Page 33 of Feathers and Scales

“It’s a Tattered One.”

“What do you need?”

That was a quick change—they must take this seriously.

“A perimeter in Wilgon Territory,” Daxton said. “Percy’s not going to listen to anything I ask of him.”

“Burning chief bridges already?” Raz asked.

“I’ve been doing that since I was born.”

She peeked up as Daxton’s face softened around the edges.What kind of man is he?

Raz laughed. “There’s only four of us. And I’m sure the others might ask for payment. If you forget, we Rogues don’t receive clan handouts, and pausing our lives isn’t easy.”

“I’ll get you guys tickets to the next Super Bowl.” As if it was a common enough transaction, Daxton continued, “Yes, indoor suite tickets.”

“Send me the details, and I’ll discuss it with the others.”

“Thank you.” He hung up.

“I thought Rogue dragons were hunted and killed?” The words slipped from Izzy’s lips.

“You sure read fast. The Centurion in America is different. If they swear to follow a few rules, he leaves them alone.”

He sounded like a fair dragon ruler.

A silence ensued, prickling at her nerves. She lived for comfortable stillness, but she fidgeted in her seat, craving conversation from the man next to her. It disturbed her. Hands tightening on the soft leather book, she forced herself to concentrate on the writing.

The Centurion’s veiled sexual comments included descriptions like “the sensitive button sewn into flesh was the color of dark rose petals” that made Izzy squirm.

Would Daxton say things like that about me?She fumbled with her glasses.Seriously Izzy, get your head on straight.

Despite Cornelius’s perverse words, he maintained meticulous records of dragons and Archfiends—the journal’s true purpose. She read his description of a female dragon’s body as “impenetrable as diamond,” and her body tensed. It seemed dragons might share similarities toArchangels.

She tried to ignore the festering emotion she hated—envy. It might have been metaphorical, but Cornelius used the explanation during a battle description.

Daxton took a sharp curve.

Izzy’s body conked into the door, and Simon’s manga slid across the dashboard. Huffing, she leaned forward to snatch it.You don’t have to be in such a rush.She glared at Daxton, who stared at the road.

As she flipped through the manga’s pages, her mind began to cloud with a creeping unease. Each page brought with it a deeper descent into worry. She’d allowed him to buy it because it saved her from having to explain her story, but Daxton’s kind wouldn’t take long to demand answers.

Gripping the book in trembling fingers, she reassured herself that none of the content had betrayed Fallen weaknesses. That information she kept to herself.

How could she tell the Fallen about the dragons? She could leave a message on their private server. But typed words were far too impersonal, and she wasn’t sure how they would react. Would they seek the dragons for security, or would they fear them? To better monitor their response, she preferred to communicate in person. But she rarely encountered other Fallen, except Thea.

With an inner sigh, she placed the manga in the middle console. She would worry about issues she couldn’t control later. Raising her head, she met Daxton’s hurried glance. She felt hot all over, like a kettle ready to pop if she didn’t say something.

“How did—”

“Are your—”

He quirked a grin in her direction. The expression transformed his face into open and inviting instead of an intimidating wall.

She waved her hand. “You go first.”

“I wanted to know how you met Simon. Has he always been a pickpocket?”