dragon, is coded to my retina. It is my escape hatch. I fall into my hidden safe room.
It may appear that I randomly, without much thought, bought this empty building that no one else wanted to take on. But I’ve been planning this out since the day it became available. I wanted it before I met Chloe, but I was still deep into restoring my cabin and why did I need something so big? But Aegir happened to move into this community, taking the very last open lot and building his high-tech monstrosity. My mother also moved here with my grandmother. Then her friend Methone was here too. Aegir grew his family. Finally, everyone was here, except for me.
I met my Chloe and realized that we were like beings who appreciate the value in the artifacts of another age. So I bought this house for the both of us, but mainly as a gift for my female. The probate attorney and the homeowner’s association were so relieved to finally have a buyer they practically gave it away. Which is good, because the place is a damn currency pit.
The window seals behind me, leaving no light to be seen from the outside. I hit the switch and my command station lights up. This is my safe room as well as my command center. Good thing I preplanned all this out like I usually do when I move somewhere new. I had this installed prior to leaving on my mission. This has come in handy.
I ping my team to let them know I’ve made it.
Hannibal contacts me through our secure message system. The government knows about the raid. They’re pissed that you upped the mission without permission. The President didn’t even want the raid? You’re caught in the middle of some political shit storm between the President and the Fire Council. Lay low. I told them you disappeared and I don’t know where you are. Meanwhile, the assassins are still trying to kill your surrogate. You are her sole protector. The rest of us have been decommissioned and are under house arrest. It’s good you got away when you did.
Motherfucking politicians. I’ve never been good at taking orders and sweet-talking my “superiors” into doing what I want. Dad was much better at following the chain of command, but I’m often as unruly as wildfire. This is why I left my official military status in the first place.
The result of this “shit storm” is that I need to stay hidden in my own house. No one can know I’m here. I need freedom to protect the female I love and the child she carries.
I check the screens, my chest loosening at the sight of my Chloe innocently asleep on my bed, right where she should be. I blow out a breath and lie down on the narrow bed, barely big enough to fit me. There’s a tiny cleansing unit and toilet in the corner, as well as an economy food dispenser and a sink. Nothing fancy or high-tech, but it will do. It’s all I need in order to stay here as long as is necessary.
I drink a gallon of water and fall asleep, feeling better that I’m near my bound.
Hours later I wake to a permanently darkened room, leaving me no concept of time or space. I must’ve slept hard and long, though, because my neck is killing me. I tilt my head from side to side, cracking bones, and I hear the sound of insistent beeping.
Damn.
I sit up and move over to check the panel of screens and find one lit up. I programmed the system to alert me if anyone approached the domicile. And there’s a fucker out there, standing on the front doorstep. A large male who looks like a government official.
He’s Hyrrokin, so not an actual member of the Mafia. Those fuckers are very xenophobic and only allow royal pigment Xylan into their ranks. This male could easily have been bought to do their dirty work though. I’m ninety-nine percent certain he’s here to check up on my female’s situation, with the added benefit of reporting back to the Mafia. And the guards at the gate to the community legally had to let him in, because he’s a government employee with probable cause. He’s the perfect mole. These assholes are smarter than I thought.
And Chloe is already opening the front door.
Godsdammit.
I race down three flights of stairs and hit the ground floor and pause, forcing myself to move