor was perched behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen, which displayed a sidewalk outside of a club. The club was located in the basement under a several-story-high building. It had a neon sign with a blinking arrow pointing down its steps.

"Locked into the outdoor security cameras," Duke said. "I can see you."

"Copy that," came Jesse's voice from the laptop. She and Wyatt were wired up with small ear pieces that allowed them to communicate with Duke at all times. Connor could see them on the laptop screen from overhead. Jesse was in her tiny little dress and very tall boots. She was baring a lot of skin, even though it was pretty cold outside. But then, so was Wyatt, who Connor had dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a leather jacket with nothing underneath. Wyatt looked good, if Connor didn't say so himself. He was pretty proud of the costume, if you'd call it that.

He wasn't clear on exactly what they were doing at this club, and he was pretty confused about the level of tech that Duke and Jesse had. When he asked about it, they said it had been given to them by the vampire gang who was holding Amy.

Connor found that weird. What vampire gang handed over really expensive equipment to people who were trying to break a girl out of a blood contract? What kind of vampire gang even had that stuff? Really rich, powerful vamps tended to be ancient, and they tended not to know a damned thing about how to use a computer, let alone have tiny wireless ear pieces.

When he'd voiced those thoughts, Duke and Jesse had just said that the vampire gang really, really wanted the objects they were going to bring them.

But Connor didn't buy it. Something else was going on here, and he was going to figure out what it was. It was a good thing that Wyatt had him along for the ride. Otherwise, who knows what these two would have done to him. Connor was going to make sure Wyatt was safe as houses.

"Stand by," said Duke, fingers flying over the laptop's keyboard. "I'm working on getting inside the security cameras in the club."

On screen, Jesse turned to Wyatt and gave him a coquettish smile, leaning close. Her voice came through the laptop. "We'll just stand here and pretend to be talking, okay?"

Connor rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," came Wyatt's voice.

"Got it," said Duke. "I've got access to the club's cameras. You two can go on in."

Jesse and Wyatt moved down the steps into the club, out of range of the street cameras.

Duke struck a few keys and then the image on the screen shifted to that of inside the club. Jesse and Wyatt came through the doors and stopped to talk to the doorman. He told them the cover charge. They handed it over. Then they were inside.

The club was dimly lit. Pulsing music was coming through the laptop speakers, tinny and strange. There were colored strobe lights, and the dance floor was crowded. Hanging in corners were cages containing dancing girls. Some looked human. Others were drakes or even vampires, baring their fangs. All of the cage girls were scantily clad.

Duke adjusted something on the laptop and the music from the club lowered. "Test one, echo back?"

"Copy that," said Jesse's voice, clear as a bell.

Well. Those were some ear pieces, Connor thought.

"ETA?" said Jesse.

"Sixteen minutes until the meeting," Duke replied. "I've got my eyes open. If I see our contacts, I'll let you know. Until then, get a drink and blend."

"Got it," said Jesse.

* * *

Jesse sipped at her drink and leaned against the table in the corner of the club. It was a tall table. It came up to her chest. There were tall stools next to the table, but she didn't fancy the idea of crawling up into one in the boots she was wearing, so she stayed on the floor.

Wyatt leaned against the other side of the table, looking around at the place, lips parted. He'd obviously never seen anything like it.

"I guess they don't have places like this where you grew up," she said to him.

"Not exactly, no," said Wyatt.

"Well, close your mouth, all right?" she said. "Pretend you're not impressed."

"Sorry." Wyatt looked down at the table, chastened.

She wanted to reassure him, but she didn't. It was better if he felt a little off-kilter. He needed to prove himself, after all.

"Hey, Jesse, what exactly are we doing here?"

"It's a meeting," she said.

"Yeah, I got that. With who? Why?"

But before she could answer, Duke's voice was in her ear. "Hey, ten o'clock. I think those are our guys."

She turned to look where he was directing her. Two men with dark glasses, in black t-shirts and jeans. She rolled her eyes. No one had apparently given them the memo to blend in. They looked like bouncers. "How do you know it's them?"

"One of them is holding a green drink," said Duke. "That's the signal."

She saw it now, a bright, almost day-glo, drink in the man's hand. It obviously reacted with the black lights in the club. "Okay, we're going in." She nodded at Wyatt. "Let me do the talking, okay, Wyatt?"

Wyatt nodded once.

She started across the club for the men, not waiting to see if Wyatt was coming along. But he fell into step beside her, and she was glad to see that he was carrying himself with confidence, not staring up at the lights like a tourist.

The men were at a table in the middle of the floor.

She stepped up to the table and leaned in close. She had to speak loudly to be heard over the music. "Come here often?"

"Only in the winter," said one of the men. "What about you?"

"We like to drop by after skiing," she said.

The men nodded.

She nodded back.

The entire exchanged had been scripted. Pre-agreed upon, although she didn't see what the big deal was, considering no one around them could hear them well enough to understand what they were saying anyway.

"Come with us," said one of the men.

She and Wyatt followed the men through the club, down another staircase to an even lower level. They wound down a hallway and into a room that was set up like a lounge. It was dimly lit, like the club, and there was a checkered floor and a wraparound plush couch. On the wall, there was a big aquarium full of tropical fish.

It was quieter here.

One of the men gestured for them to sit on the couch.

Jesse did. Wyatt hesitated, looking the men over, searching the walls and taking everything in. His gaze settled on the only door, and then he sat down.

Checking the exits, Jesse noted. Wyatt was more capable than he appeared, and she kept forgetting that. He was on the defensive, and that awareness was a good thing.

One of the men sat down on the couch. "I'm Cy. My partner's Bix."

"Talon," said Jesse. She gestured to Wyatt. "Flint."

Bix was at the door. He opened it and a woman in a short skirt and fishnet stockings came in. "Amelia will get you drinks."

"We're fine, thanks," said Jesse. "Let's get down to business."

Cy chuckled. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

Jesse grimaced inwardly. She hated it when men she didn't know used terms of endearment, but she couldn't stop them from doing it, and she wasn't about to blow the deal, so she didn't let her annoyance show. "I've been authorized to wire two million into your accounts by my employers. All I need is to see the product first. If it's acceptable, you'll have the money right away."

Amelia was bent over a mini-fridge in the corner, her ass in the air. Bix gazed at it appreciatively. "Two million, huh? You walk around with that much in your pockets?"

"Can't see a place for you to be carrying anything, sweetheart," said Cy, looking over her tight dress.

Jesse just smiled. "Jokers. I'm sure you heard me say I'd have it wired."

"You sure you don't want a drink?" said Bix. Amelia had straightened now and was handing him a bottle of beer. "What have we got, Amelia?"

"Beer, wine, blood," said Amelia. "I could have a cocktail brought down from the bar."

"You might as well relax, after all," said Cy, winking at her.

"Look," said Wyatt in a low voice. "Maybe we could move this along."

Bix laughed. "This your boyfriend, Talon?"

"No," said Jesse, shooting him a sideways glance. She'd told him to stay quiet. Damn it, Wyatt, don't make me regret bringing you in here. "I don't have a boyfriend. Don't like to be tied down."

"How about tied up?" Bix chortled.

Jesse forced herself to laugh. "You really are jokers, aren't you?"

Cy leaned back against the couch and let his fingers crawl over the cushion there. "How bad you want what we're selling, sweetheart?"

Jesse was starting to get annoyed. "I thought the agreement was two million."

"Yeah, well, we didn't know we were going to be haggling with such a pretty girl," said Cy. "Maybe there's something we could work out." He winked at her again. "That dress doesn't look very comfortable."

"Yeah," agreed Bix. "Maybe you want to slip out of it."

"Or maybe," said Wyatt in a low voice, "we get back on track here."

"Come on, Flint," said Bix. "You're not her boyfriend, but you wouldn't mind a look, would you?"

Wyatt's nostrils flared.

She turned to Wyatt. "Maybe you wait for me outside. I can finish up here."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you planning to do?"

Damn it, she had this handled. She turned to Cy. "If the money isn't enough, I'd need time to renegotiate with my employer."

Cy laughed. "Sweetheart, you know we aren't talking about money here."

Wyatt was on his feet. "I'll take that drink after all."

"Certainly, sir," said Amelia. "What will it be?"

"You mentioned blood?" said Wyatt.

"You're a vampire?" said Cy, arching an eyebrow.

"Something like that," said Wyatt.

What the hell? He drank blood? Jesse didn't know about this. There was so much she didn't know about Wyatt Flint. Too much. "Look, get your blood, and wait outside," she said to him. "This won't take long."

Amelia handed Wyatt a glass of red liquid.

"Yeah, leave us with Talon here," said Cy. "But it might actually be a while."

Wyatt downed the blood in one long drink. He slammed the empty container down on the shelf next to the aquarium. His mouth opened, and fire came out of it.

But it wasn't fire like Jesse had ever seen. It didn't look real. It was bright cherry red and hot. She could feel the heat in the air from where she was sitting on the couch.

The fire licked at Cy's face and then dissipated in the air.

Amelia shrieked.

Cy yelped, getting to his feet. He put his fingers against his nose. "Fuck."

Wyatt's voice was even. "Let's get back on track, shall we?"

"What the hell?" said Bix, who was visibly shaken. "You're not a vampire."

"Back," said Wyatt, "on track."

Jesse cleared her throat, gathering herself. "Yes, where's the product?"

"Look, fine, it's here," said Cy. His hands were trembling as he took a small blue glass bottle off the end table near the couch.

"Let me see," said Jesse.

He handed over the bottle.

She unstoppered it and inhaled. Yes, Steele had told her it would smell of lilacs. This was it. She nodded. "All right, then. Two million, as agreed."

Cy and Bix both nodded quickly.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Connor inserted himself between Wyatt and Duke. "Maybe you two should both calm down." Back here, in the hotel room, they'd been cut off from video when Wyatt and Jesse had gone with the men to the lower level of the club, but they'd been able to hear everything.

Duke had spent most of the conversation trying to find the right security cameras to hack, but he hadn't figured it out. When Duke heard the change in the men's tone over the speakers, though, he hadn't been pleased.

Duke, Connor was coming to understand, wasn't one for obvious anger. Duke got angry, but it was a quiet, cold anger.

Right then, in the hotel room, the anger was coming off Duke like gusts of icy wind.

"Look, maybe you don't know this about Jesse," Wyatt was saying, "but she's crazy desperate to save her sister. She would have done whatever those men wanted."

"I wouldn't have," Jesse was saying. She had Duke by the arm and was trying to restrain him. "I had that under control, Wyatt. I told you not to say anything."

Duke folded his arms over his chest. He was an ice sculpture. "You don't go off script, Flint. You never go off script." His voice was controlled, but there was fury in it.

"I didn't even have a script," said Wyatt. "I was supposed to shut up." He peered around Duke to catch Jesse's eye. "Lie to him if you want, but I know. And I wasn't going to sit there and watch that. And I sure as hell wasn't going to wait in the hallway, not when I could spare you that."

"Don't ever go off script again," said Duke.

"Duke," said Jesse, tugging on him.

Duke shook her off.

"Wyatt," said Connor, "maybe you should just apologize."

"Like hell," said Wyatt, glaring at Duke. "That what you want for her? Your girlfriend is a blood whore to vampires, you want her sister to have to—"

"I wasn't going to do anything," said Jesse. "It was all bluster from them."

"No, it wasn't," said Wyatt. "They were scum."

"Talon can handle herself," said Duke.

"Talon?" said Connor. "You call her Talon? Your girlfriend's sister is Talon?"

Duke's nostrils flared, and he lifted both of his hands up in the air in surrender. "Fuck this," he growled. He hurled himself across the room and out of the door of the hotel room.

Jesse dragged her hands over her face.

Connor crossed his arms. "I'm beginning to feel like there's something you're not telling us, Jesse."

Jesse sat down on the bed.

Wyatt sat down next to her. "Look, I know you want to save your sister, but there are some lines you shouldn't cross."

Jesse glared at him. "Stop it. Don't be that guy to me. I'm not... you don't have to save me. You are not my knight in shining armor."

Wyatt blew out a long, slow breath.

"Why does he call you by your last name?" said Connor.

"Maybe you need saved," said Wyatt. "Maybe you don't realize it, but—"

"No," said Jesse. She got up off the bed.

"You're just going to ignore me?" said Connor.

Jesse turned on the gargoyle. "I don't know why Duke does that, okay? He calls me Talon, fine. I go with it. With Duke, you go with it."

Connor had to admit that was probably good advice for dealing with Duke.

Jesse wrapped her arms around her stomach. "And what was that with the blood?"

"I'm the blood dragon," said Wyatt. "I'm not like other dragons. If I want to breathe fire or shift or do any kind of magic, I need blood."

"Oh," she said. "But that fire you breathed, it wasn't like any fire I've ever seen before."

Wyatt shrugged. "I told you I'm one of a kind."

"Right," she said. She sighed. "Listen, whatever happened, we got what we were after, so this was a success. That's what we need to focus on. We need to get some rest and keep moving. There's more to do."

* * *

Jesse couldn't get back to sleep. She kept tossing and turning, and she was glad that she had the bed to herself after all, because she would have kept anyone trying to sleep next to her awake. In the other bed, she could see that both Duke and Wyatt were asleep. They were both on the edges of the bed, their backs to each other, a wide expanse of the bed between them. It didn't look comfortable, but they were both dead to the world.

The gargoyle was awake, of course. He was on the other side of the room, looking out the window.

It was only a few hours until dawn. They'd get moving early.

Jesse needed to sleep.

But she'd slipped into a restless sleep earlier, and she'd had the dream. She had it sometimes, although not as often as she used to. It was an awful dream, not so much for what happened in the dream itself but for what she remembered happening after. Because it wasn't so much a dream as it was a memory.

It was maddening, because every time she dreamed it, she had a niggling sensation, like something breathing on her neck, telling her that this was all a bad idea. But she always ignored it and pressed on.

She would dream of being in her bedroom back home, years ago. She could hear the sounds of the television in the living room, where her parents were watching some stupid game show. She could hear the sound of her brother's music from his room. In the dream, she only wanted to drown out all that sound, and she had put on her earbuds and cranked her own music while she set everything up.

Candles clustered over specifically drawn symbols on her bedroom floor. She lit each and every wick, bobbing her head to her music.

She'd thought it was cool and transgressive. She'd thought that trying this would take her to the next level.

Actually, it had. Just not the way she'd expected.

In the dream, she would sit down amongst all the candles, and there would be a moment, a hesitation, a time when it seemed it could all stop. She could blow out the candles and clean up the symbols and never go any further.

And then...

She woke up.

Now, Jesse lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling in the hotel room. She hadn't started messing with magic on a whim, like some of the girls in her class in high school. She always thought of them as posers, the guys and girls who'd hang out in the corners of the lunchroom, wearing all black, doing their best to translate Latin spells. Most of them never stumbled onto any real magic. They were lucky to even get talismans that actually worked.

You could buy cheap talismans on eBay, but they were usually mostly drained. Talismans lasted a long time, but they had their limits. Eventually, even a very strong talisman would be emptied of magic. Usually, whatever mage was using it discarded it at that point.

But that didn't stop people who wanted to make a quick buck from getting those discarded talismans and reselling them to stupid high school students.

Jesse wasn't like them. She'd gotten interested in magic because her grandmother practiced. Her grandmother had been very old when she died, although she hadn't looked much older than forty. Her grandmother used spells to keep herself from aging. She'd had an exciting life, and she used to tell Jesse stories about New York City in the 1800s or about helping to run moonshine in the 1920s.

Her grandmother had worked with a vampire gang, and she'd told Jesse that she kept them in line with the threat of Sweetcheeks.

Sweetcheeks was her grandmother's gun.

Upon her grandmother's death—which had been sudden, a fatal fall down the stairs, the kind of thing magic can't prevent—Jesse had inherited Sweetcheeks. The gun's handle was inlaid with dragon bone, and it was a talisman in and of itself. Jesse used the gun to power her own spells, which she did in secret, since her parents didn't approve.

Apparently, Jesse had a knack for it.

What she'd done that night, with that spell that she regretted, had gotten the attention of Section X. They'd recruited her, even though she'd barely been sixteen, and thus had begun her career as a secret agent. These days, it was all Jesse knew.

Working as an agent had taught her to conceal her emotions, but not to eradicate them. When she had that dream, it hurt. It hurt a lot. She gazed at the ceiling and wished the hurt would stop.

CHAPTER NINE

"Wait, you did what?" came Steele's voice over the phone.

"The mission was to secure his cooperation," said Jesse. It was dawn. She hadn't been able to get back to sleep, so eventually, she'd just gotten up. Now, she was outside the hotel, sipping hot coffee in the cold winter morning, talking to Steele. "He's cooperating."

"Talon, really, you have a tendency to think the rules are optional, but this is insanity. You created your own cover story? You know we have entire teams trained to do that here?"

"You know me," Jesse said dryly. "Insanity is my middle name."

Steele sighed heavily.

"It's not a bad thing," Jesse protested. "He wants to help. He's on a hero kick. Once I got to know him, I realized it was the best way to get him to help us."

"Yes, but you didn't tell him we needed his help," said Steele. "You didn't tell him he was important."

"He was supposed to think he was important? Because you conveniently left that out of the mission instructions."

"It may cause problems later," said Steele. "It's going to conflict with your cover story. And there's not going to be any way you can produce this sister you've made up, let alone these vampires you're working for."

"I..." Jesse drank her coffee. Great. Steele wasn't pleased. Duke had warned Jesse that Steele wouldn't be pleased, but Jesse had gone on and done it anyway. Which, you know, was the normal way of things, but it didn't make it suck any less.

"Well, what's done is done," said Steele. "No point crying over spilled milk. I wish you would have run this by me before acting on it, however. I'll put our best on it. We'll find a way to make it work. Do not embellish the story. I will tell you what to tell him and when to tell him. Understood?"

"Understood," said Jesse.

"You said that the power enhancer has been acquired."

"Yes," said Jesse.

"And that went smoothly?"

Jesse hesitated. "Yes."

"Don't lie to me, Agent Talon." A sharpness in Steele's tone.

"It all went fine. It was only that Wyatt may have gotten a little threatening. He breathed fire—which, you know, you might have warned me what he was before we started this. I had no idea what he could do."

"No one knows exactly what he can do. Wyatt Flint is utterly unique. No damage done, however? Target acquired, all systems go?"

"That's right."

"Well, then, let's not cry about that either," said Steele. "Anything else?"

"Um, there's the gargoyle."

"Right, you mentioned that. Are you positive he's necessary?"

"No, I suppose not, but I can't get rid of him without upsetting Wyatt."

"Then let's not get rid of the gargoyle. Let's keep Flint happy."

"Copy that."

"You want a sunlight blocker for him, I suppose?"

"That would be really, really fabulous," she said.

"I'll have it for you at the airport," she said. "Along with your tickets and papers. Duke has the specifics of the next portion of the mission."

"To get the container."

"Yes, the container. I'll have an agent meet you near the ticket kiosks. He'll be wearing a blue cap, and you'll know him because he'll inquire after the weather in Alaska."

"Copy that," said Jesse. "Thank you, Steele."

"Just stay on task as best you can," she replied. "And try not to go off script again if you can manage."

"Oh, you know me," said Jesse. "Staying on script is my middle name." She paused. "Second middle name. After Insanity. Jesse Insanity Staying on Script Talon. It's a mouthful, but—"

And Steele had hung up on her.

Jesse smirked and shoved her phone back in her pocket.

* * *

Jesse supposed she'd come away from the exchange fairly easily. Steele could be quite vindictive when she wanted to be. If she wasn't pleased, then she could make an agent's life miserable. Jesse had heard of people being pulled from active missions and physically reprimanded.

Sometimes, thinking of those sorts of things, Jesse felt trapped. She knew that she couldn't leave Section X. If she did, she'd be released into a situation that was far worse. They had her by the balls. Well, they would if she had balls, anyway. It was the same for a lot of the agents in the organization, but not all. She knew that some who worked there had been recruited because of their excellence.

As they wrangled a stone Connor into the back seat of the car, she wondered about Duke. She'd never asked him about it. It wasn't the kind of thing that agents talked about—before Section X. There was no point in it. Usually, it was painful. Even in the case of an agent who'd come aboard willingly, he or she would have had a reason to leave the world behind and become part of the covert organization.

She wondered about Duke.

Duke hadn't always been a drake. When they'd first started working together, he'd been as human as they come. Then there had been an incident and the transformation had occurred. Being a drake had changed him, but it had only made him more serious and more dedicated. He was devoted to Section X now. Maybe that was because he had nothing to go back to either.

Duke and Wyatt worked together to get Connor into the car and the door closed, but they didn't speak more than was necessary.

She wasn't entirely sure why Duke had taken such an instant dislike to Wyatt. Well, maybe that was stating it strongly. She didn't think Duke had mustered something as strong as dislike for the dragon, but she knew that he was being less than polite. It wasn't like him, because he knew that Wyatt was an integral part of the mission, and Duke was usually a consummate professional.

As for Wyatt, she was fairly sure that he was only responding in kind. Of course, she'd seen the way he could be when he was angry. The way he'd treated Cy and Bix showed that he was utterly capable of scorn. So, if he had been truly disgusted by Duke, he would have been more intense. As it was, he was probably just reacting to what Duke was putting out.

The drive to the airport was void of conversation, then. Jesse did try a few times. She made a comment or two about the weather and one about the continental breakfast at the hotel.

Neither of the men in the car had anything to say back besides mmms or grunts.

Fine.

She looked out the window and stayed quiet.

They got to the airport and parked the car in the parking garage, and then Jesse volunteered to go to the ticket kiosk on her own to meet the agent Steele was sending. Of course, she couldn't call him an agent, so she simply said that she was meeting up with a contact from the vampire gang. They could have all gone, but then they had to carry Connor around, and he was pretty heavy in stone form.

The hand-off went smoothly, and she came back to find that Wyatt and Duke had taken Connor out of the car and leaned him up against the side of it. They were both standing nearby, hands in their pockets, studying the ground.

"Got it," she sang out, hurrying over.

"Got what?" said Wyatt. "What was that all about? And why couldn't we all go?"

"I told you," she said. "We don't want to have to drag Connor along."

"Well, we're going to have to, anyway," said Wyatt. "We can't just check him like luggage."

"Don't be silly," she said, laughing a little. She'd been given a small wrapped package from the agent. She took it out of her pocket and opened it. "They sent us this for Connor."

"Oh, hell, yes," said Duke, recognizing it. "Sunlight blocker. Great." It was an orange stone attacked to a silver chain. Duke took the blocker from Jesse and draped it over Connor's neck.

* * *

Connor choked, blinking hard. He had just turned back from stone all at once, and it was disconcerting. Usually, coming back from stone was a slower process, one body part at a time. It was like slowly waking up. This was like being doused with cold water. Connor found himself sputtering.

"What is that?" said Wyatt. "What did you do to him?"

"It's a blocker," Jesse was saying. "It makes it so that he doesn't turn to stone in the sunlight. It's cutting edge magic."

Connor flexed his hands in front of his face. "Okay, wait, what?"

Duke smiled at him. "Hey, you all right there?"

Connor managed to stand up straight. He wriggled his shoulders and his hips. He felt okay. He was just disoriented. "Where are we?"

"We're in the parking garage at the airport," said Duke. "We got a blocker for you so that—"

"Shit." Connor saw sunlight at the mouth of the parking garage. He pointed, gaping. "That's bright."

Duke's face splintered into a grin. "You, uh, you probably never saw sun before."

Connor shook his head slowly.

Duke put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's go take a look." Over his shoulder to Jesse and Wyatt. "You two deal with the luggage?" Without waiting for an answer, he led Connor toward the light.

Connor blinked and blinked. It was so bright, it almost hurt his eyes. Yet, he couldn't look away.

When they stepped out from inside the garage, it was blinding.

He cowered, cringing, hands over his face.

Duke squeezed his shoulder, gently chuckling. "It's okay."

Connor sucked in breath. There was something in Duke's voice that made it okay. He wasn't mocking Connor. Instead, the drake seemed to radiate strength and support. Connor slowly moved his hands and opened his eyes.

He was struck dumb.

This was the world?

The colors... It was winter, and yet, everything was so full of color. The sky was such brilliant blue, and the clouds so white. It was like being in a brightly lit room. And the sun. The sun was...

He gazed up at it, lips parted.

"Don't," whispered Duke. "Don't stare straight at it."

"Right," said Connor, looking away. "I've heard that." And now, he had that lens effect on his eyes that happened when he stared into lights. Several blue and green imprints of the sun covering his vision. He rubbed his temples. "I'm okay," he said. "I'm really fine."

"Take your time," Duke's voice rumbled. "It's not an easy thing to adjust to."

"No, I don't want to be a problem," said Connor. "You don't want to wait for me. Let's go."

Jesse and Wyatt were coming out of the garage, carrying all of the suitcases and bags. Some of them had wheels, which made it easier, but the two still looked pretty weighed down.

Connor hurried over and tried to take something from Wyatt. "Hey, let me help."

"I got it," said Wyatt, grinning at him. "Seriously. It's cool. You're seeing sunlight for the first time. Chill out."

Connor nodded. He looked up at the sky again in wonder.

Duke took some of the bags that Jesse was carrying.

"We do need to get in there," Jesse said. "We've got to get through security before our flight."

"Flight, right," said Connor.

"Where are we going, anyway?" said Wyatt.

"Belgium," said Duke.

"Belgium?" said Connor. "Like, another country? Seriously? I don't have a passport."

"Taken care of," said Jesse, touching her pocket. "They sent all the papers we needed along with the blocker."

