Chapter Three

Jade

My head felt swollen, painful, as though it would blow its top like a volcano and spill my brains down my neck to my back. I thought I lay on my back, but I wasn't sure. Whatever I lay on felt lumpy, hard, and I was cold. As though a window to the chilling air outside had been left open and now caressed my bare skin.

Blinking, I opened my eyes. Then instantly shut them. A bright light far above cast far too much brilliance into my pupils to not hurt like of son of a bitch. Moaning, I think I moaned anyway, I covered my eyes with my arm. That helped tremendously.

"You'll be all right, Jade."

The voice came from anywhere and everywhere. Not willing to fight the damn light, I groaned, wondering if I was going to sick up all that I'd drunk earlier while at the bar with Alix. My roiling stomach threatened to heave, but I swallowed several times and the urge passed. Slowly. But it passed.

"Where am I?" I muttered, my tongue thick.

"In a cage, unfortunately," the voice answered. "I'm so sorry."

"Who th' fuck're you?"

"Magnus. I'm the one who stabbed you with the dope. Believe me, I wish I didn't have to do that."

"Fucker."

I tried to remember what happened. I remembered saying good night to Alix, hugged her, walked her to her car, watched her drive away. That much stayed clear. Things after that moment became muzzy, indistinct. I walked home, I knew I did, drunker than usual, but still sober enough to find my way home.

I'd felt something hit me in the neck, I reached for my tactical baton, turned – and stared at the handsome black-haired dude with the blue eyes. Then nothing until this moment.

"I'll kill you," I mumbled. "I remember you now. You messed with the wrong chica, you asshole."

"I'm so sorry. I truly am."

"Stick your apology up your ass."

The nausea returned full force. I turned on the bed, the cot, the mat, whatever it was I lay on, and vomited onto a concrete floor. I knew it was concrete by the way my puke spattered on impact. Again and again I hurled, my chest aching, my stomach screaming, puking up what I'd eaten last week as well as the alcohol I'd drunk earlier that night.

If it was indeed the same night. I had no idea when I was much less where I was.

"Gawd," I moaned, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you."

"I wish I could let you."

"Fucker."

"So you said before. Look, your father owes my father. Once your father pays up, you'll go free. I promise."

The sheer complexity of his words took some time to sink in. When they did, I lay still, disbelieving. "What? Say again?"

He sighed. "I know. It sucks. My old man swears your old man cheated him long before you or I were born. If your pop pays up, I can let you go. Easy peasy."

"You doped me, kidnapped me, over a fucking debt I don't fucking owe ?"

"Uh, that's about right, yeah."

Forcing the pain back, forcing the nausea into submission, I slowly sat up. The stench of my vomit pierced my nose, but I planted my feet on the cement floor. Out of my vomit, of course. I stared at Magnus, who stared at me through the glass prison he'd put me in.

"Why?"

He shunted his gaze from mine. "My old man, well, he's a bad dude, you know? Really bad. If I don't do what he says, well, I'm fucked. Really fucked."

"Better you than me, asshole."

Unbelievably, he chuckled. "I know. I reckon I'm too much of a chickenshit to say no to him. I'm working on it though, I am. I tried to tell him I won't grab you, hurt you, but he, well, he's sort of – forceful. If you know what I mean."

I staggered upright, my hair in my face, and leaned against the clear wall of my prison. "You're just a numb nut. A coward. Can't say no to your old man. Kiss my ass, pecker head. And get in here and clean this shit up."

"Sorry, no can do. On both suggestions. There's a bucket of water behind you, and a drain right there. Wash the puke down the drain. I'll fetch you another bucket later."

I gazed blearily at the bucket he mentioned. "Is that what I'm supposed to piss in?"

"Um, yeah. But you'll have plenty of food, booze if you want it. Everything you need, you'll have. Books, magazines, movies."

I eyed the television, the DVD player. The cot with a pillow and blanket. The bucket. The bright lights and cameras surrounding my prison. I smiled.

"You think you can hold me, numb nuts?" I inquired. "Do you have any idea what I am?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. I do."

I shifted. The cell contained me, but only just. Lifting my muzzle, I parted my immense jaws in a wild bray of laughter. I cracked my tail against the glass imprisoning me. It held, true, but I had yet to set it aflame.

"You have no idea who and what I am, dumb ass."

I blasted flame against the glass, fully expecting it to melt, to ooze to the cement floor, to free me from its paltry prison.

Instead, it repelled my flames back at me, burning my muzzle, my eyes, my tongue, my chest. I yelped in pain, shut my flames down, gaping at the smoked, yet intact shield between me and freedom. "What the fuck ?"

Magnus shifted.

