Page 9 of Draco's Fire

She interrupted his nonsense, “Collin, you’re a useless asshole, so maybe you can help me with a situation. Tyson Stallard is apparently marked for death, and won’t stop making public appearances. He’s going to get himself killed.”

“And then you won’t be able to have his dragon babies?” Collin wasn’t done frustrating her.

“I swear to God, I’m going to throat punch you into next week.” Shayla said through gritted teeth.

“Take it easy girlfriend. I’m on your side. I saw you cyber stalking him when I went for coffee. I get it. He’s a catch.” Collin gave her a big obvious wink.

“Whatever,” she continued, “I just want to know the man is safe.”

“Why don’t you pitch a security detail to Phil?” Collin actually gave some solid advice.

Shayla sat there and considered the idea for a few moments. “You think he’ll go for it?”

“What would it hurt to ask?” he had a good point.

Collecting a collage of reports and files from her disheveled desk, she approached Phil’s office. The door was shut, like usual, so Shayla knocked on the beveled glass.

“It’s open.” Phil said from inside the cramped little office.

Shayla let herself in and dumped the paperwork on Phil’s desk, instantly turning it into a tornado strike zone. “Okay. I have a request. Don’t say no till I’m done.”

Phil sat back in his chair with equal parts scowl and smirk. He was frequently annoyed by Shayla’s requests, but just as likely to be amused by her antics. “You’re on the clock.”

“Okay. So, Tyson Stallard is a guy that shouldn’t need any protection, but he does. As you probably know, he’s a dragon shifter but has taken some vow of pacifism and started the organization HOPE, which promotes human and metahuman relations. This hasn’t been going over with the local supremacists and everywhere Tyson goes, violence follows.” Shayla couldn’t believe she’d been able to get all that out without interruption, but she could see Phil’s patience wearing out.

She went on, “Thing is, if he is killed by some crackpot, that could be the spark that ignites different metahuman factions into open hostilities. For the sake of the city, maybe the country, I believe we need a security detail assigned to Stallard to keep him from going tits up.”

Shayla was able to catch her breath after the lengthy explanation and she stood firm waiting for Phil to say no so she could come at him with argument number two.

“That sounds pretty smart to me. Assemble the team and get on it. Keep me posted.” Phil was hard to read sometimes, and Shayla wondered if he was actually pulling her leg. No request was ever this easy.

“For real?” she finally said.

“Would you rather I said no?” Phil loved to answer questions with questions.

“No sir. I’ll get on it.” Shayla left the office and scanned the bullpen for the team. Too many of them were fresh faced newbs, but you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.

Later in uptown Manhattan, Tyson Stallard’s skyscraper penthouse featured rooftop access with a topiary labyrinth and had been featured in a number of publications for its elegance and old-world charm.

The butler showed Shayla into Tyson's office which was right out ofRich Guy Weekly.Detailed mahogany and calf skin leather everywhere you looked. Gil and Tyson both rose from their facing seats as she entered the room.

Gil extended his manicured hand first, “Agent Simmons, what an unexpected pleasure to see you again.” It was widely believed that Gil Xander was perhaps the wealthiest man on the planet with a global business that was into pretty much every industry. If he wasn’t the richest man, he certainly had the same tailor.

Every stitch of clothing was perfectly measured and cut, and every hair on his head, even his jet-black beard, seemed that it had been placed with precision to maximize his sharp eyes.

Despite Gil’s charm and style, it was Tyson that commanded her attention. Just seeing his platinum blonde curls and piercing blue eyes did unspeakable things to her nether regions.

Tyson also extended his hand and she could feel the power coursing through his veins. It was next to intoxicating. “Yes, Agent Simmons. A real treat to see you again.” Tyson said.

She knew he was even older than her, but there was a certain boyish quality in his smile that drew her in. Almost like he knew a hilarious secret about everyone he spoke to, but kept it to himself.

Gil interrupted her trance. “What brings you all the way here, we need to know so we can keep doing it.” He had the smile of a practiced politician.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m here to offer Mr. Stallard a personal security detail courtesy of PEACE. We’re very concerned about the escalating threat and believe if something were to happen to Mr. Stallard it could be extremely detrimental to human and metahuman relations.” Shayla made her case as best she could.

“Yes!” Gil exclaimed. “Please talk some sense into this man.”

“First, its Tyson, not Mr. Stallard,” he began, “and I think I’ve explained my position on this extensively.” Tyson still had the youthful smirk, but Shayla could see a storm in his eyes.

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