The sun was setting. "It's a trap," Roku said.

Calla growled, "Of course it's a damn trap." She crossed her arms and looked out over the exposed park. It was ringed by houses on all sides, white-picket fences, two point five kids. People were walking the paths and having picnics. She couldn't just drop in as a dragon and haul her mate off by the scruff, much as she wanted. Her support team was already infiltrating the park, running laps, chatting in pairs, or pretending they had a kid on the jungle gym set. They waited for her signal. As soon as she gave one, this place would erupt in hand-to-hand combat. Not as conspicuous as a dragon, but still not normal for a weekend evening in the park.

The cognate was out in force in the center of the park, where the trees were heaviest. They had easy-ups and a grill going. Calla wanted to bend the metal in half. She was pissed that the cognate had stolen her mate, but she was even more infuriated at herself for leaving him. It had been the right move, she had a chance to call in backup, but it still felt wrong in her heart and now Mateo was cuffed and gagged.

"Why isn't he fighting them?" Roku asked, shading his eyes for a better look at the milling vampyrs.

"A vampyr picnic," Annika said, her voice disbelieving.

"If those cuffs are anything like mine, he can't," Calla said. "He's as weak as a human and they'll put him to sleep if he tried."

"They kept you from shifting." Roku looked at her. "That's why they could get away with you from the castle. It didn't make sense that you wouldn't have just shifted and eaten him."

"I almost did. They have powyr that has nothing to do with their vampyr nature," Calla said. "It's strong, but it requires concentration." She grimaced. "Thank our Khepreian ancestors for that."

"So, what's the plan?"

"Well, I was hoping to drop in and steal Mateo. Leave before anything could get started." Calla sighed. "But it looks like we're going to have to parlay."

Roku grunted. "Even a human fight will draw attention."

"We may not have a choice. I'm not letting them keep him." Calla made her decision, striding across the grass in a direct line for the fake cookout. Her movement triggered each of her support group to do the same, for a total of ten dragons bearing down on the cognate from all directions.

The vampyrs came to attention. Six total, including Mateo who wasn't only bound but out of the fight. Calla needed those cuffs off him, but even without his help, the vampyrs were outnumbered this time. A flight of dragons would do that. Kragen bristled at her, showing his fangs. Estophen stood from a lounge chair and slowly waved his hand in a circle. The familiar tingle of powyr tickled across Calla's skin and she knew their entire group was now hidden from view. A fight in the park wouldn't draw any more attention than Mateo's vampyr form had in the middle of downtown LA.

"You are prompt, I must say," Estophen said, voice overly pleasant. "I wasn't expecting you to bring companions."

Calla jerked her chin at Mateo. "Take those bracers off and give him up."

Estophen frowned. "I'm not your soldier, dragon. You don't give me orders."

"Not an order," Calla said. And she lunged for the closest vampyr. Surprise was hers. Calla drove the vampyr to the ground and landed hard with her knees in his gut to drive the wind out of him. He wheezed. Roku's claws came down, swiftly removing the vampyr's head from his shoulders. First blood. Her lieutenant growled and ran for the next vampyr. He had partially shifted his entire body, and ran through the cognate as a large bipedal lizard. His tail whipped through the easy-ups and chairs, destroying the campout in seconds. "A polite suggestion. You see the consequences of rudeness."

Estophen assessed the dead vampyr, the dragons' superior numbers, with an impassive face—and furious eyes. He gripped Mateo's throat with five, black-clawed fingers and said, "I think you are the one who requires lessons in courtesy."

At some hidden signal, his vampyrs attacked. The scuffle was fast, and bloody—and not quiet. The sun beat down on the back of her neck, a hot breeze reminding her that she wanted to stretch her wings and take to the sky. Not play games with vampyrs in a foreign city. Mateo watched the proceedings, eyes calm, a sardonic smile on his lips. Arms crossed as he stood still, confined by whatever powyrful containment he'd submitted himself to. It was a front. His seething rage, the beast crawling in his chest to be let loose… she felt the same things.

