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The pressure was mounting, even though the situation felt surreal. That so much could be riding on one second. That people’s lives would either be saved or lost and that it would all be decided before breakfast. It seemed too simplistic, but there it was. He spotted his father’s car, wondering which car was playing host to Anna. She wasn’t riding with Vasili, he was certain of that. Would she be able to get close enough to him? Might he? If he stuck with Nikolai, the possibility wasn’t too far-fetched.
He just wanted Anna out of harm’s way. If he could secure that then he didn’t care what happened to him.
He really didn’t.
The cars got rolling again, this time there were six of them, pulling out of the parking lot, following the lead car: his father’s.
This was it.
There was a tightening in Zeke’s chest that he couldn’t ignore or hope to get rid of, knowing that if it came to a choice between his life and Anna’s, he would give his up in the blink of an eye.
Resolved, he sat back and watched the blurry world pass by outside the window.
Chapter 18 - Anna
She was practically shoved out of the car by the henchman who had brought her into its backseat. She almost turned around and shoved the man right back but restrained herself. Mostly because her eyes landed on Zeke, getting out of another car across the large gravel yard they’d all circled. They were far beyond the city’s limits, in an area without any population. Remote and unmonitored. The cars were spaced out, about thirty feet apart, giving a wide berth to the helicopter that was hovering in the skies. It began its descent, the wind from the rotors whipping her hair around her head as she tilted it back to watch.
So, this was how the Incendiary was being delivered.
She contemplated how big it might be—this awesome weapon.
She couldn’t see Zeke anymore. He was hidden behind the helicopter as it touched down, landing gently on the ground.
Where was Vasili?
She searched for him and spotted him three cars down.
How the hell was she supposed to get to him?
The stress of that question was a rushing in her ears, like a stream down a mountain cliff, cold and swift. Her hands were clammy. She had to think of something, find a solution. She didn’t want to die. She had too much to live for. Too much she still had to do and see. What if Zeke had been right in his suspicions? What if Vasili would get his hands on the weapon and kill her just to ensure the war took place? Why had she let herself get caught? Why had she agreed to go in the first place? Her father had sent her back to the Kuznetsovs house thinking it would be the final piece of the puzzle. That she’d be on Vasili’s arm, like a prize, and it would grant her the access she needed. But her father had miscalculated her importance, and so had she, and now here she stood. Seeing no clear way of getting her hands on Vasili’s cell phone.
It had always been a gamble.
She’d known that.
The door of the helicopter opened, and her eldest brother Kirill stepped out of it, carrying a wooden box no bigger than a hardback novel.
That was it? That was all it was? She’d thought it was going to be enormous. Something threatening. Whatever was in that box didn’t look like it was meant to take over the world.
This was what she might lose all her memories for?
This was what she was willing to risk her life for?
She looked over at her father. Pietr Aslanov looked expectantly at his son, who was walking the box over to him. Kirill handed the box over with a wry smile and a nod. Pietr smirked, looking over at Semyon. Semyon kept his face serious, but he too gave a nod. Pietr turned to Vasili and crossed the short distance between them.
Anna couldn’t hear what was said, but he handed the box over to Vasili just as someone grabbed her from behind. There was a painful sting in the middle of her neck. It made her yelp, one hand immediately going to the spot.
“Ow!” she exclaimed when, suddenly, there was a fire.
There was dragon fire.
Everywhere.
The escalation of the events that followed was breathtaking.
Anna turned to whoever had done something to her neck, eyes meeting her second brother Luka’s as the ring of dragon fire began to trace his dark brown irises. He was shifting into his dragon shape. The henchman who had pushed her out of the car was on the ground, as was the driver. Necks wrung, both dead. Luka’s handiwork performed under the cover of the noisy arrival of the helicopter. He was the most ruthless of her three brothers, though he was the youngest.
He tossed something to her, something small. She caught it right when he gave her a wink. In the following breath, his skin rippled, giving way for the green scales that forever rested underneath. He quickly began to undress to save his clothes from tearing up during his transformation. His dragon shape grew into an animal three times the size of the car she had arrived in, but unlike the helicopter, when he took flight on strong wings, there was barely a whisper of noise.
