He was going to make Garrison suffer for this.
An inhuman screech tore from him before he could stop it, echoing up and down the stairwell. Opening his eyes, he barreled down the stairs, four at a time. The urgent pull on his existence and the burning hunger for Jilly told him she was still close.
Wherever Garrison had taken her, they weren’t that far away.
Ari…stop…I don’t…let me…no…Ari…Ari, help…
Terror filled Jilly’s thoughts, wild and cold.
Ari threw back his head, incapable of holding back his dragon’s fury. The deafening screech shook the stairwell, so loud concrete dust rained down on him from the walls.
And then he burst into a sprint, down the stairs, out into the lobby, faster than humanly possible, the drawing sensation on his soul, his croi, growing hotter.
Teeth bared, Ari panted, blood roaring in his ears. When he caught up with them, the druid was going to regret ever thinking about taking—
The pulling sensation vanished.
Gone. Just like that.
Icy numbness replaced the gossamer connection of his mind with Jilly’s.
Ari slammed into the lobby door, head spinning. It swung outward, spilling him into the street.
Around him, people scrambled about whimpering, fear on their faces as they kept looking toward the sky. He didn’t know what had scared them. He didn’t care.
He barreled out into their midst, searching for Jilly. Any sign. He just needed a sign…
Nothing.
No sign. No connection. No pulling sensation.
Fuck. Fuck, where was she? What had Garrison done?
The crunch of glass beneath his feet brought him to a stumbling halt.
He dropped his stare to the footpath, frowning at the shattered glass everywhere on the concrete. Where had that…
Ah, shit.
Gut knotting, he looked at the people scurrying around him, and then higher. Up to Jilly’s apartment building.
All the windows on her floor were blown out.
The knot in his gut twisted. He knew exactly what had caused the destruction.
Him. His rage. “Fuck.”
He studied the gaping windows, unable to miss the scorched curtains flapping through them from what he knew to be Jilly’s living room.
“Fuck,” he muttered again. For a Cleaner, he was doing a brilliant job of making a goddamn mess. Tyson Conley was going to kill him.
Deal with it later. All that matters is Jilly.
Returning his focus to the street around him, he sought out any hint of Jilly with his mind and body.
Still nothing.
“Fuck,” he growled a third time.
He needed to get out of here. The insane twelve-hour mating-fire period still consumed him, his savage fury warred with his consuming sexual hunger, and his Fire Mate had been abducted by a druid with a deluded, dangerous belief that she belonged to him.
How the hell he had any control of his dragon at this point was beyond him.
He ground his teeth, head spinning.
Control. Shit, he needed to get control.
Shifting right here on the footpath surrounded by people, in broad daylight, would reveal the existence of his kind, and that couldn’t happen. The world wasn’t ready to deal with the reality of dragon shifters.
Then get out of here.
Ari spun on his heel and ran for his Harley.
He had no idea where Garrison was taking Jilly, but he did have an idea where to start his search.
Halfway to the druid’s cake-decorating business in Bondi, he realized he’d picked up a tail.
The Extraho Venator again.
Tenacious bastard.
Shooting his side mirror a glance, he bit back a growl.
Yep, that was Colin’s pickup ducking into traffic five cars behind.
Fuck.
He dropped back a gear and revved his bike’s engine, speeding toward an upcoming intersection. He needed to shake the irritating sod. Or deal with him.
Something was off about the whole hunter situation. Colin was as incompetent as an Extraho Venator got, and yet in the last two weeks, the hunter had managed to not only locate Ari, but stick to him. Ever since the day after the safe house incident up on the Northern Beaches involving Kellan Donovan and Reece Collier, and an Uber driver who turned out to be yet another dragon hunter with delusions of grandeur.
Speeding down a narrow side street, Ari checked his mirror again.
No sign of Colin.
“Thank fuck for that,” Ari muttered, returning his focus to the road. If he spied the dragon hunter again, he’d have to deal with him, and with his current agitated mood, Colin wouldn’t walk away from the confrontation, regardless of seemingly lucky the hunter was.
Five blocks and too many red lights and yield signs later, his mobile phone started buzzing like crazy in his pocket. And again. And again.
Call after call.
A familiar vibrating pattern that told him exactly who was waiting on the other end of the incoming call.
Shit.
He yanked out his phone and rammed it to his ear. “Heya, Tyson,” he said, slowing down enough to divide his attention between the busy road, his mirrors and his conversation. “What’s up?”
“What exactly are you doing blasting out windows in an apartment building, Drake? Remind me again what a Cleaner does? Covers up dragon exposure to the public, not creates it, yes?”
Ari winced. Tyson Conley, Sydney’s apex alpha, was angry. Given what had just happened, rightly so.
“Explanation,” Tyson demanded, not a hint of the normal good humor in his voice. “Now.”
If it were anyone other than Tyson, Ari would tell them to fuck off. No one ordered him around like that. Ty, however…
Ari had a justified reputation for being someone few people messed around with, but no one fucked about with Tyson.
Turning down another side street—with a quick check in his mirrors to make certain Colin remained nowhere to be seen—Ari let out a ragged breath.
“I met my Fire Mate,” he answered. No point in bullshitting.
Tyson laughed. “It was that explosive?”
“Ha ha.” Ari rolled his eyes. “I didn’t peg you for a comedian, Conley.”
Tyson chuckled. “And I didn’t peg you for someone with control issues, Drake.”
Ari snorted. “Bite me, you bastard.”
Tyson answered with another laugh. “I’ll leave that to your Fire Mate. So tell me what’s going on?”
Watching
