Queen of Death

Solana

Once we’re far enough away that we’re confident we haven’t been followed, Tate and I shift out of our dragons mid-flight. He scoops me out of the air, tucking me tightly against his body like he’s done before, and flies us both back to safety.

“Where do we go from here?” I shout above the whipping winds.

“Home,” he shouts back but it’s not home that he brings us. He takes us deep into the heart of the city to an empty level of a parking garage where I’m surprised to find my bike sitting alone.

“What are we doing here and why is my bike here? What’s going on?” The faintest tendrils of fear threaten to coil around me. I thought I could trust Tate and the guys, so far they’ve given me no reason to doubt them. But when Tate says we’re going home and then brings me to an abandoned parking garage, more than a few alarm bells start to sing.

“We’re going to drive home. Loudly and visibly. If anyone is watching our movements we want them to see us go home. Then from there we will shadow and fly to one of our safe houses.” Tate says calmly as he slips my helmet over my head.

“Everyone goes to the same house?” I ask as a means to confirm that we’re all going to be grouping back up together, that I won’t have to wonder for much longer if everyone made it out in one piece. My newest concern is if they have more than one safe house then how will any of them know where the others will be?

Tate nods, “once we check in we’ll know where to go. It’ll make sense once we’re home. They’re all probably already there waiting for us, so stop distracting me.” He grins, giving my ass a sharp slap of encouragement.

He positions himself behind me on my bike, content as ever with his hands planted securely around my waist. Electricity runs up my spine originating at his fingertips and ending in a heat rash that diffuses up my neck, over my shoulders, and across the front of my chest.

Just as he instructed, I make our exit from the garage loud and visible. We stick to main roads, not bothering with backstreets or tunnels, and when we pull up to their familiar little house I can’t scramble off the bike fast enough.

All of their cars are in the driveway, the lights are on, the TV is playing, and someone is obviously cooking something delicious in the kitchen. But the men on the couch and in the kitchen are not mine.

I don’t hesitate for a second. A dagger is flying towards the back of the intruder’s head as silently as a hummingbird. Tate throws a blade of his own, knocking mine out of the lethal path to the guy’s skull.

Tate binds my hands behind my back, using the knot to tug me close to his chest. Once the door is shut securely behind him he whispers lowly in my ear, “easy, pet. They’re part of the crew.”

He spins me to face him and walks me backwards further into the house. “Ace has them housesitting as decoys in case people come looking for us here. They’ve been here since the morning after the centennial.”

I’m so focused on him that I barely register his fingers deftly undoing the binds around my wrists. He tucks the ribbons back into his pocket and peels his eyes away from me to check his phone. He makes no attempt to shield his text conversation with Ace from me.

On his screen I can see he sent a text to Ace as we were in transit here notifying him that we made it home, to which Ace replied “I’m shocked.”

“Ready?” Tate asks me with darkening eyes and a smoky smooth voice.

“For what?” I ask, my frustration growing when he cocks his head to the side and grins at me like an idiot.

“To go to the safe house?” He says, like it’s a crime to have misunderstood.

“Don’t you need to know which safe house to go to?” I’m exasperated.

“He already told me. Shocked. Safe house on corner of Kennelly. If he had said ‘that’s good news’ we’d be going to the one in New Zealand, if he had said ‘brave’ we’d be heading to the villa in Brazil, if he had said —“

“If he had said idiot —“ I mock him with my best deep, Tate voice impression but the asshole doesn’t miss a beat.

“Then we’d be going to Iceland, dragon isles of Talknafjordur.”

I’m so stunned that my mouth actually drops open while I attempt to do some mental math on how serious he is right now. “There’s no way that’s a real place.”

His face breaks into a wide, shit eating grin. “Population roughly 300, located in the Westfjords,” he says matter of factly before his voice softens and his glacier blue eyes look to me in earnest. “It’s a very mountainous region with natural hot springs, you’d probably actually really love it there. We’ll take you one day.” He takes my hand in his and sweeps his thumb nervously back and forth across the back of my hand.

He’s testing me. Subtly trying to gauge how long I might stick around after all is said and done. I’ve grown impossibly close with Tate, my bond with Ace pulls me in closer by the day, and my love for Hunter is a torch that I will always carry.

They may want me right now, but we haven’t actually sat down and had a conversation about what is going on with all of us and how any of this works or doesn’t work. What I won’t do is come between any of the guys. I’d rather walk away and lick my wounds than be responsible for the crumbling of their pack.

I ride once more in Tate’s arms on the way to the safe house. His speed slows down as we enter downtown, careful to avoid planes, helicopters, and ever rising skyscrapers. With practiced precision he brings us down on a helipad atop one of the tallest buildings in the city.

I’m whisked promptly into an elevator that sits inside a small lounge on the roof. Only then do we let our shadows drop.

I don’t realize I’m smirking until Tate points it out.

“Impressive, no?”

My smile grows unabashedly, “I mean, anything is impressive when compared to the shack you guys normally occupy. No offense,” I add quickly when I catch Tate’s expression of shocked amusement.

“You’re cute,” not only does he regurgitate my earlier words but he boops me on the nose to add insult to injury. “That house serves a very specific purpose. If our enemies see us living in a small, modest house they’ll automatically underestimate us every time. If they knew of the other properties we own, well…” he clicks his tongue and trails off as the elevator engages and drops us down to the penthouse suite.

With every passing breath I grow a little more anxious, a little more restless to be reunited with everyone safely.

Being the perceptive bastard he is, Tate kneads my shoulders and arms, planting reassuring kisses on my neck as he leisurely works the tension out of my muscles. “Of all the places we own, this may be the closest to truly being home.”

A warm electrical current vibrates through me and stays with me for the duration of our elevator ride. At last the elevator stops and the doors open to a truly jaw-dropping penthouse apartment.

The cool tile floors and blue walls are offset by warm lighting and fur rugs. It’s the definition of modern luxury, but with the trimmings and furnishings of a cozy cabin lodge.

It exudes Ace’s control and Tate’s quiet modesty, it’s warm like Dean and cool like Eli, all brought together with Hunter’s humble homey touches.

I feel them before I see them. Hunter and Ace. The former races to the elevator doors and crushes me to him, lifting me up and carrying me to the large sunken living room area. He’s reluctant to let me go, but thinks better of it as Ace’s wolf grows impatient with the need to hold me himself.

Tate joins Eli at the kitchen bar and strikes up trivial conversation like he just returned from the grocery store and not a high risk break-in.

Ace practically throws himself at me, holding me possessively in his embrace and kissing me like he hasn’t seen me in days. It feels better than I’d like to admit to be in his arms, electricity crackles throughout my entire body.

I give in to the sense of security he offers me, the feeling magnified when I feel Hunter press against my back and run his hands up and down my arms. Relief floods through me, growing warmer by the second.

Ace’s kisses slow down but his grip never loosens. Hunter keeps me caged between them like I’m a flight risk causing a nagging itch to start taking over. A little voice saying that something isn’t right.

I pull back from Ace as far as he and Hunter will allow me when the sound of glass shattering echoes through the room.

“Tate, you good?” I call out to him but he shadows immediately despite the protests of Eli.

Ace and Hunter tense up around me and that awful nagging feeling begins to sour in my stomach. “What’s going on?” I implore them to answer me honestly.

Ace looks me square in the eye like he’s debating between answering me like an equal and softening the blow to placate the little lady.

“Dean hasn’t checked in. He was last seen by Hunter right behind you and Tate, but he hasn’t made any kind of contact. He’s missing .”