Page 87 of Red Fury
“Remember,” she says, turning to face me with those unsettling eyes, “be respectful. The master doesn’t tolerate rudeness or defiance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I mutter.
Not!
She pushes open the doors, and we step into what can only be the living area.
The space is enormous, with tall windows offering a spectacular view of a city I recognize. I think I might know where I am, and it makes my breath catch in my throat.
Expensive furniture is arranged in conversation areas throughout the room, and more artwork adorns the walls.
But I barely notice any of it.
Because of who is there, standing with his back to us near the massive windows.
As we enter, he turns around.
My blood turns to ice.
“It’s you,” I whisper.
27
Fury
I check my phone for the twentieth time in the last hour, scrolling through empty message threads that mock me with their silence. Nothing. Not a single fucking word from Shadow since she disappeared from that parking garage.
My regular phone sits on the coffee table beside me, equally useless.
I resume pacing the length of my small apartment. Back and forth, back and forth, like a caged animal. Which is exactly what I am right now.
My dragon is absolutely losing his shit beneath my skin. He’s clawing, snarling, demanding that I shift. The urge is so strong that scales keep trying to press through my skin, and I have to concentrate on my breathing to keep from losing complete control.
She’s in danger. I know it. I feel it in my bones, in the way my beast is thrashing inside me like he’s trying to tear his way out of my human form.
Something is wrong. Something bad.
And I’m stuck here, helpless, waiting for Webb’s FBI contact to work his magic with phone traces while Shadow could be—
No. I can’t think like that. I can’t let my mind go to dark places about what might be happening to her right now.
I check my phone again.
Still nothing.
“Fuck!” I growl, the sound echoing off the walls.
If Webb doesn’t get back to me in the next ten minutes, I’m taking matters into my own hands. I’ll drive back to that airport, break into the security office, and get those parking garage camera feeds myself. Someone took her. Someone saw something. There has to be evidence somewhere.
The thought of Shadow scared, hurt, helpless… It makes something primal and violent surge through me. Makes my dragon roar for blood and vengeance.
Why do I care this much?
The question stops me mid-pace.
We had sex. Great sex. Twice. But that was supposed to be it.
So why does the thought of losing her make me feel like my chest is being ripped open? Because I need her for intel. That’s why.
