“Well, what can we do to reduce the anger?” Riyah asked in her calmest voice as the giant grizzly shifter with the blazing white eyes glared at her from across her desk.
“Ain’t no quick fix, Doc. You can kill me, that’s about it.” He He stood so quickly the chair behind him blasted backward and smashed into the wall, making yet another hole in the sheetrock. Great. “It was really fuckin’ nice to talk to you and get nothing accomplished but hey, at least I missed my shift at the commissary, and now I’m down another dollar of wage, so thanks a bunch for abso-fuckin-lutely nothin’.”
“Well maybe you should stop making shanks and plotting to kill your cellmate, Daniel,” she said cheerfully. “See you tomorrow.”
Daniel spat on the cement floor and flipped her off. Only his hands were in handcuffs behind his back, so she had to purse her lips against a smile at him struggling with his middle finger. Sometimes the inmates were awesome and wanted to improve their situation, and sometimes they were Daniels.
Two guards led him out of her office, and the door clicked closed behind him. She did her best not to jump out of her skin when he slammed his forehead against her front window and stared at her for three terrifying seconds before the guards shoved him down the hallway. Today had been a pill. And she missed Vyr. When she had these appointments, she shut him out so he didn’t get riled up. He didn’t like that she was in this room with the baddies of the prison. Didn’t like that he couldn’t help if she got in trouble. And sure, she was completely capable of handling herself in these situations since her training had prepared her for this job, but it was really nice having someone care if she was okay.
She pressed her finger on the screen of her tablet, waited for it to read her fingerprint, then entered in ilikebigdicksandicannotlie69 and then she said her name to get through all the security. When it opened up on her notes, she skipped to Vyr’s and began to read.
Subject Inmate: Vyr Daye
June 7 – First day of observation – Standoffish, defensive, very powerful, struggling for control, sick, defeated, quiet, angry, dragon is half-dead. Huge changes need to be made for him if he is to survive this another six months.
June 8 – Second day of observation – Last night was eventful. He was in my head. It was nerve-wracking at first, but then I was comfortable with him there very quickly. He controls a great deal of power, and no one knows what it’s like for him. This is a man who has been misunderstood his entire life, from the second he was born, and still, he hasn’t quit on humans. He didn’t stop trying to protect people from himself, even when they ripped him apart in the media. Flawed, deep-rooted anger stemming from childhood, showing a great devotion to very few, loyal, protective. Cute. He had a nosebleed though, and it opened my eyes to how bad things get for him locked down there. Things need to turn around immediately. I’m asking Emmitt to keep the lights on and give me 24/7 video access to Vyr. I’m also asking for an improvement to his diet and some sheets for his bed.
June 9 – Third day of observation. I can’t stop thinking about when the lights went off. The way his hand felt up my skirt. The way his lips felt against mine. The rasp of three-day stubble against my cheek. The way he tasted faintly of mint and smoke. The sound of his dragon growling and the hungry look in his eyes when the guards took me away from him. The way he immediately asked in my head if I was okay when I left his line of sight. The way I have five perfect fingerprint bruises on my thigh, and I think he did it on purpose just so I would think about him later. I should be terrified of that man, and not just because he could burn me, but because he feels like trouble. To my heart. And I can’t conjure up the fear I know I should feel because all I keep thinking about is how rough his hand was, but how soft his kiss turned at the end. I’m in trouble.
June 10 – Stayed up all night talking to a cute boy with red hair, and now I’m exhausted. Vyr is really, really different from what I thought he would be. I’m three coffees in. I just went into the cell, which Emmitt is now calling “The Lair,” but Vyr popped off that this hellhole wasn’t his lair. When Emmitt asked him what he meant, Vyr smiled like a demon and told him he should visit his mountains sometime. That his crew would probably welcome him right in. I had this vision of a silverback and a grizzly ripping Emmitt limb from limb, and I’m pretty sure that was Vyr’s imagination in my head. That was new. He projected into me. Am I getting more powerful? Or is he?
