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Someone took Bryn Lloyd.
She didn’t run away.
ChapterTen
RHYS
“You said you would have dinner with him,” I said, a tad taken aback as I sat down on the couch in the caravan.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” Navy tried to explain. “He has information for me, and it needs to be given in private.”
“What kind of information?” I asked, raising my voice. It had started raining, and the drops pinging off the roof created quite a din inside.
“Hopefully, information on Bryn Lloyd.”
“I don’t like the idea.” Neither did Vortigern. The red dragon grew restless inside me, and I didn’t relish his presence after our last encounter. “Too many things are happening. It’s dangerous.”
“Morgan is a cop. I’m sure he’s capable of keeping me safe,” she argued.
“He likes you,” I said, cutting to the point.
She smirked, shaking her head. “No, he doesn’t.”
“Christ, you’re more naïve than I thought.”
She went to punch me in the arm, but I caught her hand before it landed. “I’m not naïve,” she insisted. “In fact, no one has ever called me that before.”
I kept her hand in mine. “When it comes to how beautiful you are, you most definitely are naïve. The superintendent wants you.”
She pulled her hand out of mine, scooting away from me. “He’s a friend. Why do you care anyway? If I should be scared of anyone, it’s you.”
“I care because you are staying as a guest on my property. Therefore, your safety is my concern. And you said so yourself: you don’t believe Bryn ran away. There is someone out there taking innocent girls.”
“I’m hardly innocent, so I have nothing to worry about,” she said.
“I’ll agree with the first part of that statement,” I teased.
This time, her punch did land.
Vortigern purred. Bloody sadist. “Careful, or you’ll wake the dragon,” I said. “And it won’t be pretty.”
“I’m beginning to think that’s the name you’ve given your dick. Not a secret society thing.”
“Trust me, as much as he would like to think he controls my cock, he doesn’t. I’ve already told you it’s the red dragon. Y Ddraig Goch. Vortigern. Call him what you like.”
“As in the dragon on the Welsh flag?”
“The one and only,” I said, hoping she would understand and not freak out on me.
“You really are deranged.” The rain picked up, growing even louder in the small space. “Speaking of secret societies, Sam was at the press conference.”
“That took a lot of nerve,” I said, relieved to have skirted the topic of the monster for now.
“Granger made him come. He’s still focusing on a secret society being involved in the disappearances.”
“Richard Granger, the new crime and security editor of the Times?”
“Yes. He’s a jerk.”
