Page 50 of Red Fury (The Dragon Tributes #8)

F ury

Shadow darts back and forth between her bedroom and the main area, the sound of drawers slamming and zippers closing echoing through the apartment.

“Are you sure I can’t help you? I feel terrible just standing here with my finger up my ass.”

“Don’t!” she yells from the bedroom. “I’m fine. I’m nearly done.”

“Perfect.” I glance at my watch. “We need to leave soon or you’re going to miss your flight.”

“I need two minutes,” comes her muffled reply from the bedroom.

“All good. Let me know if you change your mind about needing help.”

I lean back against the wall. This feels like déjà vu in the worst possible way. Shadow’s flight is scheduled just before mine. We’re about to go through it all over again, from the goodbyes to the uncertainty, then there’s the not knowing when or if we’ll see each other again.

My phone buzzes against my thigh, the vibration pulling me from my thoughts. I fish it out of my pocket and check the caller ID.

Webb.

I sigh and stare at the screen for a moment, my thumb hovering over the decline button. Part of me wants to ignore it. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever it is he’s about to say. But then again, he did help me find Shadow. He seriously came through for me in helping locate her.

If it weren’t for him…

I shudder to think what would have happened to her. I probably should have called the male instead of just sending him a text to tell him that I had located and extracted Claire and that she was okay, all things considered.

Guilt wins out, and I swipe to answer, working hard at sounding jovial even though I’m feeling anything but.

“Webb,” I say, forcing lightness into my voice. “What’s up?”

“Damien,” he says, and I can hear the relief in his voice. “Thank Christ you answered. I was starting to worry.”

“Sorry about that. As you know, it’s been a crazy few days.” I walk closer to the window, looking out over the busy street. “Listen, thanks again for helping out with locating Claire. I owe you big time.”

“Yeah…um…sure.”

“What’s up? You don’t sound like yourself.”

There’s a pause, and then Webb blurts out, “You obviously didn’t kill Kozlov during the extraction because he’s still alive.”

I clear my throat, thinking fast. “It wasn’t Kozlov who had her,” I tell him.

It’s not an outright lie. “It was one of his men. Turns out it was the same guy who took her before, too. It was never Kozlov. When I confronted him about it, he apologized and asked to handle the matter himself. So no, I didn’t end up killing him or the person responsible.

I didn’t want to turn it into a big deal and cause trouble between us.

Know that Kozlov and I are still on good terms.”

Another pause. When Webb speaks again, his voice is clipped. “How is Claire?”

“She was beaten,” I tell him. “Thankfully, she’s strong and fought back, so it’s just minor injuries. Some scrapes and bruises. More than anything, she’s shaken up.”

“Jesus.”

“I got her out just in time,” I continue. “Thanks again for your help, Webb. I couldn’t have found her without you.”

“I’m happy she’s safe and not too badly hurt,” he says, but there’s something in his tone that puts me on edge. “Damien, are you sure that you and Kozlov are on good terms?”

“We are,” I tell him. “Kozlov was furious about what happened. That one of his men took Claire like that. We had a long talk. All is well. We’re good. I’d say we’re on better terms than before this happened.”

Webb sighs. “Well, that’s interesting because Kozlov was in touch a little earlier, and he’s pulled out of the arms deal.”

Thank fuck!

I have to bite back a smile of relief, quickly schooling my emotions so Webb doesn’t hear anything in my voice. This is huge. This is exactly what we needed. One tick for Kozlov.

“He what?” I say, injecting the right amount of shock and disappointment into my voice. “That’s terrible. Everything was all planned out. Why has he dropped us like that?”

“We were due to make payment today,” Webb says, and I can hear papers rustling in the background. “Everything was on track. I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“I’m not sure either,” I lie. “Like I said, Kozlov and I are fine. This has nothing to do with me or what happened. I swear it.”

“That’s what makes this so fucking confusing,” Webb mutters.

“Look, Damien, I’m trying to get a meeting with Roman, but I’m being blocked at every turn.

I need you to see what you can do. I need to find out what’s going on.

Harrison is fucked off about this. I need to fix this, pronto. My contract is on the line here.”

I feel a stab of guilt at the desperation in his voice. The male genuinely has no idea what’s really happening here.

“I’ll do what I can,” I tell him. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try to reach out to him. I owe you that much.”

“We’ll be all squared up if you can get me that meeting,” Webb says. “You would be a lifesaver.”

“I’ll try my very best,” I say, feeling worse because I know I’m leaving. “Let me see what I can do,” I lie through my teeth, but there’s nothing else I can do. It’s not like I can tell him the truth.

“Good. That’s all I can ask for.”

We say our goodbyes, and I end the call, staring down at the phone for a moment.

“What was that about?”

I turn to find Shadow standing in the doorway, listening. She’s wearing dark jeans and a cream-colored blouse with a silk scarf wrapped around her neck. I know it’s there to hide the still-healing bite wound, but she looks beautiful. Ready for whatever’s waiting for her back home.

My dragon snarls at the thought of her leaving.

I know, buddy. I feel it too.

“Kozlov has pulled out of the arms deal,” I tell her. “That was Webb.” I point at my phone.

Her eyes widen slightly. “So Roman was telling the truth about pulling out.” She walks further into the room, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe he was telling the truth about everything else, too.”

I shrug, not willing to commit to trusting the vampire completely. “I’m not sure. All I know is that Steel and my king don’t believe a word. Hopefully, this will help my case.”

