Imre: Drago Knights MC (Mating Fever) (5 page)

H
e left
Aranka at the crypt to follow up with Pim, but he didn’t leave her without a mission. She had access to all of the software to ferret out Pim’s financial records and a hack into the Loup Marais traffic cams and police database.

Imre returned to the last place Pim had parked his boat, and no surprise, it wasn’t there. But what was there was blood. It wasn’t a lot, but enough that he could smell it.

The quickest route to finding Pim would be to take to the skies, but that wasn’t an option in the daylight.

He also smelled wolves. He could track them more easily on the ground than the gold in Pim’s paint job. So he followed the scent.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was Pim with the meet time. Eight at Devil’s Due, a bar that doubled as the Drago Knights MC clubhouse.

He wondered just how deep this chapter of the Knights had been compromised. He remembered what he’d said not too long ago when they’d been fighting ghouls—how horrible it would be to have to put down one of your own.

Imre had the feeling he was going to know exactly what that was like.

He followed the scent of the wolves until they became the scents of men. It was no surprise that the scent led him deep into the swamp, into the opposite direction he and Aranka had taken the night before.

The trail led him to a small community of tiny cabins all raised up on docks. From the smell of it, they didn’t seem to be the werewolves associated with the Headhunters, but the
loup garou,
something all together different
.

An old woman came out of the nicest hut and she looked right at him. He should’ve known she’d be able to smell him, too.

She wore a dress that had probably been sewn when he’d been hatched. Her hair was long and white, flowing free down her back. Various charms and tiny bottles had been woven into the mass, and she had the triplicate moon goddess tattooed on her forehead in blue ink. She motioned for him to come to her.

A large male exited the house behind her and he lifted his head to scent the air. When Imre’s scent hit him, the Change came over him immediately and he leapt toward Imre.

The old woman grabbed the wolf by the scruff and floored him, her bare foot on his throat until he yelped. She never changed form.

She motioned to him again.

Come.

He could hear her inside his head. This was old school hoodoo and Imre knew to give it, and the woman the proper respect. He’d never had trouble with humility. He wasn’t an Alpha and had nothing to prove.

At least not to these people.

This wasn’t his realm. He was a guest in theirs. So he bowed his head and held out his hands, palms up, and approached as the old woman had bidden him.

People emerged from their cabins, families with children, and natural wolves moved among them. Some bared their teeth at him, some growled, some looked on obviously unsure of what his presence could mean for them.

The
loup garou
kept to themselves. They did no harm and hoped for the same from the rest of the world. They were a peaceful people.

He could only imagine what the Headhunters presence here could mean for them. Those in the town who knew their secrets could turn on them and they’d be hunted to the very brink of extinction. Imre knew exactly what that was like.

A small voice asked from beside him, “Can I see your tail?”

He looked down to see a child with the biggest eyes he’d ever seen. Imre couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl, with its muddy fingers and feet, and close cropped hair.

“That’s not how it works, kiddo.”

“So you
are
a dragon!”
This was said with wonder.

“Can I see your wings?”

“That I can do, but maybe after I talk with the grandmother there.” He was more than happy to indulge the child. That’s how they learned about other kinds of people, other kinds of creatures. Exposure. Talking. Given permission to notice differences, which in turn gave them permission to notice sameness, building empathy. Imre was one-hundred percent for that. But he wasn’t sure that showing his wings was the best idea at this point—they could take that as an act of aggression and he had no desire to hurt these people, or be hurt by them.

“You promise?”

“If your people will permit it. Dragons are big. We breathe fire. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Fire?” Those already impossibly large eyes got wider. “I wanna see.”

Part of him wondered if he and Aranka were to have children if they might be much like this child, so full of wonder and curiosity. It hit him in the chest like a punch.

“Your mother is probably worried sick.”