Connor's fingers went to the orange stone around his neck. "So, 'they' are the vampire gang?"

"Yeah," said Jesse, and she started walking towards the front door of the airport.

"They gave me this?" Connor's fist closed over the blocker. "Why?"

"Because it was an enormous pain lugging your stone ass around," said Duke, shooting a good-natured glance at Connor. He was heading after Jesse.

Wyatt was walking too. "You are heavy, Connor."

"Yeah, but I mean... why do they care?" This didn't make sense. Connor knew it didn't. But everyone was walking away and leaving him behind, and no one was answering him. He scurried after them. "And passports? Plane tickets to Belgium? What kind of vampire gang is this?"

"A powerful one," said Jesse.

"Okay," said Connor. "But they're just buying plane tickets for four people? Like it's nothing?"

"They're old and rich," said Jesse. "They have money. I don't know how it works."

"They really want the things we're bringing them in trade for Jesse's sister," said Duke, and he gave Connor another look over his shoulder. This one clearly telegraphed that Connor should shut up.

Connor didn't. "Okay, but why me too? I was never part of this negotiation."

"We told them we needed you," said Jesse.

"And they just went for that?" said Connor.

"Yep," she said.

"But you couldn't talk them out of giving up your sister? What's your sister to them?"

"Listen, they're vampires, and they're ancient, and they don't make sense," said Jesse.

Connor narrowed his eyes. "But—"

"But nothing," said Jesse, glaring at him over her shoulder. She walked faster. "Come on, we're wasting time talking."

Connor didn't argue anymore, partly because he was afraid that they'd get really annoyed with him and take back the sun blocker, which was basically the coolest thing he'd ever experienced in his life. But none of this added up, and he wasn't the least bit satisfied with their answers. Something was screwy here. He didn't know what it was, but he was going to figure it out.

He was distracted by the airport, however. Connor had never flown on a plane in his life, and he found the experience completely absorbing. First, they had to check their suitcases. That meant that they handed over the suitcases to workers who put big stickers on the handles. Their bags went over a conveyor belt and disappeared. Supposedly, they'd scan the stickers and then load the luggage onto the proper plane, and it would end up at the destination along with the plane.

But Connor felt a little nervous about it. He thought he'd feel better if he'd been allowed to keep his bags with him.

Then they had to go through security, which meant taking off their shoes and putting their bags on a belt to be scanned for dangerous substances. Once that was done, they were able to head to the place where their plane would board. Connor was surprised by the inside of the airport, which was mostly like a shopping mall. Well, maybe like a really big food court. There were stores lining all the halls, but most of them were restaurants. A few had souvenirs or books or things.

Of course, they didn't stop at any of these places. They walked past everything and finally got to their gate. There were rows and rows of chairs and one wall was a bunch of windows. They could see out into the runway where planes were taxiing or parked or taking off.

They didn't have to wait too long for loading onto the plane. They were called by their ticket numbers, a few passengers at a time. When they were called, Connor trooped onto the plane with the others. They found their seats and got comfortable.

And they waited some more. They were stuck on the ground for a long time, and Connor didn't know why. Neither Duke nor Jesse seemed to act like that was strange, so maybe being stuck in the plane was typical.

Eventually, though, a flight attendant got up in the front and told them all about the safety measures on the plane and what to do in case of an emergency, which made Connor a little nervous, because he hadn't been thinking about plane crashes until then.

Finally, it was time to take off.

Connor gripped the seat handles as the plane accelerated faster and faster. He couldn't feel it when the wheels left the ground, but he noticed that the scenery outside the window was looking further and further away.

They were flying.

He was a little giddy about it. He'd never done anything like this before. He tried not to let it show, because he wanted to seem cool and untouchable. And he noticed Wyatt was doing the same thing, even though he was sure that Wyatt had never flown before.

It didn't take long once the plane was in the air for boredom to set in. Connor asked Duke how long the flight was. Eight hours.

They were going to be on this plane forever.

Luckily, there were little screens on the back of the seats in front of him. He could watch movies or check where the plane was and how much longer the flight was. It kept him sane.

But it wasn't long before he was thinking about this vampire gang thing again, and how none of it made any sense at all. He turned everything he knew over in his head again and again, and he still couldn't make it make sense.

At one point, he noticed that Wyatt got up to go to the bathroom.

Connor got up too, but he didn't go in the other bathroom. He just waited back there, near the bathrooms, until Wyatt came out.

"Listen, Wyatt, I don't know what we've gotten ourselves into," said Connor.

"You mean being on a plane?" said Wyatt. "It's weird. It doesn't feel like flying at all. You know, when I shift, I've got the wind against me, I can feel the air under my wings."

Why hadn't Connor thought about the fact that Wyatt was a dragon? Of course, flying was no big deal to him. "Well, being on a plane is kind of cool, but no, that's not what I meant. Something's not right."

"You mean, because they got you that sun blocker, like you were saying earlier?"

"I've met vampire gangs before, Wyatt. They're not like this. They don't send humans and drakes on trips across the Atlantic in order to free someone from a blood contract."

"No?"

"No, if you want out of a blood contract, you buy your way out," said Connor. "The money these vampires have spent on us, sending us here? And that hotel we stayed at last night, too? They wouldn't spend money to help break a blood contract. It's... wrong."

"So, what are you saying? You saying that Jesse is lying?"

"I..." Connor didn't know if he wanted to commit himself to an accusation. "I don't know. I'm just saying something's not right."

Wyatt stroked his chin.

"I know you like her, but—"

"She's a girl in trouble. I'm helping her out. That's all."

"Oh, sure." Connor snorted. "You know, I don't know if she is in trouble."

Wyatt didn't say anything.

"We don't know her," said Connor. "And we let her take us across the ocean, in a plane, to another country."

Wyatt clapped Connor on the back. "Oh, okay, this is what this is about. You're nervous to be so far from home."

"Well, sure, I'm nervous, but that's not what it's about."

"We're going to be fine," said Wyatt. "You'll see." He patted Connor's shoulder and then headed back for his seat.

Connor watched him go, sighing.

CHAPTER TEN

Jesse came out of the bathroom in a gold sequined dress that brushed the floor. She was holding it together in the back. "Can someone help me zip this up?"

They were in a set of guest rooms in a mansion belonging to Max Janssens, a wealthy Belgian dragon. Honestly, saying a dragon was wealthy was a bit like saying the sky was blue. Almost all dragons were. Some said that dragons were attracted to glitz and glamor, but the truth was that they just lived a long time and all passed their wealth from generation to generation. Dragons had a tough time conceiving, so there were rarely more than one or two dragon heirs to a fortune. That meant the money didn't get divided up too much.

Section X had set them up with invitations to Max's mate-finding party, which was a thing that dragons did. All dragons were mated to one other dragon. When a dragon found his or her mate, they felt a strong physical bond. But sometimes dragons' mates weren't convenient. Sometimes one mate lived in Australia and the other in Austria. To ensure that dragons met each other's mates, dragons would host big, brazen parties that might last an entire weekend, during which other dragons from all over would mingle and hopefully mates would be found.

"Yeah, I got it," Duke called from the couch in the adjoining room between their bedrooms. He was typing on his laptop, not looking at her.

Their set of rooms all connected to a living area with antique couches, all in rose and mint green. The place looked as if it had been decorated in the 1700s. It was ornate and opulent. Even the flourishes had flourishes. Jesse could easily imagine Marie Antoinette coming out of one of the three different adjoining bedrooms. The three rooms worked out fine, since Connor didn't need to sleep.

Wyatt was already across the room. "Here."

She turned her back to Wyatt. "Thanks."

"Sure," said Wyatt, whose fingers were deft and warm as they brushed against her bare skin.

She shivered involuntarily at his touch. The zipper on the dress began all the way down her back, just inches above the cleft of her ass, and this all seemed very intimate. She didn't usually give it a second thought with Duke, but he was trained for all of this, and Wyatt was...

"There," said Wyatt.

She stepped away, adjusting herself in the dress. "Thanks." She touched her forehead. "Man, I could stand with not doing this jet-lagged."

"Woman up," said Duke, who was now across the room, standing next to the two of them. "We've got work to do."

"I know," she said, smoothing the skirt of the dress. It wasn't a very comfortable dress, but she needed to look like one of the fancy guests at the party. This would allow her to blend in.

Wyatt was halfway into a tux. His bow tie was untied around his neck, and he hadn't put on his cummerbund or jacket yet. "What is this work, anyway? What are we doing here?"

"Oh, I'm going to explain that to everyone," said Duke. "Where's Connor? Is he still stone?" The gargoyle had taken off his blocker once they'd gotten to the room because he wanted to rest. The jet lag really was brutal. Ideally, Jesse would have liked a day or two to adjust. But that wasn't the way that Section X operated.

So. Woman up indeed.

"I'm here," said Connor, appearing from one of the bedrooms. "It's dark outside, remember?"

"All right, well, huddle up, team," said Duke, quirking an eyebrow ironically.

Connor loped his way over.

Duke looked Wyatt over. "You, Flint, you're not dressed."

Wyatt picked up the edges of his bow tie ruefully. "I've never tied one of these in my life."

Duke rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Here, let me see it."

"I've got you," Connor sang, turning Wyatt to face him. He began to tie the bow tie. "So, continue, then, Duke. What's the plan?"

"Okay," said Duke. "Well, we're here for a magic container. It's ancient and powerful. It looks like a ceramic vase with a lid. It's white with runes engraved on the outside." He broke away and went over to the couch.

"There you go," said Connor, finishing Wyatt's tie.

Wyatt touched it. "Thanks, Connor."

Connor smiled. "No problem at all."

Duke was back, carrying his laptop with him. He turned it to face them, and they all saw that there was a picture on the screen of the container. It was exactly as he described. "Now, the person who owns this container is named Damien Ainsworth. He's a jet-setting dragon who goes all over the world, but we happen to know that he's got the container with him here at this party in Belgium."

"We buying it from him like with the guys at the club?" said Wyatt.

"No," said Duke. "Negotiations have been attempted, and Ainsworth is not interested in selling. So, we're stealing it."

Wyatt's eyes widened.

Duke pointed at Jesse. "You are our distraction. You keep Ainsworth occupied and out of his room. Flint, you're lookout. You're going to be downstairs at the party. Make sure that Ainsworth doesn't leave." Duke turned to Connor. "And you, Beckett, are with me. We're going to crack Ainsworth's safe."

Connor looked delighted. "Seriously? That's so exciting."

"Wait," said Wyatt. "I'm the lookout? But Jesse's watching Ainsworth, right?"

"Just try not to cause trouble," said Duke.

Wyatt glared at him. "Is this because of what happened last time?"

"No," said Duke, turning his laptop back around to scrutinize the screen. "But stay on script this time, Flint, huh?"

"What is my script?" said Wyatt.

"Watch," said Duke. "You see something, speak up."

"Great," said Wyatt, pressing his lips together.

Duke ignored the sarcasm. "Any other questions?"

There were none.

* * *

"Distraction, huh?" said Wyatt, now in his complete tux. He and Jesse were in the elevator, on their way down to the party. "I guess I know what that really means. You're going to flirt with him? Did you know it was going to be like this for everything the vampires want you to do? No wonder you were a mess when you met me."

Jesse ran her finger under the strap of her gown. "No, it's not like that."

"So, you didn't know?" Wyatt's eyes seemed even bluer than usual.

"I... I mean, I had an idea." She shrugged. "I've had to do this sort of thing before, even when I wasn't trying to steal things for vampire gangs, so it's really fine. It's not a big deal."

Wyatt nodded slowly, but he was looking at her with real concern in his eyes.

"Stop," she said. "You're always looking at me like you feel sorry for me."

He took her hand. "Jesse, you don't have to be stuck in this. Trading on your looks to get what you need. You're much more capable than that."

She snatched her hand back. "I know that. But I use whatever advantage I have, okay?"

"It's only that when we met, the way you acted around me—"

"Wyatt..." She sucked in breath. God, she had bungled this mission so badly. She would have stayed on script if she could, but Wyatt was so hard to pin down. Now, she had to twist everything she'd done and try to make it make sense. "I told you why that was. I just wanted to escape. I wanted to block everything out."

"Yeah," he said. "You were desperate. Because you're not being treated with respect. Duke's up there, just assuming you'll be a 'distraction,' and he's not even taking into account how that makes you feel."

"No, you don't understand."

"Duke doesn't respect you," said Wyatt, lifting his chin. "And I think he's angry with me because I do, and it makes him feel guilty. I don't know if he's simply so desperate to get Amy back that he's willing to sacrifice you—"

"Sacrifice? I'm fine here. You're making this into a big deal, and it's not."

"So, you want to distract that man out there? That your idea of fun, pretending to be interested in someone you're not?" said Wyatt.

"It's not so bad."

"Yeah, but where does it end?" Wyatt looked her over. "You say you've had to do this kind of thing before? So, how far have you had to go?"

"Wyatt, please, I don't see how this is any of your business." Thankfully, they reached the bottom floor. The elevator door opened. She stepped forward.

He stopped her, hand on her arm. "Jesse. We could find another way."

"What are you talking about?" She shook him off.

"To distract Ainsworth. You and me together, we could do it. It doesn't have to be about... about disrespecting yourself."

She glared at him. "Listen, this is my choice, Flint. So, I can't help but think that the only person around here that doesn't respect me is you."

He shook his head. "Okay, try to convince yourself of that if you want, but I know better. You threw yourself at me back in Sea City because something inside you is broken, and it's gotten broken doing this crap to yourself. I saw it before in those women in Dractera, and I see it in you."

She sucked in breath through her nose. "No. Whatever you think you see, you don't."

By this time, the elevator door had closed again, so she had to push the button to open it back up. Then she stalked out, trying to get away from Wyatt, put as much distance as she could between him and his stupid words and his very, very stupid, concerned, oh-so-blue eyes. Screw Wyatt Flint. He didn't understand anything.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Connor watched as Duke knelt down next to the door of Ainsworth's block of guest rooms. They were in a gilded hallway. The wallpaper had a golden sheen to its intricate design. The raised moulding on the walls was ornate. Every few feet, there were large paintings in elaborate frames. There was a thick carpet running up and down the hallway.

Duke slid a long, thin piece of metal into the keyhole on the door.

"What's that?" said Connor.

"Lock picking tools," said Duke. "You never saw them before?"

Connor shook his head.

"Come here," said Duke. "I'll show you how it's done."

Connor crouched down next to Duke.

"So," said Duke, "inside every lock, you have a set of pins. They're basically just little metal cylinders that are different sizes, right?"

"Uh... if you say so."

Duke chuckled. "You never broke in somewhere before?"

"Well, I locked myself out of my apartment once or twice, but I usually got in through a window," said Connor. "Never picked a lock."

"Yeah, it's a little bit of a naughty thing to do." Duke slid his tool out of the lock.

Naughty? Connor swallowed. And was he reading too much into the way the tool was being inserted and removed like that? God, what was it about Duke that made him think these kinds of thoughts? The drake was just so... potent, that was all. And now Connor was so close to all that smooth, dark skin, and the strong muscles moving beneath it, and...

Connor felt lightheaded. "Uh, it's not that I'm opposed," and his voice sounded a little strained. "I used to do some stuff with computers. Not really hacking. I wasn't that good. But I would figure out how to find things out."

Duke raised his eyebrows. "Really? I had no idea. You have any other talents?"

Connor's mouth was dry. "Um..."

The two just stared at each other, neither speaking.

"Uh, what were we doing again?" Duke murmured.

"You were teaching me about locks."

"Right." Duke grinned. "Uh, so, there are pins. And usually, they're lying down here, and they're all different lengths. But if I put in the right key, it moves them up so that they all line up and then the door can turn. You understand?"

Connor didn't really, but he nodded.

"If I can maneuver the pins into the same formation that a key would, I can line them up," said Duke. "You can feel it when you get it. You want to try?"

"Uh..."

Duke seized Connor's hand and pressed one of the tools into it. "Here. Shove that on in there."

Connor shut his eyes for a second. Duke was doing this on purpose, wasn't he? His fingers were lingering against Connor's...

No.

Connor was imagining things, because he'd seen the way Duke looked at Jesse and the way he was jealous of Wyatt. Which didn't make sense, either, because Duke was supposed to be Jesse's sister's boyfriend, but this whole thing was insane and—

"Go ahead," said Duke.

Connor pushed the slim metal tool into the lock.

"Hey, what time is it?" said Duke.

"Last I looked, it was almost seven," said Connor. "Or whatever they use here in Belgium. 19:00."

"Yeah, it's time for a check-in," said Duke. He touched the ear piece he had in. "Check in, all. Duke and Beckett on task. All is well."

Connor wrinkled his nose, hearing Duke in his own ear and also right next to him.

But then a crackle and Jesse's voice. "Talon here. Target in sight."

And then Wyatt also. "Flint here. Everything is clear."

"Great," said Duke. "We're going radio silence unless there's a problem. Next check-in in thirty minutes."

"Copy that," said Jesse. "Talon out."

"Flint out," said Wyatt.

"Duke and Beckett out," said Duke.

* * *

"Damien Ainsworth, is that really you?" Jesse put her hand to her chest and gave the dragon her best starstruck look. Ainsworth was not unattractive, but then dragons usually weren't. They aged slowly, so they still looked good when they were over a hundred years old, and they had the money and time to make sure they stayed trim and fit.

Ainsworth turned to her. He was at the buffet table, helping himself to some stuffed mushrooms. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh, well, I think we met briefly," said Jesse. "But you probably don't remember me. It was the Van Shuyler party in the fall?" She knew from her intel where Ainsworth had been lately.

Ainsworth tapped his bottom lip with one finger. "Seems like I'd remember someone as pretty as you."

She pretended to look flattered. "You meet so many people. How could you remember everyone?"

"That is true," said Ainsworth. "Still, I do apologize. What is your name again?"

"Jessica," she said. It was easier to use names close to her own. "Jessica Cortland." The Cortlands were a sprawling dragon clan, bigger than most others. Hopefully, he'd think that she was one of the nieces he'd met a time or two.

"Oh, of course," said Ainsworth. "I do remember you after all." He smiled at her. "You're one of the crazy Cortland girls. Always getting into trouble, you lot."

She giggled. "What can I say?" Due to their aging, dragons had an extended adolescent period that tended to stretch until they found their mate, regardless of how old they were. Most unmated dragon girls were partyers. "I like to cut loose."

He smiled. "Well, we have that in common. You seem to be missing a drink. Can I help you with that?"

"That would be very nice of you," she said.

They made their way over to a bar. There were drink stations set up in every room, each with their own dedicated bartender. She ordered a bone dry martini and then they wandered until they found an alcove with a couch and an easy chair.

They sat down on the couch. She sat down close, so that their legs were touching. He didn't seem to mind. He casually rested his hand on her thigh and babbled to her about sports and the stock market and other things she didn't care about.

She found she didn't like the closeness. She wasn't sure why it was bothering her so much, but she wished she could push his stupid hand off of her body, and that she didn't have to press herself up against him, smell his overpowering cologne. Usually, she could lose herself in this kind of thing, find some way to be the person she was pretending to be. She sunk all the way into her character, and she felt the things she would pretend to feel.

But she couldn't manage that this time, and she wondered if it had something to do with that crap that Wyatt had said to her in the elevator.

It was all ridiculous. He was talking about things he didn't understand. He didn't know who she was at all, and the fact that he kept trying to save her made her annoyed. She wasn't some pathetic girl from that Dractera world. She didn't need him. She could take care of herself.

She didn't have her gun, it was true. Sweetcheeks didn't really go with the outfit. But she was trained. Section X had made her lethal, whether she was carrying a gun or not. A dragon like Ainsworth, he was dangerous because he had magic, but he was easier to kill than a drake or a vampire. Unlike those creatures, dragons were mortal. A gunshot to the chest took them down. They could bleed out. Dragons had powerful magic, but they were vulnerable in other ways.

Not that she was going to kill Ainsworth.

Except she was thinking about it, because she had to endure his touch and his smell and he was making her feel trapped and angry.

She suddenly vaulted up from the couch. "Maybe we should take a walk."

"A walk sounds great," said Ainsworth, getting up and winding his arm around her waist. "What about a walk up to your room?"

"What?" She pulled back. "Absolutely not. My, um, my parents are there."

"Oh," he said, wincing. "Too bad."

"I only meant a walk around the party, maybe get another drink, that kind of thing," she said.

"We could go to my room," said Ainsworth. "How about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said. Inwardly, she was panicking. She had screwed this all up, and it was Wyatt's fault. She was supposed to keep Ainsworth out of his room. That way they could steal the container. "It's so nice down here."

"It's nicer in my room," said Ainsworth. "We could really get to know each other there." He winked at her.

Jesse touched her ear, turning on the ear piece there. "I'd really rather not go to your room," she said, hoping that Duke would overhear and understand. "But if you're insisting, I don't know how to refuse you."

* * *

"Can you feel it?" Duke said to Connor as Connor maneuvered the lock picking tool inside the door knob."

"I... not really," said Connor.

Duke wrapped his arms around Connor from behind, and put his hands over Connor's hands. It was quite a feat. Connor had wings back there, and even with them tucked down and folded in, they took up some space. But Duke had very broad shoulders. He was mammoth, and now, Connor felt like they were touching everywhere, Duke's chest molded against Connor's back, his arms around him. "Here, like this," said Duke, moving Connor's hands.

And Connor felt it. The pins in the lock clicked into place. "Oh," he said. "It's there." He turned the knob and the door fell open.

"You did it," said Duke in his ear, his voice husky.

Connor felt a little shiver at the back of his spine. "Oh, no way. I couldn't have done it without you. You did all of it."

"Don't sell yourself short," said Duke.

They stayed there for a moment, neither moving, so close. And then Duke stood up and backed away from Connor.

Connor got to his feet too.

The two regarded each other for a minute, and Connor felt a heat in Duke's gaze that shouldn't be there. The drake was confusing the hell out of him. Was Connor really supposed to pretend that all of this interaction between them had been innocent? It hadn't been. He was positive of that.

Well, okay, positive was putting it strongly.

But if Duke was doing this all on accident, then the guy needed to rein himself in, because it was borderline cruel to lead Connor on like that.

Not that Connor should be focusing on hooking up with the hot drake, anyway. I'm here for Wyatt, he told himself. I'm looking after Wyatt.

Right, which was why he was up here with Duke, and Wyatt was nowhere to be seen. But he'd had to do that. He couldn't make too many waves, or he'd be kicked to the curb, and then he wouldn't be any help to Wyatt at all.

Duke broke their gaze and sauntered into Ainsworth's suite.

Connor followed him.

"Close the door," Duke said.

Connor closed it. Maybe he should simply bring it up and clear the air. If he point blank asked Duke, then they'd both know where they stood. But what would he say? Um, aren't you straight? So, why are you hitting on me?

No, he wasn't going to say anything. Anyway, hitting on was putting it strongly. Except for the way that Duke had put his arms around him, it was all open to interpretation.

Inside the room, it looked a lot like their rooms—a sitting room surrounded by a few bedrooms. The style of the decor was similar, but everything in this room seemed to follow a green and gold color scheme.

Duke strode across the living room.

"So, um, where do you think it is?" said Connor. "You think he just leaves it lying around in plain sight?"

"That would be handy, wouldn't it?" Duke said, not looking at Connor. He stopped, one hand on the couch, and looked around the room.

Suddenly, there was noise in their ear pieces.

"I'd really rather not go to your room," came Jesse's voice. "But if you're insisting, I don't know how to refuse you."

Duke's nostrils flared. "Well, shit."

"What's that mean?" said Connor. "Ainsworth's coming up here?"

"Apparently," said Duke. "Let's get cracking, Connor, we need to find that container."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ainsworth was laughing. "You wouldn't refuse me, would you, Jessica? I feel like you and I have such a connection."

"We do," she said. "It's only that it's a little sudden, isn't it, leaving the party now?"

"Please," said Ainsworth, "you've been sending me all the signals, and you practically jumped me over the hors d'oeuvres. Now, you're not interested? What's that all about?"

Jesse swallowed. Okay, he was getting angry? Maybe she could work with that. She could fight with him, and keep him distracted, that would keep him out of his room and give Duke and Connor the time they needed to get in and get what they had come for. "I just think you're making assumptions. Simply because a woman is friendly, it doesn't mean she wants to go to bed with you."

"What's friendlier than going to bed together?" said Ainsworth, laughing. "Come on, I know you. The last party we were at, you slept with half the guest list. Why are you being so prim now?"

"Maybe you have me confused with someone else?" She raised her chin.

"There a problem here?"

Jesse looked up to see that Wyatt was standing in the opening to the little alcove where they'd settled. He had a glass of red liquid in his hand. Wine or blood, she couldn't be sure.

"No problem at all," said Ainsworth, looking Wyatt over. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'd rather hear from the lady if you don't mind," said Wyatt, turning to her. "This man bothering you?"

"Oh, fuck you," said Ainsworth. "This is none of your business. Maybe you should turn around and move along."

Wyatt drained the rest of his glass and set it down on a table next to a potted ficus tree. "Yeah, I don't think so. Your attitude tells me everything that I need to know."

Ainsworth glared at him. "You know what? If you're not going to move on, then we will. Come on, Jessica." He reached out and took her by the arm.

"I think you're staying right here," countered Wyatt. He touched his ear. "I'm keeping you here, Ainsworth," he said loudly, putting too much emphasis on the words, because he wanted Connor and Duke to hear.

Jesse rolled her eyes. She could have accomplished this without Wyatt, but he had to play the white knight, didn't he?

