Page 2 of Love Fire

"It hasn't been confirmed, but we believe we've finally figured out how they're manufacturing it." Ryan's pause is uncharacteristic. It seems like he's bracing himself. "We believe it's processed dragon scale."

The room explodes in shouts of anger, but I can't form words. It feels like a chasm has formed in the pit of my stomach but also like I'm about to vomit. Alessandro was snorting fucking dragon scales. I don't know how or if I'm going to break that news to him.

"Quiet!" Ryans barks, and the room goes silent.

I don't know why, but his eyes meet mine. "Fauquier, do you have something to say?"

I've kept my cousin’s addiction a secret because it was never my story to tell. I'm certainly not going to tell a room full of stone-cold killers that he was addicted to a drug manufactured from parts of his own people.

But I have to say something. Everyone is staring at me now.

"I'm just disgusted by the idea and curious how we came by this knowledge. I'm not questioning the intelligence, just wanna know the source."

"I was planning on getting to that before I was interrupted. Just before the drug first hit the streets, there was a rash of dragons disappearing. Now with this latest batch, we've had at least twenty dragons who've disappeared in the last three weeks. All centered on Billings, Montana. According to our intel, that's where the drug is being distributed from."

"May I ask another question, sir?"

He nods.

"Correlation isn't always causation. Is there anything else that proves the connection?"

"So much for not questioning the intel," Jenkins, one of my squad mates, mutters under her breath.

"It's in the briefing packet. But in summary, when we first encountered the drug, the connection wasn't made. Chemical analyses didn't reveal dragon DNA, and we could only guess at the manufacturing process. But now that there's more cooperation between Draconis Fire and PEACE, they have access to a broader range of resources. It took witches to confirm the suspicion. The dragon scales are magically processed into Iridescence."

My heart sinks more. I was actually hoping the connection was flimsier. Although the relationship between Draconis Fire and PEACE, an organization of shifters and humans meant to stop infighting between the two groups by any means necessary, is tense at times, they do make a powerful ally on occasion. I can't think of a reason why they'd manufacture information like that, even as much as I wish it weren't true.

"Thank you, sir," I say, wondering if I'm the only one who feels like the room is spinning.

Ryans goes over the plan and starts assigning duties, but I'm barely aware of most of what he's saying. It'll all be in the briefing packet, anyway. I'll have to read over that when the ringing in my ears has subsided. The news alone would be enough to unsettle a dragon, but there's an added level just knowing someone, a family member, has been using this drug.

I want to find the sick bastards responsible for this and tear them apart with my claws. How does someone even come up with the idea of crushing dragon scales to get high? Granted, dragons make a lot of enemies. I can imagine a scenario where someone was just trying to figure out an easier way to kill us and stumbled upon the side effects of contact with crushed dragon scale.

But to turn around and then mill our kind. Twenty dragons. And those are the ones we know about.

When the briefing ends, I pack up and head home for my estate out in the mountains. Rolling the windows down, I turn up the music, trying to clear my head. This is a lot to take in. I've seen a lot in my years working for Draconis Fire, but this is going to be a whole host of new nightmares.

I pull up to a stop light and check my mirrors, suddenly wondering if the car behind me has been following me for too long. A healthy level of paranoia keeps you alive, but knowing your hide is an opiate is something else. I saw what Alessandro did to get the drug. It wasn't pretty.

There are bags under my light brown eyes. I need to sleep. But I won't be able to sleep. Not until I get something figured out. I take a sudden sharp left turn before getting on the highway. I'm not going home. I have somewhere more important to stop by first.

3

ERIN

Istand in front of the rehab center, my stomach roiling as I adjust my jacket. I can feel the packs of powder sealed into the false pockets. It's almost funny how they patted me down on the way out only to load me up with the stuff later.

Bringing it here, though, that's something else.

If not for this place, I'd still be strung out on it, or long dead. It's so easy to OD on Iridescence. This center got me off the stuff that I was and still am manufacturing.

How completely fucked up is that?

I felt guilty the first time around, when we started making it. But now having gone through the hell it can cause…

I shake the thought away. No sense dwelling on it if I can't do anything about it without dying or possibly worse.

Taking a deep breath, I head inside. Gloria is working the front desk tonight.

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