The flight ended quickly. Three vampyrs were dead. Only Estophen and his Descents remained. Several of her dragons were bloodied. Annika had taken a deep gouge to her stomach and lay to one side, more still than Calla liked.

Estophen growled, "I was prepared to reason with you, but I see you're merely beasts."

Roku shifted back to human. "We don't reason with terrorists who kidnap our people. Let him go. Be on your way with what is left of yours."

All three vampyrs snarled, but Estophen saw the situation wasn't in his favor. Mateo held out his arms, and his sire disengaged the bracers. Mateo strolled towards her, rubbing his wrists. He leaned into Calla and said to his sire, "I didn't want this for either of us."

"Don't speak to me, betrayer."

Mateo stared at him, expression neutral. "I will see this situation is rectified, and your reputation is unharmed in the end."

Calla bristled. What kind of promise was that? What did the cognate have to give Mateo anymore that their family of dragons couldn't provide? And better? She kept her mouth shut but it was a close thing. They'd won the battle. She could bide her time for the war.

"No!" Kragen snarled. "You're not just walking away!" He broke from Ellie's hold and rushed for Calla, fangs and claws ready for her blood. She sighed. Mateo leapt between them, the flames of his vampyr powyr pulsing with her heartbeat. He took the blow meant for her. His brother's claws dug deep into his chest. Then Estophen was there in a blink to steal his Descent away and leave the dragons alone in the park.

Mateo collapsed. Calla rushed to him, applying pressure to the several punctures where Kragen's claws had sunk in. Blood seeped through her fingers. His eyes were hazy. Calla pressed harder. "Mateo, baby, you need to shift."

Around her, Roku took control of her support team. "Ellie, clear the climbing gym. Get everyone to leave. Saria, the joggers. Janek and Tanan, the other grill. Clear the park. Someone help Annika shift."

Mateo coughed and blood sprayed around his lips. Calla willed herself to remain calm and pressed that feeling through their link. "Mateo, focus your eyes. Look at me." She saw him respond to her voice, attempting to do as she said. "You need to shift. Right now. Pull your dragon out now or I'll do it for you."

"You can do that?" Roku asked.

"We're going to find out."

But they didn't have to. Mateo's eyes rolled back and his body heaved, not with a cough, but with the change. Calla applied pressure to his chest for as long as she could, breathing a sigh of relief when bronze and pale scales locked into place and the injury knit together. He groaned, but when the shift was complete, he rolled up to his feet and stood.

Roku put a hand on Calla's shoulder. "He's almost royal gold."

She just shook her head. Mateo swung his muzzle around and Calla reached for him. "I knew you wouldn't let me down," she said. "Let's go." Mateo shifted. He grabbed Calla tightly and held her, smelling her hair. Her clothes were a mess of his blood, but then, so were his. She hugged him back.

* * *

They all spilled boundlessly into the dragons' safe house, an out-of-the-way property with plenty of tree cover and room for all of them if people doubled up. Several of her support team crashed into sleep right away, but Calla found herself pacing the living room, too wired to sleep and far too twitchy to sit down. Roku kept her company, but he lounged on the couch and channel surfed while she rubbed her arms and ran through all the possible what-ifs. What if she hadn't been able to bring her team with her? What if Mateo hadn't been able to shift? What if one of her dragons had been killed?

Annika stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and a pile of clothes in her arm. "Calla, you should get out of those jeans." She tilted her head to the side, letting the freshly beaded braids in her hair clink together.

Calla accepted the clothes, then realized their purpose—Mateo's blood still covered her from top to toe. She sighed. "I'm a little shaken, Annika. We almost lost him. We almost lost you."

"But you didn't." Annika insisted with a nudge. "I've got a new scar to show off to my nieces and you have a messenger out front."

"What?"

"Get changed. Duro is waiting for you."