"How do you know my name?" said Ainsworth.

"Oh, everyone knows your name," said Wyatt. "You're Damien Ainsworth, and you're the kind of rich scum that should be pounded into the floor and peeled off."

Ainsworth's eyes widened. "If I were you, I'd take that back."

"Absolutely not."

"Take it back," said Ainsworth, "or become a barbecue."

"A what?" Wyatt raised his eyebrows.

Ainsworth sucked in a lungful of air and blew it all out as fire, straight at Wyatt.

Jesse backed away, tripped over her heels and went sprawling onto the couch where she'd been sitting with Ainsworth.

Wyatt walked through the dissipating flames and breathed fire back at Ainsworth. Wyatt's fire was hotter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Connor and Duke were in the middle of overturning everything in Ainsworth's suite when they heard Wyatt breaking in over their ear pieces.

"What's he doing?" Duke growled from a chest of drawers. He'd pulled all of them out and was going through each of them, tossing clothing on the floor. "I told him to stay on script, didn't I?"

Connor was bent over a suitcase, which hadn't been packed well. All the clothes inside—mostly t-shirts and jeans—had been shoved inside willy nilly. He was about at the point where he was going to pick it up and turn it upside down, but he was afraid that the container was inside and he would break it. "Well, he's buying us time, right?"

Wyatt's voice. "You're Damien Ainsworth, and you're the kind of rich scum that should be pounded into the floor and peeled off."

Connor winced. "Well, how's that for keeping a low profile?"

Duke let out a string of swear words. "That's not the script, Flint."

At which moment, Connor's fingers brushed something cool and porcelain. He pulled a white vase-like container out of the suitcase. "Got it."

"What?" said Duke.

Connor held it up. "I've got it."

"Oh, hell, yes," said Duke. "Good work, Beckett. At least you're not a total fuck-up."

"Does that mean you think Wyatt is?"

"Never mind," said Duke. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Jesse flung her arms up over her head to protect herself from the heat of Wyatt's flames. The fire licked over her, searing the hairs on her arms, making her face feel scorched like a sunburn.

Ahead of her, Ainsworth staggered, letting out a yelp. The front of his suit was singed, and so were the tips of his hair. "Who are you? What family are you from? When I find out, I will ruin you."

Wyatt chuckled. "I'm not the one looking as though he's going to be ruined. What's it going to be, Ainsworth? Want another taste of my fire?"

Ainsworth smoothed his suit jacket as best he could. "This is all very uncouth. I don't see why we can't settle this like gentlemen."

"Well, at the risk of sounding as though we're on the schoolyard, you started it," Wyatt smirked.

A voice in Jesse's ear. Duke's. "Target acquired. Repeat. Target acquired. Get clear of that shit, Talon."

Jesse got up off the couch, trying to gather herself. "Listen, you boys really don't have to fight over little old me. Let's all just go our separate ways and forget this ever happened, hmm?"

Wyatt's lip curled. "I don't know about that. I think this one wants taught a lesson."

"Wyatt," she snapped.

Ainsworth turned to her. "You know this asshole?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Jesse. "I'm sorry. Ever so sorry. Do send my family the bill for the suit." She crossed to Wyatt, grabbed him by the arm, and propelled him through the alcove. "What the hell?" she whispered to him.

Wyatt struggled. "This isn't finished, Ainsworth," he called over his shoulder.

"Get hold of yourself," Jesse whispered fiercely.

Wyatt got free of her, shaking off her hand. He was still talking to Ainsworth. "I'm going to find you, and I'm going to—"

"Stop it already," Jesse said, and now she wasn't whispering. "Let it go."

Wyatt took a deep breath, nostrils flaring.

"You've got a temper, don't you?" said Jesse.

Wyatt didn't answer. He simply turned and started walking away. At least he was walking in the opposite direction of Ainsworth. Jesus. She went after him.

But they didn't make it far, because they were intercepted by men in uniforms. Belgian police. One of them yammered away in Dutch at Wyatt, who looked at him blankly.

Jesse had understood what he said. She looked around, eyes darting for an easy exit, someplace she and Wyatt could both get to in seconds. There was nothing. The doors were too far away, and there were too many people between them and freedom.

She didn't think she could sweet talk them, but it was worth a try. "My deepest apologies, sirs," she said in Dutch. "My brother here has had too much to drink. I was just escorting him back to our rooms to sleep it off."

"I'm afraid not," replied one of the officers in Dutch. "You're both under arrest. Turn around, please."

Wyatt glanced from the officers to Jesse. "What the hell is going on?"

Jesse ignored him. Instead, she toyed with the ring on her left hand. It had a chip of dragon scale in its setting. It was a talisman. She narrowed her eyes, concentrating on the officer. "You will let us go on our way," she said, pouring all the magic she could into her words.

But the officer simply snorted. He held up a long claw on a chain around his neck. "Do you honestly think we'd come into a dragon party without any protection? You're not going to be able to compel us, ma'am." And then he forcibly turned her around and snapped a handcuff over her wrist. The minute it touched her skin, she knew they were in trouble.

The cuff was seeded with dragon sacrifice, and it blocked all magic. She could feel herself be cut off from her talisman.

"Hey," said Wyatt, lurching forward to grab onto the officer. "You let her go."

"Don't resist," snapped the officer.

Another officer got a cuff onto Wyatt's wrist.

Wyatt gasped. "Cold," he breathed, shivering.

Jesse had heard the dragon sacrifice affected magical creatures that way. It made them feel cold and weak.

The officer wrenched Wyatt's hands behind his back and fastened the other handcuff. "Let's go," he said.

Damn it all. They were going to Belgian prison.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Do you copy?" Duke said, hand to his ear. "Talon, this is Duke, please come in." He grimaced and then glanced at Connor. "This isn't good."

It hadn't sounded good to Connor. He hadn't been able to understand what he'd been hearing over the ear piece, because it had all been in Dutch, but it had been better hearing something. There hadn't been any sounds coming over the ear pieces for nearly ten minutes.

They were in their rooms upstairs, and Duke was packing up everything—the laptops, everyone's suitcases, all of it. He snapped everything shut and used magic to pile it up next to the door. "So, it's protocol to dump the tech if you get compromised."

"Protocol, what are you talking about?" said Connor.

Duke ripped his ear piece out. "This is tech. You don't let this get out. You could get blown. So, first sign of trouble, you get rid of it. That's probably why we can't hear them."

"Blown?" said Connor. "How long have you two been working for the vampires? Are you really working for a vampire gang?"

Duke grimaced again. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck everything going off script." He shook his head. "Okay, we're going looking for them." He opened the door, snapped his fingers at the luggage (it all floated into the air behind him), and headed out into the hallway.

Connor scampered after him.

Duke looked him over. "You have a talisman?"

"Um... sure," said Connor.

"You can do magic?"

"Yes," he squeaked.

"Good, you take the bags and go to the rental car." Duke dug out a set of keys and handed them over. "Bring it around front and pick me up. By then, I should know what the heck happened."

"Sure," said Connor.

Duke shrugged.

All the luggage thudded against the ground.

Duke took off at a fast gait, walking with a purpose down the hallway away from Connor.

Connor was extremely confused. But he was pretty sure that he could handle doing what Duke had asked him to do. He was good with magic. He'd used it against sea monsters and vampires and drakes. He could handle floating some luggage. He nodded at the bags and they lifted into the air.

Connor made sure he had everything up and then he started to walk. He used his magic to bring the bags along with him.

He went down the hallway, out of the side door, and over a stone walkway through a set of gardens until he found the parking lot. The car they'd rented had been parked by valets, however, and he wasn't sure where it was. Furthermore, he couldn't even remember what it looked like.

He got the key out. He pressed the unlock button on it.

Distantly, he heard a beeping noise.

He pressed the unlock button again.

There.

There was the car.

Bringing the luggage, Connor made his way over to it. He opened the trunk and loaded all the luggage inside. Then he got in the front seat and started the car.

His next problem was figuring out how to get out front of the mansion. There were all manner of twisting little roads back here, some going to other parking lots, others through the garden, others in circles around fountains.

It took him a while.

Eventually, though, he managed to find the front entrance.

Duke was coming down the steps as Connor pulled up. He slid into the car. "They were arrested."

"Arrested?" Connor said in a tiny voice.

"Yeah, we're going to have to bust them out," said Duke. "Damn, damn, damn."

* * *

"What the hell are these things?" Wyatt said to Jesse in a low whisper.

The two were in the back of a police cruiser, whisking through the streets of the city of Charleroi. If she hadn't been in such a crappy situation, headed to jail and uncomfortably sitting on her hands which had lost circulation from being bound behind her back, she might have been charmed by the old world aesthetics of the city.

"What things?" she muttered back.

"What they put on us," he said.

"The cuffs?"

"Yeah, what are they? Why do I feel so... awful?"

"They're seeded with dragon sacrifice. They block magic," she said. "They use them to subdue magical creatures. Magical jails have the same thing in the foundations of the buildings."

"So, that's why I can't breathe fire or use telekinesis or anything?"

"That's why," she said.

"Well, that sucks," Wyatt said, and he sounded a little sulky. "What happens to us? Do your vampires have lawyers on retainer for us too, or will they just leave us here to rot?"

"I..." She wasn't sure. There was a chance of an exfiltration from Section X, but sometimes those took years if the agency decided to go through the proper channels. Something more violent, involving armed agents, was also a possibility, but that was typically reserved for important missions, and Jesse had no idea how important theirs actually was. That wasn't the kind of thing that was shared with agents when they got their assignments.

"So, we're rotting," said Wyatt.

"Listen, if we see a moment to get out of here, we'll take it."

"But how?" said Wyatt. "We've got no magic, and the only weapon you had in that dress, they found." He was talking about a small knife she had strapped to the inside of her thigh. The police had padded them down well, because even Ainsworth's roaming hands hadn't discovered it before. "So, I'm guessing there's not going to be a lot of opportunities."

"Well, I'm sure once Duke figures out what went wrong, he'll come for us." Because they needed Wyatt's cooperation to complete the mission. Somewhere down the line, he was important, so Steele would want him out. So, that would mean, somehow, whether it was Duke's doing or not, they'd get free. She simply needed to sit tight and wait it out. "In the meantime, keep your mouth shut. Don't tell them anything when they question you. Not a thing."

"Because we're protecting the vampires who have your sister? Maybe the police could help, Jesse."

"No," she said. "And we're protecting my sister not the vampires, okay? She's helpless, Wyatt." She needed to appeal to his heroic nature. He was always trying to save poor girls in need. Even if he did blab, he didn't know anything, so it didn't much matter. But she'd rather not confuse the issue with the police. Wyatt was right that they might want to interfere, and that was the last thing anyone needed.

"Your sister," said Wyatt, nodding slowly. "Right. That's why we're doing this. That's why we've got to get out of this."

"Yes," she said, even though they couldn't get out of it.

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Just sit tight, okay? I'm going to fix this."

"What?" What was he talking about, fixing this? Hadn't they just established that there was no way for any of it to be fixed? What stupid thing was Wyatt going to do now?

He was wriggling next to her, doing something at his wrists.

"I don't think you're going to be able to take the cuffs off," she said.

"Not the cuffs," said Wyatt. "But my dampener, yes."

"Dampener?"

Wyatt managed to fling the leather band out from his body.

She picked it up. "This. You took this off before you called the dragons." There was a decorative pattern of dragon scales in the shape of a fish attached.

"Yeah, it dampens my ability to call the dragons and access my blood dragon powers," said Wyatt. "If I don't wear it, dragons just follow me everywhere."

"But with the cuffs," she said, "you don't have any magic to dampen."

He shut his eyes. "Takes more than dragon sacrifice to cut me off from the dragons. Hang in there."

She looked from Wyatt, who was concentrating hard, to the front of the cop car, where the police officer driving seemed to be paying no attention at all to whatever they were saying. Probably didn't speak English, she thought. Or else, thought they were crazy.

She didn't think Wyatt was going to be able to call dragons with the cuffs on. He might think it could be done, but he didn't know anything about dragon sacrifice and the way it leeched out all magic from a magical being. She would let him try, of course, but soon enough, he'd give up.

Suddenly, a dragon landed on the hood of the car. It was massive, bigger than any dragon she'd ever seen. It had purple scales and bright green eyes, and it roared, showing rows of razor sharp teeth.

The driver screamed and slammed on the brakes.

The car fishtailed.

Jesse and Wyatt were thrown around in the back seat. She collided with the window, and pain blossomed through her head.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jesse gasped in pain.

The car was tumbling over and over on the pavement. The roof crunched in. There were sparks.

Abruptly, the car stopped, upside down, and she and Wyatt were pinned hanging downwards, their seat belts keeping them from falling. She panted. Her whole body felt like a big bruise.

The dragon stalked past the side of her window.

She let out a strangled sound.

The dragon lowered its head close to the windows of the car. She could see one of its huge, glowing green eyes. It opened its mouth and fire came out, an ocean of hot fire.

Jesse cringed from it.

A sound. Glass shattering. A hoarse cry.

She opened her eyes.

The dragon had clawed through the front window and had its claws in the driver. It tugged the police officer out of the car and sent him flying through the air.

Jesse looked at Wyatt. Was he doing this?

Wyatt was concentrating. He was gritting his teeth.

The dragon was back, claws in the metal of the car, turning it back over onto its wheels.

Jesse's stomach lurched.

The dragon tore off the roof of the car and the cold night air licked at her shoulders and cheeks. But the cold was replaced by the blistering heat of the dragon's flames as it threw back its head and roared out fire.

"Why is it doing that?" Jesse demanded.

"It's a little harder to control than I thought," Wyatt said through clenched teeth. "I think the cuffs are blocking some of my power."

"So, you're not controlling it?"

The dragon's claws swiped inside the car.

Jesse screamed. They were coming directly for her.

But its claws only ripped open her seat belt, freeing her. Then the dragon freed Wyatt.

Jesse struggled to stand, her head coming up out of the top of the ruined car.

The dragon flapped its massive wings.

"Why is it so big?" Jesse screeched.

"It's from Dractera," said Wyatt, who was standing next to her. "A few got through the portal when I was coming back with my family and they're loose in our world. The dragons there are bigger than our dragons."

But even though she wasn't buckled in and the roof was off the top of the car, she couldn't get out of the car. Her arms were still cuffed uselessly behind her back. So were Wyatt's. She started to communicate that to him.

But the dragon's talons came back into the car, closing around her.

She screamed again.

It lifted her into the air and then dumped her out on the road next to the car. They were in the middle of a narrow street in the city. The road was paved in stones and the old buildings on either side were crafted of stone as well. There was shattered glass everywhere. The police officer was lying face down, twitching and moaning.

The dragon set Wyatt down next to her.

She gasped.

He looked around.

Overhead, the dragon gazed down at them, green eyes glowing.

Jesse shivered, and it wasn't just from the cold.

* * *

"What the hell is that?" Duke yelled.

"It's a dragon," said Connor, watching the huge purple thing descend out of the sky and disappear behind buildings a few streets over. "That's from Wyatt. Wyatt called that dragon."

"Called?"

"He can call dragons," said Connor. "Bring them to him. It's part of his—"

"Blood dragon powers. Right, I forgot." Duke turned the car, a hard right turn, heading for the dragon.

They careened around the corners of the narrow streets in the dark, heading in the direction of the smoke and flame that was coming from where the dragon had gone down.

Finally, after one last turn, they screeched to a stop because there was a police car overturned in front of them.

Wyatt and Jesse stood outside the car, hands behind their backs, huddled close.

Duke put the car in park and leaped out.

Connor followed him.

Duke went straight for Jesse. He turned her around and worked one of the lock picks into her cuffs. "Hey, there, hell of a way to meet up." He nodded at the dragon and the wrecked car.

"Wyatt did it," Jesse said, her voice shaking from the cold.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that." Duke shot a glance at Wyatt. "Everything you do so... flashy, Flint?"

Wyatt shrugged. "You know, I can't help it. I stand out."

Duke rolled his eyes.

"Connor?" called Wyatt. "My dampener's in the back seat of the car. You think you can get that for me?"

"Yeah, sure," said Connor. But when he got the car, the doors were all still locked. He had to lean in through the busted windows to find the dampener, but he did. He picked it up and came back to Wyatt. "Here."

"No, no," said Wyatt. Duke was behind him now, working at his cuffs. Duke had already freed Jesse. Wyatt shook his head. "You give it to me, I lose control of the dragon. Let's get clear first."

"Fine," said Connor, shoving the dampener in his pocket.

Duke freed Wyatt from the cuffs.

Wyatt flexed his arms, massaged his wrists. He looked up at the dragon. "Stay," he said in a quiet but firm voice.

The dragon settled down on the ground and folded in its wings.

Wyatt nodded at the dragon. "Okay, let's go."

"Right, right," said Duke. "Back to the car, everyone."

They hurried over the broken glass to climb inside. Duke zoomed off through the narrow city streets.

Once they were out of Charleroi and out into the surrounding area, which wasn't nearly so built up, Duke nodded at Jesse in the rearview mirror. "Talon, you want to call us in an exfil?"

"Sure thing," said Jesse.

Duke took out his cell phone and tossed it into the back seat to Jesse.

She snatched it up and typed in a few numbers. "Hey, Talon here," she said into the phone. "Yes, mission completion, with some complications. Exfiltration requested." She took the phone away from her ear, swiped the screen a few times and then put it back to her ear. Then she rattled off a set of numbers that sounded like coordinates or latitude and longitude. Connor had to admit that he wasn't very good with that kind of stuff. "Yes. Got it. Standing by." She hung up the phone and tossed it back to Duke.

"What do we got?" he said.

"Abandoned airfield to the north. They're texting the specifics soon."

"Great," said Duke. He put both hands on the steering wheel. "Okay, look, Flint, we've got to have a talk about this. Breathing fire, calling dragons—"

"We were stuck in that cop car," said Jesse.

"Yeah," said Duke, "and whose fault was it you got arrested?"

"Mine," sighed Wyatt. "Sorry. I was only trying to help buy time for you guys. Keep Ainsworth out of his room."

"Sure you weren't just itching to punish him?" said Duke.

"Punish him for what?" said Wyatt.

"Looking at Talon," said Duke.

Wyatt made a dismissive noise. "What? Why would I do that?"

Duke didn't answer.

Wyatt settled into the seat. "Jesse can take care of herself," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I can," said Jesse. "But being able to call in dragon help doesn't suck."

"That shit is last resort, Flint," said Duke. "We need to be flying under the radar, and you are blowing up our location to the universe."

"Is someone chasing you?" spoke up Connor.

"Well, no," said Duke. "I mean, not that we know of. But if someone wanted to, it sure as hell wouldn't be hard."

"I think you need to level with us about what's really going on here," said Connor. "Are we still going with this story that you're working for a vampire gang?"

"Come on, Connor," said Wyatt from the back seat. "Let it go."

"Did you just hear what happened?" Connor said, turning around to face him. "Exfiltration? Mission completion? That sound like crap vampire gangs say?"

"They're obviously very sophisticated," said Wyatt. "Can I have my dampener?"

Connor threw it at him. He waited for either Jesse or Duke to speak up and offer him some kind of explanation for what had happened, why their vampire gang was so atypical. But neither of them said a word.

* * *

Jesse pulled a sweatshirt over her head. She was out in one of the decrepit buildings on the edge of the abandoned airfield where their exfiltration would be taking place soon. She was happy to be changing out of that dress. Now, back in comfortable clothes and with Sweetcheeks safely holstered at her ankle, she felt better. It had been a crappy night, but they'd completed the mission, and things could have been worse. She was going to choose to look at the bright side.

Maybe she was a little, well, dazzled for lack of a better word.

Wyatt bringing in that dragon, the sheer power of it all... She'd never seen anything like it. He did have that hero shtick down, didn't he?

"Talon?" came a voice. "You decent?" It was Duke.

She zipped her suitcase closed. "Yeah, I'm here."

Duke materialized out of the darkness, his skin like midnight. His green eyes glittered out of the shadows.

She swallowed. Sometimes, it took her off guard that Duke was so attractive. She worked with him all the time, and they were so close as to be practically related, but, well... they weren't related. "Hey," she said softly.

"You gotta back off with Flint," said Duke.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Well, the mission changed," said Duke. "You're not honey trapping him, so lay off."

Her jaw worked. "Duke, I'm not trying to do anything with him anymore. I did lay off."

"Well, he's not getting the memo," said Duke.

"Did he say something to you? Why are you bringing this up?"

"No, I didn't have a heart-to-heart with him." Duke smirked. "I'm saying it because I can tell. He wants you. He's possessive of you. He's fucking up because of it. What was he like with Ainsworth?"

She sighed, remembering how Wyatt hadn't wanted to let go when it came to fighting Ainsworth, which he wasn't even supposed to do in the first place. She'd had to drag him away. "Well, to be fair, Ainsworth started breathing fire first."

"Not an excuse. If Flint was being careful he would have kept it on the down low, right? He went for it like crazy instead, and it was flames and cops and chaos. He's showing off, Talon, and it's for you."

She shrugged. "I don't know that it's about me. Maybe he's just... like that. You know, it's his hero routine. He's got to be the guy who fixes everything for everybody."

"Trust me, I know a strutting peacock when I see one."

"Yeah, but you don't like him."

Duke snorted. "That's ridiculous."

She shrugged. "Whatever. Since he showed up, you've seemed dismissive toward him. You wouldn't even load his bags into the back of the trunk."

"He wouldn't let me." And Duke sounded petulant.

"Listen, I'll have a talk with him, okay? I'll tell him to dial it back with the fire-breathing and all that."

Duke was quiet.

Figuring the conversation was over, Jesse started to walk past him. Wyatt and Connor were waiting by the car. A plane would be coming for them, something small and compact. They were closing in on the end of the mission, and it would all be over soon.

Duke caught her by the arm. "Hey, Jesse, wait a second," and his voice was a dark rumble. Maybe it was his tone, or maybe the use of her first name, but it all seemed suddenly intimate, and her inner core tightened.

"What?" she said, and she was whispering, even though they weren't near enough for anyone else to hear.

Duke's fingers relaxed against her arm, but he didn't move them away. "Maybe it's a two-way street? Maybe you're a little curious about what Flint's packing?"

"No," she said. She tried to pull away from Duke, but his fingers tightened on her arm again.

"It'd be understandable," said Duke. "Happens to all of us. You know about me and Miranda."

Geez. Duke never said Miranda's name out loud. Jesse knew better than to ever bring the woman up. "She was a mark," she said quietly. "Wyatt is working with us."

"Flint is a mark too." Duke's voice was cold and firm. "Don't forget it."

"He's different than a mark," she insisted, still whispering. She looked up at Duke, and he seemed so close. They weren't usually this close. She could reach up and brush her fingers over his face if she wanted. "That doesn't mean that I'm interested in him."

"No?"

"No."

He sucked in breath through his nose. And then he let go of her and turned his back to her. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "If it were just to let off steam, it would be one thing. But Flint wouldn't take it that way. Now, the other one, the gargoyle—"

"Is gay," said Jesse.

"Yes," Duke breathed. "Very, very gay."

Jesse furrowed her brow.

Duke turned back to look at her. "But you and Flint? There's nothing there for you?"

"No, there isn't," she said, even though she had to admit that she found herself a bit confused about Wyatt Flint. He wasn't a mark, and he wasn't a colleague. He was genuine in a way that was rare. He cared about people, and he wanted to do the right thing. And he was so, so powerful. She'd never met anyone as powerful as Wyatt.

"Then maybe you need to let Flint know that he's not headed inside your pants, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

She made a face. "Don't be crude."

"That wasn't crude, Talon." He smirked. Then his voice dropped suggestively. "I can be crude if you're interested."

She licked her lips. "Duke..."

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, forget I... Damn it, Talon. All I'm saying is that we need Flint in line. So, find a way to keep him from showing off for you, eh? Let him know it's not happening."

"I still think you're reaching," she said. "But I said I'd talk to him. I will."

"Shut it down, Talon," he said. "If you don't, our next mission might end up disastrous."

She was about to argue some more, but she spotted lights from the plane in the distance. It was coming in for a landing, and they needed to be ready. She grabbed her suitcase and started walking towards the car, where Wyatt and Connor were waiting.

Duke didn't come right away, but then he started moving. He caught up with her and offered to take her bag.

She shook her head, saying that she had it. She was capable of carrying her own bag, damn it.

The plane landed, and they got on board.

She was surprised that Section X had sent something so big. It was a far cry from the commercial jet that they'd flown to Belgium in, but it was actually a fairly decent-sized private plane. She'd thought they'd all be on top of each other in something tiny. This had a separate cockpit for the pilot and two bedroom areas in addition to the seating areas.

The minute they were in the air, Connor was asking questions. Why did a vampire gang have a plane like this? Why was it sending it out for them? What was really going on?

Jesse didn't answer any of his questions. She'd been ordered by Steele not to embellish the story at all, because otherwise she might run into problems later. But she had to admit that she felt a little annoyed that Steele couldn't honor the script Jesse had put together. How hard was that, really?

It was probably vindictiveness on Steele's part. Angry with Jesse for improvising.

Maybe she shouldn't have improvised, but she could guarantee that if she'd managed to sleep with Wyatt, it wouldn't have secured his cooperation. He wasn't that kind of guy.

They were all exhausted, so—as the sun came up—Connor took off his blocker and turned to stone, and the others sorted out their sleeping arrangements.

She got one of the bedrooms and she left Wyatt and Duke to sort out who would sleep in the other one. For all she knew they were going to arm wrestle over it. She was too tired to think about it.

She dropped into bed and fell asleep right away.

