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Frowning, I turned around, looking at the placement of the furniture. I couldn’t see him going to the effort of dragging out filing cabinets every time he wanted to get something out or put something in a safe. But a drinks cabinet had definite possibilities.
I walked over and opened a couple of doors. There were several racks of glasses and bottles of alcohol, but nothing that couldn’t be easily shifted. And despite the fact that the cabinet was both heavy and old, it wouldn’t be that hard to move. Not for a dragon.
I shoved my weight against one edge and forced the cabinet away from the wall. Sure enough, there was a safe behind it. I squatted, studying the lock. It wasn’t particularly up to date, and even if it had been, it wouldn’t have stopped a determined dragon. Or a half-dragon.
I cracked my knuckles, then set to work and had it open in a couple of minutes—almost triple the time my brother would have taken, but then he was a professional. I just played at it occasionally.
I opened the door. Inside sat several manila folders, some bulging with papers, others not.
I grabbed them all, shut the door and tumbled the locks closed, then moved the cabinet back. I grabbed the map, shoved it on top of the folders, then headed back down the stairs.
Leon wasn’t moving. His skin was ashen, a sharp contrast to Damon, who seemed to positively glow.
“What are you going to do with him?” I stopped several yards away and studied Leon’s chest. He was breathing, so he wasn’t dead, and I wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that or not. If anyone deserved to die, it was him. But if he was kille
d, then people would know, and that was the one thing we needed to avoid. “We can’t afford to leave him here alive, and we can’t risk taking him with us.”
“Which is why I’ll be flying him out to sea.”
And Leon wouldn’t be flying back, if the angle of his arm was anything to go by. He’d drown, because few dragons were good swimmers and Leon was worse than most. His death would be long and pain-filled, and I really couldn’t get upset about that, if only because we needed as much time as possible before Seth realized his lover was dead.
But his death was one of the ones I needed to save Rainey.
“I found a safe filled with paperwork,” I said, “and a map that might prove useful if we can find the key.”
“Good. Go back to the apartment and sort though those papers. I’ll be back by seven.”
Meaning he was going to fly Leon a long way out to sea. “Be careful.”
He gave me a smile that made my insides curl, but his eyes were still hard. Still doing the job, still concentrating on the kill, even if he hadn’t yet killed.
“Keep an eye on the windows, Mercy, and see who else comes into the club.”
I nodded, then turned and headed out. Once back in the apartment, I made myself coffee then settled down to read the paperwork. I started with the thinner folders, but it wasn’t until I was on my third cup and had started in on the fattest of the folders that I found something.
And it was the one thing I didn’t want to find.
The town of Red Rock was slated for destruction.
In less than six hours’ time.
Chapter Twelve
God, we had to stop it from happening. Had to.
And yet even if we flew there, what could one draman and one muerte do against the force that these people seemed to have behind them? Damon might be a trained assassin, but all it would take would be one bullet to bring him down, and I had no doubt these men would do just that. After all, it was what they’d done to Angus, and he’d been far less dangerous.
We needed help.
I ran to the phone and quickly dialed Leith’s number.
He answered on the second ring. “Phoenix Investigations, Leith Nichols speaking.”
“It’s Mercy again.”
He reacted to the note of panic in my voice, his own filled with urgency. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know of a place called Red Rock in Nevada? And if so, how long will it take me to drive there from San Francisco?”
