Dark Embers (36 page)

Dylan woke slowly, unsure of what had interrupted his sleep. His hand reached across the bed for Phoebe, and when he came up empty, an inexplicable panic assailed him. Something was wrong, something—

Dylan, did you hear me? They have Phoebe!

Quinn’s cry came across their personal mental path, and Dylan sprang out of bed with a roar.
Who? Where are you? Quinn?

But the healer was gone.

Panic was a living thing within him as he threw on a pair of jeans and hit the hall at a dead run.
Quinn? Fuck you, Quinn! Answer me!
But he was met with silence.

Logan, Shawn, Riley
.
Gabe
. He put a call out to his best sentries, then nearly plowed straight into Logan as he hit the opening of the cave.

The other man was instantly at attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Phoebe?”

“She’s with Quinn at the lab. She wanted to work.”

“Something’s wrong—I just got a hell of a wake-up call from Quinn. He told me they had Phoebe and then he just disappeared.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m quicker.” Shawn was behind him, looking as rumpled and out of it as Dylan felt. But when the sentry grabbed onto his and Logan’s arms, Dylan had never felt more grateful. They flashed into the laboratory’s parking lot, then went running for the front doors. They were locked—and he didn’t have a key on him.

With the dragon screaming inside him, Dylan threw himself at the doors. If he couldn’t open them, he’d damn well knock them down. Beside him, he was vaguely aware of Logan and Shawn lending themselves to the task, the three of them hitting the doors with the power of the strongest battering ram.

It gave way, ripped completely free of its hinges and fell inward. They ran right over it.

“Phoebe!” he screamed as he careered down the hall, fear eating him from the inside. “Damn it, Phoebe, answer me!”

But there was no answering shout, no movement at all as they whipped through the door of Phoebe’s lab. Dylan vaulted over the three lab tables in the middle of the room on his way to Quinn’s section of the lab, but stopped dead as soon as he hit the door.

The room looked like a bomb had gone off. The walls were scorched where electricity and firebombs had hit. Two of the big lab tables had been ripped out of the floor and were lying against the back entrance.

“Where’s Phoebe?” He looked around the room frantically.

“Where’s Quinn?” countered Shawn, who had been right behind him in his headlong flight to the lab.

“Over here.” Logan had picked his way through the debris to one of the fallen lab tables. He lifted the thing up and tossed it across the room like it weighed no more than a beach ball. But Dylan wasn’t watching that; he was focused on Quinn, who was lying pale and still on the tile floor.

“Is he alive?” he asked, deadly quiet.

Logan didn’t answer as he checked for a pulse.

“Is. He. Alive?” Dylan’s voice shook the roof, but he didn’t give a shit. He was sick of death, sick of losing people he loved—

“He’s got a pulse.”

“Thank God.”

“We’ve got to get him to the clinic, Dylan. He’s fading fast.”

“So do it.”

Shawn picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Dylan prayed he wasn’t causing any more damage, but time was of the essence. And then Shawn was running for the front door, for the open air of the parking lot, so that he could flash them both to the clinic.

“Are we meeting him there?” Logan asked as he prowled around the room, looking for some kind of sign of what they were up against.

Dylan walked through the ruined room, trying to figure out how the hell they had gotten in. He’d protected his clan with the most powerful protection charm out there, and the idea that these guys had gotten through it—twice—didn’t sit well with him. Especially since he’d reinforced it after the last attack.

Again, the idea of a traitor whispered through his brain. He wanted to deny it—God, did he want to deny it—but it was the only thing that made sense. How else could the Wyvernmoons know so much? How else could they get close enough to infect his people, not just now, but for the past few decades?

With ice skating down his spine and betrayal burning hot in his brain, Dylan worked his way through the clinic until he found where the kidnappers had entered. The back door had been wrenched open. In the air around it was the unexpected stench he’d expected to find, of dragons that had indeed pushed their way through his protection spell.

Goddamnit
.

“No. We’re going after Phoebe,” he finally answered Logan as he fought down the fire inside him. Now wasn’t the time to lose his head.

Logan scrambled to keep up. “We don’t even know where she is.”

“Sure we do. South Dakota. Silus has her.” He headed for the door at a dead run, Logan hot on his heels.

“At least let’s plan this out,” the sentry called to him.

“I have a plan.”

“And what is that?”

“Kill every motherfucker that gets between Phoebe and me.” And then he launched himself straight into the sky, shifting as he went.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

P
hoebe woke up flat on her back on a filthy bed in a dirty room. Disoriented, she looked around for a moment, tried to get her bearings. But the room was dimly lit and she couldn’t see well. She swore if she ever got out of this, she would never go anywhere where there wasn’t light again.

She tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Something was holding her in place. She struggled against it for a moment before she realized they had tied her down. Had spread-eagled her across the bed, each hand and foot tied to a different bedpost.

The bastards
.

Anger sustained her for a few minutes as she yanked and pulled against the ropes, again and again. But when they didn’t loosen, didn’t budge by so much as a centimeter, panic started to set in. She struggled harder, until she could feel blood running down her arms and pooling beneath her ankles.

For a few minutes she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but give in to the purely animalistic urge to be free. She was back in her mother’s kitchen, her stepfather laboring above her as he ripped into her skin with his razor-sharp nails. She couldn’t go through that again. Couldn’t bear to have it happen again.

