9. Chapter 9
Scalding dragon breath at the back of Daxton’s mind burned his thoughts away to one word.
Izzy.
“I have to go,” he said to Percy over the phone as he strode out of the hospital waiting room into the hallway.
“Excuse me?” Percy snapped. “You can’t just dismiss me like you did Johnathan. This is my territory, Daxton. If you think I’ll let a chief-in-training parade around doing whatever…”
Daxton held the device out to Sarah as she followed him toward Izzy’s room.
“What can I do?” she mouthed, eyebrows knitting together.
“Get him off my ass and off the line,” he muttered. He had already given a wing and a leg to escape Percy’s scrutiny. He couldn’t stop Percy from telling Keiran, but if he couldn’t keep his Centurion from learning about Izzy, he would accept the repercussions of undermining Percy’s authority.
Sarah took the phone as he opened the door to Izzy’s room. His heart froze. Sarah gasped beside him.
Izzy was gone.
“Sorry, Chief Wilgon,” Sarah said into the phone. “An emergency has come up. Daxton will call you back shortly.”
A sharp and undeniable primal instinct ripped through him; his nostrils flared as he transformed into a predator in human form, preparing to stalk what he needed to keep close—the woman who calmed him.
Amplifying his Insight, he allowed every spirit energy into his mind.
The avalanche of input splintered through his head, disorienting him.
He closed his eyes, took a few steady breaths, and pushed through the signature of every human in the hospital until he fixated on Izzy. Purity, guilt, and traces of metal.
With Sarah on his heels, he tracked Izzy’s energy through a fire escape door.
Using his dragon strength to fortify himself, he vaulted the stair rail and fell three stories.
He landed on the inside of the bottom railing, muscles straining from the impact.
He grunted and barged through the door to his left.
The taste of her slid across the tip of his tongue.
Izzy was close, but running.
He rounded the next corner, her metallic purity pricking the hair on his arms. Izzy streaked out of the automatic glass exit doors and shot a glance over her shoulder, blond hair streaming across her pallid face.
He tasted her exhilaration at being chased, but her large eyes glanced at him as she held her hand over her heart.
A heaviness fell over him, and her name caught in his throat. She was scared. And why shouldn’t she be? His protective instincts trembled in his limbs, his dragon nearly taking him over as he sprinted outside.
Izzy climbed onto the rear of a sleek black sport motorcycle. With her arms locked around the driver’s waist, she pressed her face into the person’s leather-biker jacket.
I need her. Heat coursed down his neck as his dragon clawed for control. Daxton just barely held the beast down with the fear of causing a scene. Tension grew in his stomach at the idea of losing her calming presence.
The driver looked in his direction as Daxton ran—an orange-tinted helmet visor blocking Daxton’s view.
Daxton’s Insight picked up a whiff of saccharine-sweet spirit energy from the driver—Simon.
With a flick of a wrist, Simon peeled away, the tires squealing louder than the roar of the engine.
Out of breath, Daxton buried his nose against his forearm and gagged back a cough from the assaulting exhaust and melted rubber fumes.
His dragon rammed against his skin, wanting to take Simon to the tallest mountain for a solo ride down it. The heat of the shift pressed against him until he felt like the sun was painfully roasting him from the inside out.
“Daxton,” Sarah’s panicked voice shot through to him.
“Fuck,” he shouted and paced away from curious eyes. It took a trip down the sidewalk before he had a hold of himself enough to return to Sarah.
“What…is…she doing?” Sarah’s words sounded more like short exhalations, as she was still recovering from chasing after them.
Hell if I know. Daxton grabbed his cell phone from her hand and dialed a number.
“Special Agent Raz Malone,” said the male voice on the other end.
“I’m calling in that favor you owe me,” Daxton said. “I need you to get any information you can on a Kawasaki Ninja with Tennessee license plate D-M-N-K-L-R.”
Twenty-four hours later, Daxton snarled curses and paced the posh carpet of his hotel room, waiting for Raz to come through.
Izzy’s apartment had been unsurprisingly vacant with no evidence of where she’d gone.
The first time Daxton had called, Raz had nothing to help him find her.
The motorcycle was registered to a deceased person, and the dealership had gone out of business.
Daxton had recalled the unique quiet exhaust pipes and relayed the information, hoping it’d help.
