Even the rich scent of fresh coffee couldn’t hold Dakota’s attention. Still lost in that dream, she could not pull herself fully into this lonely, empty world. Why should she, when dreams were more real, more fulfilling? Michael’s arms around her, protection against all the world’s sorrows. The taste of his lips, the feel of him inside her. His mastery, the control with which he brought them, both of them, to ecstasy.
How could a dream feel so real? Hell, how could sex be that good?
The ringtone of her phone finally dragged her out of those memories. A call could only mean one thing.
Time to check in.
“Hello?”
A cool, familiar voice replied, “Good morning, Miss Vance. This is Mr. Alester’s secretary, Mariset.”
Was that a first name or a surname?
“Mr. Alester wanted me to make sure that your accommodations are acceptable.”
“Yes. They’re, um, fine.”
“And your cover story?”
“What?”
“Is it clear? Do you have any questions about it?”
“No. Uh, no.”
A pause, then Mariset murmured, “Do you have company?”
“No. I’m here alone.”
“Really? You seem distracted. Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just early and I, uh, had a strange dream I can’t quite get out of my head.”
“Tell me.”
“It was nothing.” Alone in her kitchen, Dakota blushed. No way in hell she was telling anybody about that dream!
Ice frosted the Hare’s words. “Don’t withhold information, Miss Vance. You’re venturing into a world of magic and Shifters – things you know nothing about. Any detail, even one that seems innocent to you, could prove fatal.”
That reproach stung but it also roused her to anger. If this project was so dangerous, why had they chosen an ‘ignorant’ person like her? “It was just a very vivid dream.”
“Full sensory input? Taste, smell, touch?”
“Yes.”
“What was the subject matter of this dream?”
Color crept higher up her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sexual?”
Could this woman not take no for an answer? “I said…”
A soft exclamation interrupted her. “Let me guess,” Mariset said. Her voice dropped to an excited, greedy whisper. “You met your neighbors yesterday. The Dragons. Then one of them appeared in your dream.”
The phone almost slipped through her fingers. “How do you know that?”
Silence answered her question.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Vance. I don’t believe you’ll be able to help us bring your sister’s murderer to justice.”
“What? No!” Dakota yelped with outrage.
“The danger is too great. I want you to get in your car, now, and drive away. Where, doesn’t matter. Just get away.”
The Hare’s concern might have been touching – if she was capable of faking human emotions. But despite her dire words, Mariset didn’t sound the least bit upset. If anything, she seemed…well, eager. Suspicious, Dakota wondered what her game was. “Because of some stupid dream? No. I don’t give up that easily. Tell me what’s going on.”
“In this ‘dream’, did anyone use the phrase ‘the Rite of Claiming’?”
“Y-yes,” Dakota stammered, shocked that she would know this.
“That’s what I was afraid of. Miss Vance, the Rite of Claiming is how a Dragon chooses his next victim. It creates a bond between them, so that the Dragon can find its prey no matter where they hide.”
Dakota sank to the kitchen floor, numb with shock.
Michael had tagged her? “He said I was his Mate…”
“Yes. And, like the praying mantis, Dragons devour their Mates. Usually in the midst of some sexual ritual too depraved for me to describe.”
But he’d held her, comforted her. Sheltered her when her sister’s loss overwhelmed her.
Could this be true? Could the man who had touched her with such love, such longing, truly hurt her?
No. She couldn’t believe it. Could she?
As she wavered, the Hare drove in the final nail. “I imagine this is how Owen Jackson tracked your sister down.”
Like a blow to the stomach, those words knocked the wind out of Dakota and reminded her of the one unyielding truth.
Cally was dead. Someone killed her.
And for the first time in her life, she had a chance to find out who – and why. How could she let herself be swept off her feet by some foolish nocturnal tryst? She wasn’t here to chase silly lies like ‘true love’.
She needed to find her sister’s killer.
“Miss Vance? Are you there?”
“Yes. Look, I’m not leaving. I need to find out what happened to my sister.”
“But…”
The doorbell rang, and once again, she nearly dropped her phone on the floor. “Someone’s here. I have to go.”