Dragon's Chase (Paranormal Protection Agency) (Paranormal Protection Agency Book 7) (3 page)

Chase’s lips compressed into a thin line of pain and determination and she made her way to the door in the straightest line she could manage. It took every ounce of strength she had, the memory of every shitty training session before she’d earned her place as a warrior, the adrenalin of every battle she’d ever fought and the sheer pride in being what she was, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

She trudged through the dank, damp tunnels trying to get far enough away from Sellers to trigger a healing shift. Every so often she was forced to snarl at Red Caps lurking in the shadows
to keep them at bay. It didn’t scare the things off. She felt them following her, the back of her neck prickling from their interest. Fuckers. The knowledge they’d be all over her like a bad rash kept her on her feet. If she hit the deck now, the injuries Sellers had inflicted would seem like mere tickles. Red Caps were nasty and way too inventive with those pikes. The fact that she’d roasted more than a few of them would only make them more so.

A breeze from up ahead washed over her and she turned her bruised face toward it. Wincing at the cooler air, she probed the side of her cheek. Lacerations crisscrossed the inside, seeping blood, and some of her teeth were loose.

Looking up, she focused through her left eye. Her right was swollen shut. Just to the end of the tunnel. That’s all she needed. It was still night so she could shift without being seen. Just a few more steps….

She stumbled out of the tunnel and fell, the last of her strength gone. Agony lanced through her body, her broken ribs crunching. Her scream echoed through the night sky and she lay, utterly spent. But she was in the open, under the moon, and that was all that mattered.

Another sound answered her scream. A bellow, louder and harsher than hers. The voice of a male dragon calling out in concern. The cloud cover broke above her and she sighed in relief as moonlight bathed her. Blessed, healing moonlight. The bellow came again but she ignored it. Those bloody males were at the root of her troubles.

What troubles?
The voice broke through her weakened mental barriers. Deep and rough, there was no mistaking that it belonged to a male. Her male.
Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Nowhere. Go away
. Rolling onto her back, she lay still as she gathered energy to shift. She couldn’t help the small whimper as her body settled. Rat came up this way a lot, and she needed to be gone before he came across her. Sellers had the power, but it was the pixie who really scared her. He had a dead look in his eyes that chilled her to the core.

You’re hurt. Tell me where you are, dammit!
the male demanded, his voice little more than a growl.
I’ll come and rescue you
.

Chase couldn’t help it, she barked out a laugh before she remembered that laughing and broken ribs didn’t play so nice together.

I don’t need rescuing—

Sellers’ spell broke with a snap she felt all the way down to her toes.

Fuck me....

Sucking in a breath, she held a hand to her ribs and let go, allowing her body to dissolve and fall into darkness. She coiled her shadow form around and back on itself gingerly to ease all the kinks out. Pain stabbed into her side at several movements so she took it easy, breathing a sigh of relief as her scales rustled and shifted back into place. With the change of form, most of her injuries fell away like they’d never been, leaving just the deepest and most gruesome for her to heal the old-fashioned way. Through time. Exactly the reason Sellers had locked her into the one form. It was the only way he could make her suffer. Feel pain.

Happily, sweetness
. The male’s voice lost the growl and became silky.
Just tell me when and where.

Yeah, right,
she snapped back.
Like that’s happening.

It will happen.
The arrogance in his voice lit the match of her temper.
I’ll find you and you’re mine. You know you are.

Pffft, no one owns a Nightborne.
Her voice was dismissive as she extended ethereal wings to full stretch in a slow movement and felt the wind under them. The feeling was bliss after being trapped in her human body for so long, even if her side did pull a little where her ribs were healing. She’d have to be careful flying and moving for a while.
And anyone who tries is an idiot.

What did you say?

He dropped the silky tone, the surprise evident even over their mental link. A link he shouldn’t have unless— She cut that thought off before it could form. She had no mate. Didn’t want or need one. She had too much to do, and Baby to look after, before she could even
think
about taking a mate.

I said you’re an idiot.

No, not that part.

She could almost see his irritation and grinned as she launched herself into the night sky as he started talking again.
The part about the Nightborne? What did you mean? Is that what you are? A Nightborne dragon?

Chase rolled her eyes, wings beating the air as she climbed high over the city. She could sense him clumsily feeling along the link, trying to locate her and suppressed her snort. He didn’t
have a chance in hell. Her shields were back at full strength now and the only reason she still spoke to him was because she wanted to.