The urge to scream welled up in her throat, but she bit her tongue until it bled. No way was she going to let her attackers know she was awake; no way did she want to draw their attention. At least not yet, when she was bound and helpless and pathetic.

Heart racing, breathing shallow, fingers clenched into fists, she bucked so hard against her bonds that she actually moved the bed. But nothing worked, not even when she pulled against the ropes so furiously that they gouged huge, bloody grooves in her skin.

For the first time, she truly understood why a wolf would rather chew off its own foot than remain in a trap.

She would do anything to get away. Anything and everything.

She lay in the dark for long minutes, panting and struggling as terror continued to whip through her. But as time passed, so did the panic, and she was left with nothing but the bone-deep resolve to escape—or die trying.

Dylan would come for her, she knew that. Angry as he was, he would never leave her here at the mercy of these monsters. He didn’t have it in him. But at the same time, she prayed he wouldn’t show up. She didn’t want to be the death of him, didn’t want him to fly into a trap just to save her.

Especially since she couldn’t guarantee the state she’d be in when he arrived. She couldn’t survive another attack, not without losing her mind. And she’d rather die than have that happen. Rather die than have Dylan see her brain turning in on itself as it had all those years before.

Think, Phoebe, she told herself. There had to be something she could do, some way she could think her way out of this. Because the alternative wasn’t an alternative at all.

Good plan,
Logan called to Dylan mentally as they flew through the air at well over a hundred miles an hour.

I thought so.

Seriously, you can’t just go in there like a crazy person. That’s what they’re waiting for
.

I’m not crazy. I’m perfectly calm.
And he was. It was the strangest thing, but he could only describe it as the eerie calm before the storm. He could think with perfect clarity, plot and plan with the best of them. But only one thing mattered to him: getting Phoebe out. He
would
get her out, even if it meant his death.

Okay, yeah. I’m glad you think you’re calm. Because, to be honest, you look like a berserker on the middle of a rampage.

You haven’t seen anything yet
.

I know—that’s what I’m afraid of.

She’s my mate, Logan!
The words burst from him.
Do you really think I’m going to leave her in the grips of those bastards for one second longer than necessary?

Of course not. I know she’s your mate, and that’s why I’m preaching caution,
the other man shot back.
It’d be nice to have a mated pair in charge of the clan again
.

Dylan almost fell out of the sky.
You know?

Logan sent him a mental eye roll.
We all know, man. It’s not like you made a big secret of the fact that you’d grind us to dust if we touched her.

I thought it would bother you. I tried to ignore it, tried to push my feelings for her away as long as I could.

Why would you do that?
Logan sounded appalled.
You’ve been looking for your mate for more than four centuries
.

She’s not dragon, Logan.

So what? You’re going to give her up because of that?

I can’t give her up. I’ve tried.

I don’t know if that makes you stupid or smart.
Logan shook his head.
I’m disappointed in you, man. This beautiful, amazing woman comes along, and you think you’re going to throw her back because she’s not a dragon?

I already said I’m not throwing her back. I’ll give up the throne if I have to, give up the clan. But she’s mine.

It’s not an either-or situation, you know.

It could be. What if we can’t have kids?

That gave Logan pause, but then he shot back,
Because she’s human? We have more than a few shifter/human matches.

But not in the royal line. There’s never been a mixed marriage, never been mixed children. What if that’s for a reason?

I think you need to stop worrying and just be thankful you found her after all these years. Let the rest take care of itself.

Easy for you to say—you’re not the king.

And I think we can all be grateful for that.

The conversation stopped as another dragon joined them. He was big and muscular, his scales muted shades of green and silver. For the second time in the past few minutes, shock nearly plummeted Dylan to the ground.

Gabe?
he asked incredulously.

What? You didn’t think I’d let you take on these bastards without me, did you
?

I don’t. I didn’t—

Save it.
Gabe’s voice was grim, almost dead, but filled with a determination that promised vengeance of the worse sort.
They killed my wife and daughter. I’ll be damned if they get a shot at my best friend—at my king—too
.
I’ve been watching your back for too many years to stop now.

Emotion squeezed Dylan’s throat shut, had his talons curling into the dragon’s palms until he could feel blood dripping.
Thank you
. His clan’s faith in him—especially in dangerous times like these—never failed to humble him.

They stopped talking as they got closer to South Dakota and the Wyvernmoon compound deep in the Black Hills. But Dylan couldn’t help going over the conversations he’d had with Logan and Gabe again and again.

He’d failed at so many things in his life.

He hadn’t been able to save his brother from being ripped apart in front of his eyes.

Hadn’t been able to convince his father that he would make a good ruler in David’s stead.

Hadn’t been able to find a dragon mate or keep his clan safe or figure out this damn disease until it was too late.

Hadn’t been able to save his sister and his niece. And now, now he’d failed to protect the only woman he’d ever loved.

Terror raked at him with poisoned claws. When he thought of what Silus and his men could do to her before he and Logan showed up, it made him ache. Made him burn.

He wouldn’t fail at this, too. If they’d hurt her, he would burn the whole goddamn place to the ground with all of them in it. And to hell with the consequences. The Wyvernmoons needed to learn, once and for all, what came from fucking with the Dragonstars.

Eventually the compound came into view and he started dropping down, lower and lower. Looking it over from all angles as he searched for its area of greatest vulnerability.