Kissed by Ice(49)

We were about to head out for another session of Beat-up-on-Morgan when my cell phone rang. I breathed a sigh of relief until I saw it was Jack. I'd almost rather face Tommy's endless drills.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

There was a pause. "Excuse me?" Jack's tone was stilted. Dude seriously needed to loosen up.

"Never mind," I said. "What's up?"

"I think I might have a lead on Alister."

Finally. "Michigan?"

A moment of silence. "Why Michigan?"

"Jade thought he might be there. He talked about it."

"Pretty sure he is not in Michigan," Jack said. "My sources say he somewhere in—get this—Scotland."

"You have got to be kidding me." All this, and Alister was in Dragon territory? A man who hated dragons with a passion?

"It's odd, right? It was the last place I expected him to be."

Something niggled at my brain. "Jade said something about Alister going to hide the book in the last place anyone would expect it to be. Somewhere totally obvious."

"How is Scotland obvious?" he asked. "That's more like the exact opposite of obvious."

He was right, which was what was so confusing. Obvious would've been back in London. MI8 maybe. Not in the middle of the land owned by his enemies. The dragons were not going to like Alister in their territory. Drago was going to go batshit when he found out. Which was why he was the last person on the planet I planned on telling.

"You're sure he's there?" I asked.

"As sure as I can be," Jack said. "I'm headed there now. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Okay, keep me posted." I hung up the phone, stared at it a minute, then shoved it back in my pocket.

"I take it you're going to Scotland." Tommy's face was devoid of expression. I couldn't tell if he was pleased, angry, or just didn't care.

"I have to."

"Because of Inigo." Still no expression.

He was right, of course. I wanted to say it was because I was going to save the world, or because I planned to catch Alister. Those things were true. But the truth was, I'd use any excuse to see Inigo again. Even if he didn't want to see me. How pathetic was that?

I didn't say any of that, of course. "I have to go, Tommy."

He nodded. As I walked away I felt his eyes on me all the way to the cabin.





The irony of Alister choosing Scotland as a hideout did not escape me. I'd never been one to believe in coincidences, and this was far beyond mere coincidence. Alister and his ancestors had done everything they could to eradicate the Dragon race. Alister himself had told me how much he hated them. He wanted one race and one race only on this planet: humans. I'm not even sure I'd pass muster at this point. He was willing to use any means necessary—even supernatural ones—to ensure the supernatural races were wiped out.

What was he doing in Scotland? What did he have planned? Whatever it was, he couldn't possibly be up to any good.

Jack met me at the train station in Edinburgh. I quickly picked him out in the crowd. He stood head and shoulders above the rest, his longish hair kissed by the sun, and his eyes the color of the ocean just before a storm. Men gave him a wide berth. Women ogled him with unconcealed lust. Couldn't say I blamed them. He was one fine specimen of manhood. Unfortunately, he was as messed up in the head as the rest of them.

I joined him on the platform. "Anything new?"

He shook his head as he led me toward the exit. "Still looking. Turns out he owns a couple of flats on the Royal Mile. According to my sources, he was staying in one, but by the time I got there, the place was empty."

"And no leads to where he might've gone?"

"Not one." Frustration colored his tone. It looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. His edginess was almost palpable, and it was making me cranky.

"Okay," I said. "I'd like to see the place for myself."

"You think I missed something?" He sounded offended. Stupid man and his gods-awful pride. Made me want to smack him upside the head.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But a second set of eyes never hurts." I wasn't about to downplay how serious this was to sooth his wounded ego. I had a job to do.

"Fine," he ground out. "Car's over there."

He led me to a small, dirty blue Fiat parked on the street near the train station. It was one of the ugliest damn cars I'd ever seen, but we were sure to blend in fine. With Alister, our only chance was if he never saw us coming. After storing my bag in the trunk, or boot, as they called it there, I slid into the passenger seat on the left side of the car. Jack started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

The train station wasn't far from the Royal Mile, so it wasn't long before we were pulling into a small private car park. Leaving my bag in the car, Jack led me the few blocks to Alister's flat. It was a modest second floor walk-up, which surprised me. I'd expected a penthouse suite or something fancier, not this humble one-bedroom with the world's smallest kitchenette.