* * *

Jesse woke sometime in the afternoon and wandered back out into the seating area. Connor was still stone. Wyatt was out there, and he was awake.

"Duke got the bed?" said Jesse.

Wyatt looked up. "You're awake."

She smiled.

"We ended up flipping a coin," said Wyatt. "I tried to tell him to take the bed, and he kept insisting I take it. Neither of us was going to break."

"Well, how considerate of the both of you."

"Yeah." Wyatt wrinkled his forehead. "It was, uh, a fairly aggressive form of being considerate. That Duke guy... he kind of rubs me the wrong way."

She raised her eyebrows.

"I mean, I know he's your sister's boyfriend, and maybe he's just stressed out trying to get her out of this blood contract, but, uh..." Wyatt cocked his head to one side. "It's not just about your sister, though, is it? You've worked with these vampires a long time."

She sighed and sat down next to him. "Look, do we have to talk about the vampires?"

"I guess not," he said. "But I'm not wrong. The kind of stuff we've been doing, you're no stranger to it. I saw the way you called in the, uh, what'd you call it? Exfiltration?"

She laughed softly. "Okay, fine, yes. It's not a new thing for me. But it's complicated."

"Yeah, and they're not just a vampire gang. They've got to be some kind of conglomerate to have access to stuff like this private plane." He gestured around.

"Wyatt, at some point, I can explain all of this to you." Whenever Steele gets back to me with a fully formed cover story. "But for now, if you could try not to think too hard about it?"

"I'm not trying to poke holes in what you told me." Wyatt smiled at her, and the smile seemed to warm her, like cozying up to a fire. "That's Connor's thing. He's being suspicious because he's trying to look out for me. It's only that if I had understood the situation a little better, I might have realized that we weren't on our own, and that we could have probably waited at the police station for help. Your vampires would have gotten us out of there, wouldn't they? No dragons required?"

"Well, it probably would have taken some time. What you did was... efficient."

"But overkill, yeah?" He rubbed his jaw. "That's why Duke's annoyed with me. I keep overdoing everything."

"Well..." She nodded. "Actually, I was going to talk to you about that."

"I get the message," he said. "I'll tone it down."

"That would be good," she said. And she felt relieved. That had been easy. Also, Duke had been way off base. It had nothing to do with Wyatt trying to impress her. He was simply trying to solve problems the best way he knew how. Now that he realized it wasn't necessary, he'd change. Problem solved.

"Also, I should apologize for what I said to you before you went to distract Ainsworth. I think I upset you, and maybe you weren't as focused as you might have been."

She was surprised. That was pretty insightful of him. "Look, I was fine."

"The vampires force you to do this, don't they?" he said. "They do it by threatening your sister, and now you have a way out, and probably all you can think is that you just have to endure for a little while longer, and here I am, getting in your face and being sanctimonious about it. I'm really sorry. I feel like I've misread everything about you. You're not like those girls back on Dractera at all."

"No," she said, "I'm not."

He bit down on his lip and looked away.

She was quiet. She didn't know what to say to him now. On the one hand, she realized that she and Duke sucked at playing their cover story. Sucked hard, and they shouldn't be so shit at it, considering they were seasoned agents. It was hard, though, because there were so many layers to keep straight, and they tended to drop cover around each other. They had been doing that out of habit, but Connor and Wyatt were there, observing everything. She and Duke had screwed up.

On the other hand, it had been beneficial. Wyatt still believed her. He'd interpreted what he'd seen and worked it into the cover story himself. And now he seemed to understand her better and understand the situation better. So, maybe it was a win.

He turned back at her. "After it's all over, you think you'll be all right?"

"What?" She was confused. What was he talking about? "I'm all right now."

"You're not, though, or what I said to you in the elevator wouldn't have thrown you," he said. "I know you're doing what you have to do in order to survive, and you have to be hard. But when you get your sister free and when you don't have to play games to manipulate men, do you think you'll, you know, be able to get free of all of it, or will it haunt you forever?"

"I'm not haunted." And now she was annoyed. "What is your deal, Wyatt? Why do you have to make me pathetic and needy?"

"I'm not." He shook his head. "No, now that I think about it, you're the least pathetic person I know. You're crazy strong and resilient. I admire you."

She was surprised how nice it was to hear that. "You do?" She gave him a small, shy smile.

"Look, until a little over a month ago, I was practically the ruler of a small country, and people looked to me to make decisions, and I had to plan attacks against enemies. So, that's why, when shit goes down, I just act. I do things like breathing fire, or calling in a dragon, or whatever. Because that's what I'm used to doing. Just attacking a problem head on, you know? But you haven't had that luxury. You can't breathe fire, you can't call dragons, you don't have an army. And yet, you keep fighting for the people you love, for your sister. Of course I admire you."

She looked away. There was no sister. She'd never had a sister. And as for the people she loved, well... Tears welled up in her eyes and she swallowed them. Then she felt terrified, because she hadn't had such raw emotion over the past in a long time. She thought she'd tamped it all down. Except for that damned recurring dream, it was all locked away. What was it about Wyatt Flint that made her so off balance?

He laughed a little, almost bitterly. "Actually, I was asking if you thought you'd be okay for selfish reasons."

She turned back, hoping that her eyes weren't still shining. "What selfish reasons?"

He looked away, refusing to meet her gaze. "You know how I said that I was raised better than to take advantage of the women that threw themselves at me in Dractera? Well, that's not entirely true. There was one time... I guess I just thought that if you were okay, maybe she could be okay too. I left her there, you know? I never even said goodbye to her. Because she didn't mean anything to me, not really. I tried to make things better for her, but in the end, maybe I only used her." He looked up at Jesse now. "And if I hadn't been too drunk, I probably would have taken advantage of you too."

"Wyatt, I'm a big girl. You wouldn't have taken advantage of me."

He searched her eyes with his own. "No, it would have been wrong if it had happened between us that way."

And she sucked in breath, because she was suddenly glad—far too glad—that she hadn't seduced him for some mission, because it meant that he would still look at her this way.

And knowing that he wasn't that too-perfect, white-toothed-smile hero, that he had weaknesses and had done things he wasn't proud of, that made her feel closer to him. It made her like him more, because he seemed human and real, not untouchable. The fact that he was confessing it to her, that he trusted her with it, that made her feel like they were forging some kind of bond.

She wanted to tell him her secrets, too. But she couldn't.

So...

She wanted to kiss him.

She looked at his lips, and they were slightly parted and a little bit pink, and then she looked up into his eyes, and they were so blue and luminous that she thought she might fall into them and lose herself.

He drew in a breath, and his nostrils flared. With effort, he tore his gaze away from hers.

She felt it like a sharp instrument in her chest. Rejection. He thought she was damaged, and he didn't like it. But no, that was good. Because Duke was right. She couldn't let herself get involved with Wyatt. She needed to shut it all down with him, and if he thought that her past actions made her less than desirable, so much the better.

"You know, we need to be focusing on getting your sister back," Wyatt said, his voice deep and resonant. "Nothing else, not right now. That's the only thing that's important."

"You're right," she said. "You're so right."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Connor had never seen the sun rise over the ocean before. Sometimes, in Sea City, he would stand at his window as he felt the dawn coming on, hoping for a hint of the sun, but he never made it. He would see the sky start to lighten, and he would begin to turn to stone.

That morning, though, he put on his blocker, and watched the glory of it split the sky in all its majesty.

It made his chest hurt, it was so beautiful. The colors were so fierce and bright and amazing. He was stunned that this beauty had been kept from him for so long, and he couldn't feel anything but grateful to have seen it. Even if he had no idea why he'd been entrusted with this gift, even if he didn't trust whatever was going on with them here.

Last night, they'd landed on a tropical island. It was small, no place that Connor had ever heard of, and he had already forgotten the name because of its foreignness. The airport where they'd landed barely qualified as commercial. Unlike the airports he'd seen thus far (back in the states and landing in Belgium) this one didn't have a lot of restaurants and concourses and shuttles and parking lots. It was a tiny place, and the landing strips were grassy, not paved.

Once on the ground, they'd taken a taxi driven by an island local to a hut on the beach, which was apparently where they were staying. It was up on stilts about three feet, and it had a thatched roof. It had a hammock hanging on its rustic porch. Inside, there was only one room with three sets of bunk beds. They slept there with the windows open in the breezy warmth.

Well, the others had slept. Connor had prowled around the place. He'd lain on the hammock and looked out at the ocean, and thought about how—again—none of this made any sense. Why would a gang of vampires put them up here? Why would any of this happen? It was all positively insane.

For now, though, he simply enjoyed the sunrise.

He watched the whole thing, from the first streaks of pink in the sky until the sun had burned away the purples and blues in the sky and now just reflected over the water, yellow and cheery and bright.

Connor thought he could really get used to this daylight thing.

"Morning!" called a bright voice.

He looked over to see that Jesse was coming up the beach carrying a brown paper bag and a take-out drink carrier containing four cardboard coffee cups.

Connor surreptitiously wiped at the tears on his cheeks, which had come unbidden at the sight of the sunrise. "Jesse, I didn't hear you leave."

"Yeah, you were mesmerized," she said, grinning. "It's pretty here, huh?"

That was a very plain way to put it, but it worked, he supposed.

She climbed up onto the porch. "I went and got breakfast. Local stuff. Some kind of porridge and fish thing. It's supposed to be delicious." She set the brown paper bag down and handed Connor some coffee.

"Did I hear someone say breakfast?" Duke was in the doorway of the hut. He wasn't wearing a shirt and he was scratching his rippling stomach.

Connor couldn't help but gape at the drake. His bare chest was accented by his shimmering green scales. They hugged the underside of his pecks, they danced down the center of his stomach to his belly button. Duke was too attractive for his own good.

Jesse seemed similarly stunned. She looked Duke over, making a funny noise in the back of her throat. Then she picked up a coffee and thrust it against his chest. "Put some clothes on."

Duke laughed, taking the coffee from her. He eyed Connor, who wasn't wearing a shirt either.

Connor hated clothing. It was uncomfortable, and it was a pain trying to get his wings through the holes he had to cut in the back of shirts.

Duke sipped his coffee. "Connor's half naked, you didn't say anything about that."

"Yeah, well, it's my curse to be surrounded by annoyingly attractive men," Jesse muttered. She raised her voice. "Wyatt! Wake up and smell the coffee!" She went over to the paper bag and opened it up. She pulled out Styrofoam to-go containers and handed one to Connor and one to Duke. "Why am I the only girl, hmm? Where's the rest of my under-represented gender?"

"I'll be girly with you," said Connor, sipping his coffee. "We can talk about all things girly." He considered. "Except tampons. I don't know anything about those."

"Eew, eating here," said Duke, who was already digging into his breakfast, leaning against the post holding up the porch.

Wyatt wandered out from the hut, yawning. He was wearing a shirt, Connor noted. "Morning," said Wyatt, snatching up one of the coffees.

"So, you get specifics in town or just grub, Talon?" said Duke as he shoveled some porridge into his mouth.

Connor opened his container and sniffed. It smelled good. The porridge seemed to be made out of some kind of rice. He took a hesitant bite. Huh. Kind of like rice pudding. It was good. He ate more.

"I did," said Jesse. "You guys might have noticed the casino coming in?"

Connor hadn't noticed anything.

But Wyatt nodded. "The big building up on the hill?"

"That's the one," said Jesse. "Apparently, our contact there is a drake named Ray Stewart. He's repeatedly claimed he's not interested in selling his Kithrii crystals, but if he's on a losing gambling streak and wants cash, he'll probably make a deal if we approach him. Oh, but it's got to be you, Duke. Apparently, humans make him twitchy. He's more likely to talk to a fellow drake."

Duke licked his plastic fork. "What if he's on a winning streak?"

"Then we try again tomorrow, I guess," said Jesse.

"And the cash to buy him off? You get that?"

"It's in the bottom of the bag," said Jesse.

Duke made a face. "What if it got food on it?"

"It's in a plastic bag." Jesse stalked over and retrieved a wad of grocery-style plastic bag from the bottom of the paper bag. "See? It's fine."

"All right," said Duke. "When do we get started? Tonight?"

"Actually, he usually pulls an all-nighter at the casino," said Jesse. "So, as soon as possible, I guess. Sun's up, time to get moving."

Duke set down his Styrofoam container and stretched. "No rest for the wicked," he sighed.

* * *

Jesse, Connor, and Wyatt stood in a corner around a slot machine. Every once in a while, Jesse would peer around the machine to look across the room at Duke and Ray Stewart, who were in the middle of a long, long conversation about something. She couldn't hear from over here, and they hadn't bothered to use their ear pieces. At any rate, they were down two of them, since she and Wyatt had to ditch their tech when they were arrested. Eventually, they'd get new equipment, but it wasn't necessary yet.

Honestly, there was no reason for all four of them to be at the casino. Duke could have probably gone in on his own.

However, that wouldn't have been fair, sending Duke in to work while the rest of them lounged in their beach-front bungalow. So, Jesse hadn't even given voice to that thought. She'd packed them all up, and they'd come to the casino together.

Inside, it looked like most casinos. There weren't any windows, because letting in light allowed people to see how late or early it was getting, and that would distract them from spending money. It had deep crimson shag carpets and ornate flourishes on the trim and doorways. There were a few nods to the location, like potted palm trees in the corners and a mural of the ocean on one wall, but mostly it was a typical casino. It attempted to look classy, but came off as gauche and glitzy.

The room they were in had rows and rows of slot machines and then some tables in the corner for roulette. You had to go into another room for most of the card table games like blackjack and poker.

Duke and Ray were near one of the tables. Jesse leaned out to look in on them again.

Oh, it looked like some progress was being made.

Duke was handing over the plastic bag of cash to Ray.

Excellent. They were making the exchange, and they'd be out of here soon. Then, they could go back to the beach, and maybe wait a little bit before reporting in to Section X that they'd completed this part of the mission. They could relax a little, which they could all stand to do. There had been a lot of stress lately.

She was glad this transaction was going so smoothly. Maybe it was only because Wyatt hadn't been involved at all, although he'd promised to cool it. She would have to see how he handled the rest of the mission.

She had to admit that she didn't know what was next. All she'd been told up front was to secure Wyatt's cooperation, get the magic enhancer, get the container, and get the crystals. But she knew there was more, because she knew there was some component ahead that Wyatt would need to cooperate with. What that was, though, she couldn't say. She wasn't sure what these various objects they'd acquired were for either.

All would be revealed soon, she supposed. Or at least, whatever they needed to know to finish the mission.

And then she'd be parting ways from Wyatt, which gave her a little pang. As much as he'd made things crazy for them, she had liked having someone so powerful at her back. It did make her feel safe.

And it had nothing to do with how blue his eyes were. Nothing at all.

She popped her head back out to look at Duke and Ray. Duke was shaking hands with Ray. Now, he was turning and walking away.

"Okay, we're good," she told the others, and indicated they should move out. So as not to freak Ray out, they didn't walk with Duke, but instead let him go several paces ahead, and then walked behind him, pretending that they weren't all together.

Jesse looked around at things in the casino and made small talk with Connor about the decor, which he seemed happy to talk about. Wyatt kept his mouth shut. He probably didn't have a lot of context for it, growing up in a medieval world the way he had. She was just trying to keep up a baseline of a cover, that they were tourists at the casino, not on a secret mission for a magical black ops group.

Suddenly, Duke came to an abrupt halt.

Jesse didn't know what to do. They couldn't stop too, not without giving away that they were with Duke. But maybe it didn't matter, because maybe Ray was gone.

She turned to look in the direction where she'd seen him last. He wasn't there. But that didn't mean he might not be somewhere else, watching. She didn't know if Ray would come back for his crystals, if he'd put up a fight, if he thought that he'd been tricked or duped. If so, they could probably take him.

Wyatt could definitely take him.

But that would be showy, and this mission had been going so well thus far.

Why was Duke stopped?

Maybe that's what she needed to be concerned about.

She was still walking, but she had slowed her pace a good bit, and she had stopped making small talk. She looked in the direction where Duke was looking, and then it all became clear.

Damn.

Vin freaking Anderson. Right here in this casino. What were the odds?

Had Anderson seen them? Because if he hadn't seen Duke, then maybe there was a chance that she could bundle her partner off and avoid any kind of confrontation between the two of them.

She took off, then. Screw the cover. Screw everything except getting Duke out of there before Anderson saw them.

Too late.

Anderson had spotted Duke, and now he was striding across the casino, heading straight for them.

Duke clenched his hands into fists and started walking too.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Um, what's going on?" said Connor.

Duke had just stopped still before taking off again, walking as if he chasing the devil himself.

Jesse had taken off at a sprint, trying to get to Duke, but then she'd stopped, throwing her hands up over her head and kicking at the carpet in dismay.

"It's about that guy," said Wyatt, pointing.

Connor followed Wyatt's finger to see a man coming for Duke. The man was dressed in a crisp white dress suit with a red vest over top. He had short-cropped dark hair and a smirk on his face. "Okay, who is that?"

Wyatt just shrugged.

Connor decided they'd better get closer. He started after Duke. He went past Jesse, who reached out to grab at his arm but missed. Connor looked over his shoulder at her questioningly.

"Oh, hell," said Jesse and caught up with Connor, falling into step with him.

Wyatt caught up too.

By the time they got to Duke, the drake and the man were squaring off in the middle of the floor. Behind the man, there was a doorway to a room of tables with card games. Behind Duke was the room they'd just walked through with all the slot machines. If this had been a movie, Connor imagined there would be one of those wrap-around shots, where the camera zoomed in a circle around the two men as they seethed at each other.

Well, the man in the vest wasn't seething. He looked pretty pleased with himself. Amused and coiffed.

It was Duke who was practically panting, eyes bulging, teeth gritted, hands balled into fists. He was falling apart. Connor had never seen him like that. He remembered when Duke had been angry with Wyatt after acquiring the power enhancer. The drake had been plenty imposing then, but compared to the way he looked now, he'd been downright calm.

"Fancy meeting you here," said the man in the vest. He had a British accent, and he sounded as if he had met Duke on an afternoon stroll. Connor could imagine him tipping a top hat. "How goes it, Duke?"

"Anderson," growled Duke.

Anderson made a small bow and a flourish with one hand. He straightened, chuckling softly. "You're looking well."

Duke resembled a rabid dog. He closed the distance between himself and Anderson and took the other man by the throat. "I've been waiting for this moment," he breathed. "I'm going to crush the life out of you."

Jesse leaped onto Duke's back and scrabbled at his hands, trying to pry them away from Anderson's throat. "Duke, Duke, Duke, think about this." Her voice was a squeak.

Anderson waved his hand.

Duke sailed through the air and landed on his back on top of Jesse. Anderson had used magic on him.

Jesse grunted.

Duke scrambled off of her, not paying her a bit of attention. "Always fighting dirty, you bastard."

"This isn't the place for a physical altercation, Roland," said Anderson.

At the sound of his first name, Duke's eyes bulged. "Name the place, then."

Anderson cocked his head at Duke. "What are you doing here? You're not on vacation, are you?"

"I'm not going to give you classified information," said Duke. "What do you take me for?"

"My dear boy, our countries are allies," said Anderson. "We work together more often than not. Maybe it's something we at MI13 could help with."

"Let's keep this about us," said Duke.

MI-what? Okay, Connor watched BBC America, and he knew that British intelligence was called MI6. It was like the British CIA.

"Oh-ho, so defensive," said Anderson. "Maybe it's that drake temperament. Seems to have changed you for the worse."

Duke lunged at Anderson again.

Anderson raised a hand, holding Duke in place with magic. "Calm down, you cur."

Duke slammed a palm against his own chest. "I'll have satisfaction from you, and if you don't stop using magic against me, it's going to be duel right here, right now, you asshole."

"Um," said Jesse. "Duke? Could you just take a second here?"

Connor's mind was spinning. He thought of everything that they'd been through thus far, and tried to square it with an intelligence agency instead of a vampire gang. It was much easier to square that way. What the hell? They weren't working for a vampire gang at all, were they? So, what was that sob story about Jesse's sister, then? Why was Wyatt here?

"How about we settle this like civilized men?" said Anderson. "A card game."

"Fine," said Duke.

"High stakes," said Anderson.

"Fine," said Duke. "Whatever I've got on me."

"Duke!" said Jesse. "You have the crystals on you."

"What crystals?" said Anderson, looking delighted.

Jesse covered her face with both hands.

* * *

Jesse was losing her mind.

Anderson had just snatched the small velvet bag of crystals from Duke and was examining them. "What are these, exactly? How very, very interesting."

Jesse went over to Anderson. "Give them back. They're not part of you and Duke, they're part of a very important mission, and—as you pointed out—we are allies, so you can't compromise our mission without serious blowback from the higher-ups, so give them back and let me take Duke out of here."

Duke snatched her by the arm, tugging her away from Anderson. "Stay out of this, Talon."

Anderson laughed. "Oh, this is highly entertaining, I have to say."

"Not the crystals," said Jesse.

"Yes, the crystals," said Anderson, giving her a nasty smile as he mocked her. "If they're so important to you Yanks, maybe we Brits should know more about them." He tucked the velvet bag into the breast pocket of his vest and addressed Duke. "Five Card Draw or All For One and One for All? What's your pleasure, drake?"

Duke snarled at him. He looked like a wild animal. "Don't call me that."

"Duke, he's just trying to wind you up," said Jesse.

"Well, you are a drake, aren't you?" said Anderson.

"Yes, and whose fault is that?" said Duke.

"I would think the person driving the car would be at fault," said Anderson. "Pick your game or I'll pick it for you."

"Texas Hold 'Em," Duke said. The anger was coming off him in waves. He was in no state of mind to play poker, which was not a game of brute force or anger.

Jesse didn't know what to do. Duke had said Texas Hold 'Em because he'd heard it somewhere. She was positive he'd never played poker. One time, she'd suggested it to pass the time, and he admitted he knew nothing about the game. He was going to lose their damned crystals, and she was going to have to—

Wyatt!

She turned to find him and rushed over. She grabbed Wyatt by the hand. "Stop this."

Wyatt looked at her, surprised. "What? How?"

"I don't know, but you could do it, right? Breathe fire, subdue Duke, get the crystals back from Anderson?"

"Well, uh, I need blood to access my magic," said Wyatt. He looked around. "You think they serve that here?" He furrowed his brow. "I thought you wanted things less flashy."

She put her fingers to her lips. That was true. But it was Duke who was screwing things up now, not Wyatt, and she didn't know how to handle it. This wasn't like Duke. He was usually so professional. He never expressed emotion. This was the one thing that got to him.

God damn Anderson.

"Uh, they're gone," said Wyatt.

She whirled. "Damn it." Duke and Anderson were no longer where they had been. They'd probably gone off to find a poker table. No, no, no, this could not be happening. "You know, I'm fairly sure Duke doesn't even know what Texas Hold 'Em is."

"Do you play poker?" said Connor.

She nodded. "Yeah, I've played a time or two."

"Maybe that's the answer," said Wyatt. "You play for Duke. Get the crystals back."

"Duke would never agree to that," she said. "He's wanted revenge against Anderson for years now." She started through the archway into the room with the poker tables, looking for a sign of Duke and Anderson.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" asked Connor, coming after her. "What did Anderson do to him?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story," said Jesse. "But suffice it to say, Duke was dosed with a dice pill."

"What's a dice pill?" said Wyatt.

"You don't know about dice?" said Connor. "How can that be?"

"I don't know, there's a lot of things I don't know about," said Wyatt. "I've only been living in this world for a month or so. What is it?"

"It's a magical drug," said Jesse.

"It's made of dried dragon flesh," said Connor.

"Oh, right," said Wyatt. "I have heard of this, actually. I just didn't know if it was called dice. It's why people kill dragons in our world. Why is it called dice anyway?"

"I think it's like 'slice and dice,'" murmured Connor.

Wyatt flinched. "Geez."

Jesse didn't see Anderson or Duke anywhere. She hurried through the room, looking at table after table. Where could they have gone? They hadn't been gone that long, had they?

She came to a stop at the next archway and peered into another room on the far side. This one was full of tables too.

Connor and Wyatt caught up to her.

"So, that's how he became a drake, then?" said Wyatt. "He died with the dice in his system?"

"Duke blames Anderson," said Jesse. "He was the one who gave Duke the pill."

"Why?" said Connor.

"Well, I don't know. I think it was meant to be some sort of joke. Kind of an on-the-job razzing."

"This was when you were doing a job for the vampires?" said Wyatt.

"Right," said Connor sarcastically. "The vampires. Not the government or anything."

Jesse shot him a look. Oh, hell, Anderson had made that comment about MI13, which was the British version of Section X. Damn it all to hell. Of course Connor had figured it out from that. "Listen, I can explain later, okay?"

"The government?" said Wyatt. "What are you...?"

"Anyway," said Jesse, trying to steer the conversation back on track, "dice makes people behave erratically. It erases all fear. It makes people take crazy risks that they wouldn't otherwise take. Duke had this girl Miranda... Not his girlfriend. I don't know what you'd call her. He cared about her, that's all that's important. And she got in the car with him while he was hopped up on the drug, and they went off the side of a bridge. She died. Duke became a drake. He's hated Anderson ever since."

"Oh, wow," said Connor. "Poor Duke."

"There." Wyatt pointed at a table on the far end of the room. "There they are."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jesse headed across the room for the poker table, where Anderson and Duke were both seated. In the middle of the table was the velvet bag of crystals. Also there was a dragon tooth talisman attached to a heavy chain.

But she could see that the cards hadn't been dealt yet. The dealer was droning at the both of them, explaining the rules of Texas Hold 'Em.

