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“What makes you think he hasn’t told me everything?”
“Because I know if I had just discovered you were my fated mate, the last thing I’d want to be doing is talking about global and genetic conspiracies. I have to say, it’ll be good to have Carson in our corner. We know the Shadow League—you know who that is, right?”
“Kind of. Group of bad guy shifters out to rule the world.”
Mason nodded. “Yep; that’s pretty much it. They are up to something—something big—and we think it’s based in genetics, but we don’t know for sure. There have been scientists and researchers who have gone missing over the past few years, and we think either they have been killed or recruited. What brought you into this mess?”
Mason seemed to have put his cards on the table, and she figured she’d do the same. After all, he was family. “I was hired by a company out of Seattle to do a dead drop of a package. It never occurred to me until now, but why hire me? I fly out of Bellingham.”
“Any chance the company was the Phoenix Corp?” She nodded. “Where’s the package?”
“At the bottom of a lake. Something went wrong with my plane and the engine fouled on me, which again doesn’t make sense as I just had the damn thing serviced.”
“My guess is,” Mason said, finishing off his food. “someone tried to ensure the package never got delivered. Let me guess, the dead drop was an old, abandoned landing strip. You were to send it down by parachute and leave it to be retrieved by someone you would never see.”
“I take it that someone was you?”
“Yep. I was out of the country, and when I got back, Colby said he had another quick job for me.”
“Colby?”
“Want more?” he said, getting up from the table.
“No, I’ll be good with this when I finish.”
“Yeah, Colby. Colby Reynolds, a lynx-shifter out of Mystic River. That’s not really true. He’s kind of an entity unto his own. He’s been working on this thing longer than anybody. He has an intelligence network second to none. Seriously, the CIA could take lessons from him. Anyway, he’s been supplying the resistance that’s gathering with information. I don’t know how many of them know, but the guy has serious mojo. More wine?”
Amelia held up her glass. “You were to take the package to this Colby guy?”
“Yep. And if he was willing to do a dead drop, it must be important.”
“Does he own the Phoenix Corp?”
Mason laughed. “He wishes. Phoenix Corp is owned by a group called the Phantom Fire—dragon-shifter mercenaries out of the Wind River Range.”
“Holy shit. There are dragon-shifters?”
“They don’t mingle a lot with other shifters, but word is they’ve stumbled across information they’re willing to share, using Colby as the go-between. He’s hoping he can get them to throw in with the resistance. Falkor, their leader, is a hard nut to crack, but some of the younger dragons—younger being a relative term—might be more amenable. Who gave you the package?”
“A guy named Tevryn. Do you know him? Is he a dragon-shifter?”
“Yes, but only by reputation. One of their most fierce warriors. Colby may want to pick your brain about him.”
“Slim pickings.”
“You’d be surprised. Our brains process a lot of images and information that takes us a while to realize we even have. Any idea when my idiot brother might return?”
Amelia froze, realizing she had been picking up on something. “Maybe sooner than I thought. You won’t object if I kick him in the shin for not leaving me a note, will you?”
“I’d aim higher if you want him to learn the lesson,” he teased.
The door flew open, and a half-frozen and obviously exhausted Carson stumbled in. Both she and Mason rushed to greet him, with Amelia getting there first and launching herself into his arms. He staggered back, closing the door and holding her close.
“I thought you were going to kick him in the nuts?” quipped Mason.
“I changed my mind,” she said with relief as he set her down and she helped him strip out of the expedition suit.
“I got the package,” he said, handing it to her.
