Mateo extended his powyr around himself, Calla, and Roku, ensuring their flight wouldn't be seen across the city. He was at his limit covering three people, and while Calla had wanted to bring more of her crew, Mateo put his foot down. Without the sight shield of his powyr, how did she expect to fly ten dragons across the city in fifteen minutes? To his surprise, Roku had agreed. A small, fast team was better, and Calla had ceded to him.

Her fire to lead and dominate the battlefield drove Mateo to push himself even further, and he was inordinately pleased when Calla gave way to him. She knew her way around the politics of a battle, but this fight was Mateo's to finish and he needed it. Maybe he needed to prove it to himself, that he was the kind of man who could fall for a woman like Calla without losing all that he was to her. Their mating was explosive, but Mateo worried he would be eclipsed in her fire.

Calla circled lower in the sky and Mateo followed. Roku took the rear. One at a time, they landed in a mostly-deserted street. A dead end off a dead end that only held a few houses against the hillside. Not the most affluent of neighborhoods, judging by the four run-down cars parked on the street, two with flat tires. The three of them shifted. And once human, Mateo released the powyr that kept them uninteresting and therefore unseen. He took a deep breath to rejuvenate himself and shared a look with Roku. They were about to confront the man who had called for Calla's head. They would end this for good.

Mateo took the lead. The address he'd discovered led them to the end of the street, where a single-story home with a failing wood fence had seen better days. The garage was open, and a man was hunched over the popped hood of a car inside. With Calla and Roku flanking him, Mateo approached and cleared his throat for attention. "Are you Stephan Valek?"

"Yeah, who's asking?" The man reached deeper into the engine he was working on.

"Mateo Guerin of the cognate."

That got his attention. Stephan turned to look at them, took in their serious expressions and intent body language, and ran. He scrambled deeper into the garage, fast for a human. Vampire fast. Mateo pursued. Stephan grabbed a handful of something on his work bench and threw it like dust into Mateo's face. It burned. He hissed and backed away, scrubbing the substance with his t-shirt. Roku lunged through the chemical and Stephan grunted as he was pinned. Mateo cleared his eyes and saw that Roku had transformed his left hand into the claws of his dragon and Stephan had thought better of fighting back in the face of such odds. His hands were up and he tried to look anywhere but at Roku. The dragon growled low in his chest.

"Stephan Valek," Mateo said, "you hired the cognate to kidnap and kill Calla Andris, did you not?"

"No, no, no! You got the wrong guy." Stephan laughed, a sound pitched too high to be natural. "I'm just the messenger, I don't need no one's head."

"Messenger?" Calla asked.

"Yeah, yeah. You know, I hear a guy has a problem, I get in contact with the cognate, act as a go-between—"

"And take a cut of the payment," Mateo growled.

"Gotta make a living, man." Stephan shrugged.

Calla sighed. "Then who hired the cognate?"

"I donno, lady. I just take the—" Roku snarled and bared his growing teeth. "Okay, okay!" Stephan waved his hands. "I don't know his name, he called himself T, like the letter. Everything was by phone. Super hush-hush."

"Where's the phone?" Mateo demanded.

Stephan turned one wrist and pointed towards the car. Mateo turned, but Calla found the cell first, propped up near the engine. She shuffled through the screens. "When did you get your assignment, Mateo?"

"The day before the concert."

She scrolled. Then frowned. "This can't be right." Calla looked up, her eyes guarded. "This is a Patomas area code. From the crown city."

Mateo narrowed his eyes at Stephan. "What else can you tell us?"

Roku growled for emphasis. Stephan shook his head. "I don't know nothing, I swear. That phone number is all I got."

"Mateo, we have to get home and find this T person. We need to know who's moving against the court." Calla put her hand on his arm, but he didn't need the contact to feel her alarm pulsing in the link they shared. He agreed. It was long past time they went to the island.

"What do you want to do with this one?" Roku asked around a mouthful of dragon teeth.

"He's just a pawn," Calla said, grabbing Mateo's hand.

She was right. "Secure him so he can't warn his employer, Roku, but don't kill him. We've got bigger fish."

Roku released Stephan, but growled in his face until the man fled into this home, ensuring they wouldn't be followed or the direction of their flight tipped off. Mateo nodded his thanks, then wrapped his powyr around all three of them once more. It was time to face his heritage as a dragon, and clear the bounty on Calla once and for all.

* * *

Calla decided not to send word ahead that she was on her way home. Whoever had set this plot in motion was here on the island, and she wanted a chance to discover exactly who had tried to undermine the court. This war with the clans couldn't be allowed to escalate further. She left Roku and his team at the door to the great hall. They needed to report in with General Takoda as soon as possible and Calla had no doubt that bursting in on the king would bring everyone running. Time was of the essence, though.

Calla pushed the hall doors open wide and strode in. Her life had been flipped upside down and now it was time to take control again. The Pythian stood up from his throne as she interrupted what appeared to be a meeting of the generals. Good. Everyone in one place would make this go much faster. The crowd of dragons parted before their First General until no one stood between her and her Pythian. She went to one knee, her fist firm on the warm marble floor, and took a breath.

Before she could speak, the Pythian pointed behind her. "Stop him."