It's after lunch, and they aren’t feeding him right. Every time I complain, Emmitt points out that Vyr has somehow put on ten pounds of muscle since he’s been locked down there, which kind of blows my mind. The dragon gets weaker, and the man gets stronger. At least that’s what it looks like to the casual observer. Vyr had another nosebleed right before I left. It started as a trickle down his lip, and I pointed it out. I handed him a rag from his bathroom station, but a minute in, and the rag was soaked through. He asked me to leave, and I wanted to cry because I knew how it was going to be for him. I saw how it was on that video, and I don’t want him alone with the guards. They’re too rough when he’s weak like that. Vyr asked the guards to take me away when I refused to go, and they did. And now I’m sitting here looking at this ham sandwich, wishing I was eating in Vyr’s cell with him, splitting my lunch, giving him half my sandwich and half my chips and half my orange Fanta. And a potato. I wish I could give him a potato. He’s been hungry for starches lately. Craving them, and I think there is some serious nutrition missing from his diet. I think Emmitt is trying to weaken him with malnutrition, but it’s not working. Tomorrow they are going to let him Change. I say “let him” but it’s really “force him” to Change. They like him to Change in a controlled setting, if anyone can really control the Red Dragon. Everyone is bustling around preparing for the Change in some place they call ‘The Dungeon,’ and meanwhile I annoyed Emmitt enough to do a surprise for Vyr when he’s done.
Sometimes I want to tell Vyr to burn this place to the ground.
I shouldn’t write that, shouldn’t even think it, but it’s there in the back of my mind. This constant, buzzing wish that grows bigger every time I see him mistreated. I wish he could escape and hide forever, but where on this planet can the Red Dragon stay a secret? He’s too big and too destructive. I can see why his father wanted him in here. I’m pissed that he helped, but I understand Vyr has to serve this sentence if he wants to have a shot at living a life where he isn’t on the run.
Clara just texted the burner phone. I don’t understand what “Incoming” means, but it feels big. And yep, I’m now writing my notes on my tablet because, apparently, I can’t stay professional with Vyr, and I need a secure way to write down my thoughts on all of this. His notes have gone from professional observations to what looks like my middle-school-self’s Hello Kitty diary when I had a crush on Gus Naydor.
“Who’s Gus Naydor and where does he live?” Vyr asked in her head. His voice was a little too careful.
With a grin, Riyah checked that the hallway outside of her office was clear, leaned back in her rolling chair, and flicked her fingers. The blinds closed instantly, and on her desk, a pen stood upright and began scribbling a heart onto a yellow notepad. “Jealous?” she asked in a low murmur so no one walking by outside the office would hear her. Shifters had impeccable hearing though, so she set the phone right beside her just in case she needed to fake talking on it if anyone barged in.
“I told you, I don’t feel. Jealousy is a feeling, therefore no. I don’t want to burn Gus Naydor and devour his ashes.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Beast.”
“I wish I could take you out.”
The admission was sudden, and Riyah sat up straighter in her chair. “I haven’t been on a date in over a year. What if I’m a total bore, and you don’t like me anymore?”
“I would give a helluva lot to have you bore me over dinner. We both know I’m not getting out of here, though. Forget it. I was just talking.”
She moved the pen’s rhythm to make a crack down the center of the heart. “If you do get out, will you ask me out sweetly?”
“What, like writing it across the sky? Hot air balloons and signs?”
“No, not something expensive. I don’t care about that stuff. Just ask me sweet.”
There was a mental sigh and then, “Well, it’s good that money isn’t your love language because this dragon is broke as hell. The government froze my accounts when I burned Covington, and now they’ve drained them all for damages to the town. I was a rich boy, and now I’m a—"
“Regular guy. Lucky you.”
“Regular guy. Who turns into a dragon. Who watches guards run themselves ragged to plan my Change for two days before they shoot me full of drugs that force a Change and make my dragon sick the entire time. There is nothing regular about my life.” There was a pause. “I used to be fine with that, and then I met you.”
Riyah frowned and changed the pen’s rhythm again, drawing a bubble-letter I above the broken heart, retracing it over and over. “What do you mean you aren’t fine with being yourself anymore? I don’t want that. I want you to be happy with you.”
“I mean that I can’t…”
“Can’t what, Vyr?”
“Never mind. I’ll be back later.”
“Vyr!”
But she couldn’t feel him there anymore. Couldn’t feel the dull ache behind her eyes that said he was present.
Runner.