“Ain’t got one of those. She died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” A little hand pushed into his. “That’s why don’t no one care I’m talking to you. I’m an outsider now. Ain’t got no kin left. But the grandmother feeds me, sometimes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Cezille.”

“That’s very pretty, Cezille.”

“What’s your name?”

“Imre.”

“That’s pretty, too.” Her hand tightened on his. “The grandmother’s name is Fanchon.”

Fanchon released the wolf she’d held under her foot and he backed away, head bowed in subservience, but he watched Imre’s every move.

“Our Cezille has already made the introductions, so why don’t you come into my home?”

He kept his head bowed. “It’s my honor.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, but not with any rancor.

She opened the door to the tiny cottage and the scents of magick and fresh herbs washed over him. “Coffee?”

“Chicory?”

“Of course.” She set a steaming mug at the small, obviously hand-carved table.

He could see dragons winding up the legs. “You know us, then?”

“Oh, yes. When I was a young girl, I knew a dragon named Fabian. I do believe he’s one of your Drago Knights? This was a gift from him.”

“Fabian is my brother, if indeed we speak of the same dragon.”

She smiled softly. “I thought so. Your scent is similar. We smelled you in the swamp last night and tried to find you. I was worried the abominations had caught you first.”

He took a sip of the chicory coffee.

“What can you tell me about the abominations?”

“I do hope that’s why you’re here? When the Headhunters moved in a year ago—”

“A year?” Pim had only reported their presence and interference a week ago.

“Yes. They’ve taken over that bar, Devil’s Due. They’ve taken over Loup Marais. I hope you and that pretty girl aren’t staying anywhere in town.”

“No. We’re safe.”

“Good.” She nodded. “The Headhunters have an Alpha. The former hunter—Peter Breslin.”

“I knew it. Is he here?”

“No, he’s not here. After he Turned all of the club, he left.”

Dread filled him. “Are they immune to silver?”

Fanchon smiled, baring her fangs. “No. Nor are they immune to the bite of a true
loup garou
. But there are more of them than what we can manage. Our intelligence tells us all of their chapters have been Turned. If we were to make a move against them, it would start a war and we’d lose the safety we’ve found here.”

“I understand.” He really did. “And we can’t fight a war on two fronts. Breslin, we think, is behind an epidemic of ghoul attacks and he may have taken the King of the Orlaith hostage.”

“Oh, that’s who your lady is.” She nodded. “There’s gold in this swamp that wasn’t here before.”

“So what happened with Pim?”

“Who?”

“The guy on the houseboat. I followed the scent of blood and wolf from there.”

“My men were looking for him as well, but all they found was the blood.” Fanchon nodded and took a sip of her own coffee.

“Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“I can tell you all sorts of things, my son.” She smiled at him, her ancient eyes sparkling. “But I’ve told you all I know about the abominations.”

“You have my thanks. If there’s anything I can ever do for the
loup garou
, I am in your debt.”

“We’ll call it even if you get these Headhunters out of my territory. They’ve been scouting my people. Looking to add them to their twisted bloodline. It’s what happened to Cezille’s family.”

“She is very much alone in the world.”

“You don’t approve?”

“It’s not my place to approve or disapprove of how you do things.” He tried to keep his response neutral.

“Yet, you do not approve.”

“She’s young to be on her own. To be abandoned by her people.”

“It is our way. We don’t care for the weak and sick. If she grows to adulthood, she’ll be welcomed back into the pack.”

“If she grows into adulthood, she may take over your pack. She’ll have strength unlike any of your people. She’ll know what it is to be alone and she will not fear it,” Imre advised.

She nodded. “I know, and I am tired. I’m ready to turn over the reins to someone who can take it from me.”

“She wanted to see my wings. I’m going to show her on my way out.”

“If you take her flying, you’ll make her a legend.” She took another sip of coffee.

As long as he didn’t soar above the tree line, no one would see him. Just a quick aerial or two…

“One more thing before you go. Your Headhunters are running meth through Loup Marais. It’s not good for anyone here. We’re not generally in the habit of making alliances with outsiders, but we’ll make the alliance with the dragons.”