Jesse put her hand on Duke's shoulder. "Let me talk to you, please."

Duke didn't look up. "You can't talk me out of this. We're going to play this game, and I can't back out. Don't worry. I won't lose the crystals." He pointed at the talisman. "Anderson put this up. He owes it back to MI13, so if I win, he's screwed."

"Say MI13 louder," she said in a terse whisper. "I'm not sure everyone in the room heard you."

Connor and Wyatt appeared next to the table, as if on cue.

Duke cringed. "Shit," he mumbled. "We're blown, huh?"

She shook her head. They'd deal with that later. If they lost these crystals to British intelligence, Steele would have their heads. "Look, Duke, when was the last time you played cards, let alone poker?"

"I got this," he said, waving her off.

"I don't think you do." She turned to Anderson. "Play me instead."

Anderson looked her over. "You? Who are you?"

She shrugged. "I'm no one. But I'm in a better emotional place than Duke is right now. You're taking advantage of his anger to try to beat him at this game, and I'm not going to let you do that."

"Talon," said Duke, "I'm going to beat him. Me."

She turned back to Duke. "Look, the important thing is that he suffers, right? You don't know a straight from a flush. Let me play."

Duke gestured to Anderson. "You think it's a great idea to talk me down in front of my opponent?"

"I asked you to talk to me somewhere else," she said.

Duke sighed. He got up from the table and they stepped away. "What is a straight?" he said in a quiet voice.

"That's it," she said. "I'm going to play him. You're going to let me."

Duke scratched the back of his head. "Damn, Jesse, he got Miranda killed. This is vengeance."

"Let me do it," she whispered. "For Miranda, okay?"

He shut his eyes. But then he nodded. "Yeah, okay. But if you lose, Talon..." He put his finger in her face.

"I won't." She took a deep breath and went back to Anderson. She slid into the chair that Duke had vacated.

"What if I don't accept this substitution?" said Anderson.

"Well," said Jesse, folding her arms over her chest, "you can either play me, or you and Duke can have a fight to the death on the beach. Humans are a lot easier to kill than drakes."

Anderson pressed his lips together, considering. Then he nodded. "You do have a point. Very well, playing you instead of Duke is acceptable."

Jesse smiled, a hard smile. "Great, then." She turned to the dealer. "Let's get this game going."

The dealer, who was acting very much as if he wasn't the least bit interested in what was going on, but was obviously secretly intrigued, only nodded. He dealt out two cards to each of them, face down. "One chip ante."

Right, okay, so Jesse knew that they had to bet on their cards first, and they were apparently required to put down a chip. But she didn't have any chips. "Ante's already there," said Jesse, gesturing to the middle of the table.

"Let's make it bit more interesting," said Anderson. "Besides, I'm sure this gentleman isn't going to be pleased with our using the facility and not buying in."

Jesse rolled her eyes. "All right, fine." She reached into her pocket and got out her wallet.

"Hey, it's cool, I got this," said Duke, stepping in front of her. "I'll buy in for the chips."

"Thanks," she said, putting her wallet away.

Duke got that squared away.

Jesse slid out her obligatory chip, and then realized that she hadn't looked at her cards. Great. She should do that. She peeked at them. The king of hearts and the two of spades. Well, there was nothing there at all. She'd have to hope she could make something with the cards dealt, but Anderson could use any of those too, so things were not looking good.

"I'll raise it five chips," said Anderson, sliding his chips out.

Seriously? This was the first damned bet. Jesse wanted to glare at him, but she couldn't give anything away. He was watching to figure out what her hand was.

"I'll see that," she said, "and raise you two more chips."

Anderson smiled.

She smiled.

"I remember you, actually," said Anderson. "Aren't you the plucky little teenager who blew up an entire city block?"

She forced herself not to react, even though his words opened up deep, deep wounds. "Well, that was a long time ago. Imagine what I could blow up now."

Anderson chuckled.

The dealer lay down the first set of shared cards, the flop. They were set down face up between Anderson and Jesse. Each of them could use them, in addition to the cards they'd been dealt, to form their hand.

Jesse kept herself steady as they were revealed, not wanting to give anything away.

It wasn't too bad. Jack of hearts, two of clubs, ace of diamonds.

She wished she could use the ace, but she didn't have anything that matched that suit. But she had a pair now. A pair of twos, sure, which wasn't ideal, but it was something. Also, the jack and the king were the same suit, and if she got a queen, then that and a pair, well, it wasn't shabby.

"Your action," said the dealer said the dealer to Jesse.

Another round of betting now. She eyed Anderson. Well, no reason to let him think she was sweating. She tapped her chips and then slid out five more. "See that and raise four," she said.

"I see that," said Anderson, sliding out his chips.

She eyed him. He hadn't raised her? Should she read into that? Well, it was only the second round of betting. Maybe she should just sit tight.

"Good?" asked the dealer, eyeing her.

She nodded. "Good."

The dealer dealt a fourth card, the turn. King of diamonds.

Anderson smiled.

She made herself smile too. Damn it, damn it, damn it. What if Anderson had the queen of diamonds? Ace, king, queen? Maybe he had a jack in there too, the makings of the best hand in poker, a royal flush?

No way, he couldn't.

Anyway, she needed to focus on the fact that she was not doing too badly here right now. She had two pair, and one of her pairs was a pair of kings. That wasn't exactly riding high, but it wasn't shit. Unfortunately, she knew that Anderson had all the same center cards as she did. What the hell?

It was time for another round of betting. She doled out two chips.

"I see that," said Anderson, pushing out his chips. "And, I raise two."

"I see that," said Jesse, annoyed, but not showing it. What kind of hand did he have? Damn it, if she lost these crystals, she was going to have no one to blame but herself. She pushed out two more chips.

"Good?" said the dealer.

"Good," said Jesse.

The dealer turned to Anderson.

"Good," said Anderson.

The dealer turned over the final card, the river.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jesse held her breath. And then let it back out again.

King of spades.

She let the breath out slowly, trying to keep herself in check. A full house. Three of a kind and a pair. Not bad. Not bad at all. Now, what did Anderson have?

She studied him, but he was expressionless.

"Place your final bets," said the dealer.

She chewed on her lip. She had exactly five chips left. She could bet them all and that would clean her out, but if she did that, he might raise, and then it would be a shit show trying to buy more chips. Besides, the money didn't matter. Only the crystals did.

Maybe she should go all in. Maybe that would make her look confident in her hand, and maybe he'd fold under pressure.

Somehow, she didn't think Anderson was the kind to fold. Nah, Anderson was going to stay in this game, even if he had nothing except the pair of kings that they both had.

She slid out three of her chips.

"I'll see that," said Anderson. "And raise you whatever you have left there."

She smiled tersely. "All in, then." She put in her final chips.

The dealer waited.

She looked at Anderson's face-down cards. She looked at her own. She looked back at the cards in the middle, the ones they shared. Her heart was starting to pound. If Anderson beat her, she was going to have to try to convince him to play her another round to win back the crystals. Either that, or they were going to have to find Wyatt some blood so that he could burn Anderson to a crisp.

She glanced up at Anderson.

Anderson was already looking at her. Was that a faint smile on his lips? A smug smile?

Oh, hell, he had a really great hand, didn't he?

Jesse's experience with poker stretched all the way back to high school, and she'd never been that good at it back then. The idea of a poker face, or the various intricacies of the way the game was played—that stuff wasn't anything she'd ever delved into. No, she'd played for pennies and nickels with her boyfriend and a few of his friends, every day in the cafeteria at lunch.

Some people had boyfriends that played sports or musical instruments, but Jesse had a poker boyfriend. It was his favorite thing on earth, and when they weren't making out, which she remembered they did a lot of, then he was talking to her about poker. Or he was watching poker on TV. Or he was playing poker games online.

And he wasn't one of those gamblers with an addiction, not exactly. He was really smart about the game, and he aspired to be a professional poker player, which he told her was all about knowing when not to win as much as how to win all the time. Professional poker players didn't want to stand out. They wanted to come in, make some cash and then get out. They didn't chase big scores. They made the money they needed to live and that was that. Her boyfriend said that it was a job that required a lot of self-control, but it was a great lifestyle.

He would be able to make his own hours and do what he loved for money.

Jesse wondered if he'd ever made it. She had never even had a chance to say goodbye to him before she'd been swept off by Section X after the incident. His name had been Breckan. Breckan Warner. He'd been a nice guy, a good high school boyfriend.

But anyway, as much as he'd taught her about poker, he hadn't really prepared her for a high-stakes game like this. It was all or nothing. Not like the way he wanted to play poker, winning a few games here and there and then fading out when it seemed as though his luck was changing.

Still, she thought that Breckan might have some kind of idea whether Anderson were bluffing or not. She wished that she did, but she was clueless.

"Good?" said the dealer.

Jesse's palms were moist. "Good," she said, and her voice didn't sound as strong as she'd like.

"Good," said Anderson, a knowing lilt in his tone.

Jesse's pulse pounded against her temple, her wrist. She flipped her cards over. "Full house," she said.

Anderson's expression didn't change. He tapped his face-down cards with one finger.

Jesse's pulse beat even harder. Show your damned cards, Anderson.

Anderson flipped them over. "How about two out of three?" he said.

She looked at his cards. He had the king of clubs and the ten of spades. Three of a kind.

A full house beat three of a kind.

She'd won.

A grin split her face and she gathered up the crystals and the chips and his talisman from the middle of the table. "Pleasure, Anderson." She stood up.

"Wait," said Anderson. "You can't take that." He pointed to the talisman. "I have to have that back."

Duke sneered at him. "You lost, jackass. Deal with it."

* * *

Back in the bungalow, Connor and Wyatt stood on the porch while Jesse and Duke talked in strained but hushed tones inside. Jesse wasn't pleased with Duke, and Duke was defending himself.

But Connor didn't care so much about that. He wanted to make sense of what they'd found out. Jesse and Duke didn't work for a vampire gang. Instead, they worked for some kind of secret intelligence group, and so did this Anderson person. "It makes sense," he was saying. "The sun blocker and the private plane and the passports. Of course some kind of intelligence agency could do that. But you know what doesn't make sense? Why we're here."

Wyatt was gazing out at the ocean, arm wrapped around the post on the porch. He looked confused. "So, they lied to us. Jesse lied to us."

"Yes," said Connor. "But why? What's the point of that?"

"They were probably trying to keep their cover," said Wyatt. "They can't run around telling everyone they're spies."

"Fine," said Connor. "Sure. She tells you a cover story. But then why bring us along?"

"Well, I asked," said Wyatt. "But I guess... no, that doesn't make sense. She shouldn't have let me come with them. And definitely not you. You shouldn't be here."

"No," said Connor. "I shouldn't. There's something more going on, something we don't understand, and we have to make them explain it to us now."

"They're probably going to dump us back home," said Wyatt, shaking his head. "Now that we know the truth..."

"We don't know the truth," said Connor. "That's what I'm saying. We don't know anything."

"Right, no, I know." Wyatt sighed. "I'm such a sucker, huh?"

"What? Don't say that."

"Well, you realized something was off," said Wyatt. "You kept asking questions. But I just went with it. Hell, I made it work. I provided explanations that fit within the lies she'd told me. Why was I so stupid?"

"You're not stupid." Connor went over and put an hand on Wyatt's shoulder. "You don't know anything about this world. You can't expect yourself to be super savvy right away. And besides, you like Jesse."

Wyatt turned to look inside the bungalow. "Yeah, well, that's the stupidest part of all of it. Here I was, thinking that maybe, once we'd gotten her sister back, things could be different between me and her. But I bet she doesn't even have a sister. And it's her job. It's never going to be over."

"Sorry, Wyatt." Connor patted his shoulder.

"Don't," Wyatt said. He gently shook Connor off. "I think I'm going to go for a walk."

"Hey, it's okay," said Connor. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I just need a little time alone," said Wyatt. He descended the steps from the porch onto the beach.

"Let me come with you," called Connor.

Wyatt stopped and glanced at him. "You do know what alone means?"

Connor's shoulders slumped. "Okay, but be careful."

Wyatt nodded. He gave Connor a mock salute, and then he trudged off down the beach.

Connor watched until Wyatt was out of sight. And then he sat down and tried to think this through. Why would Jesse let Wyatt come along?

She wouldn't. When he'd called after her, begged to be part of it, she should have shut him down and gotten free of him.

Of course, why had she come to offer him an explanation at all? If she was a spy letting off steam in some Sea City bar, then she didn't have a reason to see Wyatt again.

Unless...

Maybe she'd meant for Wyatt to come along. But why?

"Where's Wyatt?"

Connor jumped. He got to his feet and put a hand to his fluttering chest.

Jesse was standing in the doorway of the bungalow. "He didn't go for a swim or something, did he?"

"You scared the hell out of me," said Connor.

"Sorry."

"Wyatt went for a walk. He said he needed to be alone."

"Why? Is he okay?"

"I think he's adjusting to the idea that you and Duke are spies."

Jesse's lips parted. She looked at Connor for several beats, gathering herself. "Right. I forgot. Damned Anderson blew our cover."

"Well, to be fair, you weren't doing a very good job of keeping it intact yourself," said Connor. "I was pretty close to figuring it out already. But what I want to know is why we're here."

She sighed. "I'm going after Wyatt."

"It's about him, right?" said Connor. "You need him for something? Is it because he's the blood dragon?"

She climbed down the steps.

"Hey, answer me!" called Connor after her.

She looked up at him. "Which way did Wyatt go?"

"What do you want Wyatt for?"

"I don't actually know why Section X wants him," she said. "Only that we need his cooperation for this mission."

"And me?"

"You're here to keep Wyatt happy," she said.

Connor pursed his lips.

"Which way?"

Connor pointed.

"Thanks," she said, and took off.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jesse found Wyatt perched on a cluster of rocks that jutted up out of the sand. He had a piece of sea grass in one hand. He was winding it around and around his finger and looking out over the ocean.

He didn't see her approach. He was too caught up in his thoughts.

Jesse hesitated, not getting his attention quite yet. What the hell was she going to tell him?

At this point, she supposed, she'd simply have to tell him the truth. As much of it as she knew, anyway. "Wyatt?" she said in a soft voice.

His gaze snapped from the water to her. "Jesse."

She started to climb up the rocks toward him.

"Or is that even really your name?"

"It's my name," she said. "It's really hard to condition yourself to respond to a name that isn't yours. It's best to stick to things that are similar." She reached him and sat down opposite him, on another rock.

"And I guess you don't have a sister?"

"No," she said. "Listen, I'm sorry that I lied to you, but I didn't know what else to do. My original mission was to try to seduce you and secure your cooperation, but it wasn't working."

He blinked at her. "What?" he said in a soft voice.

"I, um, I said that—"

"No, you don't have to repeat it." He tossed aside the sea grass and stared down at his feet. "So, I, um... I was a job? I was another Ainsworth?"

Oh, crap. She had screwed this up yet again. She'd hurt him. She hadn't thought that he would be so affected by the news, but now she realized that of course he would. "No, I don't think of you like Ainsworth. It wasn't like that."

"Right, because you were just supposed to distract Ainsworth. But you were supposed to... to fuck me." His tone had gone harsh.

She tried to put her hand on his knee, but he evaded her. "Wyatt—"

"Right?" He looked up at her, and his expression seared her. "I mean, it's not like you didn't try hard enough."

"Wyatt, look, that doesn't mean that I don't, you know, like you, because I do."

He thrust both hands into his hair and let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Great. Thanks. That's, um, very reassuring."

"I messed this all up. I shouldn't have told you—"

"No, by all means, keep lying to me," he said. "That's perfect, do that. Hell, I'll believe you. Apparently, I'll believe anything. I'm really a colossal moron."

"You're not." She tried to touch him again.

He stood up. "No, I guess not. You're just very good at your job."

She bit down on her lip. "Don't be this way. This mission is all about you, and we need you to be on board to help us. That was the whole point of everything."

"Of trying to sleep with me and then making up some sad story about your poor sister?" He chuckled in disbelief. "You acted like you didn't even want my help. You made me beg to come along. You played me like a violin."

She didn't say anything.

He nodded. "You are good, Jesse. Really, really good. Hell, you should get a raise." He started to climb down the rocks away from her.

"Wyatt, wait," she said.

He kept going.

She thought about calling after him again, but didn't know what to say. So, she just watched him go.

Eventually, she turned back to the ocean, and gazed off into the horizon. She felt like hell. She hadn't meant to hurt Wyatt, especially when she did like him. Maybe more than liked him. Maybe what Duke had accused her of before was true. Maybe she was attracted to Wyatt. Maybe she even had feelings for him.

Not that it mattered now.

It was funny that she'd been thinking of Breckan earlier, because Breckan was her first and last real relationship. Everything since then had been tainted by one thing or another. Even when she was on long missions and could date to preserve her cover, it wasn't actually real. She knew it would end.

She wasn't allowed to date other agents, and they were the only people who knew the truth about her.

If she wanted to date someone on the outside, she'd have to lie to them about who she was. And she didn't have time for that, anyway. She was always working.

Besides, her job demanded that she flirt with and kiss and sometimes have sex with men, and so she'd always be unfaithful, always be lying about her activities.

She took a deep breath, looking out at the place where the water met the sky. Her breath hitched.

But there was no point in lamenting it. This was her life, and there was no way out of it. She knew that.

* * *

Connor stood in the doorway of the bungalow. "You going to answer my questions?"

Duke was sitting on one of the bunk beds, head bowed. "What questions?"

"Why Wyatt? What do you want with him? Jesse said she didn't know, and I don't believe that."

"We don't know." Duke stood up, his gaze traveling over the gargoyle. "They tell us as much as we need to know, nothing more. We don't need to know why we need Wyatt, so they don't tell us. All we know is that we need him."

"Who are they?"

"They're Section X," said Duke.

"That didn't really answer the question."

"They're a covert organization that works for the government and intervenes in cases involving magical creatures," said Duke. "They deal with both domestic and foreign relations."

"And you work for them."

Duke nodded. "Since they recruited me young, yeah. And I'm telling you that a lot of times, there are just questions, no answers. So, don't think you can keep niggling me about Wyatt, and I'm going to give it all away, because I don't know what they want with him."

"But you trust them?"

"Yeah, they're on the right side," said Duke. "They're the good guys."

Connor snorted.

"We wouldn't hurt Wyatt," said Duke. "We need him."

"And I'm just part of the package?"

"Hey, you've been useful," said Duke.

He raised his eyebrows. "How, exactly?"

"Well..." Duke thought about it. "You did pick the lock."

Connor laughed softly. "Yeah, I did that all by myself."

The drake shrugged, looking self-conscious. "Okay, well, you could do it by yourself. I can tell things about you. You've had to defend yourself before. There's more to you than appears."

Connor folded his arms over his chest. "Why are you saying stuff like this? Is there some reason you act the way you do around me? I guess Jesse's cozied up to Wyatt. Are you supposed to cozy up to me?"

"Cozy up?" Duke laughed a little. "What do you mean by that?"

"Flirt with?" said Connor.

"Hey," said Duke, "I would not say that I—"

"Right, because you're straight," said Connor. "I mean, I guess this girlfriend of yours, Jesse's supposed sister, is made up. But I've seen the way you look at Jesse. And she told us what Anderson did, and it involved a girl. So, all I can figure is that you're playing me somehow. And I would honestly rather you stop."

Duke rubbed his forehead. "Okay."

"Okay? Like, you were ordered by Section X to get close to me?"

"No, I wasn't..." Duke scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor. "I guess, um, you don't maybe find me, uh, appealing? Maybe you're not into drakes?"

"You're insanely hot," said Connor. "Don't be ridiculous. But I spent enough time in high school working myself up in knots over straight boys who weren't doing a thing to encourage me. Last thing I need is you messing with my head."

"Right," said Duke. "So, you're not opposed to it, it's just that you don't want it if it's not real?"

"Why are you making this into a thing?"

Duke sauntered across the bungalow. He stopped inches from Connor. The drake's gaze flitted from Connor's lips to his eyes and then back again.

And then Duke was kissing him.

Connor sputtered, pushing him off. "Were we having the same fucking conversation?"

Duke rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. "I'm not straight."

"Please. I've seen the way you look at Jesse's ass."

"I swing pretty hard," said Duke. He stepped close again, putting his hand around the back of Connor's neck. "Look, stop me again, I'll back off. And I should say up front that I'm a spy, and nothing with me is really real, ever, because I can't exactly have a lasting relationship." He pressed his lips against Connor's again.

Connor shut his eyes. Duke had thick, soft lips, and Connor hadn't been kissed in... well, a while.

Duke rested his forehead against Connor's, and his hand traced a line down the gargoyle's chest. He settled his fingers over Connor's zipper. "So, it wouldn't be real. It would be just for fun. But I've had a shit morning, and I could sure as hell use the distraction."

Connor made a funny noise in the back of his throat.

Duke started to unzip him. "Last chance to stop me."

Connor didn't stop him.

* * *

Connor flopped back, resting his head against Duke's thigh. The drake's head was at the other end of the bed, and their limbs were entangled as they both panted. Ebbs of goodness were floating away from the gargoyle like the tide. When he'd come into this bungalow, the last thing he'd suspected was that he'd end up sixty-nining Duke on one of these bunks.

But, hell, he would take it.

A noise from the porch, steps groaning under someone's weight.

Duke sat up right away. He got up off the bed and put himself back together.

Connor followed his lead.

They were both standing, and they were both completely covered, when Wyatt stepped into the bungalow.

"Wyatt," said Connor. "Um, how long you been outside?"

"I've been walking," said Wyatt. He looked from Connor to Duke and then back to Connor. "What's wrong with you guys?"

"Nothing," said Duke.

"Nothing," said Connor.

Wyatt nodded slowly. "Right."

Connor crossed the room to pat Wyatt on the back. "How are you doing?" Admittedly, he felt a little weird, post-orgasmic with Wyatt here. It was wrong. All wrong. But he couldn't do anything about that, so he decided to ignore the wrong feelings.

"I'm fine," said Wyatt. "I just, uh, I guess I didn't think through all the implications of you two being secret agents or whatever." He eyed Duke. "You know, if you would have come clean to me, told me you needed my help, I would have accepted."

"No, because you don't know what they want your help with," said Connor. "And they don't know either."

"But you're a stand-up guy," said Duke. "You'd do what you had to in service of your country. I believe you. I don't make the assignments."

Wyatt cocked his head to one side. "You bring up a good point, Connor. I don't know why I'm here." He turned to Duke. "Jesse said you needed me, but thus far, I've done fuck all except draw unwanted attention to us."

"True," said Duke. "I have no idea what it's all about."

"Okay, so who does?" said Wyatt. "I want to talk to that person."

Duke nodded. "Okay. I'll see what I can do." He dug out his phone and went onto the porch.

Connor went to the door to listen.

Duke was rattling off a string of numbers and letters into the phone.

"What is he saying?" said Wyatt.

"Some kind of password?" said Connor.

"Jesse didn't come back here?" said Wyatt.

Connor shook his head.

Duke was talking into the phone. "I need to speak to Steele right away. It's important."

"Maybe I'll just go out there and take the phone from him," said Wyatt in a low voice.

"Don't be an idiot," said Connor. "Let him do whatever he's doing."

"Wait, you trust him?" said Wyatt. "Because when I left here, you were all about how they had lied to us. Now, we should just let Duke do 'whatever he's doing'?"

Connor felt himself flush. "Well, they seem to be telling us the truth now, so..."

"Whatever." Wyatt shoved his hands into his pockets.

They were quiet.

The sound of Duke's conversation trickled in from the front door. "...yeah, Talon's cover story is blown, Steele.... No, no, we got the crystals fine. Everything's set up. But, uh, well, Flint isn't pleased about being lied to and manipulated. He wants answers, and we don't have them.... Sure.... Sure.... Okay." Duke hung up the phone.

Wyatt went to the doorway. "Well? What the hell was that?"

"Uh, she's sending someone to pick you up," said Duke.

"She?"

"Morgan Steele," said Duke. "Operations at Section X."

"That doesn't help me with anything," said Wyatt. "Hell, for all I know—" He stopped talking because there was the sound of a helicopter coming in overhead.

"That was fast," muttered Duke. He raised an eyebrow at Wyatt. "Steele doesn't want to let you get away, I guess."

"What? I'm just supposed to get on this helicopter?" said Wyatt. "How do I know I'm not going to get dumped into the ocean from thirty-five thousand feet?"

"Can't you shift into a dragon or something?" said Duke.

"Only if I've got blood in my system," said Wyatt.

"You can drink my blood," said Connor, smiling at him. "If it comes to that. But you have to save me too."

Wyatt sighed. "All right, I guess you're coming with me, then, Connor."

"I did promise your parents," said the gargoyle.

"I'll stay here and wait for Jesse," said Duke. "You two have fun."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The helicopter ride was long, and they couldn't really speak during the ride because the sound of the propellers drowned everything out. They went over the ocean and over land. Eventually, they set down in the middle of a field on a square piece of asphalt that seemed to be a helicopter pad. They got out, escorted by armed men in military-looking outfits.

Next to the helicopter pad, there was a trap door that opened in the field. They descended a set of steps, deep underground.

The walls were made of concrete and the steps poured concrete as well. Connor wondered if they were being taken into a bunker or an underground tomb. Down here, no one would hear them scream. Maybe he should have given Wyatt some of his blood already, as a preemptive measure. After all, were they really going to be able to react quickly if these men started shooting them?

