Chapter 13

“So, you want me to do what exactly?” Sloane asked Rory.

She and Mateo had woken on the roof to a chilly drizzle dampening their scales. They’d shifted quickly and pulled the clothes they’d kept in plastic bags overnight onto their bodies before making their way to Wendy’s apartment.

Sloane hadn’t expected to sleep a whole lot, much less so late into the morning, but curled up in Mateo’s heat, her dragon had slumbered like a dragonling. When they’d gotten there, Wendy had already left for work, and Rory was sitting on the couch, punching stuff into a laptop he’d brought in.

“You’ll stay here and keep trying to get a hold of the dragons we weren’t able to reach yesterday. We need to warn them about the hunters. The list is next to the laptop. There are names and addresses, but no phone numbers. You’ll have to do some searching to find them,” Rory said.

Mateo had already explained it all, but she wanted to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

“If you can find more information online, that would help, too. Anything at all, even if you think it’s a long shot, make a note of it. That way, if we can’t get reach them by phone, maybe we can find them.”

Sloane looked at the list next to the computer, and her heart stuttered when her gaze fell upon her name. The shock of seeing it hadn’t lessened with subsequent viewings. Nope, it was still there in black and white, with a big, bold, red line struck across it. Like she was expendable. Fucking hunters.

“Where will you guys be?” Her thumb stroked across the screen of the new phone Mateo had given her. His number, along with Rory’s and Wendy’s, was programmed in. A few others were in there, too. Jace, Brycen, Luke… His clan mates, Mateo had said. Just in case things went wrong. Nothing had better go wrong, or I’ll be pissed.

“We’ve got a couple of leads on Alexandra, the hunt organizer, that we need to track down. If we’re lucky, we’ll find her and end this fast so we can all head back to Glen Farley.”

Mateo came out of the bathroom, black jeans hugging his hips, and he was pulling a black T-shirt over his drool-worthy chest. At least his injuries were gone.

He came to sit next to her on the couch. “You going to be okay here alone? We could always escort you to the café, and you could hang out with Wendy,” he offered.

From anyone else, she might have thought it condescending, but the way he said it warmed her from the inside out. He was worried about her. “No, it’ll be too hard to make the phone calls in a public place. Besides, I can always head to Cuppa Joe’s once I’m done.”

Mateo’s entire body stilled. “I’d rather you stay inside, or wait until I’m here to escort you.”

Sloane chuckled. “That trick won’t always work with me. Besides, you’ve got people to see, lives to save.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she lifted her hand, halting him before the words came. “I get that you want me to be safe. And I promise that I won’t take any undue chances, just as I trust you will remain as safe as you can while chasing down the hunters. If I decide to go out, I will take a cab directly to the coffee shop and go straight inside. It’s the middle of the day. They won’t be as bold as they were last night. I’ll even text you to let you know when I’m leaving and that I’ve arrived at my destination. Maybe you and Rory can come pick us up at seven? Wendy gets off work at that time.”

Mateo sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing the damp locks he’d just combed. “Okay, I can live with that.”

“It’s settled, then. Maybe we can get moving?” Rory asked. “We’re burning daylight.”

Mateo jammed his phone into his back pocket. “Don’t forget to text or call if you go anywhere. And by anywhere, I mean the coffee shop. Only there, right?”

“Yes, mate. Only the coffee shop.” She shook her head and grinned at him. When he rose, she did the same. He’d wrangled her into helping from the apartment, and she was glad to do so, but she didn’t kid herself. It had been to keep her home and safe. That same danger he wanted her away from would be around him, too. “Be careful out there.”

He nodded and pulled her into his arms as Rory stepped into the hallway. “You, too. I mean it. If something were to happen to you, the city would fall in a blaze of fire and ash,” he said, the fierce look in his eye reinforcing his dark promise.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes. “We’re agreed then. Nothing is to happen to either of us.” She pressed her lips to his, then moaned when his tongue slipped between them.

Digging his fingers into her hair right at her scalp, he held her where he wanted her, plundering her mouth, taking what he wanted and giving her even more. By the time Mateo pulled back, her knees shook, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Be safe, mate,” he said before heading out the door, closing it shut behind him.

She stood there for a minute, her fingertips pressed against her swollen lips. Okay, chickee, time to stop drooling over your mate and get to it.

