Kissed by Ice(50)

Jack lingered inside the door while I prowled around the apartment. There wasn't much to see: no pictures on the walls, no food in the fridge, no toiletries in the bathroom. The only thing left in the wardrobe was a single wire hanger. I even checked under the bed and behind the fridge; nothing but dust bunnies.

I stood in the middle of the living room and turned slowly in a circle. The sagging couch was at least ten years old and the TV not much newer. There was a cheap, flat, pack-end table with a brass lamp that looked like it had come from a thrift shop. The dented lampshade had once been cream, but was now a dirty beige. I lifted the couch cushions and found a single copper pence and a couple stale pieces of popcorn. I let the cushions fall back into place with a sigh.

"There's absolutely nothing here."

Jack shrugged as if to say "Told you." It's a good thing he didn't say it out loud, or I might have slugged him. His attitude lately had been testing my patience.

"Not helpful, Jack." I moved into the bedroom and stared at the bed, frowning. I lifted the duvet, and a small puff of dust rose into the air. Letting it fall back into place, I strode back into the front room. "He was never here. Alister was never in this apartment."

Jack frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I know some of you men aren't big on cleanliness," I said. "But even you must've noticed there's way too much dust here. The bed hasn't been slept in. That TV—" I stabbed a finger in the direction of the set—" is way out of date. The entire UK went digital years ago. It wouldn't even receive a signal now. This is all…set dressing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nobody lives here, Jack. Nobody even stays here. I don't know how Alister convinced your 'sources' he was holing up here, but I'll bet anything he never set foot in this place."

"My sources wouldn't lie." Jack's jaw was clenched, a sure sign he was pissed.

"Not saying they did. I'm saying they were fooled. Alister tricked them. I don't know how, but he was never in this building."

"Fine. So where is he?"

I shook my head. "No idea. But I'll bet he's nowhere near Scotland." Jade had said the place would be so obvious, I wouldn't expect it. And while I hadn't expected Scotland, it wasn't an obvious place either. It felt all wrong.

Jack let out a growl of frustration and slammed his fist against the wall. The lath and plaster cracked under the impact. I wanted to say something snarky, but I bit my tongue. No point getting him more riled up than he already was.

"Now what?" Jack snarled.

He was asking me? That was a first. "I say you go back to your sources and see what you can dig up."

"And you?"

"I've got a Dragon to visit."





Chapter Nineteen



For a guy who liked to wear worn jeans and black leather jackets, Drago's office was surprisingly elegant. The walls were covered in bookshelves stuffed with leather-bound volumes. The plush carpet was the color of port wine, and the massive oak desk was stained almost black. I wasn't surprised to note that the intricately carved legs were dragons. Everywhere I looked were dragons: dragon statuettes in niches, dragon tapestries hanging from the walls. There was an even a little pewter box on Drago's desk with a dragon perched on top'.

"Overkill on the dragon theme, don't you think?"

He rolled his eyes. "People seem to think because I'm the king of the dragons, I need a bunch of dragon shit. What else am I supposed to do with it? Do you know what kind of a bollocking I would get if one of the dukes walked in and their gift wasn't on display?"

"Good point." I sank into one of the cushy chairs opposite him.

"What can I do for you, Morgan?" Tilting back in his chair, he propped his booted feet on the massive desk. He looked more like a cover model for a romance novel than royalty. "If it's about Inigo, not much I can do there." He sounded like he was sorry about that. I didn't blame him. You can't make people do stuff they don't want to do, and I seriously doubted Inigo was open to his brother meddling.

"I know. It's not that. It's Alister Jones."

"What's that asshole up to now?"

A smiled tugged at my lips. "He's in the wind. Still. We almost had him in the Caribbean, but he got away. Jack got a lead that he was in Edinburgh, but when we got there, we found no trace of him. Pretty sure it was a deliberately false lead."

"How can I help?" He steepled his fingers and stared at me with inscrutable gold eyes.

"Rumor has it you have a network of, ah, informants," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. I couldn't tell if he was surprised or upset that I knew. "Who told you that?"