The air vibrated with dangerous energy, and the hair on her neck rose. Daxton’s torso flexed under his tight pullover, muscles ripplingwith barely suppressed power. His face was sealed in remote tension. Gnashing dragon teeth imprinted along the link. And pain.
“Daxton?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t have left the room.”
The grit in his voice pulled at her long-locked caring nature. “You didn’t know.”
“Don’t defend me.”
Her back bristled. “I took care of it.”
Simon snapped, “You also failed to tell anyone about it.”
Because it hurts to talk about it.“I’m telling you now.”
Simon sighed. “I thought Darcy was acting fishy. Kept calling and asking me where you were. I didn’t expect her to find you that fast. She must have searched every hospital.”
“An Archfiend’s puppet will.” Daxton jerked his hand over his short hair, his body still tense. “They’ll obsess over a thought until they complete it. I’ll get surveillance on her. See if the Archfiend pays her a visit. Hopefully, we can track this thing down.”
Izzy wiped her sweaty palms against her pants. “How many friends do you have?”
“Enough. Afterward, we will rehabilitate her until the manipulation wears off. She won’t get to you.”
Tension eased from her shoulders. “We call it Influence.”
“Influence, then. Can the Archfiend track the laptop?”
“Not with it in airplane mode,” Simon said. “Whoever put the code probably set it off on a timer. It’s safe now. I’m sorry, Izzy.”
She stared out the window, feeling as far from the Earth as the plane was.
“We’ll talk soon.” Daxton hung up the line. “Are you all right?”
She closed her eyes, trying to force down the anger and helplessness his question provoked. Had she not been so emotional, she would have told them about the attack. She would have handled this situation in a more logical way. “Tell me something to distract me.”
He sat back with a sigh. “Some people call me the Wandering Cannon.”
“Go on.”
“It’s hard to behave when your dragon considers itself more dominant than others, so I acted out. A lot.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his red neck. “I’d scare Native Americans in dragon form or use gunpowder to fish. Keiran, our Centurion, had his hands full with me, especially after my Maternal passed away. We’re raised by a Maternal or Paternal dragon since our kind is stretched thin hunting Tattered Ones.”
She couldn’t help but stare at him like one of her books, and she leaned closer with every word.
“Keiran made me run errands, wasting energy so I wouldn’t be a nuisance, though most of the time I got into more trouble. My behavior worsened enough that Keiran sent me across the United States so other chiefs could try their hands at disciplining me.”
Izzy followed Daxton’s gaze as it dipped to her hair dangling over her shoulder. Tendrils of yearning escaped around her barrier along the link. Daxton reached forward, and the thread of longing for his touch within herself was too hard to resist, so she allowed him to wrap his hand in her scarf, then grab a strand of her hair. As he rubbed the strands between his thumb and finger, it tugged and tickled her scalp.
Izzy fidgeted with her glasses and looked at his chest, his face—anywhere but at his fingers. His breath tickled her cheek as he continued his story.
“…been to all fifty states more times than I can count. That’s why I’m friends with a lot of Rogues. I ran away a lot, and I’d stumble upon them. It’s like I couldn’t help but want to be around other dragons.”
His spicy aroma and presence enveloped her. The dragon stood at her shield, its warmth making the hair on her neck stand on end. She craved stories, and one from a dragon was unique. Her mind absorbed his words, cautiously venturing into the web he spun.
What would happen if he leaned closer? Their faces would close in, and if she angled her head…
Her attention slipped to his lush lips, watching him speak. She forced herself to meet his gaze and pushed the sensual thoughts from her mind the best she could.
“Anyway, because of my past connections, I’ve been able to build my company effectively,” he said.