Sadly, she waved her fingers gently through the air, and without touching the pen, she changed the rhythm again and drew a bubble-letter U under the broken heart. She shouldn’t feel so strongly about someone this fast. She should be questioning it and running away, but he was here, steady, listening to her, caring about her, wanting to be a part of her day. It wasn’t that she was avoiding loneliness either. She hung on every word Vyr said because each seemed important. Like the rest of her life was blurry, but when she and Vyr were together in her head, he was drawn up in fine focus and everything else could burn for all she cared.
The headache came back with a vengeance and she startled when Vyr said, “I can’t have you. Because of what I am, where I am, and all the messed-up parts of my life, I can’t have you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to lose the dragon, and even if part of me lives, will I really be alive? I’ll never fly again, never touch the clouds. I will be earthbound and missing the biggest part of me, and I’ve seen this. I’ve seen what happens when shifters lose their animals. They don’t come back from that. Usually they beg for death anyway. Even if I live through this and could take you out on a date when I get out…I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Even if it’s what I want?”
“Wants and needs are very different when you are around a man like me, Riyah. You might want me, but you need better than anything I could ever give you.”
“Vyr—”
“Something’s happening. Emmitt’s pissed. He’s in his observation room yelling at someone on the phone about no more inmates are to be brought to the lower levels. Can you find out what’s going on?”
“Yeah. I’ll bring you with me.” Riyah bolted out the door, but the hallway was empty and too quiet. What the hell?
She rushed down the tile hallway, her black pumps clicking against the tile floor with every hurried step. She passed the upper level cafeteria, but the group of inmates who were scheduled to be eating right now were nowhere to be seen. Trays were left where they were, food half eaten, cups were overturned, water was dripping down the side of one table. The only person remaining was one of the kitchen staff named Euless.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
The old man didn’t even look up at her, just continued to sweep up a mess one of the inmates must’ve made before they left. “New inmates are being brought in,” he said in a bored voice.
“Do they lock down the entire facility every time there are new inmates?”
“Nope.”
She stood in the open doorway, waiting a few seconds before she got irritated and barked, “Euless! What’s going on?”
With a sigh, he leaned on the broom and glared at her. “Nox Fuller and Torren Taylor are here.”
Riyah went dumb. There was an entire three-count where she just stood there with her mouth hanging open. “Th-the-the…crew?” They did it?
“Yep. The Red Dragon’s crew is gonna be in the same building as him, and everyone is freaking the fuck out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have mixed vegetables to clean off the floor, because that’s what I do. I clean up after grown men like they are three-hundred-pound toddlers. I hate my life. Have a good day.”
Right. “Okay, see you later, Euless. You’re doing a fine job.” Riyah speed-walked away, continuing her journey down the long, abandoned hallway. She waited until she passed the camera up in the corner before she whispered, “Vyr.”
“Yeah? I’m here. What’s happening? You shut me out. Is it bad?”
She panted as she jogged in her damn high heels toward the front, barred window. She looked out on the grounds. It was all mowed grass, barbed wire fences, and security towers with a dozen weapons trained on a white transport van.
There were twenty guards, at least, surrounding two men that were stepping out of the van. The first was blond with piercing blue eyes and a full beard. He was laughing like a lunatic, and then he went serious in a flash and lurched at one of the guards, who flinched back. The man laughed again. Even from here, with her less-sensitive human hearing, she could make out his voice clearly. “You should’ve seen how stupid your face looked, man! It matched your stupid looking hair.” He was built like an eighteen-wheeler. Oh, she’d done her research. He was the half-crazed loner grizzly shifter and only son of the Cursed Bear, Clinton Fuller. He was a monster when he Changed and was notorious for fighting everyone and everything. She was staring at none other than Nox Fuller.
Another man followed right behind him, handcuffed just like the blond, wearing a matching tan prison outfit, his neck and arms completely covered in tattoos. He was taller than the other, much wider in the shoulders, with jet black hair, a short beard, and blazing green eyes. He wore a smirk on his face, like he was amused by Nox’s trash-talk. Torren Taylor, aka HavoK, aka the new Kong—biggest, baddest, brawler silverback shifter in existence. He was also completely devoted to his best friend and alpha.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
“What?” Vyr asked.
“I wish you could see this. They did it.”
“Who?”
“The Sons of Beasts are here.”
She was met with stunned silence.
“Vyr,” she murmured, watching the guards escort the two giants into the prison. “Your crew came for you.”