First, a coffee refill, then work. A girl could only do so much without the proper infusion of caffeine in the morning, even if it was already almost midday.

Not counting her own, the list had a total of twenty-three names. The first nine had checks next to them, so she didn’t need to call those. Mateo and Rory had dealt with them already.

She sipped her hot brew and typed the tenth name into the search engine. Huh. Who would have thought there would be so many listings for a William Bradley in New York? She cross-referenced the name and address on the list with the information found on the web and reached for her phone.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she muttered as she dialed the first number.

It rang once, then went straight to voicemail. Sloane put an asterisk by the man’s name to remind her to come back to him and moved on to the next.

“Hello,” a man answered after the third ring.

“Hi, is this Roger McDermott?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“This is going to sound like an odd question, especially if I have the wrong person, but are you a dragon shifter?”

“I am,” the man answered after a pause.

“I’m not sure exactly how to put this, so I’ll be blunt. There are hunters in the city, and I’m calling to warn you that you’re at risk.”

The man laughed. “Is this a joke? Hunters don’t hang out in the city.”

Sloane huffed as she rose from her perch on the couch. “I assure you, it’s not. They attacked my mate and me last night. He was shot. Thankfully, his injury wasn’t life-threatening. I have a list of names in front of me, and you’re on it. All I ask is that you exercise extra caution over the next few days until we secure the organizer and stop the hunts in progress.”

“You’re serious?” The merriment in the man’s voice was gone.

“Deadly serious. We don’t want to see innocent dragons hurt, either.”

Before she hung up, Roger had thanked her for the warning and promised to be careful. It was the best they could do.

An hour and a handful of similar conversations later, Sloane was ready for a break. She stepped out onto the small balcony off the living room and breathed in the damp city air. The rain had let up, but everything was wet and drab gray. Stretching out the kinks in her back, she headed back in. The sooner she got through the list, the happier she’d be. Each time she warned a dragon, a small weight lifted off her shoulders. Telling them they were in danger was at least one step in keeping them safe. She may not know them personally, but no one deserved to be hunted and killed for being different—because they were dragons.

She settled into her work again. Rather than take up where she left off, she went to the top of the list and started dialing the numbers where she hadn’t gotten through.

William Bradley. Come on Bill, let’s talk.

“Hello?” a woman answered on the second ring.

“Hi, may I speak with William Bradley please?” Sloane asked, glad to have connected with someone.

“Who is this?” the anger in the woman’s voice caught her off guard.

Sloane spluttered for a second. “My name is Sloane Appleton. I have a pressing matter to discuss with him. Is he around?”

“I’m sure you do,” the woman spat. “He’s not here. Are you… Are you sleeping with my husband?” The woman’s voice faltered a little.

Sloane stifled her growl. “Of course, not. Mrs. Bradley, I know this is going to sound crazy, but are you or your husband dragon shifters?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” The woman’s words dripped venom.

Heat churned in Sloane’s chest. “Well, if he is, or you are, then I’m calling to warn you of hunters in the area. My mate is trying to stop them, but until we catch them, it’s not safe to be out and about in the city. Especially at night.”

Finally, the woman paused. “What do you mean? What are they doing in the city?”

“I wish I knew, but I can only assume they want a bigger challenge than hunting in the rural areas.”

“He’s not here. Oh God,” she said, her voice rising. “He left yesterday for a boys’ fishing trip. A buddy of his has a cabin on Oneida Lake. When he didn’t call in last night, or again today, I assumed… He’s not answering his cell.” Each word grew louder as the woman’s panic blossomed.

“Mrs. Bradley—”

“It’s Jane. Please, you have to help me.” A small sob came through the line.

“We don’t know that anything has happened to him yet. Are you able to call one of his friends? Maybe one of their wives will be able to help? If you have an address for the cabin, you can try contacting the authorities and send someone to check on him,” she suggested.

“Yes, okay. I can do that.”

“Good. I’ll let my mate know of the situation. In the meantime, it might be best if you stayed indoors, Jane.”

A sniffle came over the phone. “Thank you.”

Sloane melted into the couch cushions. The woman’s emotions left her wrung out. If they were lucky, there would be a good explanation for William’s silence. She shuddered to think of the alternative.