Chapter 5.

 

Like two prize fighters pummeling the crap out of him, rage and agony slammed into Jamie. All morning, they’d been at it, from the moment he’d awoken from the dream. Now, as he rode the elevator toward Lucian Fowler’s office, the attacks doubled.

The Rite! his Dragon boomed. You defiled our most sacred Rite!

“If that’s what it takes to win, then so what? Who gives a damn about some ancient tradition?”

Rage. The world melted into a red blur under the fire of his Dragon’s fury. He felt its anger spiraling, twisting back on itself. Then its maw, filled with razor-sharp fangs, closed on its own shoulder. Pressure… lights exploded behind Jamie’s eyes as that powerful jaw clamped tight. Piercing through scales that could shrug off bullets… writhing, ripping…

“Stop!” His legs gave out beneath him and he crumbled to the floor, screaming.

It’s a trick! A trick, I swear!

The pain didn’t relent at all. Oh hell, what if he actually Fell? What if his idiot Dragon couldn’t see the long plan?

I will protect her! he howled silently. I will make this right, I promise!

At last, the unbearable pressure eased. It was listening to him.

I will Claim her properly. You have my word. She will be my Mate in truth, okay? Just… wait a month or so.

Skeptical silence. But at least it wasn’t tearing itself – and him – apart.

‘Ding.’

The door slid open, and jubilant laughter filled the elevator.

Fowler. Jamie grabbed the elevator’s railing and hauled himself to his feet. No surprise the Worm found this amusing.

“Oh, I remember that.” Chuckling, he offered Jamie a hand. “Let me tell you, you’re in for a fun month. This will happen every damned day until you finally rip those wings off.”

Somehow, Jamie suspected his Dragon would finish the chore in a lot shorter time. “Tell me you’ve got scotch.”

“I do. Personally, I recommend something stronger. Like meth or heroin. This is going to sting like a bitch.”

“Scotch will do.” He limped to a chair and collapsed. “Won’t be much use if I’m strung out for a month.”

“Suit yourself.”

The first sip of single-malt filed the edge off the pain thundering in his head. Jamie leaned back and let the whiskey do its work. When he opened his eyes, he found Lucian studying him.

“You’re making good progress on Ascension.”

“Thanks.”

You didn’t have to fake it that well, he scolded his Dragon. A blast of seething anger was his only response. Reminding him that he played with fire: his Dragon wasn’t faking its outrage.

“And you’ve got great timing. I just received some information that made me think you might not be sincere about wanting to join the Fangs.”

Inside, Jamie’s pulse picked up as the Game began again. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” The Worm stared fixedly at a spot just above Jamie’s shoulder. Watching his Dragon, no doubt. Shifters could recognize each other and catch glimpses of another Shifter’s soul. “But you’re legit. Damage like that can’t be faked.”

See? That’s why I…

His Dragon snapped at its wing again and Jamie hastily stopped baiting it.

“So, who’s talking shit about me?” Couldn’t be a spy in the Flight. Even his own Alpha didn’t know where he was.

“No one. You remember my secretary, Judith Little?”

“Skinny Hare that interviewed me. Yeah.”

Shadows pooled in Lucian’s eyes, transforming them into black gems. Fascinated, Jamie watched. He’d never seen a Worm fight to control his anger. A Dragon’s eyes burned incandescent when that happened.

“Ms. Little has betrayed me. I believe she intends to subvert the Fangs or seek to leave our service.”

Uh oh. Sounded like somebody needed rescue. And nothing played havoc with undercover work like trying to save some idiot.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“She’s the one who confirmed you. It’s… unusual for a Dragon to join us before he’s fully become a Worm.” Lucian’s eyes lingered on him a moment, then he shrugged. “But as I said: your injuries vouch for you.”

See?

Grrrrrrr…. his Dragon rumbled back.

“So, I’ve decided to give Ms. Little to you.”

Puzzled, Jamie pushed himself upright. “As in, a mistress?”

“No. As in a job. Kill her. Then get rid of the body.”

“Okay. Now?” Mind spinning, he considered the problem. How the hell could he get that girl out of the city without blowing his cover?

“Tomorrow night. Little is running an errand for me now. She’ll return tomorrow afternoon. I don’t care when you do it, but it has to be before 7:30 pm. That’s when she’s meeting my researcher, Maya Graham.”

His Dragon perked up at his ‘Mate’s’ name. An odd, unfamiliar feeling flooded Jamie. Nervousness? Fear? No, nothing that weak. This was fiercer, stronger. A longing that urged him to kill Lucian where he stood.

That Worm has noticed our Mate. We should slay him.

Okay, his Dragon was talking again – rather than trying to tear itself apart. Good sign.

“Is Graham part of this treachery?”

“No.”

So his ‘Mate’ might truly be a Fang. Wonderful.

“Pay her a visit tomorrow morning, first thing. See if her research helps you pinpoint your Alpha’s Wellspring.”

No shocks there. ‘Beverwyck’ was an old name for the area around the Stiles farm, where the first Wellspring awoke. As the first and primary Wellspring, his Alpha, Brandon Lorde, protected it. Once Jamie had heard ‘Beverwyck’, the Fangs’ goal became obvious.

Though a visit with Maya was a good thing. It gave him time to chat up his ‘Mate’ and see if she worked for the Fangs of her own free will, or if they held some relatives hostage.

He hoped she was an innocent victim. He expected it, since his Dragon had chosen her to Claim. But he and his Dragon had some sharp disagreements over the years. He wouldn’t put it past the damned serpent to expect him to ‘redeem’ some fallen woman. A rescue he did not have the time or patience for right now.

Still, Lucian’s urgency surprised him. “Why first thing? Something happening?”

“It’s an important project and I want it done soon.” Lucian swirled his scotch. “Plus, I have her office bugged, and it’s clear she’s becoming erratic. Ms. Graham may need to be ‘managed.’ Which, of course, always kills productivity and morale.”

HE THREATENS OUR MATE!

Ah, hell! Even as the first touch of rage hit him, Jamie was already doubling over, eyes tightly shut. If Lucian saw the light of a Dragon’s rage in them…

Stop! He’ll know I’m a fake. I can’t save her if you don’t trust me.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec.” Silently, he begged his irate Dragon to settle down. “I guess killing Hares gives somebody vapors.”

Lucian chuckled, but asked, “Will that be a problem?”

“No. Meadowlands still a good place to dump bodies?”

“It’s a little more challenging with the Sports Complex traffic but yes, there are still plenty of private spots.”

“Good…” Jamie paused, testing his Dragon’s temper. When its fury dimmed to mere annoyance, he risked opening his eyes. “I’ll take care of this, then.”

“Excellent.” Lucian toasted him and tossed back the last of his drink. “And if you need something stronger than whiskey, let me know.”