Hells, don’t you know anything? Or what you are?

No.

The insecurity in the single word answer struck at her heart and she paused mid wing-beat.
You don’t know what you are?
Shit, that was rough. To not know what you were was to not know
who
you were.

No, we were abandoned just after birth. Never found our family. Some old Warden said we were Shadow-dragons, but we’ve never seen another of our kind. Until you.

Now she felt like an ass. An ass with a mission, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t talk to him. She just wasn’t going to meet him. Ever. Not when the mere sound of his voice had the mating call pulling at her heart.

You are Shadow-dragons. I thought myself to be the last of our kind, but I was obviously mistaken. If you were born…. Then there might be more of us now. How old are you?

He chuckled, the rich, deep sound so sexy that it sent a shiver down her spine.
Now, if we start that, I’ll have to ask your age. Disclosure of information and all that, and I make it a point of courtesy not to ask a lady’s age.

Good luck finding a lady around here, sunshine.
She allowed amusement to filter through her mental voice and banked between two high-rise buildings.
I don’t need to know to the date, but were you born in this time?

What a strange thing to ask. What time would I have been born in? The dark ages?

Great. He was an idiot. A sarcastic one to boot.

Don’t worry
, she snapped back, banking around another building and dropping into an alley close to her destination.
It’s fairly obvious you were, you’re too dumb to be anything else. Don’t try to contact me again.

Cutting the link, she slammed her mental shields in place and reformed on two legs. Hope hummed in her heart as she walked down the dark alley. If she was lucky she’d be able to find a way to break Sellers’ control over her.

“I beg your pardon?”

Given that she’d been born eons ago, and even though she’d kept up to date with linguistic differences by hitch-hiking in the back of human minds over the years, she’d found that when startled or annoyed, she dropped back into the more formal speech pattern of her youth.

Right now, startled was somewhat of an understatement. Surprise filtered through every cell of her body as she looked at the Warden opposite her sharply.

They sat in what amounted to the tiniest sitting room Chase had ever seen. Shelves and cupboards lined the walls, with ornaments and lace doilies on every available surface. A closer look though, revealed that this wasn’t some little old lady’s sitting room. Arcane artifacts played companion to the mundane. A crystal skull sat next to a figurine of a shepherdess and lamb while a grimoire sat on top of a battered old cookbook. For some reason the modern book looked older than the leather-bound one.

Two chairs were crammed kitty-corner to each other facing a roaring fire. Which, as far as Chase could recall from when she’d approached the place, had no chimney. Curiosity rolling through her, she couldn’t resist the temptation and unfurled her own power enough to send a tendril of query. Just low-level stuff that didn’t trigger the collar, and one the Warden no doubt expected. Like most fire-breathers, all dragons had an affinity with the hot stuff.

Her query touched the flames and she started in surprise.

Illusion. A damn good one as well. It would have to be to fool her. Interesting.

She didn’t allow her gaze to flicker, just looked at the Warden steadily. Like the room, appearances were deceptive. When she’d first walked in, she’d almost turned around and walked back out again, convinced that one of the most magically capable creatures in the world should not look like someone’s grandmother.

“Why should that come as a surprise, Nightborne?” The Warden asked, holding up the teapot from the table between the chairs in silent query. Despite her aged appearance, sharp intelligence shone in her dark eyes. And something darker, more powerful than should reside in a human frame, lurked in the chocolate brown.

Chase shook her head in reply. Since the woman had known what she was the instant she’d walked through the door, Chase didn’t entirely trust her. It was too easy to slip something into an infusion. Which was how half of her kind had ended up enslaved in the first place. Might be interesting if the warden
did
try something like that. Chase could sit back and watch her and Sellers duke it out with spells to see who controlled her.

But control was still control, and that was the point of this little visit. To find a way to be free. Free of Sellers, free of control.

“Yeah...but
sex
?”

She tried hard to hide the distaste in her voice. Not that she didn’t like sex, she did. A lot. Not that she’d had any for...she quickly stopped that calculation, not wanting to be reminded of how many years had passed. She was a warrior though, and the mission came first.
Then
she could get laid.

She’d been hoping the Warden would know of some arcane and obscure spell she could perform that would free her of the Dragos’ hold. Something dark and dangerous, powerful but that could only be performed at great personal risk. Something heroic. Hell, she’d even take on a quest through the Night Plains in Faery, if they still existed. They had to. She couldn’t imagine a world where the Wild Host and their home no longer existed.

