Page 1 of Fatal Vision
Chapter One
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COLTONBELLS WOKEat 3 a.m. to a blaring television and one hell of a hangover.
His mouth was as dry as an Oklahoma cotton field and he had to pee, but his brain was fuzzy with the remnants of another dream about Shelby. While his bladder told him to get moving, it took him a minute to remember where he was and why he felt like shit.
Because of Shelby? Check. She’d been laughing in the dream. Calling his name and waving at him to follow as she danced through the tall wheat grass of a field behind her childhood home. He knew that place all too well.
His blurry eyes caught on a mostly empty bottle on the coffee table, his cell phone and keys tossed next to it. The dragon in his chest laughed. Bourbon? Yeah, that might be the cause too.
On the TV screen, his latest Netflix marathon played on, and it looked like he’d missed at least two episodes of the space drama.
Science fiction was so much more satisfying than real life.
Shoving himself into a fully sitting position, he wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and looked around. Outside of the couch, coffee table, and TV, there was a mini kitchen and a bathroom. No curtains, no pictures on the walls, nothing to differentiate this place from any of the others he’d been in recently.
Except…
Oh, yeah. There it was. The hole in the wall his fist had made the last time he’d been in DC when his dragon had raised its head. He’d had to help with a little incident involving his boss—she’d given birth during an ambush at her home by a black market antiquities dealer and her goons. Colton had beat ass over there to help a couple of other Shadow Force members stop the woman from killing Beatrice, her husband, Cal, and their baby, Sloane.
The Reeses had all survived. The antiquities dealer, not so much.
Colton attended an impromptu baby shower for the family a few weeks ago and Beatrice and Cal had been so happy. Afterwards, his dragon would not leave him alone. He’d had so much pent up frustration over the fact he wasn’t married to Shel anymore, and the kids they’d always talked about having were nothing but a pipe dream, he’d punched the wall of his apartment and drowned his sorry self in bourbon.
It was becoming a habit.
A habit Beatrice Reese wasn’t going to tolerate for much longer.
Thank God she understood his neuroses. His inability to stay in one place worked for her and Shadow Force International. The dragon kept him on the move, never able to settle in one place without lashing out, so B sent him on regular missions and floated him between the three SFI headquarters—one on each coast and the latest in Chicago.
Chicago had been a blast, working with Jaxon Sloan and taking down a couple of no-good terrorists. But now he was back in DC.
Alone.
Colton pushed off the shabby couch and plodded into the bathroom to relieve himself. He was washing up when he heard his phone.
Good. Maybe SFI had a new mission for him. He needed something other than Shelby, bourbon, andDark Mattermarathons to focus on.
Shelby. God. Every. Fucking. Moment. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Ever.
Honest truth was, he didn’t want to.
The phone barked again, and he realized it wasn’t his work cell. The ringing was coming from the couch—insidethe couch.
Digging between two cushions, he felt around, and yep, there it was. The ringing phone he never answered.
Because his personal cell never rang.
His one friend, Connor McKenzie, worked at SFI as well. He had no mother, father, or other family to ever check on him. Hence, the phone had managed to go AWOL into the couch without him even noticing.
Unknown Number.Hmm. A telemarketer or some scammer in a foreign country, no doubt, oblivious to the fact it was the witching hour along the Eastern US seaboard.
Colton hit the decline button and tossed the phone back onto the couch cushion. Tipping back, he closed his eyes, only to hear a soft knock on his door.
He peeked open one eye. Who would be at his door at this hour?
