Escaping Death

Solana

Tate and I soar high enough above the clouds that we don’t need to conceal ourselves rewarding me with a glimpse of his dragon. His dragon features match his human ones. His scales and his wings are as black as his hair, his eyes the same icy blue, and his body slim and toned. My coloring is similar to his except he is all black, as dark as the ink decorating his body, and I have a purple line running down my spine that ends at the tip of my tail.

Tate glides silently through the sky, barely disturbing the air around him, like an actual shadow flying through the clouds.

Though we’re matched for size, he’s faster than I am. My brother, Rhys, is the one who received our mother’s increased speed. It makes him a formidable guardian to my sister, Calla, the next queen of Twilight Grove — not that my mother is stepping down any time soon.

No. I inherited the shadows and, like my dads, I can control my fire and the heat of it much more than my mom and uncle can. I can actually control quite a few things, but I don’t make those known. Those cards I play close to my chest.

Suddenly, Tate drops down through the clouds like a stone in water, perching himself atop the peak of a small mountain below us. I nose dive down to follow him, coming to a stand next to him back in our human forms.

“You see that tall, black and silver tower with the logo for Lobo Tech?” He points towards a skyscraper in the city off in the distance.

I nod yes. It’s a prominent building, one of the tallest that I can see.

“We need to break into their server room. It’s on the third floor accessible by authorized personnel only.”

“What do you need in there?”

He raises a curious brow, surprised I think by my question. “I spend more time in the shadows than in the light, Sunshine. You sure you want to know?”

His honesty catches me off guard. I expected him to deflect or give me some non-answer like Ace, but something tells me that if I say yes then he’d tell me everything. He won’t coddle me.

“I’m no stranger to the dark, Tate. The flower I’m named for thrives in the shadows.”

Tate’s pupils dilate before he averts his eyes and looks out into the distance. “Later, perhaps. We need to get going, their offices will only get busier.”

He spreads his wings and holds his arms out in front of him. “It would be easiest if I carried you, or you can fly to the alley on the south side of the building and meet me there.”

An uninhibited laugh bubbles up from within me. “You sound like Eli. You trying to get your hands on me, too?” I tease him, though it’s not 100% something I’d be opposed to.

Compared to the others Tate is the smallest of the guys. He’s a fraction shorter than the rest, slimmer and trimmer. It’s probably how he can move the way he does, quickly and silently, truly undetected. The others are brawny, their muscles carved from years of conditioning and use. Tate just is muscle, he’s lean and powerful.

But it’s those arctic blue eyes of his that draw my attention time and time again. Them and his tattoos. I can see them escaping the collar of his shirt and dripping down his wrists flirting with his hands. I wonder what the rest of his body looks like, how much of him is decorated and how much is left untouched, unclaimed.

“For the record, Sunshine, I don’t need to play games to get you into my arms. In this particular instance, carrying you enables us to see each other while shadowed.”

That is true, to an extent. As long as we’re within 2 or 3 feet of each other I’d be able to see him, but with a ten foot wingspan that’s hard to do in the air.

Without giving it much thought I step closer to Tate, put my arms around his neck, and jump into his arms wrapping my legs around his waist. Thankfully he doesn’t make any comments about being in his arms or pressed up against him. I shadow myself shortly after he rises into the air and like he said would happen, I can still see him even though we’re both concealed.

I cling to him like I’m afraid to fall, which is a ridiculous notion. The dragoness side of me is not afraid of heights or falling, but the lupine side of me clutches onto him needing to be back on solid ground. My wolf grounds herself in his scent of leather and dark temptations, drinking in his heavenly scent until Tate lands in an alley next to the tower we need to break into.

“You can let go now,” he chuckles, the rumble from his laughter resonating through my body. “We’re here.”

I peel myself off of him, reluctant to back away from his warmth. Dragons are always drawn to heat. Fire craves fire. And Tate is filled with it, red hot and raging.

He spares me any blushes by biting his tongue. Instead of making any comments, he takes me by the hand and we slip into the shadows again and head for the main doors of the tower.

It was a smooth journey to the third floor, but once we got up there we were faced with two guards, one on either end of the hall. They scented us immediately, their nostrils flaring and hands reaching for the guns at their sides.

“Permission to kill?” I whisper in Tate’s ear over his shoulder.

“As great a pleasure as it would be to watch that, no bodies today.”

Tate steps away from me disappearing into the shadows even to me. The guard at the far end goes down first, then when the other one approaches he follows suit. Only then does Tate uncover himself.

He ties the guards’ hands and legs together with meticulous care, the knots practically form themselves.

“You have a way with rope,” I tease him as he finishes his binds.

He checks over his handiwork before stalking over towards me. “We all have our kinks,” he grins wickedly and slips a key card that he swiped off of one of the guards into my hand.

“Ladies first, Sunshine. Tick-tock.”