“I feel I should tell you, we’ve made the alliance with one of the werewolf nations—the Woolvens.”

Fanchon nodded. “They are known to us. They want this Peter Breslin as much as the rest of us, don’t they?”

He nodded. “I have a meeting at Devil’s Due with the Headhunters.”

“You know you have no allies there? The Drago Knights here are no longer yours. They are all Headhunters now. Your Pim should’ve told you. Unless he’s betrayed you.”

“He didn’t smell of wolf.”

“You are wise to wait for proof, but if he lets you walk in to Devil’s Due alone, he’s betrayed his vows and you are all alone.”

“I’m never alone. I’m a Drago Knight.”

She gave him a smile that made her look twenty years younger. “I’ve always admired that about the dragons. You are correct that will not be alone. We’ll be your back up waiting in the shadows, should you need us.”

“Again, I am in your debt.” He stood.

“If Cezille did not return, no one would look for her.” Fanchon said, pointedly.

“Are you asking me to take her?”

“I’m simply sharing a truth with you. You don’t like her circumstances, so change them.”

Imre opened the door to find little Cezille with her face pressed against the door. “You don’t want me either, huh? That’s okay.”

His heart broke for the little girl. “Dragons and
loup garou
don’t mix well, little one.”

“That’s what Fanchon says. That’s why she can’t be with the one she loves.” Cezille shook her head. “That’s dumb.”

“I’ll show you my wings now, if you want.” He didn’t know if she’d still be into it since he’d told he couldn’t take her, but he was sure removing her from all she’d known would do more harm than good. She’d survive. He could see it in her eyes.

“Yeah. I definitely want to see.” She nodded emphatically.

He allowed his wings to bloom from his back.

“Whoa, that’s cool!” She reached up to touch one and paused. “Can I?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for asking.”

She petted his wings, her eyes and her mouth both giant “ohs.” She was almost cartoonishly impressed. “You can really fly.”

“Yeah. I’m really a dragon.”

“That is so cool. I wish I could be a dragon.”

“Nah, I mean, flying
is
cool. But I can’t do it whenever I want. I have to stay hidden all the time. The closest thing I can come to flying is riding my motorcycle.”

“I want one of those, too! I’m going to join the Drago Knights when I grow up.” She nodded emphatically. “Then I can go with you.”

His heart broke into tiny pieces for her.

“You are
loup garou
. And some day, you’re going to lead this pack. You’ll challenge Fanchon and you’ll be the grandmother.”

Cezille rolled her eyes. “Boring. I’d rather have an adventure. When I’m big enough and strong enough, I’m leaving Loup Marais and never coming back. I don’t care about the pack. They don’t care about me.”

“They care, Cezille.”

“Oh really? Would you leave someone you cared about to hunt for gator meat on their own and sleep in the swamp?”

She had him there. “Well, no. But I’m a dragon.”

“Can we fly now? Just a little?”

“Yeah. Hold on.” She climbed up on his back and he transformed—clothes and all—to soar in the small space just beneath the canopy of trees.

The girl squealed in his ear and held tight to his neck, but craned over the edge first on one side, then the other, as if she drink down the whole view, swallow it.

She reminded him so much of Aranka.

Checking the sun’s position in the sky, he realized he had to get back to her before going to Devil’s Due. If he didn’t keep her updated, there was no way she’d stay at the crypt waiting and twiddling her thumbs.

She’d be creeping out into trouble. Most likely trying to follow the veins of gold to find her father, and while he’d admit that might be the fastest and best way to find him, he didn’t want Aranka to put herself in danger if they could avoid it.

And he understood it.

Because it was something he’d do himself.

A
ranka found
deposit after deposit that were more than just a little sketch. Either this guy was dumber than a box of ghouls, or someone was trying really hard to make sure he looked guilty.

