Dragon's Second Chance Romance - Riley Storm Page 0,54

Peaks was nestled between its namesake range of mountains.

The phone rang. And rang. Then it went dead.

“Sonofabitch!” he snarled, almost throwing his phone at the ground in frustration and rage.

Someone had hung up on him. Either it was Claire, who simply did not want to talk to him. Or someone else had her phone.

He hit redial, but the same thing happened halfway through.

“Shit.” He turned to look at Rann. “Someone has Claire.”

Rann didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

“Driving is too slow,” Pietro rumbled, running back to the car, rifling through the trunk until he found what he was looking for, a bag.

“You sure about this?” Rann asked as they began stripping, a rapidly efficient process spurred by years of practice.

“I have to,” Pietro said, stuffing his clothes into the bag and placing it on the ground away from the car. “I have to get to her.”

“She’s that important?” Rann asked, though he didn’t slow down.

Pietro nodded and spread his arms wide, letting the change come over him. Power flowed into his body rapidly. His dragon, perhaps recognizing the urgency, came rushing through with a rush that Pietro had never felt before. It seemed the change was over in an instant.

He grabbed the bag in one claw, the action rather dainty for a seventy-foot dragon, and fixed Rann with a look as he spread his wings.

“She’s my mate,” he said, and launched himself into the air.

Chapter Thirty

Pietro

He crept down the stairs, silent as death.

Voices could be heard in front of him as he reached the landing, but they were distorted, the rough carved stone of the hallway ahead causing the sounds to bounce and echo, distorting them beyond even what his dragon hearing could achieve.

Water covered the walls as well, wet and slimy, dripping occasionally from overhead. In the background, the sound of heavy machinery provided a constant low thrum that filled his entire body. Overhead lights were placed far apart, leaving huge patches of shadows between them.

Part of Pietro wanted to charge on ahead. He knew Claire was there. He could smell her trail. But something held him back. He also knew who was with her, and that was what made him cautious.

There’s no way Pete could have known about this place. Which means he’s not alone.

Pietro couldn’t smell anyone else apart from Claire and Pete, and that made him nervous. Made him cautious. Rann was waiting up top, ready to grab anyone or anything that made a run for it before Pietro got there.

The underground complex was part of the original reservoir for Five Peaks. Even Pietro had never explored it, though he knew that tunnels existed that were not part of the concrete fabrication of the modern, updated section that sat above them. That’s where the sounds of heavy machinery in operation were coming from, the vibrations seeping down into the earth just like the water.

Creeping from shadow to shadow, he was on a razor’s edge, ready for anything.

It angered him that, in the midst of all the vampire hubbub, everyone, including himself, had forgotten about Pete. Perhaps they’d just figured he would be gone, on the run after Claire had given the police all the information she had on him. Who would have expected him to stick around in Five Peaks after that?

Certainly not me, Pietro thought angrily, upset over the oversight. I should have known better. Should have expected he would try something like this, the arrogant bastard.

Getting closer now, Pietro could make out the voices. The first one he heard was Pete’s.

“I was gonna take you back with me at first,” he was saying. “After I grabbed you out from under their noses.”

A victory speech? Really, Pete? Even you should know better than that…

But he didn’t. Pete was nothing but a two-bit criminal, a nobody. In his own mind, he was at the top of the world now. A badass wanted by the police, who had grabbed the woman who snitched on him, and he was going to have his revenge.

“But then, I had a better plan. Why turn you into a heroin-riddled prostitute when I could do so much better? I could make you into something far, far worse.”

“I’ll take heroin prostitute,” Claire said dryly. “If you don’t mind. I don’t see how the accommodation could be any worse than this cesspool. I’m pretty sure there are rats humping in the corner over there.”

Pietro started to grin at Claire’s defiance, but it was wiped from his face by the stinging sound of skin on skin, and