His colors a mix of black and blue, he stood, towering over me, his jaws parted to reveal his ranks of jagged teeth, his forked tongue. His blue eyes brilliant, they blazed down at me with what I thought was compassion. His serpentine neck, ridged with sharp spines even as mine did, whipped around to bring his muzzle close to my face.

"Jade," he muttered, "I am sorry. I'm a dragon, same as you. My father made this jail dragon proof. I can't help you, though I wish I could. Just take my advice – stay cool. Your father will make a deal with mine, and you can go free."

I craved to sink my teeth into his muzzle, then rip it wide open. Then flame down his fucking, asshole throat and kill him. I couldn't. Whatever his father built to keep me imprisoned would work. Not my strength, not my flame, not my snarky attitude would free me from this place. I retreated from him, and sat on the cement floor, coiling my tail around my feet.

"Go away," I growled. "Go away to kiss your dad's ass. You're not a real dragon. Dragons have guts, have the courage to do what's right. And, son, that ain't you."

***

"I'm Arnaud."

"Good for you."

I lay on the cot, staring up at the ceiling, which appeared to be steel beams and cement behind the bright light. The effects of the dope Magnus stabbed me with had long since departed, leaving me angry and scared. He'd opened the panel that slid sideways, and pushed a tray of food in. That was hours ago, and I hadn't touched it.

"I've notified your father of your condition, Jade," Magnus's pop continued, his voice smarmy. "I gave him one week to sign the paperwork that grants me half of his real estate empire."

"He won't do it."

At last, I glanced over at Arnaud, Magnus standing behind him, almost like a soldier under inspection. Unlike Magnus, Arnaud had long lost the fitness that he maybe once had. Pudgy, soft, with beady, evil eyes and a balding head, Arnaud looked like a walking advertisement for contraceptives.

"Of course, he will," Arnaud snapped. "You're his kin."

"He doesn't like me much." I grinned without humor. "If you killed me, he'd be ever so grateful."

Magnus's expression didn't change, but Arnaud's did. His skin darkened to a shade of red I suspected might be the first symptom of an active stroke. Yeah, stroke out mother fucker, bleed into your puny little brain and die.

"That's not what my sources tell me," Arnaud snapped. "I'm told you're very close to him."

"Your sources are wrong. He can make another daughter if he wants. Much harder to rebuild all his wealth."

Arnaud slammed his closed fist against the wall of my prison. "For your sake, he'd better decide he wants you alive and intact. I promise you, your death will be quite messy."

Upon the heels of that statement, Arnaud stormed away, past his son, and up a long set of stairs. That I was in a basement or cellar, far enough underground that a pissed off dragon couldn't be seen or heard, had become clear. Still, I'd spent some time walking around my cell, searching for potential weaknesses, and found none.

That wouldn't stop me from trying. What else did I have to do to pass the time?

Magnus gestured toward my uneaten meal. "You should eat."

"You should let me go."

He didn't reply to that, nor did I really expect him to. Too cowardly to stand up to Arnaud, too willing to enter into a federal crime, Magnus hadn't the guts to step on his daddy's toes. Not even to spare a non-combatant. He knew what he did was wrong, he did it anyway.

"Your father will pay to have you released," he said, yet his voice lacked conviction.

"I'll be missed," I mused, staring up at the ceiling. "My friend will report me missing, she knows you were watching me that night. She'll give the cops your description, they'll be looking for you. And me."

"They won't find you here."

"You underestimated me, GQ," I went on. "You both did. I'll escape this thing. Then the cops, and the feds, will land on you with the force of an avalanche."

"Do you really think a human jail can withstand a dragon?"

I chuckled. "Nope. But in tearing the jail down, you, and daddy dearest, will reveal to humans that dragon shifters exist. How many of our kind languish in prison for their crimes, but won't shift and reveal to the world they're dragons?"

"I don't know."

"You won't either. I suspect, deep down, you do have a loyalty to our kind. You won't rip the jail apart to free yourself."

Magnus said nothing. I studied the steel beams beyond the bright light, speculating as to their strength. Though I couldn't know for certain, I suspected Arnaud placed me in a large warehouse-type structure, probably away from busy, nosy humans. I felt sure no humans worked up there. Bringing those beams down might cause the floor above to cave in.

On top of me.

Still, by taking down several beams, I'd easily cling to others, albeit upside down, but my talons would hold me. Once the floor collapsed, I'd crawl through the opening, spread my wings and fly, baby, fly.

So absorbed in my escape plans, I hadn't noticed Magnus had left me. Great. I didn't need the distraction. I continued to play out the plan in my mind, which beams to yank out, which to keep.

After that, I'd focus on getting out of this prison.

And I hoped I'd meet up with Magnus on my way out.