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Tulsa, Oklahoma

Quinn went on alert as the teleporting ended.

Groomed grass and solid ground beneath his feet. Check.

Giant indoor event facility at his back, which appeared to be the BOK Center. Check.

No one saw him appear out of thin air thanks to arriving in Tulsa at around nine in the evening, if his calculations on central time were correct. He’d departed just after ten from Atlanta.

Almost perfect.

If Daegan had teleported him twenty feet to Quinn’s left, he’d have been able to walk through an open area between trees fronting Frisco Avenue without having to jump a wrought iron fence.

Still, Quinn had no complaints.

He hadn’t realized that Daegan had been in Treoir Castle in another realm—the dragon king’s second trip that day—which meant Daegan had to drop what he was doing to teleport back to Atlanta to help Quinn and then send Quinn on his way.

That wouldn’t have happened when Macha had control of the Beladors. The last time Quinn had seen her at the end of a Tribunal meeting, she’d told him, “I am done with you.”

As a two-thousand-year-old dragon shifter, Daegan packed a ton of power, but he’d clearly been stretching himself thin to zip all across states, countries and realms throughout the day to protect his people.

He’d taken over Quinn’s role of Maistir and had now teleported Quinn at a moment’s notice.

No questions asked.

Paying that man back would require ... he couldn’t fathom how to do it and had told Daegan as much, to which Daegan replied, “Bring your daughter home. That will be payment enough.”

Daegan was earning loyalty from all of his followers. The Beladors had a true leader.

Quinn hoped this was the place Lanna had seen. Now he just had to locate a faded yellow building with NO TRESPASSING signs. If everything Lanna had observed was accurate, that could be in any of four directions.

He dismissed any doubts. With more of a lead than ever before, now was the time for action.

He waited as people walked along Frisco Avenue in both directions. Thankfully, no event appeared to be scheduled at the dome for tonight. As soon as humans were out of the way, he used kinetics to leap across the wrought iron fence wrapping the back half of the sports complex.

Due to dealing with troll raids and the like in Atlanta, Quinn had been wearing dark-green cargo pants and a black T-shirt when he’d come to the meeting with Lanna. Storm had loaned him a hooded gray jacket, which allowed Quinn the ability to hide his Triquetra blades for easy access.

He could only hope that between those razor-sharp, triangular throwing blades and his Belador powers, he was prepared for whatever he went up against.

Didn’t matter. He was getting his child away from her kidnappers.

He struck out in an easterly direction toward downtown Tulsa, covered a mile, then crossed over to a parallel street and headed back to the BOK Center. This was a tedious, but pragmatic approach to covering a mile out in all directions from the center.

It would be simpler and faster if he could use his Belador powers, which allowed him superhuman speed, but he had to do his part to protect the preternatural world from humans.

Not that he had much control of that at the moment. If Queen Maeve and her followers kept up their antics, they would all be exposed to humans.

He kept moving out and back on the parallel streets, using a counter-clockwise direction around the BOK Center.

On his third trip out, he had taken the cut-across to the next street heading back to the center again when his senses picked up energy moving somewhere ahead of him.

Two young men were walking toward him on the opposite side of the street, but they kept going without slowing down. Humans.

That strange energy could be any type of being these days, with trolls and the Medb coven on the move plus Dakkar’s bounty hunters added to the mix, but when Quinn keyed in on the power, it dissipated.

Was the being moving away from Quinn?

Or had he been made and the being now hid its power signature?

He continued, walking quickly along the empty stretch. Not much foot traffic. During a game or event at the sports center, all the parking lots he passed would undoubtedly be full.

The odd energy stroked past his senses again.

He paused, turning slowly to see if he could pinpoint where it came from.

A vibration of energy pulsed hard, as if the being started powering up for something. Quinn picked up his pace and started to cross North Denver Avenue when a movement off to his right caught his eye.

Buildings and embankment walls bordered each side of the avenue, which ran beneath a railway bridge five hundred feet away.

Quinn had stopped at the corner and now eased into a dark area, then stood very still. He saw nothing at first.

Seconds later, there it was.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows and prowled along the narrow walkway that ran along the avenue, protected from the highway by a two-foot-tall concrete divider.

Any question he had about energy coming from that person disappeared when the being paused beneath the railway track bridge and leaped straight up at least ten feet.

He had nothing but instinct to go on at this point. Finding a preternatural being in this area raised his suspicions enough to take a closer look.

Quinn followed, found an opportunity to use his kinetics to leap the ten-foot height, then closed the distance between them. He allowed for a reasonable space to prevent being spotted. As he approached, the deep shadows spit out another figure, much larger.

The new player moved like a troll. At that size, a troll would have claws as long as Quinn’s fingers.

In two long strides, the troll lifted its arms, preparing to attack the smaller person Quinn had been following.

Quinn raced forward.

The potential victim spun and lashed out with a whip of power that sliced horizontally across the troll’s chest.

The troll made a nasty groaning sound, then toppled over.

But Quinn had lost the advantage of being clandestine since his footsteps gave him away.

The victor of the battle took off, running down the tracks.

Now, with no humans around, it was time to use his Belador speed.

Advantage Quinn. He rushed ahead in a blur. His prey was quick, but not quick enough. Quinn saw his opportunity. Someone working on the tracks had stacked a short pile of railroad ties on the side.

When he got within a hundred feet, he used kinetics to spin a wooden tie across the tracks into the path of his prey, sending the lithe figure flying through the air and landing in a tumble.

He barreled up and stopped just short of running over the now-prone body that was heaving air in and out.

Hair that could be red or brown spilled out as her cap fell off. Good goddess.

He stared down at a face he’d never expected to see again. “What are you doing here, Reese?”

Shock washed over her face for a split second before she shut it down to that blank expression he remembered so well.

“I’ve got business here.”

He offered her a hand.

Instead of accepting his help, she jumped to her feet and backed away. “What are you doing here?”

She’d been in Atlanta, hunting Kizira’s stolen tomb and never said why she wanted it. Now she was not only in Tulsa, but in the area where Phoedra should be?

A coincidence by definition was an extraordinary concurrence of events or circumstances without an obvious causal connection.

He had yet to believe in coincidence, especially when on a mission.

“What business do you have here, Reese?”

“I didn’t tell you?” she said innocently, then snapped her fingers. “It’s because I figured out a long time ago not to explain things to people. Otherwise they start thinking they’re entitled to know everything I do.”

That smart mouth verified he had the real Reese.

But what was she doing here?

“Tell you what, Quinn. If you tell me why you’re here, I’ll tell you why I am. But if you try to bullshit me, I’m gone.”

“I believe we’ve established that I can outrun you.”

“You think that’s all I can do?”

The minute she referenced her powers, he scanned her neck for the leather thong holding the medallion she’d worn last time. There it was. For some reason, she could access her powers with that medallion, which meant whoever had taken away her use of them had not given them back fully.

“Who has you dangling at the end of puppet strings, Reese?”

Her cocky smile fell away at that. “I’m busy and I’m on a tight time frame so either meet me halfway or leave me alone.”

“I have a third idea.”

“What’s that, sport?”

“I could use that baling wire over there to tie you up until I finish what I came to do, then take you back to Atlanta with me where you could finally answer my questions.”

“You can’t teleport.”

“No, but I have someone on speed dial who can. Remember the dragon?”

She took a step back.

Shit. He hadn’t planned on her calling his bluff.