EMMA

Hour after quiet hour passes.

We wait, ready for Azar and his men in the building with the banner ruffling in the breeze. Amy’s back home, safely ensconced and perfumed in her hidey-hole, Claudia hovering over her and making sure she’s protected. I know Claudia’s frustrated at me for using her sister as bait, but she knows this is the right thing to do.

The plan should have worked perfectly, but as the night passes and daylight approaches without so much as a motorcycle zooming through the city, I’m forced to admit that Azar hasn’t fallen for our bait.

He’s not coming for “Felicia.” No one is. He’s not sending his men out to scoop up a young, fresh female for dragon bait. Either he’s onto us or he doesn’t need her. Either way, he’s not coming.

I clench my fists in my hiding spot on the third floor of the building, frustrated. I have a gun and three Molotovs at my side. Zohr waits in human form next to me, ready to shift to battle-form at a moment’s notice. Several floors up, Kael and Dakh wait, Dakh’s mate nearby and armed to the teeth.

All for nothing.

It is dawn, Zohr says. Claudia and Sasha are going to rest for a few hours. You should, too.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, picking up my binoculars and scanning the streets below again.

My fires, if he comes, I will smell him. Zohr brushes the hair off my cheek with his claws in a tender, loving gesture. You can rest. I will wake you.

“I’m okay,” I tell him stubbornly. “I want to stay awake. I know the moment I go to sleep, he’s going to show his ass up, and I want to be ready to put a bullet between his eyes.”

Very well. He drags his claw along my chin. But if you grow tired, you should rest.

I won’t grow tired. I know I won’t. I’m too keyed up. Too anxious to get this over and done with. I want to move on. I want our lives to move forward, and we can’t with Azar lurking in the shadows. But I nod at him and we settle back in to wait a bit longer.

I doze some throughout the day. It can’t be helped. The afternoon’s impossibly hot and the muggy heat gets to me. I drift back and forth between exhausted sleep and wakefulness. It’s quiet, the only sound that of the wind itself.

There are no motorcycles. No dragons, other than the one at my side. No nothing.

I eat my meals without tasting anything. I drink to stay hydrated, and I clutch my gun, hoping against hope that he’s going to show his face. It’s going to be at the very last moment I expect it, I know. That’s why I can’t leave my post. That’s why I have to stay alert and ready.

It’s my job to bring this to a close.

* * *

Dusk. Fuck.

* * *

I wake near dawn, only to realize two things.

I’ve slept for nearly ten hours.

And Azar still hasn’t arrived.

He’s not coming. He’s not falling into our trap. Goddamn it. I clench my fists even as I rub sleep out of my eyes. Still nothing? I ask Zohr.

Nothing. His eyes whirl with gold, a hint of black at the edges. He gazes out at the empty streets, clearly frustrated. Not a sound or a scent. There is nothing. No one has even come close. The others are giving up for now. Kael and Dakh will be leaving. Dakh’s mate needs to rest and Kael worries for his mate. We will regroup and decide a new plan after everyone has slept.

I should agree with this. Go along with what they have suggested. It’s nice and sensible. We came here for help and they’re going to give it to us. It’s just…we’ve now wasted two days being sensible. How many other dragons are going to die while we wait “sensibly”? What am I going to do if Azar snares my Zohr again while we are being “patient”?

Fuck that.

I agree, Zohr says, picking up on my thoughts. He puts a hand to the back of my neck and clasps it, his touch warm. Do we do this our way?

I’m filled with a rush of gratitude and love for the guy. He gets how I feel. He understands. I don’t have to explain myself to my dragon—he knows. I nod. Yup. We go after him. You and me. We do this the way it should be done.

The expression on his face is determined. We take care of the problem so we can focus on other things. His eyes grow hooded, sultry. Like ensuring you will carry my young.

Ensuring, huh? I think that’s a polite way of saying you just wanna bang a lot.

I do not want to bang things. I want to mate you. His mouth curls in a hint of a smile. There’s so much promise in that one small expression that it makes me breathless.

Same thing, babe. Same thing.