The generals moved quickly to keep Mateo from approaching the throne. Calla winced internally. She should have left him at the door with Roku. No stranger would have been allowed to waltz up to their sovereign, not even on the word of the First General. She was pleased when General Takoda took Mateo by the elbow and guided him to one side, whispering quickly in his ear. He would explain the protocol.

Calla bowed her head as the Pythian stepped off his dais. It was lower, and slightly to the left of the empty Delphina's seat at the center of the room. But that seat had been vacant for years as her madness drove her insane. The Pythian had been their guiding light for all those years, even as his mate was their strongest weapon on the battlefield.

"Get up, Calla," he commanded.

Calla rose, offering the king a crisp salute. He frowned at her and looked down at his hands and, one by one, removing the rings of station from his left hand. She pressed her lips together, accepting the coming reprimand. She'd ignored a direct order. Not even the First General was immune to the laws of the court.

He spoke clearly for all to hear, "Calla Andris, you disregarded our direct order, failed to report the details of your actions to your handler, neglected your duty, and have taken on some gallivanting side quest that put both yourself and Lieutenant Roku's team in danger."

"Sir."

"This," he said, speaking over her firmly, "is your official reprimand." He whipped the back of his hand against Calla's cheek.

The force of the blow snapped her head backward—it was no mere show. She tasted blood inside her mouth and swallowed, expression stoic. The Pythian replaced his rings one at a time, giving her time to retain her composure—not that she needed it. She was first, and foremost, a soldier.

"Sir, I need to report."

His eyes were cool. "And you will, in due time. You will be placed in holding, attended by our physician, and debriefed until we can ascertain whether or not you have been compromised."

That was an ugly shock—though she should have expected it. "Sir. I have reason to believe a dragon in Patomas was behind the order for my assassination. I need to follow the lead."

"General Takoda will investigate."

The general in question strode forward. "I'm sorry, Calla, but you know we have to strip you of duty until we know you're clean of vampy influence."

"Am I a dragonling, that I can't control my mind around a few bloodletters?" she asked, acerbic.

"Everyone can be suborned under the right circumstances, General," the Pythian said, eyes hard—voice kind. "It is no reflection on your service or loyalty. Merely the reality of the situation. And should the Delphina sense a taint…"

He didn't have to say anything else. For all that her lady sovereign wasn't quite sane, her powyr functioned lethally well. If the Delphina sensed something ill, Calla would die. She lowered her head. The Pythian nodded approvingly. It wasn't her job to make his more difficult, but to obey. The court needed her cleared and functioning as fast as possible. Soldiers surrounded her in a blink, likely on some small signal from Takoda.

A growl sounded behind her, and a muffled imprecation. She lifted a hand, glancing over her shoulder. "Mateo, it's all right."

"Don't put your fucking hands on me—" Mateo snarled. Calla heard a scuffle break out, and the sounds and roars of several dragons in human form—her mate included. But as strong or as lethal as he was—he was outnumbered. She gritted her jaw, looking forward, saying nothing. To appear partial would make the process harder.

"Pythian—he sacrificed a great deal to come here with me."

But the Pythian wasn't looking at her. His eyes were narrowed, and he gestured. "Bring him forward."

"Mateo, cooperate," she growled. "This is procedure."

"Fuck procedure." He gave her a hot look as he came to stand at her side—well, not literally at her side as they were now both buffeted by soldiers.

Mateo stared at the Pythian. "This is how you treat your First General?"

"Are you saying there is no member of your cognate capable of be-spelling her will?" the Pythian asked, voice mild.

Mateo snorted, crossing his arms, and stared at the male in front of him. Calla watched the Pythian closely, observed as her lord stared Mateo down.

"Have we met before?" the Pythian asked. "You are familiar to me."

"I'm a rock star. Hadn't you heard?"

"When I've been cleared," Calla said, voice soft, "I have something to tell you." The Pythian turned his head, pinned her with a stare. "I think you should keep Mateo under close guard, and only your most trusted men."

Mateo's head whipped around to stare at her, nostrils flaring. "Calla?"

"Trust me. Please."

His powyr flared, and the taste of it… she closed her eyes. Here, in her home, she was certain. No wonder she'd fallen for him so easily, accepted the mate bond without second thought. He tasted just like the woman she loved over all others. His powyr fanned through the room, and the wild scent of it was underscored with the wild scent of his mother.

She opened her eyes. The Pythian was pale, face drawn. He, more than anyone else, would feel what she felt. She met his eyes, and nodded, once.

"Secure him in the blue wing," the Pythian said. Takoda started. The blue wing was the family wing—and the most secure… besides the state-of-the-art dungeon. "Take Calla there as well, but keep a suite between them."

General Takoda's brows snapped down. "Lord—"

"Do it."

* * *

Calla was guided to a plush, but small bedroom with no windows and only a single door. It was probably a converted closet. Takoda had a sense of… humor, she supposed. A bathroom stood off one wall, only separated by a curtain, and containing the smallest standing shower in the castle. Her jailer closed the door and locked it with a resounding iron thump. She knew two or three guards would be stationed outside, if not more, around the clock.

She slipped her shoes off and sat on the bed. It wouldn't be long before Mateo came to see her. She was sure of it.