But the men hadn't tried to take their talismans or even looked for weapons. Maybe it was going to be okay. Connor felt a little nervous, though, that their uniforms were so nondescript. They weren't clearly part of any branch of the military, nor did their allegiance to any country seem apparent. Maybe they were really only hired mercenaries. Maybe they were in danger.

These thoughts didn't stop him from descending the steps, however.

Eventually, the steps changed. The walls were no longer concrete, but covered in drywall, painted a cream color. The steps were covered in cream and brown tile.

They came to a metal door, and one of the men bent over so that a scanner could scan his retina.

The door beeped loudly and then clicked open.

They all trooped through it.

Now, they were in a nondescript hallway, which looked like something in an office building. There were doors lining the hallway. The walls were painted that same creamy color. The only touch of anything warm was a potted plant in one corner, right next to the water fountain.

The men gestured for Connor and Wyatt to follow them and took off down the hallway at a good clip.

Connor had to stretch his legs to keep up. These guys weren't ones for a gentle stroll.

Connor was looking around as they walked, not that there was much to see. Every time they turned a corner, they were in a hallway that resembled the last one. Sometimes, they could see in through windows in the doors or though open doorways.

Connor caught a glimpse of something that looked like a laboratory, rows of test tubes on the wall behind glass. He also saw a room that looked like a gym, floor covered in mats, exercise equipment against the walls. But in the center of the room, two people looked to be sparring. A woman was aiming a roundhouse kick at a man's head.

And they walked by all of it too fast to really see any of it or to make sense of it.

Eventually, they stopped outside a door that had a sign on it reading, Operations, Morgan Steele.

One of the men knocked on the door, and then all the military-looking guys moved into lines on either side of the door, standing stiffly at attention.

The door opened, and a woman stepped out. She was striking, with large green eyes and curly red hair that fell around her shoulders. She wore a black pants suit with a green shirt beneath it. She nodded at the man who'd knocked on the door.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Brooks," she said. To all of the men, "At ease."

The men moved into their at-ease position nearly in unison.

The woman smiled at Connor and Wyatt. "Wyatt Flint, how good to meet you at last. I'm Morgan Steele." She offered him her hand.

Wyatt shook hands with her, but stiffly. Connor could see that Wyatt was a long way from comfortable.

"Will you come into my office please?" said Steele. "Both of you." She nodded at Connor.

But I don't warrant a hand shake, Connor noted.

And then Steele offered Connor her hand.

Connor shook it and decided to try to keep an open mind. They were here to get answers. Maybe this woman had them.

Wyatt had already stepped inside Steele's office.

Connor followed him.

She shut the door behind them.

The office was spacious. There was no window, but the far wall was composed entirely of screens, which projected an image of a rushing waterfall, birds flying above it and calling to each other in the surrounding forest. Was it meant to be peaceful? The crash of the water seemed the opposite of that. She had a large desk with a thin-screened monitor on top. To the left of the desk was a sitting area, a small couch and two easy chairs. In the center was a coffee table.

"Please," said Steele, gesturing to the easy chairs.

Wyatt glanced at Connor, who shrugged. Wyatt took a seat. Connor did too.

Steele sat down opposite them, on the couch. She crossed her legs. She was wearing spike heels that had to be at least three inches high. "I'm so glad you could stop by," she said, as if they'd just popped in on their lunch break. "How are you?"

Wyatt leaned forward. "Listen, lady, no offense, but I'm here for answers, not small talk. I was recruited to be part of a top secret mission, and no one knows why, including the agents who recruited me. So, what's that all about?"

"Yes, well, Mr. Flint, it's all very delicate," she said. "We haven't let out the information that we have to anyone, because we are afraid of causing a panic. Even amongst our agents, there are certain kinds of threats that are too dire to be broadcast."

"What kind of threats?" said Wyatt.

"Well, the apocalypse for example," said Steele, smiling.

"Wait, what?" said Connor. "You're saying that the apocalypse is coming?"

"What's that got to do with me?" said Wyatt.

Steele folded her hands in her lap. "We're hoping it won't be apocalyptic, actually. We hope to stop it. And if we could have done so without you, Mr. Flint, we would have."

"You need me to stop the apocalypse?" said Wyatt.

"Yes," said Steele.

Wyatt sat back in his chair. "Well, why didn't you just say so? Why all the subterfuge? Why Jesse Talon trying to get in my pants?"

"I apologize, Mr. Flint. This situation is very volatile. We were afraid of scaring you off if we overplayed our hand. And you were too important to lose."

"I don't get it," said Wyatt. "What's so special about me?"

"I thought you knew about this," said Steele. "You're the blood dragon. Your very birth was a miracle. You have always been destined for great things."

Wyatt ran his forefinger over the arm of the chair he sat in. "Not anymore. I was destined to fight the Green King. But he's dead and gone."

"Is he really?" said Steele.

Wyatt sat forward. "What are you saying?"

"About three months ago, something happened," said Steele. "There was a powerful ripple of magic that was felt by our most attuned psychics and mages. We didn't know what it was, but we followed the clues and did research, and we discovered that the ripple was created when your powers were shifted back to you from your father."

Wyatt rubbed his chin. "I don't remember that happening. For me, that was twenty years ago."

"Yes, we're aware of all that," said Steele. "And your being imprisoned in Dractera is not important. It's convenient, I suppose, because otherwise, you would have been a toddler and incapable of facing this threat."

"What threat?"

"Well, that ripple dislodged something. We began to feel the power of the Green King rising. It doesn't seem that he himself is alive, but his power is growing. You see, if your power is growing within you, then the universe must have balance. The Green King's power must rise to meet yours. And that is what is happening."

Wyatt rubbed his forehead. "Okay, well, that sounds bad."

"It is, but we have discovered a ritual that can be done which will extract the Green King's power and contain it. The mission that Talon and Duke have been on has been procuring what we need to complete that ritual. You are one of the things we need. An integral part, in fact."

"I don't know," said Wyatt. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to be messing around with the power of the Green King."

"Once we've contained it in the container you procured, we can destroy it," said Steele. "Apocalypse averted."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "I see."

"So, what do you say, Mr. Flint? Will you help us?"

Wyatt nodded. "I will."

* * *

"Hey, there you are."

Jesse turned from the rocks, where she was still sitting. Duke was coming across the beach towards her. He waved. She turned and waved back. She got up and began to climb down from the rocks. They met each other at the base of the rocks.

"So, uh, we're officially the crappiest agents ever at maintaining our cover," said Duke.

"It's my fault," said Jesse. "He was never supposed to be with us. He was supposed to be back in Sea City, ready to lend a hand when we needed him. I went off script. I did this."

"You did the best you could," said Duke. "And it's my fault too. I'm the one who lost it when we ran into Anderson this morning."

She nodded. "That was reckless of you."

"I'm sorry," said Duke.

"It's okay," she said. "After what happened with Miranda... I mean, how could you not be furious with him? How could you not want to kill him?"

Duke nodded, looking down at his feet. "Well, we're supposed to be able to control ourselves, though. We're Section X agents."

"Right." She sighed.

They were quiet.

"Wyatt's pissed," she said. "He's hurt, and he hates me."

"For what?" Duke looked truly confused.

"He said something about how he was like Ainsworth. I think that's what got to him the most. Not so much that I was pretending to be interested in him, but that he was the equivalent of Ainsworth. He thinks of those men as taking advantage of me, and Wyatt wants to hold himself to a higher standard."

"Yeah," said Duke. "Or maybe it was like I said. He had a thing for you, and when he found out you didn't crush on him back, he couldn't handle it."

"Maybe," she said.

"So, that why you've been out here by yourself all this time? Wyatt?" His tone was sharp.

She sighed. Maybe she didn't even want to continue this conversation. She pushed past Duke and headed up the beach, back towards the bungalow.

"You do have a crush on him, then?"

She flipped off Duke without looking at him.

From behind her came the sound of his rich chuckle.

"Where the hell is Wyatt anyway?" she said. "Sulking somewhere?"

Duke caught up to her. He slung an arm over her shoulders companionably. "Steele sent a chopper for him. I assume she had him taken back to headquarters."

"Seriously?" Jesse looked up at Duke.

He grinned down at her. "Seriously."

Her breath caught in her throat, the way it did sometimes when she was close to Duke. Damn everything for being so freaking confusing.

"I think she's going to offer him a job at Section X," said Duke. "Which means that he'll be just as off limits as I am."

She shoved Duke's arm off her shoulders. "I do not have a crush on Wyatt."

"Good," said Duke. "I think you should stay away from the guy. He's too powerful for his own good. He strikes me as way too immature for that much firepower. He'll get you killed."

She rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself." She picked up the pace.

Duke matched it. "What's your hurry?"

"Well, I guess we have to get back to headquarters, right? That's why you came to get me."

"Yeah," said Duke. "But they're not sending us a helicopter."

"Figures," she said. "We're not top priority. We're probably in deep shit, actually."

Duke grimaced. "Probably."

* * *

Jesse and Duke had to wait for a crappy little plane to fly them back to the mainland, where they then sat for hours before getting on a commercial flight back to the vicinity of headquarters. Then they had to rent a car and drive themselves there.

By the time they got back, they were exhausted, but their orders were to report directly to Steele.

Jesse wanted nothing more than a shower and a couple hours' nap. Wasn't happening. As they walked through the hallways of Section X, she tried to pull her hair into a bun on top of her head. She kept missing strands in the back and having to start over.

"What are you doing?" said Duke.

"Just want to look presentable for Steele," said Jesse. "You know how she is." Steele had this idea that agents should be ready to work all the time, and part of working was looking the part. A sloppy appearance was a black mark, and they had enough black marks already.

"You look fine," said Duke. "Better than fine. I like your hair down, anyway."

"Whatever. Steele doesn't share your sentiments. And you get off easy, because you're an incredibly attractive man, and she's susceptible to your charms."

Duke grinned at her. "Incredibly attractive, huh?"

She elbowed him. "You know what I mean."

"I have charms?"

"I hate you," she told him.

He just chuckled.

When they got to Steele's office, they knocked, and there was an answer from inside. "Just a moment."

They waited.

And waited.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Steele finally opened the door.

Jesse knew that this was all part of the consequences for thoroughly screwing up their mission. Steele wanted to make them squirm. Damned if it wasn't working.

Steele greeted them with smiles and courtesy and ushered them inside the office. Sometimes, Steele would have them all sit down on the couches and chairs in her office, but not this time. Instead, she sat down behind her desk and left them standing. This was another message.

Jesse felt like sending her own message, maybe by flipping Steele off.

But Duke caught her eye and shook his head.

Jesse made faces at the floor.

"I assume that if I check into Acquisitions, all the targets acquired from the mission have been properly cataloged?"

"Steele, we didn't want to keep you waiting, busy woman that you are," said Jesse with just a hint of irony in her tone. "We came directly to you, didn't go anywhere else."

If Steele noticed Jesse's insouciance, she didn't let on. "So, you haven't been to Acquisitions yet?"

"No," said Duke. "But we'll go straight away after this meeting."

"See that you do," said Steele. "If you haven't turned in the targets, does that mean you have them with you?"

"Actually, yes," said Jesse. She had everything in her bag. She handed the bottle of power enhancer, the container, and the velvet bag of crystals over to Steele.

Steele examined each of them with visible delight. "Oh, very good. Very, very good. You've both done an excellent job." Steele beamed at them.

Huh. Okay, that was weird. Because Steele should be angry with them. Why was she complimenting them?

Steele seemed to realize she was giving the wrong reaction. She stowed away the objects in Jesse's bag and handed them back across the desk. "But acquiring the targets is the only thing you were successful at."

Which was all that really mattered in the end, right?

"You were both very sloppy with this mission," said Steele. "I'm disappointed in you both. You usually do a much better job. Do you have any idea why things went so badly?"

"Look, we got what we wanted, right?" Jesse put her hands on her hips. "I don't see what the big deal is."

Steele turned to her. "Well, I think that Wyatt Flint was mishandled. You were supposed to get close to him, make him trust you. Instead, he hates you, Talon. Flint is necessary to complete the mission. You, however, are not, Talon. You're out."

"Wait, what?" said Jesse. "Out of the mission? But I've been on this mission since the beginning. I want to see it through."

Steele shrugged. "You should have made an ally of Flint instead of an enemy."

"Hold on, that's a little harsh," said Duke.

"Duke, I don't need to hear from you on this," said Steele, dismissing him without looking at him. She focused on Jesse. "Perhaps I share some of the blame. I thought he would find you appealing, but maybe I chose wrong."

"You didn't," said Jesse. "He did find me appealing, but that wasn't the way to go after him. We needed to play to his nobility, not to his baser instincts. That's what I attempted to do."

"Except it backfired when he found out that you were anything but noble," said Steele.

Jesse's shoulders slumped. Steele wasn't wrong.

"At any rate, he won't work with you, so that's all there is to it."

"He won't work with me?" said Jesse. "He said that?"

Steele turned to Duke. "How comfortable are you working with a different agent? If you aren't comfortable, I'll assign another team entirely."

Duke hesitated.

Jesse used that space of time to speak again. "Let me talk to Wyatt. I'm sure if he and I clear the air, he'll be willing to let me part of the mission."

Steele shrugged. "I don't know about that. But I suppose if you convince him to allow you to be part of the mission, then that would make things easier. It'll be work briefing another agent."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jesse knocked at Wyatt's door. He'd been assigned a suite, just like all the agents at Section X had. He was a full-fledged agent, apparently, and so was Connor. The both of them were going to be working on this mission, and it was all very official.

Wyatt didn't answer right away, and she wondered if he was there or if he was sleeping or something.

She hadn't had a chance to sleep, but she had taken the time to take a shower, eat something, and make herself look presentable. She figured she'd do a better job pleading her case to Wyatt if she didn't smell.

She raised her hand to knock again, but the door opened.

"Jesse," said Wyatt.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he said.

It was quiet. They looked at each other.

She waited for him to ask her inside.

He didn't.

She licked her lips. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said, moving away from the door to let her come inside.

She stepped into his room. It was the same design as hers. A small little kitchen area that amounted to not much more than a sink and two-burner stove and a microwave. Then a small bathroom and another room for sleeping.

It wasn't really fair to even call it a suite, but the kitchen was good for heating up take-out or making coffee, even if it wasn't ideal for actual, well, cooking. There was no living area, either, but agents usually weren't entertaining, and they didn't spend a lot of time relaxing in their suites.

To Jesse, her room still felt like an extended stay at a hotel, not like home. She hadn't felt at home since she'd come to work for Section X.

Wyatt shut the door behind her, then leaned against the closed door and regarded her.

Suddenly, she wasn't really sure what to say to him. She didn't feel as though she could try to flatter him. She knew that wouldn't go well. She couldn't flirt or banter. That would be disastrous. She could beg, but she was so unaccustomed to doing that, she didn't know how to start.

"How trustworthy is Steele?" said Wyatt.

Jesse narrowed her eyes. "Trustworthy? Steele?" She could only echo him, because it was a thought she'd never even had before. "Steele is operations. The operations agents speak directly to the President herself. She's... I mean, of course she's trustworthy."

Wyatt considered this, nodding. "And you trust her?"

"I mean, yeah, of course," she said. "But Steele is my boss. It's not as if I'm going to share my deepest, darkest secrets with her or anything."

"Do you like her?"

Jesse let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Why are you asking me this?"

"You don't like her, then." It wasn't a question.

"She plays head games," said Jesse. "Everyone around here does."

"You included," said Wyatt, giving her a cold look.

She looked away. "I was only doing my best to try to complete my mission."

"Yeah, well, your mission could have been a lot more straightforward," said Wyatt.

"Right, just ask for your help?"

"That's what Steele did. I said yes."

She nodded. "Sorry. If it had been my choice—"

"No, I get it. I understand. If you're here to apologize to me or to try to smooth things over, you don't need to do that. I'm not some dumb kid, Jesse. I can handle it."

"That's not why I'm here," she said. "I mean, I am sorry. Obviously, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Whatever. You were ordered to try to get close to me. I ate it up with a spoon—"

"But you didn't," she said. "You didn't sleep with me, and you saw right through me. You looked at me, and you knew right away I was desperate. You understood me—"

"Spare me this, Jesse." He folded his arms over his chest. "I'm already on board. I don't need you to pretend that there was any kind of genuine connection between us."

"That's the thing, there was." She took a step toward him. "On the plane, when we talked? I felt..."

"Seriously?" He let out a bark of a laugh. "Give it up already."

She sighed. Okay, well, she guessed she deserved this. Of course he wouldn't believe anything she said.

"You're not here to apologize," he said. "So... you want something?"

She hung her head. This wasn't going well.

"What do you want?" he said flatly.

"I... damn it, Wyatt, I wish that things between us could be okay again."

"Things are fine between us," he said. "If you stop bringing up what a patsy I was, since it's painfully embarrassing for me, that'll go a long way to getting rid of the awkwardness. Just tell me what you want."

"I... I want to stay on the mission."

He furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"I want to see this through. I started the mission, and, yeah, I screwed things up with you, but that shouldn't mean that I can't finish what I started."

"Of course," he said. "Did someone say you weren't going to be on the mission?"

Jesse's nostrils flared. Oh, okay. Great. Steele and her mind games. This was Jesse's punishment. She'd been forced to come and debase herself in front of Wyatt, and he'd never actually wanted Jesse off the mission at all. Steele just wanted Jesse to suffer.

The bitch was vindictive. Maybe that made her good at her job, Jesse didn't know, but this kind of thing was par for the course when it came to her boss.

It probably had the dual purpose of trying to suss out Jesse's feelings about Wyatt. Was she actually attracted to him? Would that attraction compromise the mission?

Devious and brilliant, Steele, Jesse thought. She eyed Wyatt. "Okay, well, if you could make sure you tell Steele that you want me on the mission with you, I'd appreciate it."

"Okay," said Wyatt. "I guess I can do that."

"Thank you," she said. And then she left.

* * *

"Part of the reason that we kept the true nature of the mission from you is that we had not figured out the specifics yet," said Steele, who was pacing in a conference room. It was set up with a large screen at the front, a rectangular table in the middle, and state-of-the-art visual props. As she spoke, the screen projected a picture of a world map.

Connor, Jesse, Wyatt, and Duke were all sitting at the table, eyes on Steele.

Connor wasn't quite sure how he'd become a Section X agent. He wasn't sure if anyone had asked him. They'd asked Wyatt, and Wyatt had consented, and then Connor was sort of assumed to be part of the package. He wasn't complaining, though. It was kind of cool, all of it.

This was the first time he'd seen Duke since their little interaction back in the bungalow. When he was first in the drake's presence, Connor's stomach had turned over, and it had felt dangerous and a little exciting.

Duke had winked at him.

Connor had liked that.

But he knew better than to think anything of it. For one thing, Duke had made it clear that what had passed between them had just been for fun. Connor was no stranger to random hook-ups. He knew the drill, and he was pretty good at tamping down any emotions he might have that were trying to morph into attachment.

Anyway, from what he understood, now that they were both employed by Section X, any fraternizing between them was prohibited. So, there would be no more of that, anyway, no matter what either of them felt.

So, Connor spent the rest of the meeting willfully ignoring Duke, which wasn't easy but was doable.

"Truthfully," Steele was saying, "we still don't know the specifics. We know that the power of the Green King is rising, because we have psychics who can sense that. What we don't know, however, is where that power is located."

"It has a physical location?" asked Wyatt.

"Yes," said Steele. "It is somewhere, but we don't know where it is. We have done several spells and rituals to try to ascertain the location, but we've been unsuccessful. We've even had a few false positives. We think we discover the location, but when we send out a recon team, we find that there's nothing there."

Jesse raised a hand. "Why's that happening?"

"Not sure," said Steele. "Could be a side effect of the signature of the Green King's power. Could be that its essence is interfering in our spells and corrupting them. It could be that we simply aren't doing the right kinds of spells. We don't know. But we cannot proceed until we know where the power is located."

"So, you called us here to tell us that we should just sit on our hands until you figure it out?" said Duke.

"No, of course not," said Steele. "I actually have a plan, and it involves cooperation from Flint and possibly Beckett. I wanted to keep the rest of you in the loop, though, so I brought you all in."

Connor raised his eyebrows. A solo mission? Just him and Wyatt?

That actually sounded terrifying. Sure, they were Section X agents now and all, but they hadn't been trained or anything. Connor didn't know how to conduct himself on a mission. Thus far, he'd mostly hung back and let Duke do everything.

Connor didn't know how he could voice any of these concerns without looking like a big wimp, though. And Wyatt was probably itching to go out on a solo mission. Wyatt was like that.

Duke raised a hand. "Uh, you don't want either myself or Talon there? I know that there were some screwups on the last mission and all, but is that really wise?"

"It's not a dangerous task," said Steele. "I simply want Flint to go back home and talk to his parents."

Huh? Now, Connor was thoroughly confused. What did Wyatt's parents have to do with anything?

"My parents?" said Wyatt. "Why?"

"Your parents are the ones who vanquished the Green King in the first place," said Steele. "We think it's likely that the power is rising from that same location, wherever it was they fought him. Of course, if you know where that location is, then we can save you the trip home to the folks."

"No, I don't know," said Wyatt. "But I can't imagine they're going to be really glad to see me. I didn't leave on the best terms."

"Yeah," said Connor, "and they'll be wanting to know where we've been and what's going on. I guess we can't tell them about the mission or the Green King's power?"

"Absolutely not," said Steele. "That information is highly classified. Need-to-know basis only."

"So, we're going to have to lie to them," Connor sighed.

Wyatt grinned. "I like this mission already."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"I'm not back for good, Mom," Wyatt was saying, arms around Penny.

She pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Well, you're going to stay the night, aren't you?"

"Uh, I was just thinking dinner," he said.

"Dinner?" Penny was disappointed. "Connor, can't you talk some sense into him? This is crazy. You've been gone for days, and now you're just flitting in for dinner?"

Connor spread his hands. "Sorry, Penny, he doesn't really listen to me."

Wyatt looked around. "Where's Dad?"

"Oh, he's at work," said Penny. "New case. Someone's killing pets belonging to vampires in the south side of the city. They think it might be connected to the Brotherhood."

"What kind of assholes kill pets?" said Connor. "That's horrible."

"Oh, I know," said Penny. "It's the worst. Lachlan says that the vampires are so upset. Anyway, he should be home soon. I can call him, though, if you want."

"I can wait," said Wyatt.

Penny chewed on her lip. "Why won't you stay overnight? Hmm? We can have breakfast together in the morning. It'll be great."

"Mom," said Wyatt. "I can't."

"Why not?" said Penny.

"I'll explain at dinner," said Wyatt. He had worked up the cover story all on his own. Steele had approved it, saying he had a knack for knowing just the right kind of information to get across in the simplest way.

"Dinner," said Penny. "Do you want us to go out, or do you want me to make something?"

"I've definitely been craving your nachos, Mom," said Wyatt. "Like the ones you used to make in Dractera."

Penny gave him a sad smile. "Those weren't really nachos, honey."

"They were better than nachos," he said. "The salsa you made over there was great. And I really liked the potato ones."

"I could do that, I guess," said Penny, nodding slowly. "And I have some cheddar that I got from the farmer's market that's more like the Dractera cheese."

Wyatt smiled. "That would be awesome."

She hugged him again. "You... I miss you, Wyatt."

He hugged her back. "I miss you too, Mom."

* * *

"Man, this takes me back," said Lachlan, digging his fork into a mess of sliced and cooked potatoes, which had been covered in ground beef, fresh salsa, and cheese. "I never thought I'd be nostalgic about Dractera, but you were kind a genius at cooking there, Penny."

Penny snorted. "That's really exaggerating things. I was no kind of genius. I'm lucky I made anything edible."

"You're a great cook, Mom," said Wyatt around his mouthful. "This is totally the best."

Connor had to admit that the potato nachos were pretty tasty. He liked the fresh tomatoes the best, he thought. They had a nice bite to them. "You are a good cook, Penny. But usually you cook, um, appetizers."

Penny shrugged. "Well, I took a cooking class. They taught us a lot of appetizers."

Lachlan gestured with his fork at his son. "But we're ignoring the reason for this dinner. Your mom says you have some big thing to talk to us about?"

"A favor to ask you, actually," said Wyatt.

"And you're not even going to stay the night?" said Lachlan. "Did you move out of our house, Wyatt, and we just didn't notice? Because, I know you're twenty-two and all, but your mother and I are not ready to let go."

"I, uh, I haven't really thought that far ahead," said Wyatt.

"Is this about that girl?" said Penny. "What was her name? Jenny?"

"Jesse," said Wyatt.

"Oh, my God," said Penny. "She's pregnant, isn't she? I am so not ready to be a grandmother."

"No!" said Wyatt. "Definitely not. It wasn't like that between us. I swear."

Connor shook his head reassuringly. "It's not about Jesse."

"No, it's not about her," said Wyatt. "We did what we could for her. We helped her with the vampires. She got her sister back, and now she's fine. I helped her out, though. I did what I needed to do."

"Well, I'm glad," said Penny.

"You are?" said Wyatt. "Because you were pretty adamant that you didn't want me to go."

"Well, it's good that you helped someone," said his mother. "I know what it means to want to help people. That's something you learned from your father and me. We're the kinds of people who help others. We fight the bad guys so other people don't have to. So, I know why you have that drive. But I have to admit, I just wish you'd come home and do it here."

"I don't need to do it here," said Wyatt. "Sea City has you guys."

"So, is this what you're going to tell us?" said Lachlan. "You're going off to kill vampires on the road, like Clarke and Naelen do?"

"Maybe," said Wyatt. "But I don't know yet. I have something I need to do first."

"What's that?" said Penny.