This…wasn’t heroic. Having sex to break a spell seemed like cheating.

The Warden tsked in disapproval, clicking her tongue at the back of her teeth. “Come now, I’d have thought a mage of your standing would be more than aware how powerful sex magic can be.”

She snorted. Of course she was, it just wasn’t—

“Honorable?”

Chase narrowed her eyes as the Warden plucked the word out of her mind. The old woman chuckled in amusement. “Child, your mind was wide open, but I didn’t need to read it. Your feelings are written all over your face.”

Great. Just great. She blanked her expression, but the Warden turned her attention to pouring the tea. The fragrant steam rose from the cup, teasing at her senses. Citrus and hints of Jasmine. Maybe something deeper lurking in the background but it disappeared before she could identify it.

Obviously not bothered by her silence, the Warden carried on talking. “This isn’t about honor, child. What has been done to you is a dishonorable act. Binding a creature against its will, especially something as rare and beautiful as one of your kind, is a crime against nature. Against the witching itself.”

She looked up and Chase felt caught, an ancient power looking out of those dark eyes to pin her in her seat. She slammed back in shock. Fuck, Wardens had gotten way more powerful since her day.

“Can’t fight dishonor with honor, and neither should you. But you have the answer to your freedom within your grasp, the question remains whether you’re strong enough to take it.”

“I’m strong enough to face anything,” Chase snapped back, anger rising hot in her throat. Who the hell did this woman think she was to call her courage into question? “I am Nightborne, daughter of Stormcaller,
nothing
is beyond me. What is it? What do I have to do? I’ll do it. Anything to be free of that bastard.”

“Anything?” The Warden’s lips quirked. “Would you be prepared to fall in love?”

***

Fall in love? How ridiculous.

Chase snorted as she stepped through the door out into the alley. Wardens in this day and age were obviously prone to all sorts of foolish fantasies instead of the sensible creatures she remembered. She should have tried one of those crazy-ass Seers instead. She might have gotten more sense.

Her thoughts on the Warden’s words, she didn’t spot the puddle in the darkness of the alley and splashed through it. The sound, and cold wetness seeping through her light boots, snapped her back to reality.

“Arrgh, Hegra’s tits!” she cursed, and sidestepped to glare at her feet. Irritation swirling through her, she widened the door between herself and her dragon to pull a tiny tendril of power. Only enough to dry her feet out and transform the light boots she’d wrought to match the fashions of this time into the heavier, sturdy boots she preferred.

A smile curved her lips as she looked down at her handiwork. Yeah, magic could come in real handy at times. The smile dropped as she started walking. Not sex magic though. There was just something about the idea of using it to break the collar’s curse that didn’t sit right with her.

The warrior in her wanted to meet Sellers head on, with a sword in her hand and battle magic at her command to force him to give up control. Not break it through getting down and dirty with some guy. If it was just sex, then fine. She’d head on out into the alley and to the nearest bar, pick some pretty human to fuck and free herself. No need to involve another dragon.

But at the thought, her stomach rolled, as though every cell in her body rejected the idea of letting another man touch her now that she’d touched minds with her mate. Had felt the mating pull for real. She put her hand over her mouth until the nausea receded.

Sex with someone else wasn’t on the cards, no matter how handsome the candidate.

She had no idea what her mate looked like in human form, but looks weren’t important. He was her mate. Apart from the fact she didn’t have time for any of that. She had a mission. He’d have to wait until after she completed it.

As though thinking of her mate summoned him, she felt him tugging at the mental path between them. Clumsy attempts to try to locate her. Shaking her head, she carried on walking toward where the alleyway widened out and she could get enough space to shift and take off properly. She so didn’t need this right now. A dominant male dragon with no magical training and little to no control would only screw things up big time.

She’d crossed less than half the distance along the alley when a high-pitched giggle brought her up short. It sounded again, from behind a dumpster just ahead. Another giggle, and a shift in the shadows ahead. She snapped her head around, gaze piercing the darkness to catch the tiniest glitter along the edge of a pike.

Great. Red Caps. Just what she needed.

