Page 34 of Draco's Fire

Once they were alone again, she took a sip of the coffee and eyed him over the rim of the paper cup.

"They aren't going to let me be near you," she said. "If I'm there, it won't be by your side."

"I'd feel better knowing that you're around watching my back."

"I'll go with you, but you have to promise me something?"

"Whatever you need?"

"If it happens again, and you find yourself with the chance, you do whatever you have to stop the killer. No matter what?" she asked.

Tyson hesitated. From the determined look on her face, he knew this promise was an all-or-nothing deal. It meant making capturing the assassin his priority, even over protecting her. The thought of letting her come to harm made him regret asking her to come. He could back out, say that he wouldn't do it.

Shayla pounced on his hesitation and said, "I want this lunatic off the streets. I don't want us to have to spend the rest of our lives waiting for him to strike."

"Our lives?" he asked, hope coloring his voice.

"Yes, Tyson. Our lives. I've missed you."

"I will do whatever it takes to see that this man is stopped." And while the thought of Shayla in danger felt like a dagger in his heart, the hope that they could overcome this and maybe have a chance to be happy was enough for him to endure it.

"No matter what?" Shayla asked.

Tyson could tell that she was probing his statement, making sure he wasn't trying to find some loophole out of the deal. But if it was what it took to be with her, he was going to have to compromise. Wasn't that what most relationships were about? Give and take. Finding common ground.

Granted, most relationships didn't involve armed gunmen trying to kill either or both people in the relationship. But this was a joining of a fae and a dragon. They were never going to be normal.

"No matter what."

She stood, leaned over the desk, and kissed him.

Twenty-Two

Shayla

“Check. All clear,” a familiar voice said, crackling through Shayla’s earpiece. Agent Barlow was last on her list, and she ticked the final box on her sheet. A knot of tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders eased as she tallied the latest bits of good news.

The integrity of the perimeter continued to hold strong. The rally had managed to launch without suffering any major hiccups. Even the weather was sunny and perfect—or had been when she’d crawled in the van two hours ago.

She stretched and spun around in her chair as far as it would go. It offered a welcome touch of relief because even the limited amount of movement made her feel slightly less hemmed in. Though she wasn’t claustrophobic by any stretch of the imagination, after a while the walls pressed in too close for comfort.

The amount of equipment they could cram inside one of these security vans never ceased to amaze her. Radios, microphones, all manner of electronic gadgetry, monitors, keyboards, and surprisingly comfortable chairs filled almost every square inch of space. Luckily, someone had thought to ensure there’d be just enough room left free for a coffee container or two.

All hail the generous gods of caffeine.Shayla took a sip of her favorite brew, savoring its slightly bitter hint of caramel. She turned to the agent seated close beside her and asked, “How’s it going? Any persons of interest showing up in the scans?”

Chetna Kumar kept her attention fixed to the screen in front of her as she replied, “Couple of small timers. A few known dirtbags. None worth tackling from the jump. No worries, though. I’ve got eyes on them.”

“Never doubted it for a second,” Shayla said—and meant it. Chetna was one of her favorite colleagues to work with, especially on days like today. She was clear-headed and reliable, a calm in the eye of any storm.

Shayla shook away the nagging dread clawing at her own composure. The crowd’s restless energy could be felt even from inside the van. Something about the pitch of its buzz made her feel twitchy and out of sorts.

Or maybe she was taking it all too personally. It was a rookie mistake to let emotional investment interfere with the job and she was tired of bruising herself in the backslide.You know the team’s got this and you need to get over yourself—Tyson isn’t even yours to worry about, anyway.

She got back to work scanning the cameras’ feeds, trying to spot any unusual activity. The close-up cameras registered nothing out of the ordinary, so she checked the overheads from the drones. Though big groups often seemed completely chaotic, they actually fell into discernible patterns more often than you might think. Sudden disruptions like violence or accident could scatter and pull sections of a crowd in particular directions, like a murmuration of starlings navigating the skies.

For now, the rally continued to unfold as planned. Nothing seemed out of order and the sights were nothing out of the ordinary. The usual slogans were chanted, and all manner of hand-painted signs, t-shirts, and banners proclaimed the views of a significant percentage of attendees.

The numbers seemed to favor HOPE’s cause, but there were plenty of wild cards out there. One bad actor could be enough to change the game. And her gut told her they were going to step on stage any time now.

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