"I need to go back to where you two vanquished the Green King," said Wyatt.

"What?" said Penny. "Why? There's no reason for that. I don't know why you're always bringing this up, Wyatt. You're obsessed with the Green King, but he is dead. He's been dead."

"I'm obsessed with him because I was meant to fight him," said Wyatt.

"But you don't have to do that anymore," said Lachlan. "Your mother and I, we didn't want you growing up with that hanging over your head. We wanted you to have a normal life." He sighed. "But, um, it seems like you can't stand being normal, can you?"

Wyatt poked his potatoes. "I'm not normal. I've never been normal."

"Well, you're not abnormal," said Penny. "You're a great kid. And you already did enough helping people in Dractera. If you wanted, you could relax for a little bit."

"I don't want," said Wyatt. "I want... I want to have some kind of purpose in life, you know? A reason for existing."

Penny sighed. "Well, everyone wants that."

"Yeah, and I had a purpose," said Wyatt. "I was conceived specifically to fight the Green King. That was my destiny. But now..." He sighed. He shoveled some more potatoes into his mouth.

Lachlan nodded slowly, setting down his fork. "I see." He laughed a little. "You know, it's odd how the younger generation chooses to rebel. For you and me, Penny, it's always been about bucking destiny. We wanted to write our own course. But for Wyatt..."

"Writing his own course doesn't mean anything." Penny sighed too. She reached across the table and took her son's hand. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You know that we did what we thought was best."

Wyatt raised his gaze to meet hers. "I do know that. And I know you guys love me, and I love you too. I was angry about it before, but I'm not angry now."

"Okay," said Lachlan. "So, then why do you need to go to where we vanquished the Green King?"

"For closure, I guess," said Wyatt. "I need to see it and move on. Maybe that way, it'll trigger something inside me, make that part of me understand that the Green King really is dead, and that I don't have to keep looking for him everywhere."

"You look for him?" said Penny, looking sad.

"I look for... for something," said Wyatt. "I think if I go there, I can stop looking."

"Well, okay, sweetheart," said Penny. "Of course we'll tell you where to go."

"It's an island," said Lachlan. "It's off the coast of Brazil. It's tiny. Uninhabited."

"Mostly caves," said Penny. "Honestly, I don't even know if there would be anything left of him there. Maybe his bones, and the bones of all the children of the deep? They were the other monsters he commanded."

"I'd like to go and see for myself," said Wyatt.

"Good luck," said Lachlan. "I hope you find what you're looking for, son."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The island that Wyatt told them about was very small. It didn't appear on maps, and it didn't even have a name. There were several other islands close by, all of which seemed to match the description of that island as well.

Jesse looked down at the water as they skimmed over the ocean in the Section-X-issued helicopter. They were going to have to scope out each and every one of these islands, going looking for the remains of the Green King.

But when they went down low over one of the islands on the periphery, Wyatt suddenly got pretty excited. "It's here!" he yelled over the sound of the helicopter's propellers. "I can feel it. It's here."

So the helicopter set down and they all climbed out.

Jesse watched as the chopper flew off. It wouldn't come back until they sent out a signal that they'd completed the mission.

They had assembled everything that they were going to need for the ritual to extract and contain the power of the Green King. They had the crystals, and the power enhancer, and the container. They also had a selection of onyx stones, which would need to be assembled in a specific formation. They'd been briefed on what to do, and Jesse was confident that they'd be able to make it all work.

She was good with spells, always had been. Her grandmother had told her that they had some dragon in their blood somewhere down the line. A bit of dragon blood meant that there was an affinity for magic deep inside her, something inherited and ancient.

Whatever the case, whether it had come from her ancestors or some other way, she had always been good with magic spells. She didn't anticipate any problems with this one.

Once they had everything together, they set off.

Wyatt led the way. He was going by feel, saying he could sense the Green King, and that the power was incredibly strong.

They followed him.

Jesse went right behind Wyatt, and Connor behind her. Duke brought up the rear.

They walked over the rocky terrain, past the mouths of small caverns. None of them seemed to be the cave that they needed to travel down, however. Jesse wondered if they were going to walk around the entire island. It was doable. The place wasn't that large.

"Stop right there!" rang out a voice. A British voice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Connor tensed, drawing in magic from the talisman around his neck in preparation. They'd been given the talismans by Section X, and they were powerful bits of magic. Connor was ready to fight if he had to.

But it was Vin Anderson who stepped out, flanked by four others in black jumpsuits with heavy talismans weighted around their necks.

"Anderson," growled Duke.

"I wouldn't move, if I were you," said Anderson. "You see, we got here first, fair and square, and anyway, we don't think it's wise for another weapon of mass destruction to fall into American hands."

"What are you talking about?" said Jesse, who had fallen into a crouch, hand at her ankle. "We're not here for a weapon."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Anderson. "I had a good look at those crystals during our little game. The minute I got back, I looked into them. It didn't take long for me to figure out what you were after, and that led me here. We've been waiting for you. Let's have the container, then."

"You think we're just going to hand things over to you?" said Wyatt. "You have to be crazy."

Anderson gestured with one hand.

Wyatt went sprawling. He landed on the hard stone ground. First his backside hit, but then his head hit. He groaned.

Anderson twisted his wrist.

Wyatt's head smashed into the ground over and over and over again. One. Two. Three. Four.

"Stop!" said Jesse, yanking her gun out of a holster at her ankle and pulling the trigger.

Anderson laughed. He stretched out his hand and Jesse's gun came hurtling out of her hand toward Anderson.

Wyatt gasped, rolling over onto his stomach.

Jesse reached out her own hand, and the gun stopped in midair and went back to her. Once in her hand, she cocked it and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed over the ocean.

And then all hell broke loose.

The other four British agents surged forward. They all had magic and they used it to pick the others up into the air and hurl them this way and that.

Connor knew better than to let himself be susceptible to that. He got himself back on the ground and managed to use enough magic to keep his feet planted.

But the others were attacking again, fast and furious. They sent objects through the air. They hurled rocks like missiles. They had knives that they wielded with magic, hurtling through the air to slash and stab.

Jesse got in one good shot at Anderson, at least. She managed to hit him in the thigh, and he went down on one knee, but it didn't stop him from sending more magic at them.

Connor and Duke gave back as good as they were getting, sending back their own rocks, making the other agents float and fall. Connor even dunked one of the agents into the ocean and managed to hold him under for a while.

But the agent surfaced, sputtering, and used magic to arc ocean water at Connor's face. The water swirled up in a shimmering tube and then pummeled Connor in the mouth and nose, making it impossible for the gargoyle to breathe.

Wyatt was in a bad way. When they weren't contending with the others, the agents concentrated on him. It took several tries, but eventually, they had knocked him unconscious. In the process, they'd hit him with rocks and made his nose bleed and pummeled him all over. He was alive, but he was going to be sore when he came to.

And the others were fighting a seemingly endless battle of magic.

The other side didn't even seem winded, but Connor was losing it. He was out of breath and sweaty. When he moved, he ached all over, and he didn't know how much longer he could pull this off. He had enough magic in his talisman to power spells for years, but his body wouldn't be able to take the strain of fighting forever.

Furthermore, the longer that he fought, the worse the sun seemed to feel, as if its rays were sapping him of his strength. He wondered if using all his magic was tampering with the ability of the sun blocker to work.

Not that he could give those thoughts real form, because he was dodging attack after attack.

Duke was using magic too, throwing things left and right. He'd gotten slashed with one of the flying knives, and he was bleeding, blood dripping down his forehead and over his face, but he was still fighting as hard as he could.

Connor could see that the effort was getting to the drake as well, though, because his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his nostrils flared with effort as his breath came out.

And Jesse had stopped shooting by now. Her gun had run out of bullets. She only had six in it apparently, and then it needed to recharge. Now, she was also using magic to fight back, but she looked as exhausted as the others.

Connor didn't think they were going to last forever.

His only hope was that Wyatt would wake up. He knew that before they'd gotten on the helicopter, Wyatt had drunk some blood, so that his powers would be fully charged up. But that had been a long time ago, so Connor wasn't sure that Wyatt would have any magic upon waking.

However, Wyatt could call dragons.

And dragons could get them out of this mess.

So, Connor fought on, holding onto that shred of hope...

But then Duke got struck in the head with a big rock, and he went down, unconscious too.

And Jesse got pinned to a boulder and couldn't get free. She struggled and tried to use magic to free herself or to do damage to the opposing agents, but she couldn't. They got to her and slapped cuffs on her hands. They tied her feet, too, so she couldn't run away, and left her lying on the ground with her cheek flat against the stone.

And they cuffed up Duke and Wyatt too. After they had cuffed them, they tied their legs too.

Connor kept fighting, but he didn't have it in him to fight them all. They all four combined their power to hold him down, and he was no match for them.

Soon, he was in cuffs and tied up also. The minute he felt the metal of it against his skin, he knew what it was. Cuffs seeded with dragon sacrifice. Now, none of them had any magic.

* * *

Jesse felt as though her entire body was one large ache. She rolled over onto her side, gritting her teeth.

Her one bit of satisfaction was that Anderson was pretty messed up. The bullet she'd sent into him was stuck in his leg, and he was bleeding a lot. He sat on the ground, face ashen, gritting his teeth as he tried to use magic to coax the bullet out. But he needed precision to do something like that, and the pain was screwing it up for him.

"I need more of the power enhancer, Ross," he called out.

Damn that asshole. Of course he'd gotten himself some power enhancer as well. Man, Jesse hadn't even thought of dosing themselves with that for a fight. But it made sense why she and Duke and the others had been no match for the British agents.

"We don't have enough, Anderson," said Ross. At least, Jesse assumed it was Ross. He gave Anderson an apologetic look. "We need it for the ritual."

"You've got some, right?" said Anderson, pointing at Jesse.

She sneered at him. "You're such a sore loser. This is because a girl beat you at poker, isn't it?"

He laughed at her, and she knew he meant it to be derisive, but she could hear the pain in his voice. "This is because no one can trust you fucking Yanks. It's never enough with you people. Always have to have more, more, more."

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about. We're here to destroy some very dangerous power, that's all."

"Destroy it?" Anderson laughed. "You think I'm going to buy that? If you wanted to destroy it, just blow up the damned island."

"That wouldn't work!"

"Furthermore, it's not as if it's going anywhere. Just leave it here. If you don't extract it, then it's no problem."

"What?" Jesse struggled to try to sit up, but she couldn't. "It's very dangerous. It's growing. We have to contain this growing power and destroy it."

"I don't know where you're getting your intel," said Anderson. "Maybe your top brass are lying to you, because they know you wouldn't volunteer to go and get them the magical equivalent of the atom bomb. But this power isn't growing. It's buried. And it would have stayed buried if you lot had just left it alone. Now, however, the genie's out of the bottle. Some country has to have it. It might as well be ours, because we're not absolutely mad like you are."

Jesse thought that Anderson was the one who had gotten bad intel. If the power wasn't growing, then why had Wyatt been able to sense it so strongly? But it wasn't worth arguing with him about it. She should save her strength.

"Anyway," said Anderson, "stop distracting me. You brought some of the power enhancer. I need it if I'm going to extract that power."

"You bastard," said Jesse.

"Shut up," said Anderson. "Unless you're going to be a good girl and tell me where it is."

"No need," said one of the other agents. "It wasn't hard to find." He stood up from the bag that Jesse had brought along and held the small bottle aloft.

"Thanks, Morrison," said Anderson, holding out his hand for it.

Morrison brought the bottle to Anderson, who downed it.

Jesse's eyes widened. "What are you doing? You're not supposed to drink the enhancer, Wyatt is. It's not going to work. You've screwed everything up."

Anderson laughed, turning to her. His eyes were glowing red and his voice had an echoey quality. "Shut up, Talon." He clenched his hand into a fist and punched the air above his head. "Let's do this, team." He beckoned for the others to follow and began walking away, the bullet in his leg no longer a problem. He went towards a large cavern at the edge of Jesse's vision.

Morrison hung back. "Shouldn't someone stay to keep an eye on the Americans?"

"They're in sacrifice cuffs," said Anderson. "They can't do magic."

Morrison considered, shrugged, and then took off after Anderson and the others.

Jesse struggled at her cuffs again, trying to get herself free, even though she knew it was futile. "Anderson!" she yelled after him. "You're going to fail."

Anderson flipped her off without turning around. Then he disappeared into the cavern, and the others who were following him disappeared as well.

Jesse struggled one more time and then let her body go loose. Her face was flat against the stone. It was warm from the sun, but it was hard. She shut her eyes.

"So, it's not going to work, right?" came Connor's voice.

She couldn't see him, because he was behind her somewhere, but she opened her eyes. "You were there. You heard what Steele said. Wyatt was supposed to drink the power enhancer so that he could keep the power stable while we extracted it."

"Right," said Connor. "So, it's not going to work."

"Right," she said. But she actually wasn't quite sure. The extraction ritual, the one they were supposed to use, could be used by anyone with the proper supplies who knew the incantation. It was only that once the power was loose, without Wyatt, it would be... well, she didn't know what would happen. But she thought it might be possible to extract the power without Wyatt. Maybe.

If she could ask Steele, she would. But she had no way to do that here, not cuffed, her feet tied together, and trapped.

"Well, if they can't do the ritual, then everything's going to be fine," said Connor. "Of course, they're probably not going to simply let us go, are they?"

Jesse sighed. She didn't know what might happen. Usually, when Section X interacted with MI13, they were working together. She couldn't believe that MI13 had sanctioned this offensive against them. If they were truly worried about an American intelligence agency acquiring a magical weapon, wouldn't they reach out to communicate with the agency? Certainly, they wouldn't simply assume that Section X was weaponizing this power.

She wondered if Anderson was working alone.

She wondered what had happened to Anderson when he hadn't completed his mission, because she'd won his talisman from him in the poker game, and without it, he'd supposedly gotten in hot water. Maybe they'd fired him and he'd struck out on his own.

Maybe this was all Anderson, but it didn't matter, because it was still a really rotten situation, and they were all still tied up and helpless.

A groan from behind her. A cough. Duke!

She rolled over onto her back. "Duke?"

"Mmmph," said Duke. "What the hell? Sacrifice cuffs?"

"Yeah, they got us good," said Jesse. "And Anderson drank our power enhancer, grabbed our container, and took the others down in the cavern to do the extraction."

"But is that even going to work?" Wyatt's voice. "I thought I was supposed to drink it."

"Wyatt!" She tried to sit up so that she could see him and couldn't manage it. "Call dragons."

"I'm trying," said Wyatt. "I've been trying. You think that wouldn't have helped us during that fight?"

"You're trying, but it's not working?" she said.

"I think that the dragons are out of range," said Wyatt. "There are none close enough for me to bring here."

"You have a range?" said Duke.

"Yeah," said Wyatt. "I don't know how far it is or anything. I've never really tested it out and measured it. But sometimes, I can't call them."

"Great," said Connor, sounding dejected.

"It doesn't matter," said Wyatt. "We'll think of something else. If I could get some blood, I could shift myself."

"In sacrifice cuffs?" said Duke. "I don't think so."

Wyatt considered. "Maybe not. We'd need to get out of the cuffs."

"Oh!" said Connor. "Duke, you're really good at picking locks. Can you pick the cuffs?"

Duke considered. "Maybe. But my lock picks are in that bag over there, and it's not as if any of us can simply get up and walk over there."

"I'll get to the bag," said Jesse. "I'm closest." She began to scoot her body over, shoulders first, then knees, back and forth.

It was slow going, but the others called out encouragement to her and she kept going, only getting inches closer with each movement. But progress was progress.

Eventually, she reached the bag.

Now, how was she going to get it back with her? She thought about it for a moment, and then she turned her back to the bag and got one of the handles with one of her hands.

She began to scoot back towards Duke, dragging the bag behind her.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the ground seemed to vibrate. From the cavern where Anderson had gone, an eerie green bit of smoke filtered out.

"What the hell?" said Duke.

"Come on, Jesse, you can do this," said Wyatt.

Something was going on in that cavern, and Jesse didn't know what it was. She began scooting faster, dragging the bag and trying to get to Duke as quickly as she could.

But it still took quite a while.

More smoke came out of the cavern, and there were several more bangs and shakes, like tiny earthquakes.

Finally, she got to Duke.

Now, they needed to open the bag.

She tried to use her fingers on the zipper, but it didn't work. She used her teeth instead. Once open, she rooted around inside the bag until she found the lock picks, which she seized with her teeth as well. She spit them at Duke and then went back to back with him, so that he could go to work unlocking her cuffs.

She could feel Duke's fingers brushing against hers, feeling the tug of the cuffs against her skin as he tried to fit the pick into the lock. Duke grunted and breathed swear words under his mouth.

Another bang. The ground shook.

"How's it going?" said Connor in a tiny voice.

"I'm working on it," said Duke. "It's not easy to do when you can't see what you're doing."

"You've got this, Duke," said Wyatt. "Concentrate. Breathe."

Jesse half-expected Duke to be annoyed that Wyatt was telling him what to do. But the drake only redoubled his efforts, and she noted that his breath became steady.

Then there was a twang.

"Damn it," growled Duke.

"What?" said Connor.

"It bent," said Duke. "I need another pick."

"They're on the ground between us," said Jesse.

Duke scrabbled around on the ground, feeling for them. "Where?"

"I don't know. I dropped them down on the ground."

"For fuck's sake, Jesse—"

"We're good, we're good," came Wyatt's voice, soothing. "Just calm down. I know how frustrating this is. But don't think about that. Don't think about the pressure. Think about the task. You can do it. I know you can do it."

"I can't do it if I can't find the damned picks," said Duke, but he didn't sound as panicked as before.

"So, find them," said Wyatt. "Jesse, think about where you dropped them. Can you find them?"

"Um..." She rolled backward so that she could get her hands on the ground and felt around. It was hard, because her fingers were numb from the lack of circulation, having her hands tied away. "I don't know."

"Keep trying, both of you, keep trying," said Wyatt. "We can't give up. We can't let them win. We're better than that."

Jesse was thinking that if it did come to an apocalypse, and Wyatt was leading an army against a bunch of sea monsters, he'd probably be pretty good at it. He had an ability to keep people calm and focused.

From below them, screams.

Some were human screams of terror, but others were otherworldly and shrill. A horrible noise, an unholy shrieking.

Goosebumps raised on Jesse's skin.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Two of the British agents came running out of the cavern, both wide-eyed and sweaty. One of them, a man, was screaming a horrible guttural noise, as he ran. The other, a woman, had a determined look on her face.

"Free us!" Wyatt demanded. "Free us now."

The man looked at Wyatt with terror all over his face.

Wyatt had managed to sit up. He was glaring at the two with an unwavering expression. He was bruised and there was dried blood smeared under his nose. He looked pretty intense. "Now! No time to waste. Where's the key to the cuffs?"

The woman took a key out of her pocket and hurled it through the air at them.

It toppled end over end and landed a foot out of Jesse's reach. She rolled over to get it with her hands. She couldn't get the key into her own cuffs, so she rolled back to get Duke's. As she was working on it, she watched as long black tentacles came out of the cavern. They sprang out, thick and wet, and they landed with a plopping noise against the rocks.

One of the tentacles caught the man who was running. The tentacles wrapped around and around him, squeezing.

Jesse fitted the key into Duke's cuff and turned. She felt it spring free.

The man sputtered. He twitched.

The tentacles tightened around him.

"Help me, help me, please!" begged the man.

The tentacles wrapped around his neck.

Duke was untying his feet. Then he turned to unlock Jesse's cuffs, which he did in two seconds.

She sat up, hands going to her feet to untie herself.

The tentacles squeezed the man's neck, squeezed tighter and tighter as his face grew red, then purple, then blue, then... gray. He was dead.

The woman reached them and she fell down to the ground, panting. "It's in him," she said, and then choked out something like a sob.

"What's in who?" said Jesse.

A tentacle shot out like a rubber band and wrapped around the woman's ankle.

She screamed.

The tentacle pulled her back into the cavern, lightning quick, even as she yelled for help.

Then, the yells stopped.

Jesse was on her feet. Her gun. Where was Sweetcheeks? One of the British agents had taken it, and she couldn't remember which one. She stole a glance back at the others. Duke was working on freeing Wyatt, and Connor had already been freed. Then she hurried over to the man who'd been strangled by the tentacle. She searched his pockets. No Sweetcheeks, but he had a gun. She picked it up.

One of the tentacles came for her.

She shot at it.

The tentacle absorbed the bullet, as if it was made of pudding or something, and kept coming.

"Jesse!" yelled Wyatt.

She backed up, as quick as she could, tossing the useless gun aside.

The tentacle wrapped around her leg.

And Duke was there, stabbing the tentacle with the lock pick.

The tentacle absorbed this weapon as well, just like the bullet.

But it gave Jesse a moment of time when its grip loosened, and she got her leg free.

Duke dragged her away from the tentacles.

Something else came out of the cavern. It was Morrison, but he didn't look like Morrison anymore. Half of his face was gone. It had been sheared off and all that was visible was the muscle beneath. Out of the muscle, scales and gills had grown, as if Morrison was half fish. But against the meat of what was left of him, it was a fleshy horror. Morrison's mouth was different now, too. He had a wide, gaping hinge of a jaw, and inside were rows and rows of sharp teeth like a shark's.

The worst thing, though, was that his mouth wasn't empty. There was something in there, and he was chewing on it, and it looked like the remains of another agent's head.

Jesse would have stood there, rooted to the spot, gaping at the Morrison-thing, but Duke was dragging her backward, out of the reach of the tentacles, and she had to move her feet along with him.

Maybe it was because she was staring at Morrison so intently, but she noticed that he had Sweetcheeks, poking out of a holster at his hip, and that the others' talismans were draped around the gun, hanging there and jingling against Morrison's legs.

She pointed. "Duke, look."

"Get her back!" yelled Wyatt.

"He's got our talismans," Jesse said, pushing out of Duke's grasp.

"Wait, Talon, no!" said Duke, struggling to keep hold of her.

She wriggled free and started running for the opening of the cavern.

Morrison swallowed whatever was in his mouth and started advancing. The tentacles flared out around him, like some kind of awful fanfare.

"Jesse!" Wyatt was yelling.

Jesse didn't turn around. She just ran for Morrison.

She heard footfalls behind her, and she figured Duke or Wyatt or both were running after her.

The tentacles shot out at her.

She evaded them, jumping and weaving, slapping them away. In Section X, they were trained in magic first, then weapons, and then with their bodies, but they did a fair amount of sparring, and her body knew the dance of ducking and bobbing out of the way.

Morrison saw her and his eyes turned on her with the single-minded glee of something mad and disturbed. He reached out with both hands—one was skinless and growing something like a flipper from his elbow.

She leapt into the air, going into the formation of a Sutherford kick, both her legs extended.

Morrison didn't even try to move out of the way.

Both of her feet slammed into his chest.

Morrison absorbed the impact, letting out a burbling giggle.

Pain radiated up her legs, into her knees, her hips. She fell to the ground in a heap, grunting.

Morrison seized a handful of her hair, yanked her up to face him.

She gritted her teeth against that pain, her nostrils flaring. Now, she was staring directly into his eyes, and it was even more obvious that Morrison wasn't home anymore, and that something else monstrous had taken up residence behind the mask of Morrison's face. It wasn't even an animal look in Morrison's eyes, it was something else, something strange and awful and... and evil.

Jesse didn't believe in evil, not really. Even bad things had their reasons. Satisfy their needs and desires, you nullified them as a threat. But this thing, whatever it was, she could tell that all it truly wanted was to destroy.

It chilled her, stopped her heart for a second of terrible silence that somehow seemed to chatter in her head. It was a loud silence, one that could yawn wide and suck her in, and she would come out just as mad and twisted as Morrison.

But then Duke was there, and he was punching Morrison.

And Wyatt was there, and while Morrison turned to Duke, Wyatt snatched Sweetcheeks out of its holster. The talismans hanging over the gun hit the ground with a jangling noise. Wyatt handed Jesse her gun.

Jesse leveled the barrel of Sweetcheeks and stared down it at Morrison's forehead.

Morrison's eyes turned back to hers, but there was never any fear in them, only surprise and curiosity.

Wyatt scooped up the talismans.

Jesse cocked her gun.

Wyatt tossed Duke a talisman.

Duke snatched it out of the air.

Morrison roared.

Jesse pulled the trigger.

Morrison's head snapped backwards. He swayed on his feet, and then he went down, crumpling and lifeless.

Duke knelt down to check Morrison's pulse, but Jesse knew he was dead by the way the madness had gone out of his eyes. Now they were dead and empty, like glass.

The tentacles around them swarmed.

"Let's go," said Wyatt, taking Jesse by the arm.

A tentacle snapped out and wrapped around Jesse's other arm.

She aimed Sweetcheeks at it, pulled the trigger.

The tentacle recoiled.

"Handy," said Duke. He was backing up.

"Come on," Wyatt ordered hoarsely.

And they ran, hurrying back away from the tentacles and the cavern, where Connor was waiting for them.

They cleared the reach of the tentacles and they turned to look at them.

Jesse doubled over and panted.

Duke wiped at his forehead.

Wyatt sucked in breath through his nose.

"So," said Connor, "what do you think happened?"

"They got the power out," said Jesse.

"But they didn't contain it," said Wyatt. "The Green King is free. I can feel him."

There was a spray of water that rushed out of the cavern.

They all jumped back from it, as if they didn't want it to touch them.

The tentacles were coming closer.

All of them backed up.

And then the owners of the tentacles came into sight. They were black creatures with centers but no heads, like starfish. They crawled over the stone towards Jesse and the others, reaching.

