Into The Dragon's World - Brittany White Page 0,24

seemed like the mob of clubbers had doubled in size, a mad frenzy of thrashing arms and wild dancing. Brady looked back to the bar. Casey was deep in conversation with one of the regulars, Sally, a cat shifter who always ordered rum and milk drinks.

Everything’s okay, he thought, trying to make himself relax. Every muscle in his body felt as taut as a violin string. He’d never thought of himself as having any kind of sixth sense, unlike some shifters, but all night he’d felt an annoying buzz in the back of his mind. Something wasn’t right.

He scanned the crowd.

And there he was.

Evan Wallace stood near the back of the club, staring at Brady as if he’d just been waiting to be noticed. He smiled and held out his drink in a mocking toast. Then he looked over to the bar, where Casey laughed, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Brady fought his way through the crowd, trying to keep one eye on Casey and the other on Wallace’s position. He’d underestimated his arrogance. Brady had put the bouncers on notice about Wallace, but somehow he’d slipped past them. He looked like a perfectly ordinary man, nothing threatening or violent about him at all. No one would have noticed him.

Wallace was making his way to the emergency exit. Brady struggled through the gyrating dancers and caught the door before it could close. The exit led out into an alley. One lone streetlamp stood at the mouth, casting a sickly yellow light across the shadows.

“Wallace!” Brady shouted.

A moment later, Wallace stepped out of a dark corner. The smile on his face was almost insane, but his eyes were steady and cold. He looked Brady up and down, shaking his head.

“So, you’re the boyfriend,” he said and wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. “Dragon shifter, if I’m not mistaken. Shame. She could do a lot better.”

“If you come here again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Sic your police dog on me?” Wallace laughed. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Markonian.”

The urge to shift was almost overwhelming, but he knew if he took his dragon form, he would kill Wallace where he stood. As much as he despised him, Brady didn’t want Wallace’s death on his conscience for the rest of his life.

“I’m going to have her eventually,” Wallace continued. “It’s just a matter of time. You won’t stop me.” He chuckled, a nasty sound. “I mean, here we are. Alone. A bear and a dragon. And you don’t even have the balls to shift right now.”

In an instant, Wallace transformed. A ten-foot-tall bear stood in his place, muzzle open and dripping with drool. He looked at Brady with cold, black eyes.

I, on the other hand, don’t have that problem.

The voice blasted through Brady’s mind just as Wallace swiped at him with a massive claw. Brady jumped away, but not quickly enough. The claws caught him across the chest, leaving four deep slashes. Brady fell backwards as Wallace towered over him.

If she doesn’t come to me, she will die, Wallace’s voice boomed in Brady’s mind. But you will die first.

Wallace’s bear form roared, its huge mouth jagged with yellowed teeth, and he raised his arm to take another swipe at Brady, this time going for the head.

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the alley. Wallace reared back as the bullet hit him in the shoulder. Brady twisted around to see Zack standing in the exit, aiming to take another shot.

Still in bear form, Wallace raced away, growling and leaving a trail of blood.

“You okay?” Zack asked, helping Brady to his feet.

“Been better.” He touched his torn chest and felt for damage. The cuts were deep, but not life-threatening. Yet. It could have been worse; Wallace had been aiming for his belly. “I’ve got to get Casey out of here.”

“I’ll help you get her to your apartment—”

“No. He probably already knows where we all live. He’ll come for her wherever she is.”

“So, where else is there to go?” Zack asked. “The moon?”

Brady smiled tightly. He knew a place.

16

Casey

The first thing Casey saw was the blood on Brady’s shirt. He made his way through the crowd to the bar and she ran to meet him halfway. He had been slashed across the chest, his shirt and flesh torn to ribbons.

“Oh, my God...Brady!” She grabbed a clean towel from the bar and pressed it against his chest. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“We need to leave,” Brady said, taking her hand. “Right now.”

A coldness settled in Casey’s stomach.