So the question was, why did the Headhunters want to make him look guilty?

Speaking with Pim, he didn’t seem to be stupid.

She thought about what Imre had said about the lengths she’d be willing to go to if she had to protect her family. If she thought no one would understand.

Part of her, the part that was raised a princess and knew sometimes you had to make hard choices said it didn’t matter. You did what you had to do and you lived with the consequences, but maybe Imre’s way was the right way. Maybe when you loved someone, when they were family, they deserved the benefit of the doubt.

If someone were trying to set Pim up, what was their end goal? Was it only Pim’s death? Surely, the guilty party knew that would be the punishment for betrayal.

If Pim was guilty, what was
his
end goal? Surely, it couldn’t just be for the money? She scoured his financials looking for anything that might give her another clue. These deposits, while sketchy, weren’t enough reward to make the risk worthwhile.

Then it hit her, this account, while there were deposits made every two weeks, there were never any withdrawals. No debit card transactions, nothing. This account just sat there, getting fatter and fatter—enough to make Pim look incredibly guilty.

Something prickled along her spine, some strange awareness tugging at her bones.

Gold.

It called her, a siren song spinning pretty dreams.

Only, it wasn’t natural.

There was someone manipulating the gold—could it be father?

He wouldn’t know where she was. It had to be some kind of trick to lure her out of hiding. Aranka wouldn’t deny there was part of her that wanted to rush to the source of the sensation with the vain hope of saving her father, but logic prevailed.

Even if she did run off into the gold to find her father, then what? How could she save him? She’d end up getting caught and she’d put Imre at a disadvantage.

So, no. She’d wait for him. She’d trust in him and his promise that they’d do this together. She could do this.

They
could do this.

But the longer he was gone, the harder it was to ignore that pull. The harder it was to think logically.

Her brain ran every scenario of every horrible thing that could have happened to her father. That this thing she felt coming from gold that didn’t belong was her father’s cry for help. That he was being tortured and she sat there, doing nothing, while he was dying—with that thought, she shut it down.

She was smart enough to know that if these messages had been coming from Glorfindel, he’d never make her feel anything like this. Even if the unthinkable had happened to him, he’d never blame her of Krysanthe for what happened to him.

This dark magick was tricky and foul, taking her worst fears and turning them against her. Taking her strengths, the ability to travel through the veins of gold, and making it something dark and terrible.

She’d never been so relieved as when she heard the door open and saw Imre step through it. It was as if every muscle that had coiled, every sense that had been jacked into high-alert was suddenly soothed by his presence.

Aranka threw herself into his arms. “It seemed like you were gone forever.”

“I told you I’d be back as soon I could.”

“I know.” She pressed her lips together. “But I can feel gold in the ground here. Gold that doesn’t belong.”

“I’ve got a meeting set for eight tonight at the Devil’s Due with the Headhunters.” He sighed. “I learned from the
loup garou
, the other shifters in the swamp that night, that the Headhunters have taken over the Knights.”

“And Pim must know that.” She nodded her head. “Except, here’s the thing. His banking transactions are so obvious and he didn’t strike me as stupid.”

“Is it possible he knew you were monitoring him and they’re some kind of cry for help?”

“He had every opportunity to tell me what was going on when we first got here. Instead, he set a meeting with the Headhunters like I asked, and he didn’t warn me that I’ll be walking into their territory while thinking I’m on my home turf.”

“Did you find him?”

“No. Just sent him a text asking him where he is. I told him he needs to meet me at Devil’s Due. If he’s going to set me up, he’s coming down, too.”

“I’m going with you.”

He nodded. “But only if there are veins of gold near that you can trust. I need to know you have a back up option if I’m not walking out of there.”

Ferocity surged through her. “If you’re not walking out of there, neither are they. I won’t leave you, Imre.”

“I want to shake you and rattle your teeth until you agree that you’ll go, but I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“Good.” She nodded, emotion choking her. “Because no matter what you say, we’re mates now. There is no me without you.”