In their wake, just behind them, came Anderson.

Well, sort of Anderson.

It was Anderson's body, Anderson's face and head, but his eyes were red now. It was like something red was alive inside Anderson's body, something horrible. From the waist down, Anderson's body was gone, as though it had been chewed off. His skin was ragged, and there were things hanging out that might have been the remnants of intestines or organs or—

Jesse didn't want to think too hard about it.

Anderson's new lower body was dark green, almost black. It was like the body of a sea serpent, only a giant one. He slithered forward, and the tentacle creatures in front of him shivered in something like ecstasy.

Jesse raised Sweetcheeks and sighted Anderson's head. She cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit him right in the head, square between the eyes.

Anderson didn't even react to it. He simply kept coming.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Then it was chaos.

Jesse had three more shots in Sweetcheeks. She used them to down three of the tentacle creatures. It turned out that if she shot them directly in the center, where their heads would be, they went down and stopped moving.

The others had talismans, and they used magic to fling the tentacle creatures against the rocky walls, to tear their tentacles apart, dismembering them in the air.

But one of the tentacle creatures got its tentacles around Connor. It surrounded his arms, his neck. It climbed onto him and put the center of itself over Connor's face.

That was when Wyatt noticed and used magic to tear the thing off.

Connor's face was bleeding, and he wasn't moving.

"He's alive!" Wyatt yelled out to the others, which was something.

They were down a fighter, though, and the tentacle creatures were still coming.

Not to mention Anderson, who was advancing on them, slithering over the stone ground to get closer and closer. Jesse didn't like to look at him, because every time she did, she felt as if all the air and warmth had been sucked out of the world, and that she was drowning.

She fought instead. Sweetcheeks needed time to recharge, usually about an hour, and she couldn't shoot anything with it until then. Which sucked, because it was a really helpful weapon against those tentacle monsters.

Instead, she used magic, doing it the hard way, tugging out their tentacles one at a time.

She fought, and the others fought, and Anderson came closer, and time passed. She noticed that the sun was hanging low in the sky, and that it would be dark soon, but she didn't have any mental capacity to attach to that thought, because she was too mentally and physically exhausted by the constant conflict.

How long it went on, she couldn't say.

Duke was attacked like Connor, tentacle thing suctioned to his face. She got the creature off of Duke, but he was unconscious as well.

Then it was just Jesse and Wyatt, and they were retreating, moving further and further away from the cavern, tripping over their bag, spilling its supplies.

The sun sank lower.

And then, together, they managed to dismember the last of the tentacle creatures.

The sun was disappearing over the horizon.

Anderson was still coming.

They had a rock wall at their backs and Anderson at their fronts.

Until now, he hadn't even attempted an attack on them.

Now, he turned his red eyes on Jesse.

Jesse felt cold all over. She gasped, and then her throat closed up. Her hands went to her neck, fighting with something invisible there that was closing off her ability to breathe.

"Hey!" shouted Wyatt. "It's me you want."

"Yes," hissed Anderson. His voice was strange and slithery, like dark slimy things moving in murky water. "You. The blood dragon. My shadow twin."

"Let her go," said Wyatt.

Anderson laughed, a hollow sound. "Very well."

Jesse could breathe. She sucked in air, and it had never tasted so sweet. She panted on her hands and knees, hanging her head.

"Blood dragon. I didn't know who you were at the casino," said Anderson. "But now, I can taste you when I come closer. You pollute the air with your smoky aura. Unnatural thing."

"Oh, I'm unnatural?"

Anderson chuckled. "Yes, it's true. I suppose my appearance now is a bit... aberrant. But it's worth it. It's all worth it." He glanced down at Jesse. "I do have to kill her, though. Kill you both. I'll do her first, and then you."

"No," said Wyatt, stepping closer to Anderson. "No, you fight me."

"Why haven't you fought me yet, blood dragon?" whispered Anderson. "Why haven't you shifted or breathed fire or done anything to damage me?"

Right, dammit, Wyatt needed blood. Jesse felt around on the ground for a rock, something sharp. At first, everything she touched was smooth, but then she found one with a rough edge. She slashed the rock against her palm, and blood beaded up. "Wyatt," she gasped. She didn't have the energy to yell anymore.

Wyatt turned back to her. He saw the blood on her palm.

"Drink," she said.

"Jesse, I don't..." He made a face. "I've only ever drunk animal blood, and never from the... the source."

Anderson laughed again. "Look at me, blood dragon. Look into my eyes."

Wyatt glanced at Anderson, and then shook his head. "No, you don't," he snarled. And he was on his knees, next to Jesse, pressing his lips to her palm.

Jesse groaned. That did not feel the least bit good.

Wyatt pulled her closer, one of his arms going around her waist, embracing her.

There was something very odd about his drinking her blood. It was intimate in a strange way, but also painful and invasive. She was feeling weaker as Wyatt sucked at her blood. She wondered if she'd cut in a good place. Maybe he needed a vein?

But then, she might have bled out, right? That was dangerous?

She was feeling woozy.

She vaguely noticed Anderson lazily gesturing to one of the tentacle creatures. It rose up and came back to life, growing tentacles where the others had been ripped away.

The tentacle thing came for them, snapping out its tentacles and wrapping them up in a crushing embrace.

But Wyatt's eyes were closed as he sucked long swallows of her blood into his mouth, and he didn't seem to notice.

Jesse felt the world graying at the edges.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Jesse was starting to dream. She was having that dream again about being back in her house in high school, setting up the candles to do the spell and hearing her brother Tyler in his bedroom listening to music.

Why did it always have to be this?

Why couldn't she think about something else, especially at this moment, because she was probably dying, right? Either Wyatt was going to drink all her blood or Anderson was going to strangle her to death or these tentacles that held them together were going to squeeze them until they were both gone.

So, a little bit of a nice image, that's what she'd like, if at all possible. She'd like the ocean or trees in the breeze over a stream in the forest. Butterflies in a field?

No?

Fine.

She struggled to open her eyes. "Wyatt." Her voice was sandpaper. She tried to clear her throat and mostly failed. "Wyatt."

His eyes opened and he looked into hers. Then he noticed the tentacles that bound them. A trickle of smoke came out of his nose. He lifted his mouth from her palm.

She braced herself, shutting her eyes again.

Fire.

Hot fire, and the tentacles that held them fell away.

She opened her eyes and saw that the tentacles were on fire, burning with bright red flames, shriveling up on the ground around them.

Wyatt let go of her.

She toppled to the ground, boneless. She was tired. So very, very tired.

Wyatt stood up to face Anderson.

Anderson lifted his hands. Brackish water poured out of his palms, coming straight for Wyatt in two streams, like Anderson had just turned on two fire hoses.

Wyatt breathed fire at Anderson. It was red, red fire, hot and searing.

The water and the streams of water met between the two and there was an eruption of sizzling and steam.

Anderson and Wyatt lifted up off the ground, swirling around each other, both pouring their power at the other. Water and fire, meeting in the center of them, neither getting the upper hand against the other.

It went on.

They floated in circles off the ground, both concentrating, both consumed with opposing the other.

Jesse watched, and she hardly knew how to feel about it. At first, all she could think was that she was very tired. But more time passed, and then she began to find it somewhat interesting. The two powers were equal and opposite. Fire and water and neither could win.

Then she began to wonder how long Wyatt could keep this up. She'd given him a lot of blood, and maybe that would last a long time. Or maybe, because he was going at it so hard, Wyatt would burn bright and burn out.

Maybe Wyatt needed help.

But what could she do?

She got Sweetcheeks out of its holster and looked at the gun. She didn't even know if it'd had enough time to recharge. Even if it did, it hadn't worked against Anderson before. She put Sweetcheeks back. She stood up.

Wyatt's face was screwed up in tight concentration. His face was red, but he looked all right.

Anderson, however, was coming apart at the seams.

There was green smoke seeping out of his eyes, his nose, and his mouth. There were tiny rips in his skin, at his neck and his elbows and fingers, and smoke was coming out of there too.

Anderson couldn't contain the power. He'd let it out, but it took Wyatt to contain the power.

Maybe...

Jesse lifted Sweetcheeks. She aimed at Anderson's head again and cocked the gun.

Maybe now that Anderson was weakened, it would make a difference. Maybe now Sweetcheeks had enough power to stop him.

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet went in the side of Anderson's head. It wasn't as neat and clean a shot as last time, but symmetry wasn't what mattered with a gun shot.

Anderson shrieked, hand going to his head.

Green smoke poured out of the hole the bullet had made.

Now, Anderson wasn't sending out two streams of water, but only one.

Wyatt's fire enveloped him.

Anderson screamed, throwing back his head.

He and Wyatt settled on the ground, and the flames licked up all over Anderson's skin, all over the skin of his long serpent's tail. He went up, suddenly, catching fire all over. The flames consumed him and he kept screaming and screaming and screaming until—

An explosion, but this time of water. Anderson's skin burned away, and water splashed up and drenched both Wyatt and Jesse.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Wyatt surfaced, sputtering.

Jesse dragged herself up too. The water was icy cold, and it seemed to cut into her skin where it touched her, like tiny pinpoints of needles.

"Get out of it, Jesse!" Wyatt had her hand, pulling her through the water, pulling her up on top of a rock, and the water was churning below them as they clambered out, dripping.

Wyatt breathed out fire, a circle of hot, hot flame, and it ringed the water, containing it. He turned to her, breathing hard. "Anderson's body was containing the power, but he was a poor vessel."

"Right, it was eating him up," said Jesse, also out of breath.

"We need the container," said Wyatt. "We need the ritual."

"But the power enhancer. You don't have it."

"I don't need it," said Wyatt. "Not if we get this done fast." He gestured. "I've contained the power. I've contained the Green King."

Jesse dashed water out of her eyes. "The crystals and the onyx, they're in our bag." She looked from the water, contained inside the ring of flame, to the place where they had tripped over the bag and spilled out the contents. "I'll go and get them."

"Hurry," said Wyatt.

She nodded, and then climbed down over the rocks and ran for the bag. Within seconds, she was there, gathering up scattered crystals and onyx stones and putting them inside her pockets.

A sizzling sound.

She whirled.

A tiny trickle of water had penetrated Wyatt's ring of flame.

He grunted from overhead and then the flame roared up, plugging over the hole.

Jesse let out a breath. Okay, that was close. Still, they had no time to waste. She had been planning to climb back up next to Wyatt, but now she didn't see why she should waste the time. She was the one who had to do the ritual. She could do it here.

She began to lay out the crystals in the pattern required. Then she set the onyx.

That was when she realized what they were forgetting. "Wyatt, the container!"

His eyes widened. "Crap. Anderson took it into the cavern, didn't he?"

"I'll go and get it," said Jesse.

"No," said another voice. "I'll get it." Connor was standing up, rubbing his neck.

"Connor, you're okay," said Wyatt.

Jesse tossed Connor a flashlight from the bag. "Hurry."

Connor caught the flashlight and sprinted toward the cave.

Jesse stood in the center of the crystals and shut her eyes. She reached inside herself for the place within her that connected to magic. She could always find it if she tried.

Yes, there it was, like a tiny bright spark. She channeled the spark, pulled it so that it stretched and grew brighter and stronger.

And then she began to speak, intoning the words of the ritual that she had learned from Steele.

The ritual was written in an ancient language, something that predated Latin and Greek, something no longer spoken, with very little written record of its existence.

But with the spark flowing into Jesse's body and mind, she understood the words, and—without thinking about it—she began to intone the words in English instead.

"Bring the power to me, so shall it be," her voice rang out. "Bring the power, bind the power, so shall it be."

The flames that contained the water suddenly shot up high into the air, turning blue-ish and burning even hotter.

"Contain the power, hold the power, so shall it be," said Jesse.

Inside the ring of flames, the water turned to steam.

"Hold the power, bind the power, so shall it be," said Jesse. "By the power of three times three. By the power of you and me. By the power of the sky and the tree. So sings the dove. So roars the sea. So shall it be, so shall it be." She raised her hands upward, throwing back her head. "So shall it be."

The steam funneled into something like a tornado and the flames licked up around it.

"The crystals command you. The onyx commands you," yelled Jesse, gasping. "I command you."

The tornado held steady.

Jesse held her arms high, feeling the spell go through her, feeling the power hold it all in place.

Where was Connor?

She couldn't hold it forever.

She channeled her spark, begging herself to stay strong.

But she was going to lose it.

No, no she couldn't.

Except she felt it ebbing out, and if she didn't get that container soon—

A hand on her back, strength flowing into her

She turned to see that Duke was there, clutching his talisman and gritting his teeth.

She blinked her thanks at him. She couldn't talk. She couldn't move.

And then Connor was rushing back, holding the container aloft, above his head.

The tornado of power sprang for the container. It tunneled down inside the container. Connor put the lid on top.

Jesse collapsed.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Steele's fingers danced around the container and her eyes shone. "After all that, you were successful. I'm beyond pleased. I had been worried that this team was a bit too ragtag for a mission like this, but you proved me wrong."

They were all in Steele's office—Jesse, Wyatt, Connor, and Duke. They had come straight here from the island, and none of them'd had the chance to do anything more than cat nap. They were tired. They were dirty.

"It took all of us," said Wyatt. "We worked together well."

She smiled. "Excellent. Well, then, perhaps this is a configuration that could become more permanent. Perhaps the four of you would take a mission together again?"

Connor raised his eyebrows. "You still want Wyatt and me part of Section X? We've never been trained."

Steele smiled. "Oh, we can remedy that. We'll train you. A mission like this, you've both proved yourselves, though. We'd be honored for you to continue to serve."

"I'm in," said Wyatt, offering Steele his hand.

She shifted the container to one arm and then shook his hand. "Excellent."

Connor squared his shoulders. "I guess I have to think about it. I never thought of myself as, um, a spy."

Jesse cleared her throat. "Listen, about Anderson? Was he on a sanctioned mission from MI13?"

"I can't imagine he was," said Steele. "But I will check into it."

"He was convinced we were going to weaponize the power," said Wyatt.

"But he took it into himself," said Duke. "So, maybe he was just there out of greed."

"Yes, indeed, I think that's likely," said Steele. "Had he officially made accusations, I'm sure the agency would have gotten in contact with us before sanctioning a strike. We are allies."

"Well, we're not weaponizing it, are we?" said Jesse.

"Of course not," said Steele. She stroked the container again. "We're going to destroy this power and save the world."

"Could we, um, be present when it's destroyed?" said Jesse.

Steele laughed a little. "You can't let Anderson get inside your head. He was clearly a rogue agent, hungry for power. And he was chewed up by the Green King. He should have known better than to attempt to mess with power like that. Don't doubt that this power will be destroyed."

"I'd still like to see it if I could," said Jesse.

"We did put in a lot of work to deliver this to you," said Wyatt. "Seeing the destruction would allow us to understand that everything truly was over."

Steele smiled. "Of course. I will check with the other operations agents and see if it's possible for you to be there."

"Thanks," said Jesse.

"Certainly," said Steele. Her fingers continued to stroke the container.

* * *

"So, talk to me again about how you trust Steele," said Wyatt.

Connor looked back and forth between Jesse and Duke. The four of them were in a lounge in Section X. The room was efficient and full of sleek, black furniture, but the couches and chairs didn't have a lot of padding and weren't that comfortable. Connor perched on the edge of one, still reeling from recent events.

It was the next morning. They'd all had time to sleep and shower and get something to eat, so they didn't feel like the walking dead anymore, but that didn't mean Connor was any more sure of what was going on. He had to make a decision here. Was he going to be a part of this organization? He wasn't sure.

"We trust Steele," said Jesse. "She's operations. They vet people a heck of lot before they get a position like that."

"Yeah, and we have no reason to doubt her word," said Duke. "She's never lied to us before."

"It's only that she seemed really possessive of the container," said Connor. "Almost like it was a really awesome weapon she was happy to have acquired."

"Well, that doesn't make sense, does it?" said Jesse. "How would you use this power as a weapon? You saw what it did to Anderson. He wasn't going to survive much longer before his body gave out."

"If you had a disposable body, though, they could do a lot of damage," said Wyatt. "How does Section X treat its agents? Does it ever send you on suicide missions?"

Jesse and Duke exchanged a glance. Neither said anything.

"So that's a yes, then?" said Connor. "I sign up for this, and I could end up being sent to my death?"

"No," said Jesse."

"Not exactly," said Duke.

"Not exactly does not make me feel better." Connor folded his arms over his chest.

"Well," said Duke, "people aren't sent on missions to die, but sometimes agents do die in the line of duty. In service of their country. It's dangerous work, what we do."

"Yeah, okay," said Connor. "I guess I knew that." It wasn't as if he hadn't done dangerous things before, after all. He supposed that wasn't a reason, in and of itself, to leave Section X behind. And he did need to stick around and keep an eye on Wyatt, although he hadn't been much help in the fight before, getting taken out of commission pretty much right away. If anything had happened to Wyatt, Penny would have never forgiven him. Connor was glad that Wyatt was a crazy powerful badass.

"Listen," said Wyatt. "When we first got to the island out there, I had this crazy sort of sensation, almost as if I felt the power of the Green King wake up when I arrived. Like it had been slumbering before, and my presence was what caused it to stir. But that doesn't align with what Steele told us."

"How can you be sure what you felt, though?" said Duke. "You can't know what any of that meant."

"You think Steele was lying to us?" said Jesse.

"Well, if she wanted the power for a weapon, then lying to us makes sense," said Wyatt. "Well, lying to me, anyway. She had to know that I would never consent to allowing that power to be used for another purpose, not by anyone, not even the government."

"She's going to let us watch it be destroyed," said Jesse. "Then we'll know for sure."

"Will we?" said Wyatt. "Will we really?"

And again, it was quiet.

"If you don't trust operations, and you think that Section X is corrupt, you probably shouldn't work here," said Duke. "You said you wanted to be part of Section X, but maybe you should take that back."

"On the contrary," said Wyatt. "I think I have to stay here. I'm the only one powerful enough to contain that power. If it is turned into a weapon, I may be the only failsafe. I need to stay close so that I can make sure people don't get hurt."

Connor nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. We should stay here."

Wyatt turned to look at him. "You don't have to, you know, Connor. You can go back to your life."

"What? Working the front desk at Penny's hotel? Waiting for Mr. Right to show up but mostly finding Mr. Right Now? I don't really have a life," said Connor.

"So, you're going to stay, then?" Duke turned his green eyes on Connor.

Connor looked up at him, and he felt his breath hitch a little. Maybe whatever had passed between him and Duke had been meaningless, but it still affected him a little bit. Not staying because of the hot drake, he told himself. Definitely not staying because of that. "Yes."

Duke held his gaze for a minute, and then looked away, nodding slowly.

"Well," said Connor, "if I'm going to stay, then someone should probably call your mother and tell her you're not coming home any time soon, Wyatt, and that I'm going to be watching out for you."

"Do we need another cover story for that?" said Jesse.

"Tell them I'm trying to find myself," said Wyatt. "And that I'll call her later myself."

Connor grimaced. He wasn't relishing this conversation, but it would be worse if he avoided talking to Penny. Much worse. He got up from the couch and started out of the room.

"You going back to your room?" said Duke.

Connor nodded.

"I'll walk with you," Duke said.

Jesse cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing the two of them. She furrowed her brow.

Connor couldn't think of any reason to refuse Duke, so he simply shrugged.

Together, the two left the lounge and set off down the hallway.

Duke pointed to a hallway ahead. "Turn in here."

"That's not the way back to my room."

Duke steered Connor that way anyhow. Once around the corner, he gently pushed the gargoyle into one of the walls and braced himself there with one arm, blocking Connor's exit.

Connor raised his eyebrows. "What the hell?"

"I thought we should talk," said Duke.

Connor fluttered his wings, not spreading them to their entire span, but giving them enough width that they were intimidating. "So, you corner me?"

Duke backed up. "Hey, sorry. You don't want to talk?"

"What's there to say?" said Connor. "You made it clear before we hooked up that it couldn't go anywhere. I suppose that's doubly true now that I'm going to work for Section X."

Duke folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, okay." He sighed. "I guess that is about all there is to say."

"Great," said Connor, heading for the main hallway.

Duke put out his arm again, leaning against the wall and blocking Connor. He looked damned sexy like that, making Connor not want to leave. Duke's voice was hoarse. "I, uh, guess it's a crappy thing to wish you were a little more broken up about the fact that nothing can happen between us."

Connor swallowed. "Are you broken up about it?"

The side of Duke's mouth lifted a little. "I, uh, you know, maybe a little."

"So, if things were different?" said Connor. "If I decided not to join the organization? Would that change things?"

Duke suddenly looked down at his feet. He laughed a little and removed his arm from blocking Connor.

"I didn't think so," said Connor, rolling his eyes. God, this guy. Was he only attracted to this kind of guy?

"It's only that I'm not much for settling down," said Duke.

"Maybe you're not much for settling down with a man," said Connor. "Maybe it's fun to play-pretend with the gays, but when push comes to shove, it's a girl you're after. Say, one with a magic gun?"

Duke shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "It's not like that at all."

"Whatever," said Connor, and pushed past him. Duke couldn't settle down? No problem. Connor was absolutely fine with that.

* * *

After Connor and Duke left Jesse alone with Wyatt, he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

She tried to talk to him, ask him how he was doing.

He gave one-word answers and headed out the door.

She watched him go, feeling sad about it in a way that didn't even make sense. It was only that they'd fought at each other's sides, and she thought that would count for something.

He paused in the doorway. "Uh, Jesse?"

Her heart leapt. "Yeah?"

"I was kind of hoping that we could pretend all that time where you were pretending to be into me, and I was acting like an idiot didn't happen?"

"You were never an idiot."

"I was. I totally was." He nodded. "Yeah. But, uh, if we're going to have a working relationship now, it would be cool if we didn't mention any of that."

"Sure," she said. "No problem." But promising that made her feel even more sad for some reason or another. She didn't get it. It actually made sense to put all of that behind them. She and Wyatt were going to be working together, and anything she'd felt or hadn't felt was immaterial now.

"Great," said Wyatt. "Thanks." He gave her a little wave, and then he ducked out of the room.

She stood alone in the lounge for a few moments. She stuck her hands in her back pockets and turned in a circle. There was no reason to stick around. She guessed she'd go back to her room as well.

She left the room and walked down the hallway.

On her way, Duke appeared around a corner. When he saw her, he gave her a wry smile. "Hey, there, Talon."

"Duke," she said, nodding at him.

He fell into step with her. "So, they're going to be working with us now. Our twosome has become a foursome."

She wrinkled up her nose. "Eew. You manage to somehow make that sound dirty. I guess you've got the hots for the gargoyle, huh?"

"What?" He put his hand to his chest. "Never. That would be unprofessional."

She snorted. "I should have guessed when you said that thing about how he was very, very gay."

"Well, he is," said Duke.

She'd spent enough time working with Duke to know that he was an all-access-pass kind of guy when it came to sexuality. On someone else, it might have been a little strange to her, but on Duke, it was just part of his allure. "You know, he's off limits now. He works with us."

"I do know that," said Duke, winking at her. "Just like you're off limits."

"Yeah," she said, sighing. And Wyatt is too.

"Let's not dwell on unpleasantness," said Duke. "How about you and me hit the gym? I could use a sparring partner." He gave her a mischievous grin. "You'd do."

Oh, Roland Duke, she thought. That's one way for us to be up close and personal.

Not for the first time, she wished everything wasn't so, so, so damned confusing.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

"What was that you had Talon and Duke on?" said Padget Black to Morgan Steele. He worked in Section X as well, only a floor beneath her, and yet they were both far too busy to meet in person. He was a face on her computer screen. Both of them worked operations for the organization. Morgan remembered a time when they had been underlings together. Now, they occupied the high positions.

Soon, of course, she would occupy the highest position possible, not just in the organization but the world. But all that in good time.

"Oh, just routine," said Morgan, smiling. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"And we're acquiring some new agents?"

"A gargoyle and a dragon," said Morgan. "You know that we can always use more magical creatures."

"Yes, but a gargoyle? Hard for him to blend in."

"Duke does just fine as a drake."

Black shrugged. "True. Well, everything's fine on my end. Is everything fine on your end?"

"It is." She smiled. She didn't wish Black any ill will. She even liked him. Once, what seemed like eons ago, they'd gone to bed together, even though that was against the express rules of the organization. But a person could go mad without a release now and then, so it was a rule that was never followed to the letter. By anyone. She remembered that he was an energetic and giving lover. She'd enjoyed herself. So, it wasn't as if she wanted him to be destroyed or anything.

But. Well. One couldn't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, could one?

"Great," said Black. "Talk to you next week."

"Until then," she said. She shut the window that contained Black's face. Conversation over, she got up out of her desk and wandered across the room to where the white container holding the Green King's power was situated. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do about Talon and the others. They were obviously suspicious, but they thought that the power was going to be used as a weapon. They didn't understand anything.

Power like this, it couldn't be wielded.

It had to be taken into oneself and allowed to absorb everywhere.

She ran her fingers over the side of the container. And then she picked up a small bag containing several small onyx stones. The ritual done to contain the power had used onyx, and now the power was primed for her purpose if she did the same.

She opened the container and dropped each stone inside and then covered it again. She whispered a string of foreign words under her breath, shutting her eyes as she savored each word.

And then she opened the container once more. She tipped the contents to her lips.

It poured out, a green smoking liquid.

Morgan swallowed it all down. Yes, soon she would be more powerful than she had ever imagined, and it was all thanks to Wyatt Flint. She giggled a little. Gullible little thing, that one.

* * *

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