Chapter 19 #2
I take a few unsteady breaths, clenching and unclenching my fists as I fight back my shift. Chasing a scent trail, probably only as far as the car park, isn’t what I need to be doing. Not to mention how many humans I’d scare if they saw a tiger in the stairwell.
No, I need to search for clues like Ethan said, something that could give us a lead we haven’t had before. I’m a fucking professional, and Bryn needs me to do my job.
“It’s the same story in the other bedroom,” Ethan says when he joins me.
“There’s a fresh scent of another dragon in Bryn’s room—similar enough to Bryn to probably be a family member—along with Ember’s and two other fae.
My guess is they somehow took Milo and the other dragon while they were asleep.
Injecting them with a fast-acting sedative, maybe. ”
I run a hand over the bristles of my hair, my mind racing. “It’s his sister’s scent. She must have been staying. Shit, Ethan.”
He folds his arms across his chest, a fierce scowl on this face. “So they’ve taken all three siblings, the bastards. Could this be retaliation for us arresting Lance?”
“Unless he’s still the one pulling the strings.”
It’s a desperate move either way. They’ve left their scent everywhere, and who knows what other physical evidence. Surely there’s something here that will help us find our dragons. There has to be.
“I certainly wouldn’t put it past that slimy dickhead,” he growls. “The more important question is, where have they taken them?”
“You don’t think…? No, there’s no blood.” I look around more closely in case I missed some, my heart in my throat.
He grips my nape. “I’m sure they’re alive, wherever they are.”
I nod, hanging onto his certainty like a lifeline as I begin to search the room more carefully. Would Bryn set fire to his own flat? It seems unlikely, even in self-defence. Did the fae start the fire? It’s certainly possible.
Ethan heads back into the hall to make a few calls.
The entire team dropped what they were doing and hurried over, so he sends Jet to search for a scent trail in the car park and nearby streets, Kit to check all CCTV in the vicinity, and Ayo to question people outside in case someone witnessed what happened.
Skye and Cal will continue to ensure all the residents make it out safely, just in case, but I barely pay attention to the conversations, too focused on tracing the mess of footprints in the ash.
One person had bare feet—likely Bryn, because if I ignore mine and Ethan’s footprints, the others are noticeably smaller.
I trace Bryn’s steps as best I can until I spot something on the floor near the French doors.
Could be writing? I quickly take a photo then crouch to get a closer look, craning my neck until the letters make sense.
ALIVE UNDER
I inhale sharply, regretting it immediately when smoke fills my lungs and I end up coughing into my elbow. ‘Alive’ is good, but that’s obvious because he somehow left this message. So why write it? ‘Under’ is the word of most interest. Under what? There are more smudges, too indistinct to make out.
“Found something?” Ethan asks as he rejoins me.
When I step back and show him, he scowls. “Under where?”
I rub the back of my head as I stare at the messy writing, trying to clear my mind enough to think straight. My head snaps up, my tiger snarling. “The warehouse.”
Ethan growls. “We searched every inch of that place last night. No way we’d have missed a hidden door or access hatch.”
“We must have. I know we dismissed the idea of an underground tunnel, but what about a basement?”
Modern British warehouses are invariably built on solid concrete slabs, but there’s an exception to every rule and a basement level would explain everything.
“Assuming it’s glamoured, Bryn would have still seen the entrance, so where has he never been?”
My stomach clenches when I realise our mistake. “He didn’t go into the ladies’ toilets last night, and Ember and Aire both came out of there. Bollocks. Hang on, let me make a call.”
I stand and pull out my Dhiren phone, ignore the eighty-seven messages on the group chat with the cat shifters from work, and call Felicia. It rings twice before she answers.
“Why haven’t you been replying to messages, ya big twat? This is not a day to ghost us!”
I put on Dhiren’s Cockney accent because even though I’m no longer undercover, I don’t have time for explanations. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a terrible friend. Listen, can you describe the women’s loos at work?”
There’s a pause. “What for, ya fucking weirdo?”
“I promise I’ll explain later. Please, Felicia.”
“You’d better.” She sighs. “They’re fairly standard.
Four cubicles, four sinks with dodgy taps, soap dispensers that are always broken or empty, two mirrors above the sinks, and dodgy pink tile from far too many decades ago.
The paper towels have usually run out, and there’s a storage cupboard with mops and shit. ”
My heart starts pounding, my grip tight on my phone. That has to be it.
“Thanks.” I hang up before she can question me, my heart racing. “The storage cupboard,” I whisper to Ethan as heavy footsteps approach from the landing, the scent of humans reaching my nose.
He nods sharply. “Agreed. Let’s gather everyone for an update and if that’s still our best lead, we’ll gear up.”
“Fire brigade! Vacate the premises,” a firefighter calls out as two of them appear at the front door.
Both are human, so I carefully step on Bryn’s message and smear it with my shoe. We’ve found out all we can here.