Chapter 1
Rhys stepped up to the nondescript door of the warehouse building in Biloxi, Mississippi, where a big male was standing guard. It was amazing that this place was standing at all, but most of the Gulf Coast had fared well even after The Fall seven weeks ago.
The Fall, aka when a bunch of asshole dragons had decided to nearly burn the world down so they could take over. Things hadn’t worked out the way they’d planned, but supernaturals were out to the world, a lot of people were dead, and nearly everywhere was rebuilding.
As a dragon shifter himself, he wanted to hunt down and destroy those monsters for the death and destruction they’d committed. Many, but not all, were dead at least. And the newly created supernatural territories, which had replaced all human governments, seemed to have things well in hand. They were taking out those dragons one by one.
Which was good, since his mission in life—the one that had been driving him for as long as he could remember; the one that had forced him into Hibernation thousands of years ago—was still riding him hard.
That same mission was the reason he was standing outside a nightclub owned by a half-demon he’d never met so he could get some information. The club itself wasn’t open anymore, or at least not right now, but the male had agreed to meet Rhys here.
“I’m here to see Bo. My name’s Rhys,” he said to the male who was watching him cautiously.
The broad-shouldered, muscled guy nodded once and Rhys wasn’t sure what kind of being he was. He smelled a bit like a vampire but not quite. “He’s expecting you,” he said as he opened the door.
Rhys was aware of video cameras aimed at his face as he stepped inside.
The place was expansive, and he imagined that when the world wasn’t turned upside down, this place probably stayed busy. A supernatural-only club was fairly rare and his kind often needed the chance to unwind without prying human eyes. Not that it really mattered anymore since they were out to humans.
It was easy to find Bo Broussard, even if he hadn’t known what the male looked like, thanks to his intel.
The only person visible was a male with light brown skin standing behind a huge bar, pulling out various bottles. Subtle waves of power rolled off him, though whether intentional or unintentional, Rhys wasn’t certain. Some supernaturals couldn’t contain their power—he was one of those as well.
“Bo Broussard?” Rhys asked as he approached, scanning the entire place. Empty dance floors, high-top tables with chairs stacked on them, clean floors. There were a few doors that he guessed led to a kitchen and maybe bedrooms, if the rumors he’d heard of the place were true.
The male gave him a quick sweep and nodded once. “That’s me. And you are?”
He knew the male was expecting him, but he still needed to introduce himself properly. “Rhys of the Donnachaidh clan from northern Scotland.” Though his home hadn’t been called Scotland back when he’d gone into Hibernation. He missed his homeland but nothing felt like home anymore. Not even the place with fields so green men wrote poetry about them. “Thank you for meeting with me. I know times are tough right now.”
The male simply snorted. “I needed to go through some stuff anyway. Why don’t you have a Scottish accent?”
“Ah…” He hadn’t been expecting that question.
The male paused when Rhys did, pinning him with an electric amber stare.
“What do you know of my kind?”
The male’s mouth curved up in a sort of knowing grin. “More than most.”
Rhys wasn’t sure what to make of that. But he knew he needed this male’s knowledge so he was honest. “Do you know what Hibernation is for our kind?”
“I do.”
“All right, then. I just woke up from one about a year ago and I’ve been living here in the States ever since then.” He’d been told that he didn’t have any discernible regional dialect—and he liked it that way. His access to and ability to converse in modern language was another thing in itself—through magic mainly. As of now, he spoke a few languages thanks to an old friend who’d helped him get acquainted with this modern world.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“I’m hunting a witch named Catta. I have no idea what name she goes by now, but it’s the one I knew her by thousands of years ago.”
The male stopped what he was doing and leaned against the back of the