In the morning, Minach managed by some miracle to climb off the couch without disturbing Amara’s rest. By the time she’d risen and dressed, he’d cooked them each a breakfast of eggs and toast, which they devoured before slipping up to the roof of the building. Neither spoke of the previous night, of the quiet intimacy that they’d shared. Better, Minach supposed, to pretend it never happened.

The white townhouse’s rooftop terrace overlooked one of London’s more affluent neighbourhoods, the Parliament buildings and the London Eye, the city’s famous oversized Ferris wheel, visible in the distance. Minach had owned the flat for years and suspected that it was now worth upwards of five million pounds. One benefit of being descended from a long line of Dragon shifters, naturally, was wealth. He had never worried about money, never sought employment. Their kind was London’s modern nobility. Though most of the city’s human population remained unaware of their existence, the shifters essentially ran the place. If all went well on this trip, they would run it for years to come.

“Are you ready?” he asked Amara, who was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a cream-coloured blouse covered by a black jacket. She nodded as she looked out at the cityscape, slinging her backpack over her shoulders.

“Ready as can be,” she replied, though her look of nervousness betrayed a white lie. A strange state for the woman who’d always seemed in control of the world around her.

“Are you all right? You look a little shaky. Still hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” she said, a sheepish expression overtaking her eyes. Of course she was. She never spoke of it, but he knew perfectly well that the painful craving plagued her constantly. Minach sometimes forgot that an Enlightened was only a small step away from giving into temptation and turning to the other side, as the Forsaken had done. Those creatures were the truly lost, whereas Amara’s kind managed to possess a quiet dignity. The only difference between the two was the Enlightened’s ability to resist their desires, to fight off the sickness that tried so hard to win out over their minds. Their kind had shown a strength that a Dragon shifter could only imagine.

“I’m fine, really,” she said. “Let’s go to Cornwall and get this over with, shall we?”

Minach nodded, though the truth was that he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to bring her down to his bedroom, take her in his arms. To run a hand through her thick dark hair, to kiss her lips and tell her not to worry, that he’d look after everything. To be forbidden such succulent fruit was a cruelty. But it was his fault he found himself in this position. He’d allowed himself to grow too close to the beautiful half-breed. He’d asked that she accompany him on this trip.

He should have pushed her away properly a long time ago. The thought of enduring the next few days by her side had become a torment, but given her reluctance to acknowledge their closeness last night, he had no doubt that she’d help by keeping a safe distance. Surely he could be as strong as she was. He could resist the one thing he needed most, even if it was torture.

He pulled away from her, and in an instant he’d shifted into his silvery Dragon. Amara slipped onto his back, light as a feather. Astounding that such a slip of a woman could ever have displayed the speed and strength that he’d seen from her in combat. Of course, that had been months ago. Things had changed since that day, and not for the better.

“I’ll fly straight to our destination,” Minach told her, his Dragon’s voice finding its way into her mind, “but you let me know if you need to stop for any reason.”

“I will.”

Her hands pressed into the blue-white scales lining his long, graceful neck. This wasn’t first time she’d ridden his Dragon, but it was the first time they’d undertaken such a long trip together. Minach’s déor brimmed with concern over her comfort. He could feel the tension in her body as he took off, and he wished he could do something to alleviate the worry that was eating away at her mind.

It would take an hour or two to get to Cornwall, and then there was the matter of finding Duncan. Was that the thing that concerned her? Had she seen the other shifter in a vision, perhaps? The beautiful woman was so secretive.

“Any idea where we should go when we get there?” Minach asked when they were high in the air, leaving the bustling sights and sounds of London in their wake. He was really only making small talk, but it was better than the cold silence that seemed to have started up between them since they’d awoken that morning. He’d begun to wonder if Amara regretted her choice to curl up next to him. Well, even if she did, at least she’d managed to sleep, which was more than he could say for himself. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to sleeping while spooning, and his enormous, undying erection hadn’t helped matters.

“Not sure,” said Amara. “There’s a little town called Perthewey, not far from Land’s End. We can set down there and have a look about. Lumen didn’t tell you where this man is to be found?”

“Not exactly, no. It seems that no one but Kliev was ever in touch with Duncan, and we have no recorded address. Normally Lumen and Neko would track down that information, but they’re a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“Yes, of course. The baby.” He could hear the smile in Amara’s voice. Good, he thought. Keep smiling.

“Children,” moaned Minach’s Dragon. “Such a burden.”

“I disagree. They’re a blessing.”

“You want some of your own, I take it?”

Minach’s question was met with momentary silence.

“Yes, I do. But it’s unlikely that I’ll ever have any.”

“Right. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such an insensitive question.” Stupid Minach.

“It’s all right. If ever I find a way to gain strength I will happily put myself through the ordeal of childbirth. But for now, I’m not sure I’d survive, let alone what sort of life the poor baby would have, with my blood flowing through its veins.”

“Any baby would be fortunate to come from such a mother,” said Minach, surprising even himself with his kindness.

“Thank you for that,” Amara said, stroking his scales. It was an innocent gesture, of course. Had she stroked any part of his human form, he’d have found it impossible not to throw her down and beg her to let him inside her. But the Dragon was all but oblivious to her touch; his concern was only to protect her from discomfort.

After some time spent soaring over lush green fields and car-filled highways, the jagged shoreline of Cornwall began to unfold below them. Whitecaps beat against stone cliffs, boats came close to toppling on the waves.

