Becca jerked awake. Someone had screamed? Roared? Been in pain? She couldn’t remember. It had felt like a dream, and yet…

Nero howled in her head and she scrambled from the bed, adrenaline racing through her, ready for—

She had no idea for what. He wasn’t in the bedroom. The drapes were only partially drawn, and in the dim moonlight, she couldn’t see anyone in the bed or the lounge chair by the window or at the antique writing desk. The bathroom door was partially closed, but the light wasn’t on, indicating he wasn’t there, either. Not that Nero couldn’t see in the dark, but—

Another howl, and the mental connection seared through her, locking her thoughts with Nero’s. He was in trouble. He was surrounded. Men. Guns. Drugs.

The weight of a sedative crushed her and dragged at her thoughts and limbs— no, his thoughts and limbs. He’d been tranquilized. He’d been shot.

Where are you? She had to get to him, get help. God damn it, she needed a gun.

She rushed to the bedroom door, grabbed the knob, then realized she was naked.

Shit.

Another howl. The cry tore into her soul. He had to escape. Get back to her. Get—

Agony sliced through her chest— his chest. He gathered his wind, a ferocious gust that swept from the core of Becca’s being and exploded from her hands—

No, damn it. His hands.

The bedroom darkened, and the bite of cold air stung her cheeks. Men surrounded her— him.

It was so hard to concentrate.

His thoughts whirled, louder than any other voice in her head. He stood on a side street lined with tall brown-bricked buildings, an alley behind and to his right, and almost a dozen men in tactical gear with weapons ranging from Tasers and Glocks to M4 assault rifles. And there were more in the alley and likely in the buildings and on the rooftops.

He lunged at a man in tactical gear while shooting a blast of wind behind him and fought past the tranquilizer to slam his fist into the man’s face. He needed to cover his back, get to a wall, buy himself enough time for his soul magic to deal with the tranquilizer. Better yet, somehow summon a gate and get the hell out of there.

But there were too many of them. His wind would only hold them off for so long, and he wouldn’t have enough time to summon a gate.

Where are you? she asked again, focusing her thoughts on him, willing him to hear her.

He gasped, and pain snapped through their heads. Becca? He couldn’t let anything happen to her, had to protect her, had to—

Someone yelled. The guy he’d punched jerked around to attack him, but Nero wrenched the guy’s arm back into a joint lock and, with another gust of wind, tossed the two men standing between him and a brick wall a dozen feet away.

Where? she barked.

At the facility. Ambushed. Get Grey.

The facility? God damn it. She needed clothes, but she didn’t have any here except for the bloody ones she’d been wearing. What is wrong with you? Why would you go there without backup? Why would you go there without me?

To protect you, of course.

Of course, because I’m incapable of taking care of myself. Did I ask you to take care of my problems without me?

Well—

No. She scrambled to the bathroom and pulled on her filthy leggings and tank top. And I’m guessing you didn’t go with a plan.

Someone yelled and gunfire exploded. The man in Nero’s grasp jerked — they didn’t even care if their own men were caught in the crossfire — and more pain slammed into Nero’s chest.

This was supposed to be reconnaissance, he growled. Find Grey.

Did she even know who Grey was? Yes. He was the big blond guy who’d been in the kitchenette when she’d been shot. Still, how the hell was she going to find Grey?

He’s in the transition suites… I think.

You think? She couldn’t go running through the house. Hell, she didn’t even know where she was.

Something flickered at the edge of her senses. Nero yanked his attention beside him to the mouth of an alley, but no one was racing out. It wasn’t his senses, but hers, the whisper and rush of the other voices in her head threatening to overwhelm both of them.

Someone behind him grabbed his arm. He sent a blast of wind into them and staggered to catch his balance, his limbs numb from the tranquilizer but gaining strength.

I just need a few minutes, he said.

I’m not willing to bet your life on a few minutes. She was finding Grey and extracting Nero from this mess.

Can’t send Grey, but he’ll know who can help.

You’re going to be picky about who saves your ass?

Need to protect the puzur.

Shit. He was right. She didn’t know half of the complicated details around dragons. Forcing Grey to join a rescue team might create more problems. Still, if Grey knew what the hell was going on, she needed to find him. She just had no idea how.

The voices in her head grew louder, drowning out Nero’s essence, and she fought to tune them down and get them quiet. Not now. She needed to find Grey.

Coffee? a voice asked, the words clear unlike all the other voices in her head. The tone was masculine but different than Nero’s and familiar, like—

Nero ducked a punch at his face, stumbled, and swept a whip of wind at the M4 in the hands of another man, wrenching part of Becca’s essence back to him.

Nero is out, the voice said. He’ll be back in a bit.

Thanks, Grey, Raven said.

Yes! Her concentration stuttered, and the other voices flooded her again.

No! If they’d just shut up for a minute, maybe she could communicate with him like she could with Nero. She strained to focus on Grey and only Grey. She could sense he was close, below her and… out beyond the window… in the yard? But that didn’t make sense. It felt as if he was lower than that. Below the ground. Where are you?

