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I know. In an ideal world, we’d have weeks or months to help her before doing any sort of interrogation. But information about the dragon hunters is time sensitive, and if she knows anything, we need it now.
It was true—in the past, the hunters had sometimes moved bases within hours, rendering their gathered intelligence useless.
So he’d just have to be vigilant and observant, and come up with questions to ask Dr. Rossi later.
For now, he waited for his daughter, Melanie, and Tristan to arrive and for his new job to begin.
ChapterThree
Some sort of cheering noise jolted Percy awake. She sat up and moved backward until she bumped against the wall. Blinking, she tried to adjust to the light. The first thing she noticed was no one was standing in front of her or over her or pointing a gun at her.
The room also smelled unfamiliar, and then her eyes finally latched on to the small group of people sitting around a table on the far side of the space.
Everyone stared at her.
There were two males, a younger female, and a slightly older female. Three out of the four had flashing pupils.
Dragon-shifters.
The only one without flashing dragon eyes, a short female with reddish-brown hair and green eyes, said, “You’re awake. Sorry for all the noise. It was totally my fault. I never win, and I finally did and couldn’t hold back my excitement.”
Her accent was strange, one that Percy had heard only once or twice in her life.
But before she could ask anything or demand answers, the younger female stood, smiled, and said in an accent that sounded like Percy’s, “Hi, my name’s Violet! And it was also my fault. I’m kind of loud sometimes. My dad says most of the time, but…” She paused, put a hand to one side of her mouth, and whispered, “I don’t believe him.”
The two males both had dark hair, but one had gray eyes and the other brown. The one with gray eyes turned around more in his chair and said, “I’m Bronx, Violet’s father. And this is Tristan and his mate, Melanie. What should we call you?”
She eyed each of the four people, looking for any signs of deceit, or forced smiles, or anything to suggest they might be part of some doctor’s mad scheme, ones they used to test her on various shite.
But the flashing pupils were real, and if anything, the one named Bronx let his curiosity shine in his eyes, along with some sort of emotion she’d never seen in her life.
However, none of that crap mattered. She last remembered Denny shooting her with a tranquilizer dart, a blond dragonman, and then waking up here. She blurted, “Where am I?”
Percy expected them to tell her to shut the fuck up. However, the younger female, named Violet, spoke up, rocking on her toes and back to her heels. “This is Clan Stonefire. We’re in the Lake District, not too far from Manchester. Do you know where either of those places are?”
For a second, shame rushed through her. She hadn’t attended school since she was twelve, when she’d been sold to the facility, and hadn’t been allowed to read anything over the last seven years except for the signs or notes on the wall.
She sure as hell hadn’t been given a map or a guide to the UK. Although, to be honest, their accents didn’t mean they were still in the UK. “No. Where the hell is this? England?”
Violet nodded. “Yes, but—”
Bronx cut off his daughter, his tone gentle. “This is Ava and Joey’s home. Thank you for taking care of them.”
No one had ever thanked Percy for anything. Ever. And she didn’t know what to say.
Then she remembered she knew nothing about these bloody people and fell back on her take-no-shit armor. “If this is their home, then where’s Ava’s uncle? He made a deal with me, and I need to talk to him about it.”
The female—human, yes, she smelled human, like all the guards and doctors—named Melanie spoke up. “Bram’s super busy with all the cleanup from rescuing you and the others. He’ll visit when he can, I’m sure. For now, we’re just here to keep you company. Are you hungry? Need some new clothes? Want to play a card game with us? Just let us know, and we’ll see what we can do.”
The human’s smile was so warm that Percy decided it had to be fake. No one was nice without wanting something. “Even if I wanted food, why should I trust you? I only eat food I make myself.”
Violet jumped in. “Well, there’s food in the kitchen, I think.” She took a step toward her. “Are you strong enough to stand?”
Bronx murmured, “Violet.”
“What, Dad? She’s hungry. And maybe she just wants to get up and move a little. I can barely stand staying in bed, even when I’m sick. Maybe she’s the same way.” She turned back toward Percy. “Are you?”
She took a second to study the female, who was younger than she was. The girl had medium-brown hair and brown eyes, with a few freckles on her nose and a constant smile on her face. She wondered if this was what normal people looked like if they had families. Even if she didn’t know anything about them, the looks shared between Bronx and Violet at least said they didn’t hate each other.
