Page 1 of Logan (Dragon Rules #9)

CHAPTER 1

E mily listened intently as the tumblers whispered their secrets, each subtle click a victory in her silent battle with the safe. She turned the dial with practiced precision, her movements deliberate and controlled despite the tension coiling in her veins. This penthouse suite had posed a formidable challenge, its security measures surpassing even her considerable skills. She was usually in and out of her target’s home by now, but was forced to wait out several patrols and took longer to circumvent the panels at the door.

For over a week, Emily had meticulously studied every facet of this opulent abode, mapping out the optimal approach and patiently awaiting the opportune moment to strike. While conventional wisdom dictated a nighttime heist, she knew you could never make assumptions about a mark. The owner of her current acquisition was a nocturnal creature of habit, and she had allowed the early morning hours to pass before she made her move. Now, as the rest of Aurora stirred to greet the day, she prowled through the shadows, a ghost in pursuit of her prize.

With the owner sound asleep in the adjoining room, oblivious to the clandestine ballet unfolding in the heart of his domain, Emily’s senses heightened, attuned to the faintest sound or disturbance. At times like this, she was not merely a thief, but a maestro conducting a symphony of silence, each click bringing her closer to her elusive goal.

With each turn of the dial, Emily drew nearer to the culmination of her meticulous planning, her heart pounding in rhythm with the steady progression of the tumblers. Her prize wasn’t the expensive jewel behind the thick metal door. It was something far more valuable.

As Emily’s skilled fingers worked their magic, the safe yielded to her expertise with a satisfying click, a nod to her mastery over locks and secrets alike. She held her breath as she opened it slowly, and the slight creaking sound echoed around her. With a sense of anticipation, she grasped the black box nestled within, its weight a tangible reminder of the priceless treasure it contained. Her uncle would not have sent her after the treasure if it wouldn’t catch a hefty price on the black market.

With a deft motion, Emily unlatched the box, revealing its glittering contents to the dim light of the penthouse suite. The necklace lay before her, a symphony of diamonds woven into a masterpiece of opulence and allure. Each facet caught the early light, casting shimmering reflections that danced across the room, a testament to the craftsmanship of its creators.

As Emily gazed upon the necklace, a pang of guilt tugged at her conscience as a reminder of the illicit nature of her endeavors. But her targets were no strangers to lies and intrigue. Ming only sent her after items that would not be reported if stolen. In the shadowy world she navigated, morality existed in shades of gray, and Emily found solace in the knowledge that her recent acquisition had already been stolen from its licensed owner.

With a final, lingering glance at the radiant necklace, Emily tucked it away in her slim backpack and hoisted it onto her thin shoulders. Her black catsuit melded with the shadows of the darkened room, but it was light outside, and once she exited, she would be compromised. This was the toughest part of her plan, hoping that her mark didn’t have outside surveillance. She had disabled the internal security, but some people took additional precautions, as she had found out the last time she was almost caught.

Emily made her way to the door and placed her hand on the knob. She stepped out of the room, her senses on high alert as she navigated the pristine living room adorned with sleek black leather couches. Every step had been calculated, but before she could reach the safety of the door, the shrill wail of the alarm shattered the silence like a thunderclap.

Instinct propelled her forward, her heart racing as she bolted toward the exit, but her escape was thwarted by a chorus of shouts erupting from the nearby bedroom. Panic surged within her, adrenaline fueling her desperate flight as she burst through the front door, only to be met with a deafening gunshot and searing pain lancing through her shoulder.

Stumbling, but refusing to succumb to the agony, Emily pressed on, her determination unwavering as she made her way to the stairwell. With practiced efficiency, she pulled a white lab coat from her pack, a disguise to aid her in blending seamlessly into her surroundings as she descended to the third floor. The target of her reconnaissance and her only hope of escape. She ripped the black patch off her backpack, revealing a large white logo. It would appear to be a different pack to those looking through video surveillance.

Ignoring the shouts echoing above her, Emily fought through the pain, her resolve relentless in the face of adversity. With each step, she drew closer to her goal, the lock on the third-floor entrance looming before her like a final obstacle in her path.

Summoning every ounce of her skill, Emily deftly picked the lock, the mechanism yielding to her expertise with a soft click. She stepped into the busy hallway with at least a half dozen workers walking the halls between glass-encased rooms. She walked slowly with her bag slung over one shoulder casually as if she were arriving at work.

She hit the elevator button and smiled up at a man with a clipboard in his hand. He was taller than her, but everyone was. Her black hair was slicked back, so her usual spikes were hidden among the longer strands.

“Are you new here?” he asked.

Emily nodded. “I just started today, but I forgot my ID card in the car. Rookie move, right?” Her stomach rolled as she forced her face to remain calm, though she could feel a bead of sweat running down her face. Hopefully, he would attribute it to first-day jitters.

He laughed. “We have all done that. Are you in the employee’s parking garage?”

“No, I don’t have an assigned space yet. I had to pay for parking in the lot up the street.”

The elevator chimed, and she kept her head angled away from the camera and moved closer to the lab employee.

He began to tell her a bit about the company, and she nodded as if she were lost in conversation with him. The camera would show a young woman with a fellow employee, and that would give her some time. When the elevator chimed in the lobby, she waved at the young man and slipped out. There were a few people in lab coats, and she walked out the front door without anyone giving her a second glance. She was well aware the people who activated the alarm had gotten her picture from the penthouse camera, and she walked as quickly as possible toward the stoplight that led to the next street over.