Grey was silent, and the voices grew louder.

Crap.

Come on.

Please.

Where are you?

Maybe she could only overhear what others were thinking and could communicate with Nero because he was inamorated with her.

But if that was the case, she needed to be physically searching for Grey as well.

She scrambled across the bedroom and out the door, into a hall with classic dark wood paneling and floorboards, a thick rug running up the center, and half a dozen other doors. She still didn’t know if Grey was in the transition suites, only that he was with Raven, and had no idea how to get to wherever he was.

She banged on the first door. No answer. Same with the next. Halfway down the hall, it opened up into a stairwell landing, revealing another story above and one below.

She raced down the stairs. Pain sliced through her chest. Her vision wavered back to the dark street and the men surrounding Nero.

A fist cracked against his cheek. He snapped the elbow of one man then shoved him into the one who’d hit him. Two more men lunged at him, and he knew they were keeping tight to prevent him from summoning a gate. They knew he was a dragon, and knew how to take him down.

Not going to happen. She was getting him out of there. No one else was going to die because of her, and she was God damned going to find Grey.

Grey’s consciousness flashed to the forefront of her mind. Who the—?

She seized at his thoughts and held tight. Becca. Nero’s in—

Nero growled, wrenching Becca’s attention back to him. He jerked a dart from his arm, and a massive wave of exhaustion swept through him.

Hold on. God, he just had to hold on. I’m coming.

What’s going on? Grey’s confusion snapped through her. She stumbled over the last step into a wider hall with similar dark wood floorboards and paneling, but no rug.

Nero needs—

Another blast of pain in her chest. Nero clutched the front of the tactical vest of the guy in front of him, his legs weak. The man sneered, yanked his three-inch knife from Nero’s chest, and slammed it back into Nero’s gut.

Becca’s knees buckled and she staggered, fighting to keep her balance. Nero howled. He shoved the man — helped by his wind — into another, but the weight of the second tranquilizer dose dragged at him, turning his thoughts muddy and filling Becca with a heavy fog.

He was going down. His panic clutched around his heart and hers. He had to protect his kids, and above all, he had to protect Becca.

You God damn stupid drake. I’m not helpless.

He dropped to one knee, and two men rushed to grab his arms.

Stand up, she barked at him. She was going to get him out of there. He just needed to hold on.

He struggled to rise. The closest man seized his wrist. If both of them got him, he wouldn’t be able to break free.

I said stand the hell up and fight, she roared.

He jerked up and slashed a whip of wind at the man holding his wrists. The guy released him with a yelp, and the other man lunged in. Nero wrenched out of reach. Gunfire roared beside him and more agony sliced into his chest.

He dropped to his knees again.

No. Stand.

He heaved himself up but couldn’t catch his balance. His breath burned. He’d taken too many shots to the chest, and with the second tranquilizer dose, he could barely think.

She was running out of time and still hadn’t come across anyone in the house. Where the hell was Grey? Where the hell was anyone? She had to get to Nero but had no idea how. Even if she knew where the facility was, she wouldn’t be able to drive there in time. She needed someone who could make a gate, but the house was massive and no one was awake at this hour.

A roar filled her, and she screamed her helplessness into the dark hall. She didn’t know what she had with Nero, they’d barely met, but she knew him more intimately than she’d ever known anyone else and she couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not when he was the only one who made her feel stable and sane.

Somebody. Please. Anyone who can make a gate.

Becca. That was Grey, but he sounded far away, caught on the other side of Nero’s desperate thoughts and woolly sedation.

I need a gate. Now. She rushed through a dark kitchen and down another hall. Please. I have to get to him. I need a gate.

The world shuddered and blackness enveloped her. Darkness, deeper but not as bone-weary as the tranquilizer, swept around her. For a second, less than two rapid pounds of her heart, up and down vanished and she was surrounded by nothing. Then her foot hit something solid and slippery—

She tumbled backward as cold bit her bare skin and her gaze darted over surprised men in tactical gear, standing on an empty nighttime street surrounded by brown-brick buildings.

Nero roared, and she heard it in her head and with her ears. Her butt hit icy asphalt and her attention leapt across the street to him. He was on his knees, two men holding him down, his gaze locked on her, his eyes wide.

She scrambled to her feet, lunged at the man closest to her, and grabbed the top of the handguard of his M4. There wasn’t time to think about how she’d gotten there. What was important was gaining a weapon, getting out from the middle of the enemy, and getting Nero to safety. The man yelped, wrenched his M4 from her grip, and staggered back. She heaved forward, determined to keep him off balance and to stay moving, to make herself a harder target to shoot.

He jerked the butt of his gun at her face. She heaved back and a tranquilizer dart embedded into the front of his vest. She dove to capture his M4 as another dart bit into her shoulder.

Nero screamed. She hit the quick release catch on the M4’s sling and wrenched around as the tranquilizer’s weight flooded her. Darkness swarmed her vision and her knees buckled. Nero roared again, but she couldn’t tell if she heard it or if it had just been in her head.