Page 7 of Ignite the Infernos

“Go,” I order, and all at once we’re on the move.

Adrenaline nips at my insides, coaxing me to move faster, demanding I corner my prey. The thrill of the hunt is only matched by my surging temper. I thought Ever and I were getting to know one another, building something together as Bonded Mates, but none of that mattered when she shoved a dagger through the Matron’s heart. It’s like she shoved one through mine too, and now I’m left with a festering wound in my chest. One that can only be healed by the truth, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get that from the Syphon that had everyone fooled.

“West side covered,” Tove reports.

“In position on the east,” Blay confirms.

“Entering the back entrance in three . . . two . . . one,” Ogdan counts off, and my anticipation rises with each measured breath.

Karis’s mountain-sized form blocks out everything in front of me. All I see is his dark-brown scale armor, thick tawny neck, and the ponytail he’s pulled his long black hair into. He starts to move, and I follow him through the front door with Chastain right on my heels. We stride confidently into the building to find a woman—the bank manager, I assume—standing off to the side, frantically gesturing down a corridor. A few surprised gasps fill the lobby of the bank, but we’re barreling down a hallway before the shock of the customers even registers.

Smooth as silk, Karis and Chastain switch places. Karis uses his bulk to help protect me from behind, and Chastain’s affinity is ready for anything or anyone that might come at us from the front. Triumph detonates through me when I spot her over Chastain’s shoulder.

Flame-colored hair spills down her back, and she’s sitting across from a banker who looks like he’s barely holding it together. I reach for the tenuous bond that’s been silent since the Fae Gate. I try to examine the frail, almost fragmented connection, but I still feel nothing. Our tether has always been fragile at best, but I thought it might strengthen in her presence. It looks like Ever’s deceit has damaged more than just my trust.

The banker locks eyes with Chastain and then Karis, and the blood drains from his ruddy face. He shoves away from his desk, sending his chair toppling over, but I’m through the door before Ever can so much as turn around and try to make a break for it. Karis blocks the only exit, and I reach for Ever’s arm, spinning her to face me.

A scream fills the office, and the fear in it pierces the rage and relief coursing through me. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I snap at the Syphon . . . only it’s not Ever’s green eyes staring up at me and filling with terror.

The female before me has freckles across the bridge of her nose, thinner lips, and a wider face than my Bonded. She could easily be mistaken as a relative of some kind if she didn’t reek of wolf shifter.

Startled, I release the stranger’s arm as though it just burned me and stagger back. “Who the fuck are you?”

The woman whimpers and tears fill her teal gaze as she cowers away from me. “I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I didn’t know. Please don’t kill me. I needed the money. I had no idea!”

“What are you talking about?” Chastain demands, and the fake Ever shrinks back even more.

“Scion!” Ogdan calls from the hallway, urgently waving me over. His gray eyes are bright with indignation, and his mouth is set in a hard line. “We have a problem.”

“You think?” I seethe, gesturing toward the redheaded Arc, who is most certainly not my mate.

“We’ve got her,” Ogdan declares again, making no sense, but he taps a few buttons on his forearm and a holoscreen pops up. Green dots light up in multiple cities bordering The Scorch, and Ogdan turns to me. “We’ve got her here, and in Vacahl, Enoit, Temmeh, Rord, and Croze. Each one is a bank running a blood sample that’s flagging as Unidentified Dragon. But here’s the kicker . . . they’re all the same sample.”

Trying to follow what the fuck is going on, I take in the map speckled in green and then look over at the impostor in the office. She’s crying and pleading with Karis, who’s studying a vial of blood pinched between his fingers.

Then it hits me.

“Fuck,” I snarl, turning on my heel and sprinting down the hallway. “She set us up,” I shout to Ogdan and Chastain, who are right behind me. “We need Flights deployed to each of those locations, and we need them NOW!”

Chapter 4

Ever

FUCK THE TAINTED, THE RELACOURS, The Horde, and everyone else I’m too bloody tired to think of right now. They can all sit naked on thrones made entirely of cacti in the middle of a raging sandstorm until they’re poked and abraded to death one painful layer at a time.

I snort a laugh at that visual and wipe sweat from my face. It doesn’t help—more sweat just takes its place, making me feel like soggy cereal encased in an armored suit. My foot catches on a crack, and with an embarrassing loud squeal, I just manage to stop myself from crashing face-first against the ground.

Running on empty, I groan with the effort it takes to steady myself. If I fall, there’s a good chance I won’t be getting up for a couple of days, and that can’t happen, not when I’m already cutting things so close. It doesn’t help that I’m dead on my feet and questionably conscious at the moment, but I’ve survived worse odds.

I speed up, pushing myself harder than I have the reserves to support, but I don’t have a choice. The neglected warehouse on the edge of the deadlands is within reach, and once I’m inside, I’m home free.

Miracle of miracles, I somehow stopped myself from revealing in the middle of Temmeh Financial. I have no idea how I managed it. I think the agony of fighting my dragon somehow worked in my favor, the pain helping to anchor me, maybe. Whatever it was, it sure as shit came at a cost. I barely got myself out of the office and then out of the bank. I was so weak and it felt like my body was punishing every step I took in retaliation for fighting the reveal.

Now, my thoughts are sluggish, my stomach is ready to mutiny from hunger, and every blink feels like fine-grit sandpaper against my eyeballs. I’m pretty sure I’m running on nothing more than a survival instinct that’s been battered beyond all recognition and pure, unadulterated obstinacy . . . but it worked, my plan worked.

Not wanting to jinx myself, I quickly scan the skies. A paranoid peek over my shoulder confirms I’m still alone. I didn’t pick up any tails when I left the blood bank, and no one followed me from the storehouse where I grabbed the pallet of provisions floating silently behind me.

Almost there, I encourage myself. Just this last step to get through, and then you can eat and rest.