“Ancient lands,” Amara said softly. “The home of Arthurian legends.”

“I’d forgotten that,” Minach replied. “King Arthur’s castle Tintagel is around here somewhere, isn’t it?”

“It is. It’s a wreck now, just a shell of a castle.”

“There’s another old ruin up this way, as I seem to recall. One where our shifter ancestors used to engage in delightful sexual rituals.”

“Oh really?” Amara’s voice told Minach that she wanted to hear more.

“I’m sure that you know that male shifters used to take one woman between two of them. For every woman, two male mates.”

“I’ve heard,” Amara said. “What a terrible ordeal that would be for a woman, to have to make love to two men at once.”

“If you think you’d be interested, I’ll see about cloning myself for your pleasure,” Minach replied. “Or else I’ll ask Trix for permission to borrow Lyre for a night.”

“That would be certain to do me in, Minach.” The words were laced with seriousness, but the Dragon heard the chuckle that rose up in Amara’s throat.

“Let’s see, that wasn’t a hard no. We’re making progress, then.”

The Enlightened let out another chuckle. It was nice to feel her relax on his back, even if they were flying together into the dangerous unknown.

“I think that’s Perthewey up ahead,” she said after a few minutes, getting back to business. In the distance, buildings of various shapes, colours and sizes were beginning to reveal themselves, accented by the occasional steeple.

“I’ll set down just outside the wee town,” said Minach, spotting a stone church tower on the outskirts of the small village. The place was quaint and homey. As they descended towards a small patch of grass, slate roofs shielding stone houses greeted their eyes, as well as the odd palm tree and exotic shrub.

The streets, however, looked all but deserted. Not even a car ambled along any of the roads in the vicinity.

“Strange,” Amara said, but she didn’t expand on the thought.

“Agreed,” Minach replied as his scaled feet struck the ground gently. When he’d stopped moving, Amara slipped off and landed on the soft grass, looking around as she waited for his shift.

“It’s so quiet here.” She hugged her arms about her shoulders as a shiver seemed to overtake her.

“Yes. I’d say ‘too quiet,’ but that’s such a cliché,” said Minach, who’d stepped up next to her in human form. He was hesitant to put an arm about her, much as he wanted to. “You warm enough?”

She nodded. “I’m not cold, actually. I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Yes. It’s odd, really. I don’t get nervous very often.”

“We’ll be all right, my lady. Just stay by my side, and I’ll protect you.”

“Pfft. As if I’ve ever needed protection in my life.”

“True. I’ve seen you at work; you are a stabby creature, aren’t you?”

They began to walk, Amara’s eyes set straight ahead, on the alert for threats. “Stabby is what one becomes when one has no natural defences like Dragon’s breath or giant canines.”

“It’s true, isn’t it? You don’t have the giant canines that I’ve seen on some Forsaken.”

“That’s because I’m not a Forsaken. Those are a mere consequence of their bloodlust. My body’s never evolved into that, thank God. Forsaken are more vampire than anything else.”

“And you are…?”

She shot him a warning glance. “I like to think I’m human, essentially. Human, with a Wolf tucked deep inside me somewhere. Only if she emerges will my weaponized fangs ever return to me.”

“I’d like to see your Wolf, you know,” Minach said, offering her an admiring look. “I imagine that she’s as lovely as you are. And I apologize if it seemed that I was comparing you to one of them. I hope you know that I consider you far superior in every way.”

“Minach, you’ll make me blush,” she replied, “and God forbid I should look healthy for a second.”

“I’ll make it my goal to make you blush constantly, then,” he said, his tone soft, seductive. What was happening to him? He was normally such a damned cynic, so far removed from the concept of affection, yet he felt it in droves for Amara. She turned him into a naughty teenager, forever trying to seduce the prettiest girl in class. Of course, in this case that girl was a dangerous, mysterious creature.

After a few minutes they found themselves at the town’s core, a little general store on their right, the requisite village pub on their left. Minach halted, sniffing the air as his brow furrowed.

“There’s a shifter nearby,” he said, reaching a hand to take Amara’s arm and stop her from advancing. Slowly he turned to face the shop. “More than one, I think. The place reeks of them. Let’s start our search in here.”

Inside, they found the place lined with shelves that were covered in everything from medicine to chocolate to champagne. A typical general store, really, except for the scent that eased through the air about them.

A young woman sat, shoulders hunched, on a stool behind the cash register. Her large eyes took in their every move as she cowered behind her small, insignificant wall of defence. Minach got the distinct impression that she perceived them as some sort of threat, though why, he couldn’t immediately tell.

Amara approached the counter cautiously, no doubt sensing the woman’s apprehension. “Excuse me,” she said, “do you know a man called Duncan Marlowe?”

The young woman’s already large eyes seemed to grow three sizes as she clamped her mouth shut. But she nodded, drawing her head to the side like a curious, nervous dog assessing a potentially dangerous object for the first time.

“Can you tell us where we’d find him? It’s rather important.” Minach’s tone remained calm, though a hint of impatience had already worked its way in.

The cashier shook her head. “No. Well, I mean…that is to say, you’ll find him, but he won’t be of any use to you.”

“I’m not sure how you could say such a thing when you don’t know why we’ve come,” the Dragon shifter growled, forcing the poor woman to cower even lower in her seat.

“It’s not that, sir,” she replied, her voice trembling. “It’s only that…he’s dead, you see.”