Page 21 of Her Enemy Dragon Captor (Dream Team Shifters #5)

CHAPTER 21

J ane burst out of the forest line, stumbling onto the cracked asphalt of Greenrock's outskirts. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for breath, her lungs burning from the long run. The image of the old man's head flying across the room kept flashing through her mind.

He killed him. Alex killed him.

Her stomach lurched, and she doubled over beside a rusty mailbox, hands on her knees as she heaved. Nothing came up. She hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"I'm such an idiot," she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Scales? Dragons? Aliens? What was I thinking?"

Whatever they'd done to her—drugs, hypnosis, something else—it had worked spectacularly. For days, she'd been completely under their spell.

Under his spell, you mean.

And the worst part? Deep down, some traitorous part of her still longed for it to be real.

"Get it together, Donovan," she muttered, straightening up and looking around at the deserted street. A few dilapidated buildings lined the road—an abandoned gas station, a boarded-up diner, and what had once been a motel. "Focus."

She needed to reach the center of town, find a phone, call for backup. As she started walking, the sound of tires on gravel reached her ears. She turned to see three black SUVs pulling up, the lead vehicle slowing to a stop beside her.

The window rolled down to reveal Assistant Director Carlson, his expression shifting from intent to surprised recognition.

Relief flooded through her. "Carlson!"

The SUVs came to a full stop, and agents spilled out, weapons at the ready until they recognized her.

"Agent Donovan?" Carlson stepped out, eyes widening. "Thank God. Your father's been going out of his mind."

"My father knows?" Jane approached the vehicles, suddenly aware of how disheveled she must look.

"When you missed three check-ins, he mobilized everything.”

“My father did that? For me?”

Carlson just looked at her for a moment. “What? Of course, you’re his only daughter. We've had surveillance on the compound entrance for the last 36 hours." Carlson looked her over critically. "Are you hurt? Were they holding you against your will?"

Jane opened her mouth, then closed it. How could she explain? That she'd believed she was a dragon? That she'd slept with their leader? That she'd felt scales growing on her own body? And even hallucinated them?

"I'm fine," she managed, essentially dodging the second question. "

"Your father will be relieved. So, you were inside, right? Obviously, this is their base. But we need to regroup. With you safe the raid is off, for now at least. Still, we need a debrief..." Carlson asked, nodding in the general direction of the compound. “How many are we looking at? Are they armed?”

Jane hesitated, her heart racing. Despite what she'd seen, something held her back from just spilling her guts on everything.”

Why? Are you nuts? He. Killed. Someone.

Yet you are still protecting him.

Because he’s my mate.

Donovan, you have definitely lost it this time.

You are certifiable.

Crazy.

"They call themselves the Alliance. I didn’t really have a chance to learn much more than I already knew...”

Why are you being vague? Tell them...about their delusions! Aliens... portals...

“They're... very organized."

"And dangerous?" Carlson prompted.

Jane bit her lip. "They do have weapons. But defensive. They're... preparing for something.”

Defensive? Really? You call Walter’s head flying through the air ‘defensive’?

"Maybe you should sit down," Carlson said, concern etched on his face. "In the meantime,” he said calling to one of his lieutenant’s, “Seal the perimeter. No one gets in, or out... not until we know more.”

"Um, right, okay," Jane said, her mind racing as she was still trying to adjust to this new situation.

I should be relieved.

Then why am I alarmed.

"These people—the alliance I mean, they see themselves as protectors. I don’t think they...” But the words died on her lips.

I don’t think they pose a threat, she had been about to say.

The image of Walter’s head popped back into her head for about the hundredth time.

Right, not a threat.

"That’s what they always say, Donovan." one of the agents muttered as he checked his weapon.

"Agent Turner, that's enough," Carlson snapped. "Jane, we appreciate your input, and excellent job escaping. I am sure you will have valuable intel. Remember we have reports of other missing persons to consider. Besides we are just going to secure the compound for now.

Jane slumped against agent Carlson’s SUV, watching the other agents fan out to establish a perimeter. She should feel good.

But she felt anything but.

Somehow, it felt more like the biggest loss of her life.

"Idiot," she whispered to herself. "You actually believed you were special. That he was special."

Carlson was on the phone, no doubt updating her father. It had been nice to hear he had actually been worried about her, but she could already imagine his concern turning to disappointment when he learned how she had allowed herself to get compromised by the very cult she was supposed to be investigating.

Some agent I am... or most likely was...

A flash of memory – Alex's eyes, the electric sensation when they touched, the overwhelming completeness she'd felt in his arms.

"No," she hissed, digging her nails into her palms. "That's exactly how they got you."

Just like Melissa. Just like all the others who'd disappeared into that compound. Like turtle boy James...

Brainwashed. Manipulated.

"Agent Donovan?" One of the junior agents approached, offering her a water bottle. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied, accepting the water. She took a sip, her throat tight with unshed tears.

A commotion at the perimeter caught her attention. A group of townspeople – at least a dozen – approached the impromptu roadblock, led by a woman in a floral dress.

"We need to get through," the woman insisted to the agent blocking her path. "We live just beyond. Our families are in there."

"Ma'am, this area is restricted, let’s see some ID." the agent replied firmly.

Slowly, but seemingly out of nowhere, more people arrived.

Did a concert just let out or something? Midafternoon?

I doubt it.

"You can't keep us from our homes!"

Homes? But there are no homes that way?

Jane watched, her FBI instincts prickling. Hell, it’s didn’t take an agent to tell something was off.

"Carlson," she called, pushing herself upright. "Where did all of these people come from all of a sudden. Something's wrong."

Before he could respond, one of the "townspeople" lunged at the nearest agent, moving with impossible speed. A sickening crack echoed as the agent's neck snapped.

"What the—" Carlson reached for his weapon.

The townspeople were... changing. Their skin began to ripple and tear, revealing gray flesh beneath. Their limbs elongated, faces contorting into grotesque masks.

Oh my God. The aliens... the enemy... what had Alex called them?

The Krita.

"Take ‘em out!" Carlson shouted, but it was too late.

The creatures moved like lightning, tearing through the FBI line. Bullets seemed to barely slow them – or just not slow them at all. An agent fell, then another, blood pooling on the asphalt.

Jane scrambled for cover behind the SUV, drawing her weapon. She fired, hitting one of the creatures square in the chest. It barely flinched.

He was telling the truth. All of it.

Jeezuz...

No wonder he took off Walter’s head...it’s head.

It must have been ... an ‘alien scout’, he had said.

A burning sensation spread across her forearms – the same feeling she'd experienced with Alex. She glanced down to see iridescent scales rippling beneath her skin.

Holy shnikees holy moly this is crazy. But at least I'm not crazy.

I guess my dragon is real...

Too bad I will never get the chance to really meet you...

More agents fell as the creatures advanced. She backed away, panic rising in her throat.

One of the creatures spotted her, turning its soulless eyes on her and stretching its lipless tooth filed maw into a hideous grin. It stalked toward her, until it sprang, claws extended.

She closed her eyes. She could feel its fetid breath on her face, its claws must be mere inches from her throat, but it was not of her impending death that she thought... it was of him...

I’m so sorry Alex. So sorry I didn’t believe...