She nods, sitting on the sofa. “I just found out that I’m being handed over to Mainland officials as soon as I land.” She has tears in her eyes.

“What? Not a fuck!” The words come out sharp, anger flaring hot and fast in my chest. “Maybe you should tell them everything.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t. I’ll send a text letting them know about the arms deal falling through, but… You heard Kozlov. He made it clear that we can’t trust just anyone. He said that there were spies among the Council members.”

“What are you going to do? You can’t just hand yourself in. They’ll give you those drugs.”

“I don’t want to,” she says, “but what should I do? Taking that vaccination terrifies me…but it is what it is.” She shrugs, looking defeated, which isn’t like her at all.

“I don’t like it. I wish…”

“What?” Her big eyes are on me.

I wish she could come with me. That I could keep her safe. That… I shut down the thought.

“I wish things could be different, Draiger.”

Her eyes turn hazy. “Me too, Red.” She smiles, and it’s so sad that my heart fucking stutters. “I’ll fetch my bag and then we’d better get going.” She stands.

I jump to my feet. “I’ll get it for you.” I sprint off before she can argue.

Then we’re loading everything up into my SUV and heading for the airport. No sooner am I behind the wheel than my cell phone rings.

I check the caller ID and it’s Webb, so I ignore it. He probably wants to know if I’ve managed to secure him a meeting with Roman.

We drive in stilted silence, the tension building with every mile.

My phone rings again.

“It’s Webb,” I tell Shadow. “I feel sorry for the guy, but I can’t help him.”

“Nope,” Shadow says, turning on the radio as my phone blows up a third time.

At the next red light, I put my cell phone on vibrate. There is nothing I can do for the male, and so I let it ring.

The radio fills the silence between us with some mindless pop song that I couldn’t give a shit about.

“This music is giving me a headache,” Shadow says, reaching for the radio.

The song cuts out mid-chorus, replaced by the crisp voice of a news anchor. Shadow’s hand freezes on the dial as the words register.

“…breaking news coming out of Washington, DC, this hour. Secretary of Defense William Harrison has died in a car accident while en route to a meeting. The incident occurred when Harrison’s official vehicle collided with a concrete barrier on Interstate 495.”

My foot eases off the gas pedal without me realizing it. The car behind us honks impatiently, but I barely hear it over the roaring in my ears.

What. The. Hell!

“Although there were other passengers in the vehicle who sustained minor injuries, Secretary Harrison was the only fatality,” the anchor continues in that detached, professional tone. “At this time, officials do not suspect foul play, but a full investigation will be conducted.”

Shadow and I stare at each other in stunned silence. Her face has gone pale, her lips parting in shock.

“We go now to our field correspondent Jessica Martinez, who has more details from the scene. Jessica?”

“Thank you, Tom. I’m standing approximately fifty yards from where the Secretary’s vehicle came to rest after what witnesses describe as a sudden, violent swerve into the concrete median. Early reports suggest—”

Shadow’s hand shoots out, cutting off the radio with a sharp click. The silence that follows is deafening.

For several long moments, neither of us speaks. My mind is racing.

“Holy shit,” I finally breathe.

Shadow’s voice comes out as a whisper. “It had to be Kozlov.”

I nod, my jaw clenched tight. “Agreed. He said he was going to handle Harrison. That he’d take him out of the picture permanently. I think that the bastard actually did it.”

“He made good on his word,” Shadow says, and there’s a mixture of awe and horror in her voice. “Holy shit, Fury.”

“Maybe he’s telling the truth about all of it,” I say, still reeling.

“I think so,” Shadow mutters. “What do—?”

My phone starts buzzing insistently in my pocket. I glance at the caller ID and feel my stomach drop.

Webb. Yet again.

“Shit,” I mutter, showing Shadow the screen.

“Answer it,” she says. “Maybe you can get more info.”

I swipe to answer, forcing my voice to sound professional and appropriately shocked. “Webb? What the hell is going on? I just heard the news—”

“Damien!” Webb’s voice is frantic, higher-pitched than I’ve ever heard it. “Thank God you answered. I’ve been trying to reach you…Claire, too. It’s Harrison. He’s…fuck, he’s dead.”

“I heard,” I say, pulling the car into the slow lane. “Jesus, Laurence, how did this happen? Was it really just an accident?”

“No, it fucking wasn’t!” Webb’s voice cracks. “That’s classified information. They found a device, Damien. Some kind of explosive device attached to one of the tires. This was an assassination. Someone murdered the Secretary of Defense.”

Shadow’s eyes widen as she catches Webb’s words through the phone.

“An explosive device?” I repeat, making sure Shadow hears. “Are you sure?”

“Bomb squad confirmed it twenty minutes ago. Small, precise, designed to cause exactly this kind of ‘accident.’” Webb’s breathing is ragged.

“It was triggered so that the rear of the vehicle – exactly where Harrison was sitting - would take the full impact. Damien, I need you and Claire to get your asses to Sentinel Security immediately. Full briefing in one hour.”

I feel Shadow’s hand grab my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh even through my shirt.

“Of course,” I manage to say. “We’ll be there.”

The line goes dead.

The airport is just up ahead.

This changes things.

Then I glance over at Shadow. Unfortunately, some things are still very much the same. I hate that hollow look in her eyes. It fucking kills me because there is nothing I can do to change it.