The slight weight riding beneath his left shoulder blade filled him with comfort. Anxious as he was to rescue Daphne—or maybe because of it—Tansy’s presence filled him with a sense of comfort—it felt . . . right. He’d almost forgotten how much he’d loved their long-ago midnight flights through the mountains.

We’ll get through this together.

Her words wrapped around his heart that had been filled with darkness. Soon, he’d have Daphne home. Adam Wingate was no match against his power.

Below, a glimmer of light splintered the inky blackness of night. They’d arrived. Anger staved his chest with fire. He fought against the impulse to immediately swoop down and bellow fire, challenging Wingate to a fight. Stupid. He must assume the man was armed and cowardly enough to hold Daphne at gunpoint. No, he had to play it smart, take him by surprise and hope to hell Wingate acted alone.

Drake dove down, careful to find a small clearing to land. Mindful of his passenger, he landed as gently as possible.

“Ouch! Damn it. Sweet Goddess almighty,” came a muffled cry.

Evidently, he hadn’t been gentle enough. He took a deep breath and willed his body to shift. Three, two one . . . the familiar freefall began. His mind tunneled down the familiar rabbit hole of sensation—clanging bells, flash sightings of a cave filled with gold bricks and jeweled crowns, the great wall of China, a crimson and gold palace, the scent of burning peat that stung his eyes and scalded his flesh, and then plunging into an Arctic sea of melting glacier water.

Once again, he stood on two human feet. Steam fogged the air so thick it was impossible to see. “Tansy? You there?” he called out, but not so loud Wingate could overhear if he stood by an open cabin window.

She emerged from the dark, steam swirling around her like a cloak. But her blue eyes glowed bright as a cloudless summer day. She’d never looked more witchy . . . more beautiful. His naked body involuntarily responded, and her eyes grew wider as she boldly stepped before him. An herbal scent, as familiar to him as the back of his hand, enveloped him. Just once more, he needed to feel her in his arms.

Drake slowly drew her in and she offered no resistance. His mouth claimed hers and she pressed her hips against his erection, her hands cupping both sides of his face, wanting the kiss to go deeper.

A fever possessed him, and he groaned against her mouth. “Tansy,” he growled. It had been too damn long since he’d held her like this.

She took a step back and his body felt bereft without her.

“You’re heading into danger. Whatever happens tonight, I didn’t want you to leave me without a kiss for luck.”

Tansy thrust the backpack into his abs and sanity returned. “Luck. Right,” he said, dressing quickly.

She turned her back on him and fiddled with her cellphone. “The lucky kiss is already working. We’ve got a signal.”

He grabbed her phone and punched in numbers. “Charlie? I’ve found Daphne. Do you know where the Broken Arrow campground in Angel Falls is? Wingate’s holding her in one of the old cabins and appears to be acting alone. Round up a team and start driving. You can call the police en route. What’s that? Right, we don’t want to tip their hand.” He clicked off the connection and handed the phone to Tansy.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

“Once Charlie and Nate hit the turn-off to the campground, they’ll exit the car and walk the rest of the way.”

“So now we wait.”

Yeah, he’d never been real good at waiting. “I’m going to get closer.”

“Why? With your power, you can see and hear what you need to right where we’re standing.”

Did she have to argue so much? “And here I thought we’d established a truce.”

“But they’ll arrive in only—”

“Stay here. I’ll come back for you when it’s over. And keep your phone turned off.” He walked ahead, treading as lightly as possible, in case there did happen to be someone guarding on the outside. His senses weren’t foolproof, so he wouldn’t take any chances. Not when it came to Daphne’s life.

Twigs snapped from behind and he turned around, glaring.

She met his gaze head-on, never wavering. “You’re not going alone.”

Short of tying her to a tree, Drake didn’t see a way to stop her. “Fine. But stay out of the way. No matter what happens. And no more talking from here on out.”

She nodded and drew an imaginary line across her lips as though zipping them.

He proceeded slowly, much more so than he would have liked. Without Tansy, it would be quicker, but her night vision didn’t compare to his own. Last thing he needed was for her to stumble and involuntarily cry out—or worse, twist an ankle.

The lantern light from the cabin drew closer, a beacon in the night. Wingate held a cell phone to his ear while Daphne sat at an old, pine table, running her hands through her shorn hair. At the sound of her sniffle, anger pounded Drake’s temples.

“Shut up,” Wingate snapped, tossing the phone on the table and hovering over her with a raised hand. “Or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Oh, hell no. He wasn’t going to stand here while Wingate abused his daughter. Drake sprang forward, shaking off Tansy’s arm when she tried to stop him. He ran to the edge of the tree line and then sprinted across the clearing, ducking low in case Wingate glanced out the window.

“—sure hope your asshole dad meets the ransom. You’re such a whiny little bitch I might have to pay Evers to take you back.”

Daphne stared down at her hands, saying nothing.

Drake ducked below the window and began creeping toward the front of the cabin.

“Your Dad’s one cold dude. Hard to figure out. Not sure he even has strong emotions like love.”

“He’ll pay,” Daphne said flatly. “He has a strong sense of duty.”

Her words scraped his heart. Maybe Tansy was right. Perhaps he had been a little too strict and reserved with his daughters. Okay, maybe even a lot reserved. Just one more chance. I’ll change my ways, he vowed. But for now, he needed to focus on catching Wingate by surprise. On the porch, he stepped cautiously across the rotted wood planks, timing his footfalls to the sound of Wingate’s loud diatribe. The slightest creak could give away his position. At the screen door, he paused. The rusty dilapidated door was bound to squeak over the noise of Wingate’s voice. There was no hope for it but to burst in with gun drawn and aim it at the bastard before he could grab Daphne as a human shield. Drake peeked through the screen in time to see Wingate rush to the window.