Izzy’s scared face haunted his mind and riled his dragon. He wanted to protect this woman, and to do that, he needed to find her. Daxton’s phone rang. He fumbled it in his hands before answering.
“That detail about the modified exhaust has potential,” Raz said. “There are only a few mufflers like the one you described sold online to Tennessee.”
“Do you have the addresses for the people who bought them?”
Daxton scribbled down the information Raz relayed, including the owners of each location.
“Why do you need this?” Raz asked.
“Who bought you an aircraft?”
Raz chuckled. “Touché. You brought a legit smile to all our faces. I’ll drop it.”
The warmth of camaraderie swept over Daxton, and his mouth twitched. “Thank you.”
Daxton searched each location on his phone. Izzy probably wanted to stay hidden from the world like the dragons did, so he circled the address of the most secluded property.
A half hour later, he drove on a road through the Great Smoky Mountains in a “borrowed” automobile.
Although Sarah had wanted to know why Izzy ran as much as he did, he’d sent her back to Dyamur Territory.
His people needed their primary Healer. He wouldn’t put lives at risk just to keep her level head with him.
The chiming of his phone made him sigh.
“Why did you steal Johnathan’s SUV?” Percy’s voice boomed over the vehicle’s speakers. At least Johnathan had learned his lesson and brought a larger vehicle.
“I wanted to do some sightseeing…alone.” Daxton followed the GPS and turned right onto another highway lined with evergreens.
“This is a blatant undermining of my authority. I’m nullifying your Right of Passage.”
Shit. “One chief to another, give me time. I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Out of my hair? I have little of that left. My men are on their way now to forcibly remove you from my territory.” Percy ended the call.
Cursing, Daxton swerved. Tires screeched as he made his next turn. He set his watch on a countdown, and panic squeezed his throat. If he was lucky, he had a few hours before Percy’s men found him. He’d have to be luckier to find her first. The leather of the steering wheel protested under his grip.
He tried countless times to track her through their connection, but he always hit an impenetrable barrier. Whatever she had done to block him, it was a solid wall he wanted to claw through.
“Your destination is on the left,” the GPS announced.
He squinted to find an opening within the tree line. At the base of the mountain, tucked behind the foliage, lay a small two-car garage.
Not wanting to alert anyone to his presence, he drove past it and parked on the gravel shoulder. He grabbed the Centurion journal Izzy had given back to him, shoved it in his pocket, and got out.
Making his way to the garage, his steps sprang over the spongy needles littering the ground.
He used his Insight to detect spirit energies.
No one was around. He crept forward to a window on the side.
Through a thin layer of dust, he made out the shape of a black luxury sedan. To the left, a parked motorcycle.
A familiar Kawasaki Ninja.
His scales twitched, sending an itchy sensation across his body. Ever since she’d run away, his dragon tore at his brain, wanting her, creating a dull ache in his head. The feeling was tolerable near her, but insufferable away from her. The link stretched taut between them.
Following the structure to the corner, he searched for tracks or disturbances in the surrounding foliage.
Circling to the back, he spotted a jagged gap between some shrubs.
That’s an interesting path. At the opening, a thin and well-worn trail, like what a deer would make, continued into the coniferous forest, rising up the mountain.
Or maybe it’s the path of another creature, injured and frightened.
Under the shadows of the trees, he walked the trail, which widened and became steeper as he traveled farther into the woods. On his next deep breath, he took in the fresh mountain air. Traces of exhaust lingered.
He paused. The scent made little sense.
Tracks appeared in the mud from a grooved treading, singular tire, a dirt bike.
A common vehicle found in dragon territories for the terrain.
He smiled as his dragon prowled near the surface of his mind.
He jogged, laboring as he followed the tracks uphill.
They’d probably ditched the motorcycle for a more convenient form of transportation up to a hidden location.
The excitement from the chase laced his bones.
As he followed the zigzagging path, his leg muscles protested, sweat dripped into his eyes, and his lungs burned for air. Reaching semiflat ground, the sight before him made him pause.
An imaginative architect must have built the two-story cabin perched on the mountainside.
The massive stone tower dominating the back center matched the tone but seemed out of place.
For as secluded as the house was, the solar panels on the roof probably helped with energy, and the conifers surrounding it offered wind protection.
Tall, wide windows added an extra touch.
He took a deep breath and opened his Insight.