He held her tighter. “This will be an adventure, too, Aranka.

“One day, we’ll tell our children how we stood down a pack of dirty, smelly biker werewolves who’d encroached on our territory and how we tore them to shreds,” she snarled.

“And saved their grandfather, the king.”

“Have you seen him? Do you know if he’s here?”

“The
loup garou
leader told me that the gold in the swamp wasn’t there before. He has to be here.”

Aranka sure hoped so. Otherwise, she didn’t even know where to begin to look. She supposed she could travel the veins of the world until she found him, but that didn’t seem like the adventure she thought it would be—not if she was trying to find her father. She just wanted him safe. She’d trade anything to have him back safe.

She looked up at Imre and realized maybe not anything. Aranka hoped that wasn’t a choice she’d be forced to make.

“Get ready. If you’re coming with me, we need to leave soon. I want to drive around the place and check the veins before we commit one-hundred percent.”

“I already told you, I’m not leaving you.”

“I didn’t say you had to leave me. But what if you need to get someone out? What if your father can’t travel the lines? They’ve got that damn collar on him, I’m sure of it.”

She knew he was right. “Okay. This whole listening to reason thing is bullshit, though. Just saying.”

He kissed her forehead. “I know how hard this is for you. You’ve been independent for a long time and I’m not trying to take that away from you. But there’s more at stake here than either of us.”

“I know that.” She leaned into him. “Just hold me close another minute. Let me pretend that this is all pretend. Just for a second.”

“You don’t have to go,” he said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Actually, you do.” He grinned. “I need you.”

She tightened her arms around him as if that could anchor them both there in the moment. “You know, that’s better than any game of pretend.” Aranka laughed, and it was more of a nervous sound than anything. “You know I can’t do what my sister does. I can’t turn anything or anyone into gold.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. You’re smart, Aranka. You’re fearless—”

“I didn’t have enough sense to be afraid before. I thought I’d seen so much of the world, knew what it had to offer.” She began to nod slowly. “And what it could take away. But I didn’t. Not really. Fearless?” Aranka looked up at the ceiling and then back down to Imre. “No. I’m terrified.”

“And you’re coming with me, anyway. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t stay behind if you tied me up.”

“Maybe I could tie you up after? We could try that, right?”

“Are you trying to soothe my fears or do you really want to tie me up?” She grinned.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Yeah, I guess it can.” She kissed him. “I can’t lose you, Imre.”

“You won’t. I swear.”

For a moment, she didn’t believe him, but then she remembered he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. So she dressed in her shredded leathers—Imre’s claws had made easy work of them. They actually looked kind of badass. She could roll with it. She chose a clean shirt from the closet and while it was much too big, it hung on her like it was meant to be that way.

Briefly, she thought about texting Krysanthe, but she had enough to worry about with what had happened at Hidden Mountain. This task had been entrusted to them and they could handle it.

It was new being the responsible one. Aranka realized she’d always wanted them to believe she could do these things, but she’d never stepped up. She’d always relied on Voshkie, Krys, and her father to handle everything. She’d flit from thing to thing never worrying about what she left in her wake.

That wasn’t really adventure. That was fear.

And she was done with that. She wanted to be the woman Imre believed she was. She understood now what Krys meant when she said Ondrej made her want to be better. She’d thought there was no better woman than Krys, so how could anyone make her want to be better without instilling some sort of feeling of inadequacy?

But she totally got it now.

They drive to Devil’s Due was uneventful, but the sense of that unnatural gold only got stronger. Dread twisted into a tight knot in her gut.

She leaned closer to Imre, inhaled the scent of him and found her center. She knew the werewolves could smell her fear and she wasn’t going to undermine this mission by giving them that power.

When they pulled up to the bar, she felt like she could conquer the world.

