Mercy Burns

familiar face appeared.

Damon. Relief spun through me. I raced toward him and jumped into the passenger side of the car. He took off immediately, the tires squealing and no doubt waking those still asleep in the park.

“There’s more than one—” I said, grabbing the seat belt and buckling up.

“Yeah, I know,” he cut in. “We’re obviously dealing with a large organization, not just the half dozen or so I’d presumed.”

“But how could such a large group exist without the council or the other cliques getting wind of it?”

“The fact that no one does know suggests Julio’s fears could be right, and that there is a clique behind it somewhere.”

“But a clique wouldn’t back a draman uprising.”

“No, but they would use draman as foot soldiers in a war. Dragons are great manipulators. The draman might not even realize what they’re actually fighting for.” His expression was grim as he glanced at me. “And remember, dragons are collectors. Wealth, land, and power are all prizes worth fighting—and backstabbing—for.”

“So if all this is the beginning of a planned uprising against the kings, why kill a king’s son and risk possible exposure?”

“It’s possible they were given no choice. If there is a clique behind this, Lucian might have recognized one or more of the players.”

“Lucian being Julio’s son?”

“Yes.” He glanced at me, expression cool yet again. “And considering a couple of the men involved are from your clique, that should probably be our first avenue of investigation.”

I might not like my king’s or my clique’s ways, but I still felt honor-bound to defend them. After all, not everyone there had grown up to be an arrogant bastard—just a good percentage of them.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean clique involvement. For all we know, it could be an underground movement of draman.”

“But why would draman kill draman?”

I snorted softly. “Killing is an accepted part of dragon culture, and regardless of what dragons may think of us, we are a part of that culture. And for all we know, this whole mess could be nothing more than a territorial dispute between draman.”

“A territorial dispute won’t fly. Both towns were on separate, unclaimed dragon lands.”

“And draman can’t dispute property?”

“Of course they can, but a territorial dispute wouldn’t lead to such complete destruction of life.”

No, I guess it wouldn’t. “If there is a clique behind it, will you have to go to the council and make this an official investigation?”

“I can’t. Not until we know for sure what’s going on here.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He glanced at me. “Yes. I can’t move against a clique unless I have the approval of all the other kings.”

“Then I’m praying like hell that there isn’t a clique behind it all.” Because if the council got involved, things could go very wrong. Not just for my own quest, but for draman in general. “So, what’s next?”

“We find Deca Dent and its owner.”

“You don’t think they’ll be expecting that?”

“Probably.”

“And you don’t care?” I said, squinting across at him.

“Something like that.”

And he thought I was crazy? “Well, I’m not going to walk into anything blind,” I said, and reached back to grab my bag, which I’d spotted earlier on the backseat. Once I’d located the phone, I punched in Leith’s number.

“Who are you phoning?” Damon asked.

“A friend,” I said, then added when Leith answered, “Hey, babe, I need some help again.”

“You are going to end up owing me a fortune in food,” he said, voice heavy yet hinting at amusement.

“Dinner for a year is worth the price, trust me.”

“You say that now, but you’ll be complaining when you actually have to foot the bill. What can I do for you?”

“I need you to find out what you can about a club called Deca Dent. Oh, and if you can also check out a guy called Hannish Valorn for me, I’ll be eternally grateful.” I paused, then added, “But tread carefully on that one—he’s the Nevada king’s son.”

“Delightful,” he said drily. “I’m gathering you need this ASAP?”

I grinned at the exasperation in his voice. “Of course.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Oh, and Janelle says to tell Death he’s not only a fool, but he needs an attitude adjustment.”

“Several people have already told him that, including me.”

“I bet you have,” Leith said, amusement in his voice. “Oh, and there’s no death certificate for Seth Knightly. But there’s been no activity in any of his bank accounts and he hasn’t worked or paid taxes, as far as I can tell. For all intents and purposes, the man has disappeared and might well be dead.”

Which didn’t really help solve the matter one way or another. “So there’s no rumor as to why he disappeared?”

“Nothing concrete.” He hesitated. “But I did hear a whisper that he was involved in some land transaction that went sour, and had to leave the state fast.”

Instinct prickled. Maybe it was coincidence that his disappearance might have been due to a land dispute, and maybe it wasn’t. Either way, it was a rumor worth chasing.

“I gather you’re hunting up information on that?”

“Of course.”

He said it like I’d offended him, and I grinned. “Thanks.”

“No probs. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, Mercy.”

“Who was that?” Damon said as I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket.

His voice sounded a little tight, and surprise ran through me. “A friend, as I said. He runs Phoenix Investigations, a very successful PI agency.”

“And this Janelle he mentioned?”

“You were listening? That’s not very polite.”

“If you wanted to keep the conversation private, you should not have had it in the car.”

Again there was a touch of tightness in his voice, and I shifted to look at him. “You’re annoyed.”

“Of course I’m annoyed. I was just called a fool by someone I don’t even know.”

I grinned. “Janelle’s a psychic who works for Phoenix. I think she’s older than the moon itself, and she’s very forthcoming with her opinions.”

“Being old is no excuse for rudeness.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Oh yes it is. Just ask her, if you ever happen to meet her.”

“It’s probably lucky I won’t, given her opinion of me.”

I gave him a quizzical look. “Why is this bugging you so?”

“Because it does,” he muttered, voice as dark as his expression. “You think this Leith fellow will come through with the information?”

Once again, he was changing the subject rather than discussing what was going on in his mind. It was frustrating, but if he thought I was going to give up, he was badly mistaken. I might not have much time with him, but I was going to use it to get past the barrier, to see and understand the core of the man. “Leith usually comes through with whatever I need.”

“So you’re close?”

“Yes.”

He flexed his fingers against the steering wheel and it suddenly hit me. Death wasn’t happy with the