Page 1 of Wild Fire

PROLOGUE

In the Age of Dragons, the immortal beasts ruled the skies and the land below. When the Age of Man arose, the prophets foretold of a time when dragons would be no more. Desperate to ensure their viability, they chose a great sorcerer to help them save their kind, but magic always has a price.

The strongest warrior from each of the ruling clans retained their immortality as well as being granted life as a human-dragon shifter. Those twelve banded together to form the Phantom Fire—elite warriors and mercenaries who would ensure the survival of their kind.

But in exchange for this boon, magic demanded an even greater sacrifice—the warriors were condemned to live without a mate until they were willing to give up their immortality for their eternal flame.

CHAPTER 1

WARRICK

Dragonwyk

Wind River Mountains

Continental Divide, Wyoming

Three Months Ago

Warrick soared above the clouds that encompassed the Wind River Mountains. He’d been idle for far too long. Perhaps he would request leave and slake his need for action of some kind with a woman. He began to descend to Dragonwyk in a lazy spiral. He could see a lone figure waiting for him. Sobek—second in command to the Phantom Fire.

The urge to head back into the skies was strong. Warrick snorted. My name is Warrick. I am one of the fiercest warriors of the Phantom Fire, and I am immortal. He snorted again, this time breathing fire in circular loops as he landed. Sobek waiting for him was not good; not good at all.

A few minutes later Warrick had landed, shifted, pulled on a loincloth, and had his concerns affirmed.

“Slavers? What do we care what humans do to each other?” asked Warrick, who cared little for anyone, least of all humans.

“Normally, we don’t,” agreed Sobek, second-in-command of the Phantom Fire.

“Then why are you sending me to Seattle to find some silly cult? The Pacific Northwest is full of them. That some of them have turned to human traffickers to fund their petty schemes should be of no interest to us.”

“Again, in most cases it wouldn’t be, but this is not ‘most cases.’ Two drakaina have gone missing from the Seattle area. Ridley Monroe has been unable to locate them, but word has begun to leak out that there are slavers hiding behind the cult who are in fact trafficking in drakaina, shifters and others.”

“What?” snarled Warrick.

Sobek nodded. “He can’t very well call in the police or the FBI, now can he? You’re our best tracker and have a talent for finding lost things. Things that are precious to our kind. As I recall, you lost one of your sisters to slavers.”

That had been a long time ago. A very long time ago. As in more than a thousand years ago, but still the wound had never healed. Warrick had been destined to join the Phantom Fire when his sire found his eternal flame and left the brotherhood, promising his firstborn son would take his place. That son had been Warrick. Tradition and duty had prevented him from even trying to rescue his sister. Her body had never been recovered after she had died in a terrible place of ice and snow.

“Esme. She was such a kind, sweet thing. Even after all this time…” he let his voice trail off.

That was the burden of immortality—you were left to carry the memories on your own. His sister had been a sweet and biddable thing but had been caught by slavers when she disobeyed their father’s orders and had ventured outside of the castle. Even then, and perhaps more so, the Phantom Fire had been a force to be reckoned with, but their strength and skill had been needed elsewhere. Warrick had been ordered to stay away and his father had been unable to track her past her departure from Brittania’s shores.

Warrick had never forgotten, and when he’d finally been able to track those who had taken Esme from this life, he exacted a terrible revenge—setting their entire village ablaze and watching it burn to the ground while he soared above it, his large body casting an eerie shadow over the destruction. Circling and roaring, breathing fire and instilling fear until there was nothing left but ash. It wouldn’t bring Esme back, but at least she had been avenged, and sometimes that was all a warrior could do.

“If it’s too close,” started Sobek.

“No. You’re right. I’m the best suited to the task. Besides, it’s been a while since I made some slavers my sport.”

“Hold. You are not to attack. If you can get the two drakaina out with little evidence of what transpired, fine. Otherwise, you report back, and we will lead a small squad of Monroe’s men. What we don’t want is to give the cops, the FBI, or any human authorities any indication that dragons exist in the world.”

“Well, obviously the slavers know.”

“That is neither obvious nor a given. The drakaina were snatched in downtown Seattle while they were out with friends. All were in human form so the slavers may not know what they have.”

Warrick shook his head. “That makes no sense. If they didn’t know they possessed drakaina, the drakaina would have shifted and made their own escape. It stands to reason that they were prevented from doing so, which means the humans must know enough to restrain them with iron. Does Monroe know if there have been other shifters taken?”

“I don’t know, and that is a good question. I know you. You don’t ask idle questions.”

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