At her sides, her nails lengthened into claws. She frowned, opening all her senses. The alleyway was dark, but that didn’t make any difference to her. A creature of shadows, this was her natural habitat. The scents from the alley—oil from a car that had been parked yesterday, an abandoned takeaway half spilled from its container to her left, the contents already beginning to spoil, and the myriad nasty stinks from the dumpster—assaulted her, and from further back came the steady
drip-drip-drip
of broken guttering.

“I can see you,” she said, injecting a bored note into her voice. “So you might as well quit hiding.”

The boredom was faked. Her senses were all on high alert. No one could afford to drop the ball around Red Caps. What they lacked in size, they made up for in homicidal urges and trickery. She watched three, then four, slide from the shadows. One had hidden behind the dumpster, another above him on a metal fire escape, while the remaining two slunk out from recessed doorways. One chewed noisily. She didn’t want to know on what.

“Whatcha been doin’, dragon-bitch?” The Red Cap in front of the one still gnawing away spoke. His eyes bright with interest, he swept a lustful gaze down her body. She suppressed a shiver. She knew better than to show weakness to these animals.

“Oh, you know. Bit of a walk in the moonlight. These alleys can be quite beautiful in the darkness,” she shrugged flippantly, far more interested in what they were doing here. And what they’d seen.

“Just popped out for some takeout,” the Red Cap jerked a crooked, misshapen thumb over his shoulder to the one behind him. He paused, mid-chew, to wave. “John was hungry.”

“John?” The question escaped before she could stop it. “That’s a bit of a normal name for….”

“One of us?” The Red Cap arched an eyebrow. “Well, we decided to move with the times and took new names. John back there was born Skullcrusher. I was Kneebuster, but I go by Karl these days.”

“Cool.” What the hell did she say to that? New names or not, they were still murderous little bastards. As if to emphasize that point, a red droplet detached itself from the front of Karl’s cap to splash wetly against his cheek. It ran down his skin, a bright streak of color easily discerned with her excellent night vision. “Always good to move with the times.”

“Yeah. Of course we do miss the good old days. Dragging humans off the road and dismembering them.” He sighed wistfully, ignoring the streak of red down his face but Chase couldn’t look away. Red Caps got their names because of their hats. Bright red. Kept that way with the fresh blood of their victims. If it dried out, the Red Cap died.

“Of course,” he brightened up, the vicious grin returning to his face as he gripped his pike. “Dismembering dragons is just as much fun, especially ones we find leaving a Warden’s shop.”

She froze. They knew. They’d seen her. Which meant she couldn’t let them get back to Sellers. He couldn’t know what she was up to. Tension and the potential for violence built in the alley as she looked at the Red Caps and they looked at her in a standoff that wasn’t going to last long.

The Red Cap by the dumpster moved first, and Chase launched herself into motion. Dissolving into shadows, she used the last of the corporeal energy from her shift to hit the puddle in front of her, spraying the dirty water up into the eyes of the two Red Caps rushing her.

The alley was dark and dank, two factors she used to her advantage. Spinning the shadows around herself, she materialized a lethally-edged claw long enough to rip out the throat of the first Red Cap to reach her. It stopped dead at the kiss of her claw. Blood splashed hot and wet against her scales for the second they were corporeal. She was already gone by the time the body fell, a gurgle rattling from the ruined throat.

She skittered up the wall, hiding her shadowed form in the darkness. A less salubrious part of town, the buildings obviously hadn’t been cared for. Each time she manifested claws to propel her faster, the old brickwork crumbled, forcing her to fight for her footing. She could understand why the Warden had picked this area though. More affluent, upmarket areas had video surveillance and while most magical creatures could fool the human eye, cameras were a different matter. They saw what was
really
there and recorded it for prosperity, or even worse, the internet.

Scrambling higher, she used the top of a rusty metal fire escape to coil around, her serpentine body rolling around like some kind of magical rollercoaster without rails. Even though she was barely visible in the darkness, her scales rustled softly with the movement, a sure fire way to track her
if
her opponent knew what they were doing. She could silence them, but would sacrifice speed to do so. Not worth it, not with Red Caps.

Letting go of the fire escape, she dropped out of the sky onto another of her opponents and wrapped herself around him, anaconda-like. He gasped and beat at her coils when they tightened. His bones cracked within his skin, the
pop-pop-pop
sound reminiscent of corn popping. Grinning with triumph, even though the wounds on her own ribs ached, she squeezed harder. Not a natural technique for a shadow-dragon, but, longer and more serpentine than the dragons depicted in human stories these days, their bodies lent themselves well to it.