Chapter 16 Jackson #2
With a force of will I didn’t even realize I had, I shook my head. “No. I’ll do it. But I’ll remember this. Don’t you think for a minute I won’t. You’ll pay. Maybe not me, but one day, someone is gonna make you pay.”
He rolled his eyes, and waved a hand at me. “Get the fuck out of here and bring me that little bitch’s body. Go on.”
Unable to do anything else, I obeyed, shifting to my dragon form.
I rose up several heads taller than the drakes.
The other dragons shrank back instinctively as I stretched my wings wide, my jet-black body glinting in the sunlight.
I leaned forward and let out an ear-piercing shriek of rage. They all flinched, including Joseph.
I leaped into the air. Pumping my wings hard, I rose higher and higher until I glided among the clouds, lost in thought.
Angling west, I headed for my cabin. I couldn’t go home right now.
The weight of this secret was too much. They’d all know something was wrong, and I didn’t have the strength to lie.
As frigid as the air up high was, it did nothing to soothe the burning heat of my shame and anger.
I’d thought stealing a car was bad. Kidnapping?
Not just that, but kidnapping a child I knew?
How could I do that? How could I steal Bryn?
Then there was the worst part. They wanted her dead. They wanted me to kill her.
I shrieked into the sky and breathed a gout of flame, a streak of fire thirty feet long drawing an orange line against the clouds. I flew through it, letting the heat flash across my sides.
By the time I landed at my cabin and stepped inside, every ounce of energy had drained from my body.
Flopping onto my back on the couch, I spent several hours zoned out in a daze, unsure how I’d gotten into this, and unsure how I would ever get out of it.
There was so much on the line, and too many variables to navigate by myself.
If I didn’t do what Joseph wanted, he’d kill my sister and shatter one of the last glimmers of hope our people had.
Mom would die of heartbreak, and winged dragons would slip from history.
If I did do what he wanted, I’d never be able to live with myself.
Hell, I knew deep down that I couldn’t do what he wanted.
I kept seeing Bryn’s smiling face in my mind.
The faint spray of freckles on her nose, her dark red hair, and the brown eyes that matched Christian’s. No. That was out of the question.
“Fuck!” I screamed at last, leaping from the sofa. Grabbing a ceramic coaster from an end table, I hurled it across the room.
It shattered against the wall, sending a fan of broken glass in all directions.
The panic that had been building from the moment Joseph told me his plan now overwhelmed me.
How did I get out of this? Even if I went so far as to kill myself rather than do his bidding, he’d still end up killing my sister and hiring one of his goons to take Bryn. This was on me, and me alone.
In another fit of rage, I slammed my fist into the wall. My shifter-hardened bones stayed intact, but an indentation of my knuckles remained on the wood.
Alone. I’m all alone. I have to figure this out by myself, like always.
The last few years, I’d done exactly that, shouldering the load and taking all the pressure.
I’d done it because I thought it was what my father would have wanted, yet what had that gained me?
Winged dragons continued to vanish, and my sister had been kidnapped.
Going it alone had gotten me nowhere thus far. Who did I turn to?
Christian was out. I couldn’t tell him what was going on. At least I couldn’t. Joseph said he had eyes and ears everywhere. Mom? She wasn’t in the mental state to help. And, yet again, Joseph said he had spies and ways of hearing in any of the places I might typically turn for help.
Pacing the cabin, I walked through the kitchen, clenching and unclenching my fists, racking my brain for a way out.
As I did, I glanced over at the sink and froze, nearly stumbling.
Unwashed plates. Plates that had been scraped clean after the last meal that had been eaten here.
As I stared down at them, Shyanne’s face flashed across my mind.
Gripping the edge of the sink, I kept looking at the plates.
Joseph didn’t know about my relationship with her.
He’d never have a way of watching her or even know who the hell she was.
If I asked, Shyanne would help. Even after my short time with her, I knew what her answer would be, but could I drag her into more trouble?
How could I live with myself if I kept turning her world upside down?
“What choice do I have?” I whispered to myself.
After a few minutes of hesitation, I stalked outside and slammed the door behind me.
I shifted, wings appearing, scooping air as I rose.
Flying as high as I could to rise above the clouds, I urged my body forward, pushing myself to my limits, using all the speed I could muster.
I needed to get to her before I could talk myself out of it.
Landing on the roof of an abandoned building a few blocks from her house, I descended the rickety and rusted fire escape on the side.
The residence loomed large as I walked toward it.
My heart thundered, and sour, nervous sweat sheened my palms and lower back.
A moment before I put my foot on the first step of the porch, I hesitated, sure that this was the wrong choice, but then I pushed on.
I knocked on the door before I could stop myself.
Breath coming in quick bursts, I listened as footsteps approached and the deadbolt was thrown back.
When the door finally swung inward, I nearly sobbed in relief at the sight of Shyanne.
A pleased smile flashed over her lips, but she must have seen the distress on my face, because a worried frown took its place.
“Jackson?” She stepped out onto the porch and put a hand on my arm. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“I need you,” I said, my voice tight and strained with emotion. “I need help.”