“What the fuck?” he screamed. “Something’s out there.”

Tansy. Drake didn’t know whether to curse or bless her for the distraction. He flung open the screen door, gun drawn. “Drop it Wingate,” he demanded. “You’re surrounded.”

Wingate whirled around, eyes wild but his aim steady, as he pointed his own gun straight at Drake. “Liar.”

He didn’t dare risk a glance at his daughter. “Run, Daphne,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving Wingate’s.

A chair scraped against the floor, but she wasn’t quick enough. Wingate grabbed her with one arm, still keeping aim at Drake with his other as he secured Daphne in a choke hold.

No! His lungs seized, and his ears rang with the pounding of blood. From a distance, a car engine sounded on the county road. Too late to help now.

“If anyone’s surrounded, it’s you,” Wingate said with a sneer, shifting the gun to Daphne’s head.

“Bullshit. Look Wingate, I’ll pay you. Whatever you want. Just let Daphne go.”

“Show me the money.”

“I don’t have it with me, but I can get it to you in thirty minutes if . . .” he stumbled on his words, horrified at the vision behind Wingate’s back.

Tansy crawled through the open window brandishing a large stick. She jabbed it in Wingate’s back. “Drop your gun,” she ordered.

Wingate’s jaw gaped, and his shoulders drew up, just long enough for Drake to lunge forward and strike his arm in a vicious karate chop. The gun clattered to the floor.

And that’s all he needed, now he knew Daphne was out of immediate danger. Drake twisted Wingate’s arm behind his back and hissed in his ear. “Ever touch my daughter again and you’re dead meat.”

Wingate groaned, his face twisted in agony. Not only did Drake have no sympathy for the bastard, he’d gladly have shot a hole through the man’s heart, but he needed information. Until he knew who else was involved in this plot, he’d never rest easy again.

Tansy’s face drew up in alarm. “Something’s not right.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed. “Pick up his gun and take his cell phone. You stay here while I take Wingate out back for a little talk.”

Daphne stood before him, clutching her hands. “What are you going to do to him, Papa?”

Surely she didn’t still have feelings for this scumbag—did she? “Talk,” he said briefly, shoving Wingate to the door. What he was about to do, Daphne didn’t need to witness.

“You’ll be sorry,” Wingate rasped through his pain. “My help’s on the way.”

And so was his own help. What he was about to do, he wanted no one else to see, not even his own security employees. Only Tansy knew his secret. He’d get to the bottom of this in his own way before others arrived and interfered. Last thing he needed was for Wingate to be arrested and clam up on the whole kidnapping scheme.

Outside, the night air had darkened and chilled even more—although it was about to get much more toasty. He kept his grip on Wingate and they stumbled forward, across the porch and then to the back of the cabin. Way back. Out of Daphne’s hearing range. Hopefully, Tansy would keep her distracted from his fiery interrogation.

Drake let go of Wingate and shoved him several feet away. “Start talking. I want the names of every person involved.”

“And if I don’t?” Wingate rubbed his sore arm and stuck out his chin.

Damn. The kid had balls of steel.

“You won’t shoot me,” he asserted confidently. “Daphne won’t like that.”

Drake tucked his gun in his belt. “Who said anything about shooting?”

“Whatcha gonna do? You wanna fight me?” The dude held up his fists. “I’m game. Backup will be arriving any second now. And then you’ll really be sorry.”

Either Wingate was telling the truth, or he was one hell of a cocky bastard. Something’s not right. Tansy’s warning flitted through his mind. All the more reason to get cracking. Drake drew a deep breath and willed his body to metamorphize. Heat rose within him as his metabolism fired up. First came an uncomfortable burning that flushed his entire body, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of expansion and then a popping loose of tension that brought a rush of release. Black and crimson scales replaced flesh, hands and feet merged to talons, and wings sprouted from his elongated spine.

Smoke blew from his nostrils as he faced down Wingate. Little jerk wasn’t so cocky now. Horror and fear slackened the features on the man’s face and he stumbled backward.

“Their names,” Drake repeated, his voice as deep and dark as a cavern. The ground trembled with its vibration.

At the continued silence, Drake exhaled a string of fire. Its tail passed within a foot of Wingate’s head and he fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position. Sparks licked the treetops and then fell like rain around Wingate’s still form.

Perhaps he’d overdone it a wee bit. The man might be so full of terror that he couldn’t speak even if he’d wanted to. Drake shifted back to human form, his stomach dropping as if he’d plunged down a roller coaster. He strode to Wingate and kicked his thigh, turning him on his back.

“What the fuck, man?” Wingate gasped.

“Ah, so you can speak. Who else is in on this?”

“N-nobody.” Wingate crab-walked backward. “Just let me go. All right? I promise I’ll never touch Daphne again.”

His lips curled in disdain. “Not good enough. Ready for a little more fire power?”

“No, please. Please. I-I’ll tell you.”

Twerp wasn’t so cocky without his gun. Figured. The roar of a car engine grew even closer. Wingate cocked his head toward the sound. His time had run out. He needed those names before his staff arrived. “Give it up, Wingate.” He leaned over the kidnapper and blew a large cloud of smoke from his mouth.

Wingate coughed and sputtered. “Don’t hurt me, man. I’ll tell you. It’s Nathan Albright and Charles Stanley.”

Everything within him stilled. He couldn’t have been more surprised if acid had been thrown in his face. “Charlie?”

Headlight beams swathed the ebony landscape and gravel crunched beneath tires. The enemy had arrived.