“He gave us coffee.”
He laughed, but the amusement touching his lips faded as his gaze searched mine. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “He was one of the men responsible for bringing us food and coffee. He was on the evening shift.”
“And the coffee was so bad that you had to shoot him?”
His words were light, but his gaze was not. He was studying me, judging me, as so many had judged me over the years. Only Egan had really seen beneath the surface, and yet even Egan had never really known the true me.
Sometimes I wondered if even I could make that claim. Because after years of hiding things I could do, pretending to be what I wasn’t, the line between who I was and who I wasn’t had begun to blur.
“I shot him because he was holding a gun to Egan’s head and threatening to kill him.” I hesitated, and dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Though, trust me, the coffee there seriously sucked.”
“Where did this happen?”
I rubbed my free hand across my eyes. “At the loch. Just after we’d started the fire.”
“So you shooting the man was what set off the alarm?”
I shook my head. “The fire set off the alarm. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. We ran after I shot him, but by then it was almost too late, because the fire had spread faster than we’d expected.”
“Until Egan controlled it enough to get you out.”
Again I nodded. “I didn’t know you dragons could do that when in human form.” Certainly I’d never seen Dad do it, but then, he was always too aware of the need to appear human to everyone who lived around us. Even when we were safe at home, he rarely played with the fires that were his heritage. Yet, at the same time, he’d always made sure that I knew—and could control—every skill that came with me being a sea dragon.
Of course, I was only half sea dragon, so it was entirely possible I might have inherited some skills from my father. Certainly I warmed with the sun, whereas most sea dragons remained a little cool. But I’d never been able to raise fire, and had never attained an air dragon’s shape.
Not that I’d ever really tried, because for as long as I could remember, Dad had discouraged such explorations. Better to be a sea dragon, he’d once said, than to be one of the hunted and the butchered. He’d never really explained that remark, but I’d figured it was connected to the horrible scars on his body. They’d always frightened me enough not to explore the other half of my nature.
“Full air dragons can control fire in either form, as long as there’s a slither of daylight around.” Trae’s smile was thin, filled with an amusement that was cold and hateful. “It’s me that shouldn’t be able to do it.”
“If they’re so worried about draman inheriting dragon skills, why don’t they simply stop mating with humans? I mean, if they want to run under human radar, it’s a bit stupid having humans around the cliques anyway, isn’t it?”
“Someone has to do the menial work,” he said dryly. “You don’t think the oh-so-superior ones are going to lift a finger to clean something, do you?”
I raised my eyebrows at the sarcasm. “Egan wasn’t like that.”
“Most of the younger generation aren’t. It’s the older ones.”
“So can all draman change shape and create fire?”
He shook his head. “No. My sister, for instance, can’t shift shape, but she can control fire—and she can control it at night, which is something even full bloods can’t do.”
“So her being a draman has its advantages, in some ways.”
“Yeah. Although she was mighty pissed off when she discovered she couldn’t shift shape like I could.”
“I can imagine.” I glanced at the time, then said, “We really need to get moving if we’re to make that appointment this morning.”
He glanced at the clock himself, then said, “You want to pack everything up once you’ve eaten? I’ll go shower.”
I watched him walk into the bathroom, admiring not only the burned gold and silver swirl of his dragon stain, but the strength of his shoulders, the V of his back to his hips, then I sighed and pushed the lusty thoughts away.
Not only did I have a dad to see, but I had kids and a mom depending on me to get them out of hell. Lusty thoughts were not going to achieve either aim.
I packed up most of the breakfast stuff, then munched on some cereal, using the tiny cartons of milk in the room’s bar fridge. Outside, the sunshine was giving way to clouds, as the storm I’d sensed coming last night began to roll in.
I was halfway through my breakfast when a car pulled up at reception and a man got out. His clothes had seen better days and his left arm was wrapped in bandages. The driver sported a huge shiner, and even from this distance, looked a little worse for wear. There was a third man in the rear seat, but I couldn’t really see him.
I didn’t need to.
These weren’t strangers.
They were our remaining hunters.
Chapter Nine
I swallowed hastily and the cereal went down the wrong way. Caught between coughing and choking, I shoved the bowl away and ran into the bathroom.
Trae was toweling himself dry, and raised his eye-brow, amusement deep in his eyes. “Want some water for that cough?”
I shook my head and somehow managed to gasp, “Hunters.”
His amusement fled and he swore. “Where?”
“Outside.”
He touched my shoulders, forcing me to one side, and left the bathroom. I followed. He grabbed his clothes off the chair as he passed it, and began dressing as he stopped near the window.
“Red car?”
“Yeah.” I peered past him. “One of them was the man I knocked out last night, and the other—the one that’s inside reception—was wearing bandages.”
“He’s probably one of the three that got singed by the car fire.”
“Maybe you should have done more than singed them.”
“I didn’t exactly know what we were dealing with then.” His glance was grim. “If they’ve found us here, then they definitely have another means of tracking you.”
“Obviously. But where would it be? You searched every inch.”
“Yeah, but nanotechnology is minute. It really could be anywhere, even internal rather than just under the skin.”
“How the hell are we supposed to get at something that’s not only tiny, but could also be internal?”
“Simple answer is, we don’t.”
The reception door opened and the man with bandages came out. He spoke briefly to the guys in the car, then the man in the backseat got out of the car and headed toward the first room.
“Get into the bathroom,” Trae said. “Don’t come out until I tell you to.”
“But won’t they recognize you from the car explosion?”
“The man approaching wasn’t there, and I have no intentions of being seen by the others. Go, Destiny.”
I spun, grabbed my coffee cup, the bowl, and the extra plate of toast he’d made—all of them giveaways that more than one person shared this room—then ran into the bathroom.
About three seconds later there was a rough knock on the door.
“Sorry to disturb you,” a strange voice said, “but we’ve had reports of an escaped felon in the area. You haven’t seen anyone resembling this woman, have you?”
“I don’t believe I’d want to see her. She’s a meanlooking one,” Trae said, with just the slightest touch of amusement in his voice. “What’s she done?”
“She’s wanted in connection to several burglaries.” The stranger hesitated. “You alone here, sir?”
“Yes. You a cop?”
“No, sir. I’m a bail bondsman.” He hesitated. “The couple in room two reported you had company. They said you came in with someone last night. Someone resembling this woman.”
“If you call both of them having black hair similar, then yeah, I guess she was.”
“Is she here now?”
“No. At the rates she charged, I couldn’t afford her for anything more than an hour or so.” Trae’s voice was dry. “And if you’re not a cop, then I have no reason to answer any more questions. Good day, sir.”