Duro? Calla jogged to her bedroom. Duro was a dragon from the island, he worked mostly in records and history keeping. But Calla hadn't asked for a scholar. She entered the bedroom quietly, but Mateo wasn't asleep. He sat on the edge of their bed, his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped. Calla knew he was upset about the vampyrs her team had killed, but she couldn't quite drum up the sympathy for him. The way she saw it, there were three fewer killers for hire in the world and someone needed to pay for sneaking her out of the castle and away from her Delphina. But… his sorrow was her own, and they'd been his family. She understood family, even if his was the worst ever.

So, she said nothing as she stripped, scrubbed the worst of the stains from her skin, and quickly dressed. Duro awaited her and Calla was very curious as to why.

Calla raked her damp fingers through her hair on the way out the door, trying to put it into some sort of order. One didn't meet a scholar of the realm disheveled if one could help it. Duro stood next to Saria, his height rivaling hers if she didn't count the horns on his head. Apparently, he'd never been able to shift them away in his human form. He and Saria were engaged in quiet conversation. If Duro noticed Calla's out-of-sorts appearance, he didn't mention it. "First General! It's an honor." He almost went to one knee but Calla grabbed his shoulder.

"We're out in the field, a simple salute is fine." He did so sharply and held the pose until Calla returned it. She laughed inwardly. How quickly she'd lost the habits of the court being out here on her own. Returning home might be as much of a shock to her as it would to Mateo. "Now, you had news?"

"I'm sorry, First General, it's more of a lack of news."

She shook her head. "I don't follow."

"Right. Excuse me for assuming." He bowed quickly. "Lieutenant Roku asked me to look into any records of missing hatchlings. I understood the details came from you?"

"That's correct. You're saying you couldn't find anything?"

"More that the results were inconclusive. Age isn't a whole lot to go on and the only dragons missing around that decade were the queen's clutch." Saria lifted an eyebrow in Calla's direction. Calla just shook her head. Duro continued, "We'd have better luck if you could provide me with a blood sample. I'll be able to compare the genetic lines that way and significantly narrow the search."

A blood sample. No way Mateo would go for that. Calla held up a hand. "Just… give me a second." She turned back to the cabin. Mateo didn't know she was pursuing this history, and he'd told her directly that he didn't want to get into it while they were dealing with the cognate.

Calla stopped at the bedroom door and sighed. She doubted this lull in their progress meant he'd consider the cognate business over with. Not when he'd made that promise to his sire about returning to make things right. Whatever that meant.

She pushed the door open, not ready to confront him about it, but unwilling to leave Duro waiting. The second the door opened her eyes fell on the pile of bloody clothes she'd left in the bathroom doorway and a solution clicked. Something about the way she entered caught Mateo's attention, but Calla marched right past him and gathered the bloody pants and shirt without a word. She found a plastic bag to stuff them into under the sink and left again, satisfied that she'd solved this without needing to agitate anyone. She didn't want to fight and Mateo was clearly focused on this problem with the cognate.

Outside, she handed Duro the small plastic bag and he looked at it, confused. "His blood," she said. "It's all over my jeans and shirt."

Duro glanced in the bag and his face paled a bit. "Um… that's plenty—" He closed the bag tightly. "I was expecting a vial or something…"

"I'm afraid I'm short one chemistry set."

"Of course, yes." Duro bobbed another bow. He radiated discomfort and held the bag out at arm's length. It was a good thing he was a scholar, he certainly wasn't cut out for the path of a warrior.

The cabin door snapped open sharply. Calla turned and saw Mateo framed in the doorway, his vampyr fire a blue halo around him. "What's going on?"

Calla said lowly, "Fly, Duro. That's an order."

"Yes, First General."

His change wasn't as fast as Calla hoped. Mateo strode towards them, his fury igniting as he approached. The look in his eyes and the emotion echoing down their link said he was afraid. Afraid and betrayed.

"I asked you a question, beast."