Until she caught a glimpse of her neck in the side mirror. The mate mark had scarred, as she knew it would, but just like Ondrej’s Alpha scales looked like a tattoo, so too did her mate mark.

It looked as if she’d gotten “Imre” tattooed on her neck.

Godsdamnit
.

Well, she consoled herself, at least it didn’t say “old lady.” There was always that.

“Pim’s not here and he didn’t answer my texts,” Imre said after scanning the parking lot.

“Do you think he ran?”

“No, I don’t. The blood we found, the bank account with all the money still there… I think he was killed.”

A ragged, dirty child ran toward them, determination etched on her small face.

“I know where the gold man is.”

“Aranka, this is Cezille.”

“You know where my father is?” Hope flooded her, but rather than being a comfort, it only made that knot in her gut tighten.

“They’re keeping him at the jail. I saw him through the window. You have to come or they’re going to move him. They say the Hunter himself is coming for him.”

“When he’s coming?”

Cezille shrugged. “Don’t know. Just heard the guards talking.”

Aranka’s first instinct was to travel the gold, but she even if she could get to him, she didn’t know how to get the collar off and they’d need that to help him escape. She could just go see, just get a look at him—

“—nasty things. Snarling things. I think they’re ghouls. Ain’t like no zombie I’ve ever seen,” the little girl said.

“Wait, you’ve seen zombies?” Aranka couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh yeah. Loads. Especially living out in the swamp and the grandmother is a hoodoo woman. They’re mostly harmless.”

“That’s cool.”

Cezille rewarded her with a big smile. “I like seeing new things. What are you? Are you like the gold man?”

“I’m a gold nymph and the man is my father, Glorfindel, King of the Orlaith.”

“That’s even cooler.” The little girl smiled again. “I’m sorry they took them. The Hunters are bad people. The one they work for, I used to think he was just a story the elders told us to make us behave. But then people started dying in the swamp.”

Aranka knew that they had to help this girl, and the people of Loup Marais. That meant making her father wait and dealing with whatever waited for them inside Devil’s Due first. It was what her father would want her to do, it was what Imre needed to do—this was what being a princess meant.

Didn’t that just suck?

Cezille looked up at Imre, stars in her wide eyes. “You could just burn it down. You breathe fire, right? Just burn it all down and make them die, like in The Howling.”

“You’re a
loup garou
and you like werewolf horror movies?” Imre eyed her.

“Who doesn’t?” She shrugged.

“That’s not how it works. A lot of the people they took, they were Drago Knights. That means something. I’m not going to kill them all. That’s not who I am.”

“Yeah, I know. But it was worth a try.” Her little shoulders slumped. “Fanchon has people here, if you need them. Like she promised.”

Imre looked torn and Aranka could feel his indecision, his concern for the waif wolf. “Can you do something for me?”

“Probably.” Cezille grinned again. “I can do lots of things.”

The little girl pulled her heart strings like nothing else. “If it’s safe, can you get a message to my father? Tell him that we’re coming.” She eyed the determined child. “Only if it’s safe.”

That would get her away from the bar and hopefully give her some measure of protection if shit went down ugly like they expected it would. She supposed sending her to the jail where more of these bastards were holding Aranka’s father wasn’t the best idea, but it was all they had at the moment and it was something she desperately needed someone to do.

“I can do it.” The girl ran off before either of them could say anything else.

“Thanks, Aranka. If we survive this, I’m thinking of asking Ondrej if we can give her the safehouse. She doesn’t have anyone.”

“No one? What about her people? The grandmother she spoke of?”

“The grandmother is more like a tribal chief. They believe in survival of the fittest and if she can survive, she’ll end up leading the tribe.”

“It’s just as likely she’ll end up—” Aranka shuddered.

“Yeah, and that wild sense of adventure? She reminds me so much of you.”

“If she wants to come, we’ll take her with us when we leave this shitburg.”

“A life on the road is no place for a child.”

“No, but Hidden Mountain could be.”