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That was the only explanation for why Leomaris would arrest us now.
“At least arrest them too,” Victor said. “You must know Skrinde is a drug baron. If you let him walk free, you’ll be making a terrible mistake.”
The agent eyed Skrinde, who had gotten to the arm-waving part of his fantasy tale. The agent considered Victor’s words.
“Also, Kat is a murdering fuck, so . . . what have you got to lose?” Zee asked. “Cuff ’em and work it out later.”
“Watch them,” the agent ordered, gesturing at us. “Any funny business and you get the cuffs. Cooperate and this will be almost painless for you.” He waved for a few agents to join him and headed toward Skrinde and Kat.
Zee leaned in and whispered, “So, we gonna run now?”
We could. We hadn’t been restrained, and the chance to escape was fast closing. Once we were locked in the warded van, we’d be trapped in SSD care until we could plead our case. But if we ran, we’d be admitting we were guilty.
“No,” Victor replied, not sounding happy about it. “It is time we face the inevitable.”
A shout went up. I looked over and spotted Kat in cuffs, but Skrinde was sprinting across the street, two agents in pursuit.
“That was startlingly obvious,” Victor sighed.
“They’ll catch him, right?” Uncertainty rattled my nerves. I didn’t like this. Did not like it at all. Not just Skrinde running, but the whole setup. It felt as though we were walking into my brother’s trap without putting up a fight. Surrendering.
I had to get hold of Leomaris. I had to make them see we were innocent—mostly—and that this was all some game my brother was playing.
“We lost him!” an agent barked. “Call the wolf unit in.”
I knew where Skrinde was going.
I could stop him.
I glanced at Victor, met his gaze, and quickly looked away to Zee. Zee looked down, his typically animated expression hardening into a grim frown.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I told them. “Stay here . . .” I bolted, ignoring Zee’s shout to wait up. He could poof after me unless I ducked out of sight, but he didn’t. I danced around a reaching agent, ignored more shouts, and ran full pelt down the sidewalk. It was late, not much traffic, nobody around. Skrinde was long gone.
The time was now.
Between one step and the next, I shifted, tearing open my glamor and letting dragon pour out. In a heartbeat, I went from running through the street to wings out, flying above it. It would look bad, but Skrinde was not getting away. If the SSD weren’t going to fix this, then I would.
I flapped higher, coasting on the warm updrafts rising off the beach.
Miami from above was even more spectacular, but there wasn’t time to admire it.
Ahead, a black pickup truck wove its way toward the chunk of land sticking out from the city. Skrinde’s enormous estate stood out for its lack of lights, except for the ones glowing from the house in the center that was sparkling like crown.
I soared higher, riding the wind, and circled around to get a good look at the manicured gardens below. Plenty of room for a dragon to land.
Alright then . . . There wasn’t going to be anything nice or subtle about what came next.
I dove through the air, straight like an arrow, and at the last moment I flung open my wings and landed in the house’s grounds. My clawed feet dug into the soft lawn, and a swipe from my tail took out a few palm trees.
Wings open, I stretched and let out a thunderous roar.
Okay, not going to lie, it felt good to be me.
Heat peppered my side, scattering down my scales. I whipped my head around, and there stood Skrinde, Minigun pointing up from the guardhouse. The gun spat out another line of bullets, smattering my wing, punching a string of holes through the membrane.
That was not nice.
I swung my head around, turning and churning up the ground, and thrust my head toward him.