And everyone is so sure that Michaël wouldn’t keep prisoners in Versailles. It would upset some of his men—not to mention the humans—if it came to their attention.
So, the only possibility that is left is that a flying car—that can go almost as fast as a dragon—left while Elhyor’s team was still battling Michaël’s men inside Versailles and went to hide my dad’s team somewhere else.
We’ve circled a zone on a map around Paris. It shows what is an hour of flight in every direction for a bird shifter. Angie explained there wouldn’t be any chance that her father would let the team out ofhis sight for too long. According to her, he would want to be the one torturing them, or at least overseeing the torture.
It makes my stomach queasy, but I still count that as a blessing. It means there is a higher chance we can find him on camera.
And then we can find my dad.
There is a second circle on that map—one for a two-hour flight—but it almost reaches Lyon and I don’t think Michaël would hide so many men so far away.
After three days looking for answers inside the archives and three nights finding pleasure together in my bed—yes, Léandre never moved his bag back into his assigned room—it’s Angie who finds something in one of Zair’s old journals.
It seems there were recordings of bird-shifters near some castles bordering the riverla Loire.
It dates from before Aléa—the shape-shifters world—collided with Earth, but it’s worth sending teams to double check.
I storm after Angie out of the archives when she leaves to warn Elhyor of what we found. But instead of following her to his office, I run to Pierre’s office. He’s the third in command, and with my dad absent, he’s going to be the one Elhyor will defer to when building the teams.
So, I’m not losing time by going to Elhyor.
I can feel Léandre following me, but I’m not waiting for him, either.
Those last three days have been blissful for me and I start feeling like it might be the beginning of something, but I also know how all of those male shifters are.
He’s going to want to protect me, but I don’t want that. I might not be a warrior, but I’m capable. I’ve been sneaking around my whole life, so if those are just recon missions, I would be perfectly suited for them.
“I want to go,” I tell Pierre right after I bang his door against the wall.
I don’t knock. I don’t even announce myself or say hi.
I’m all business, and Léandre arrives right when Pierre answers.
“Where do you want to go, Cassie?”
He looks at me like I’m slightly deranged or like I just banged my head against the wall instead of the door.
Oh, well, I might look like a lunatic, but I don’t care.
“The recon teams you’re about to get tasked with building,” I tell him with an even voice while I straighten my spine.
I’m waiting for his holo to ring or vibrate or whatever mode he set it to, but it doesn’t come.
“Are you sure about that?” Pierre asks after a long pause.
His question is slightly demeaning. It makes me look like I’m losing my mind. I never really liked Pierre. It’s been worse since I told him off five years ago. He’s power hungry, and weirdly, I seem to be the only one noticing. Hence why he’s third in command. I won’t bad mouth him though, because he’s competent and does the job well. It’s just that he can’t be bothered to hide his condescending side when the person he talks to isn’t a warrior… or a prospective bedmate.
And I already told him it would never happen, so it leaves me in none of the categories he tolerates.
“We found something while being in the archives,” Léandre says, but when Pierre turns to him, the only thing that graces his face is a sneer.
Oh well, it seems there is worse on Pierre’s kill list: birds.
Pierre turns to face me without even addressing Léandre.
“Go back to playing with your books, Cassie. The warriors have work to do.”
I’m fuming. I want to hit him so bad—reduce that stupidly handsome mouth hiding all his poison to pulp. I take a quick step and that’s when Pierre’s holo finally rings.