Once we’re inside Tate doesn’t waste any time. He searches through the stacks of servers and routers, fingering through the bundles of cables strung about like jungle vines.

When he finds what he’s looking for he slips his laptop out of his bag along with a few cables and clips. I sit down opposite him and watch with rapt fascination as he sets to his task.

Tate has a quiet, hidden quality about him. He seems perfectly content, working as if I’m not even here. I like that about him. He’s comfortable where others would be uncomfortable.

After several minutes have passed, my curiosity about him reaches maximum capacity and I’m itching to crack the enigma that is Tate.

“Do you do a lot of these kinds of jobs?” I begin with something benign, easing into the beginning of my questioning.

“When required,” he shrugs, eyes trained on his computer as he answers. “I don’t keep track.”

I find that hard to believe. He dresses exclusively in dress shirts which are perfectly pressed every morning, he is constantly on his phone or computer poring over data. Not only am I sure he keeps track of everything, I think it very well might be his job to do so.

“Do you always work alone?”

“Depends on the situation, depends on what’s required. But, for the most part unless we’re meeting a new client I usually handle these kinds of things on my own.”

“Because you can shadow or because you don’t like working with the guys?”

Tate’s brows knit together like I’ve said something insulting, “I never said I don’t like working with them. They’re practically family, and Dean actually is. I just don’t need them for everything. I can do my job on my own.”

“Needing people and wanting people are two completely separate things,” I mutter under my breath. If Tate hears me then he doesn’t react, not even to refute what I’ve said.

“Earlier you said you’d tell me what it is we’re doing here.” At this he looks up at me but only briefly.

“Oh so it’s ‘we’ now?” Tate teases me with a low chuckle.

My eyes roll with exasperation, prepared to abandon the conversation and let him finish so we can go home.

No. Not home. Just back to their house. Home abandoned me years ago and now I’m left with places and spaces devoid of warmth, or love, or a true sense of safety and security.

“Lobo Tech is owned by two alphas, cousins by blood,” Tate says, breaking me of my thoughts. “They’ve been trafficking she-wolves and human females, selling them to the highest bidder, and laundering the profits through their off-shore shell companies. I’m rerouting all of that money elsewhere, and altering the drop off locations of the girls they have to well-known safe-houses where authorities will be waiting to arrest those involved and protect the survivors.”

Each quadrant of the server room has its own dedicated air conditioner, the room is low 60s at best. But suddenly a burning heat slowly spreads up from my chest to my neck like a rash. There’s a ringing in my ears that is pulsing louder and louder with each beat of my heart.

“A hybrid like her? She’ll be worth millions.”

The room feels too small and too large at the same time. I’m spiraling, disoriented, the ringing persists.

“I might need to do a quality check, make sure our buyers are getting their money’s worth.”

“Keep your fucking hands off of me.”

There’s a muffled voice calling out through the haze, but it’s like listening to someone speaking underwater.

“Leave her. If she lives I know a few buyers who need new punching bags.”

“Sol!” The voice is clearer now, calling out my name but I don’t know who it is or where I am. I’m alone, and I’m confused. I promised myself I’d never be this vulnerable again, I’d be stronger, faster, smarter. But here I am, right back where I started.

“Keep your fucking hands off of me,” I claw and kick at the body grabbing me, pulling me towards them.

“Woah, Solana. It’s Tate, you’re safe.” Tate does his best to purr for me to help me relax, I’m curious to know where he learned that it’s a comfort to us she-wolves. Even more curious is how he became so good at it.

Shame and embarrassment stain my face red, my first instinct is to run — so that’s what I do. I pull away from Tate, freeing myself from his arms, then I slip into the shadows and make a break for the door. I throw open the door needing to get away from here as fast as I can but I’m stopped dead in my tracks before I can cross the threshold.

Two more guards are out in the hallway trying to untie the ropes that Tate used to secure the first two guards. One of the new guards radios to whoever is on the other end of that signal to lock down the building and sweep each and every floor, starting with this one.

The two guards give up on the ropes and charge over towards the door in front of me that is slowly closing.

I have to make a decision – run like hell, or crawl back inside and hide until they leave.

Two strong hands rip my choices apart, dragging me back into the server room. One hand snakes around my waist and the other claps over my mouth, muffling my curses and protestations.

The smell of leather and mystery help me relax. It’s just Tate. But how did he find me?

Tate backs us up, sandwiching us in a nook between a wall and a column. The two guards rush through the server room, hurriedly checking for whoever knocked out the guards.

I don't need Tate’s protection, I’ve had to hide on countless occasions and I’ve never been caught. So I can’t explain what compels me to allow him to maintain his hold of me.

Maybe it's his strength, maybe it's his warmth, but regardless of the cause I give in and relax against him, allowing him to take care of me…to protect me. I just hope this time is different than four years ago when I last trusted someone to protect me. This time I hope I don’t get burned.