Traffic was busy, and she had to wait as shouts erupted behind her. She didn’t have to look back to know that there were men running toward her. The kind of people after her wouldn’t hesitate to open fire on the innocent pedestrians standing beside her, and she focused inward, using a skill she had recently acquired. The power moved through her body, coming to her aid.

With a practiced hand, Emily manipulated the very essence of her appearance, the lines of her face shifting and contorting beneath her touch. Her oriental features softened as her cheekbones grew more pronounced, and her eyes elongated into ovals, with her nose adopting a subtle hook. It was a skill she had recently honed, a master disguise that allowed her to slip unnoticed through the shadows.

But even her considerable talents couldn’t alter the style or color of her hair. She finished her transformation as a rough hand seized her shoulder, wrenching her around with a forceful jerk.

The muscular man in a gray suit had his hand on a gun at his side, but his eyes widened when he saw her. Defiance in her posture, she met his scrutiny head-on.

“Get your hands off me,” she said in a nasal voice. The wrenching motion made her stomach roll as blood slicked the inside of her catsuit. Though it was water-repellent, the blood would seep through the bullet hole eventually, and she needed to be away from this security guard soon.

In this moment of confrontation, she relied on her training and her instincts to appear as a simple, outraged employee. As the man’s gaze lingered upon her, Emily held her breath, her heart pounding in rhythm with the pulse of the city streets. She knew that the stakes were high, but she refused to falter, her resolve unyielding in the face of danger.

The man swore and growled an apology before turning back toward the building he had exited. She stumbled as she reached the next street and strolled down. The lab coat was conspicuous now that she was passing the extra lot used for overflow parking, but she needed a private location to change and blend in.

You are hurt. She assumed the voice was that of the creature that taunted her at night. Had she fallen asleep? Was she dreaming again? But as she made her way to the gas station on the corner, she began to question her own sanity.

No shit.

Who hurt you? There was genuine curiosity in that voice, and there was none of the anger or malice she associated with her dreams.

Doesn’t matter. I stole from him, and he retaliated. It happens.

Not to a druid.

She reached the gas station washroom and, though it required a key, she picked the lock in a few seconds before entering and closing the door. A druid? Man, her fantasies were next level when she was in pain and about to pass out.

This was definitely not her nightmare. That creature scared the hell out of her. She was losing blood quickly, and her subconscious was warning her. She was out of time.

I don’t have time for imaginary friends right now. Sadly, she didn’t have time for real ones either. Nor the inclination as that would get anyone she truly cared about killed.

I am not imaginary, but you already know that. The deep voice resonated within her, connecting with her soul as if it owned her. That was even scarier than the creature that taunted her.

You are like the other one, then?

Another talked with you this way? he asked with genuine interest.

He taunts. I have never responded to him.

He is likely one of the darks. They hunt your kind. Do not engage him.

No shit, Sherlock. My kind. She had been ostracized most of her life for being a half-blood. Even her imaginary friends found her repulsive. She grunted as she removed her lab coat. The blood had begun to spread on the shoulder, but she tucked it into her pack and pulled out a change of clothes before removing her catsuit. Every movement hurt, and she grabbed the sink for support when her eyesight blurred.

She rifled through her pack, fumbling to get the small medical kit she kept on hand. Her fingers curled over the syringe before she jabbed herself in the leg. It wouldn’t take long for the adrenaline to take effect, but it would be short-lived, and she would need medical help soon.

With the burst of energy coursing through her veins, she taped the wound at her shoulder to stem the blood flow, then changed into a thick dark hoodie and pink tights. With her black boots, she looked like a teenager, especially when she relaxed her facial muscles and returned to her natural form. With her tiny frame, people often assumed she was young, and that, too worked to her advantage. This wasn’t the first time she had taken a shot, and she knew where she had to go if she expected to live.

She was out the door in seconds, jogging toward the Chinese district. Her destination was a small shop that sold creams, dried herbs, and other procurements. Mrs. Lim had a wide array of customers, but those like Emily didn’t come for the things she sold in the front of the shop. But she had to make a quick pit stop on the way.

She opened the door to the dry-cleaning shop and made her way to the counter. “I need same-day service, please.”

The attendant looked her over in disgust. He was one of Ming’s younger sons and technically her cousin, but she would rather snack on razor blades than admit that. “You done already, Hapa? I heard there was some trouble downtown.” His eyes strayed to the moisture at her shoulder.

“It happens,” she said, cooly.

He smiled cruelly. “You look pale.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I will live.”

He moved so quickly she didn’t have time to avoid his hand as it grabbed her wrist. He yanked her forward, and she groaned in pain. “I guess you are not as good as my father thinks.”

The lights flickered as an energy surge blasted the entire shop before her cousin yanked his arm away, as if she had shocked him. “Get out of here halfling.”

She stumbled from the door, barely able to keep her feet moving. She knew she had to make it to Mrs. Lim’s shop. She would help her, but only within the safety of her walls. If she passed out on the street, she would die there before anyone realized she wasn’t some homeless teenager coming down from a fix.

You need to seek safety; your body is shutting down. She ignored the voice in her head. She was well aware she was out of time, but the shop door was only half a block away.

The door chimed as she entered, and Mrs. Lim smiled at her. “Emily, it’s good...” Her face paled when she noticed the bead of sweat trailing down her face. “Come to the storeroom quickly.” She jogged to the front

door and flipped the closed sign.

The tiny Chinese woman slipped her arm around Emily and guided her to the medical room she maintained in the back, but as she got her onto the bed, her eyes closed,

and the darkness snatched her.