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Maybe we could become friends over time. For now, though, this was a business partnership and nothing more.
Maddox tucked his wings to his side and dipped us down toward the ground, beginning a smooth descent toward a wide-open parking deck. Wind slapped at my face, messing up my hair and sending me into a blinking frenzy, and yet I found myself loving it. This feeling of flying, of experiencing the world on dragon-back, it gave me a rush I hadn’t felt in a long, long while. A pure rush, the kind you get from shouting your throat raw on a roller coaster or when you collapse to the ground after a thrilling game of tag as a kid.
That light-headed elation quickly vanished as the tall cement block of a tower cast a shadow on the parking lot. It was one of the only buildings that didn’t have windows or ads or color. We were on the outskirts of Downtown, by the infamous Skull Row, known for its streets full of lost souls desperate to do anything for their next hit of whatever drug got their hooks in them.
I wasn’t getting nervous about the neighborhood or the hell-hole we were about to walk into.
I was nervous about the man we were going to be sitting across from.
One of the leaders of the Crimson Ring. Just thinking about it made my stomach clench as Maddox brought us to a smooth landing, kicking up a cloud of dirt and rocks with the flapping of his wings.
My throat felt tight. A headache split across my forehead. I rubbed at my temples as Maddox flattened himself down to the ground, letting me slide off him. I sucked in a breath full of car exhaust and city grime.
I could turn back. I could choose, right here and now, to decline the job and tell everyone to fuck right off. I should have done that the second I realized the Crimson Ring was involved.
But the money… I needed it. I had a debt to pay. A huge debt.
The jail looked like a tomb, where the worst of society went to be forgotten. It was guarded and run by a specially trained contingent of Enforcers, the white-robed Marvels who were responsible for law and order and the balance of magic. They were the only Marvels equipped with the ability to sever another Marvel from their connection to the mana, effectively giving them a magical lobotomy and sentencing them to a withering death. It was a fate that even I, someone who didn’t enjoy or fully accept my abilities, dreaded with every fiber in my core.
And still that wasn’t what made me nervous about this place.
Maddox shook himself and stretched his wings. I squinted at him, blocking my eyes from the sun and taking him in one more time. I could tell he was doing it to show off, but honestly, I wasn’t too upset about it. Seeing his sapphire blue and deep navy scales ripple in the light made him seem like a moving wave, ready to wash over me and wipe away all my worries.
Fuck. Wouldn’t that be nice?
A plume of blue smoke consumed him. Moments later, the smoke dispersed and left behind a smiling Maddox, wearing a tight gray shirt that hugged his juicy chest and big shoulders, the intensity of his gaze nearly knocking me off the parking deck and down onto the street.
“How’d you like the ride?” he asked, arms crossed, biceps pushing at his sleeves.
“Hated it,” I said, hiding my smirk as I turned and started walking toward the building. “Let’s go before I change my mind about this whole thing.”
Maddox chuckled and followed behind me. He said something under his breath, something that very much sounded like “I can watch you go all day.”
I wasn’t paying much attention. All I could keep thinking was Fuck. I really hope Kyler doesn’t recognize me.
Chapter 12
Interrogating Irons
Maddox
Caleb bit his nails as we waited to be checked into the prison, and he wouldn’t stop shuffling on his feet. I asked if he wanted me to handle this alone, but he insisted that he wanted to be there. He continued to pick invisible lint off his dark red polo shirt and would avoid looking into anyone’s eyes.
What the hell was going on with him? Was it the flight here that shot his nerves, or was it something else? I wasn’t entirely happy about walking into a prison either, but it wasn’t like we were in any danger. The Enforcers had this place on a magically enforced lockdown, with each individual held in a soundproof and escape-proof cell equipped with nothing but a mattress and a toilet. The prisoners who were on the lower floors were the ones who didn’t require as much supervision, those who were allowed to congregate in large dining rooms and rec rooms. As you went higher in the facility, the crimes grew worse and worse. The twentieth floor—the penthouse level—held a total of four criminals. The worst of the worst.
