Being Unnoticeable might make me invisible to cameras, but I couldn’t hide from heat signature sensors or advanced motion recognition tech.
So, when an electric buzz filled the air, and the torch’s flame roared to life, I was cursing my gift yet again. Something had caught my presence and triggered the torch’s flame to grow.
It took a while for my vision to adjust to the brightness, and when it did, I knew a lot of things. The most important one? I shouldn’t have come down here.
I was in a warehouse. The ceiling was easily three stories high and lined with draconian-looking torches. But more important was the pile of gold, silver and jewels taller than a two-story building. The everyday pirate’s wet dream.
By the mother of all things fuckery.
Mr. Creed was a wyvern shifter. And I just waltzed into his lair.
I realized this was a lot of words for “Aster King II is dead.” But I took a minute to really stew in my panic.
Wyverns were the most common type of mythical shifters and were notorious for their huge piles of shiny things. No one but a wyvern shifter’s mate was allowed in their lair. Everyone else, even family, could be legally obliterated by the wyvern.
I hung, suspended in absolute shock, for five full seconds. When my brain caught up to reality, I knew it was time for me to leave.
But when I turned to run, a scaly tree trunk whipped across my stomach. I went flying, briefcase knocked out of my hands.
My back exploded in pain as I hit the hoard mountain. Something hard cracked against the back of my head, sending black spots across my vision. Glittering gems and gold slid around me in a miniature avalanche, while hundreds of pieces skittered and rolled across the floor.
My chest burned. I gasped for air, but I couldn’t breathe. Gods, it was like someone punctured my lungs.
But that was the least of my worries. I turned my head to the left to see something that looked like a cross between a crocodile and dragon charge me. He was the height of the average pickup truck, and a ridiculously long, flexible tail curled behind him.
His tail. His tail hit me. Think, Aster. Move Aster!
Three things happened next. First, I remembered that I was still in stealth mode. Second, the wyvern hesitated, and his red eyes darted around as the dislodged gems and silver and gold pieces skittered around the room.
Third, I almost peed myself out of pure terror.
But this girl was the international champion of “Holding Pee on a Seven-Hour Flight Because an Adorable Elderly Couple was Sleeping in the Two Seats Beside Her.” Even after three cans of ginger ale.
My bladder held like the champ it was.
The beast’s eyes followed all the clinking noises as the final pieces of his treasure rolled away.
He was flustered. And he wasn’t sure where I was.
If I’d been Unnoticeable when he’d hit me with his tail, maybe the monster hadn’t actually seen me. It could have been a lucky hit, and now, I had the dizzying pattern of the treasure behind me.
Ideal for my camouflage abilities.
I didn’t move from my spot. My lungs burned as I forced myself to breathe slowly, and my heart thundered. I wanted to whimper or beg for my life, but that would defeat the purpose. Right now, all of his instincts were telling him to kill the intruder, and our laws literally protected his right to do so.
Silence fell over the warehouse. I didn’t budge. The wyvern didn’t move from his spot. We were both waiting. Listening. Watching.
A dozen more pieces of the treasure slid down on either side of me. I tensed, cursing internally.
The wyvern’s head swiveled. Its eyes locked onto the escaping silver coins and tiny precious stones. One huge paw stepped forward. His jagged teeth glistened in the firelight.
I held my breath as my pulse pattered against my ribs.
His nostrils flared. Slitted pupils narrowed to blades. Then his head turned away, scanning the rest of the room.
I resisted the urge to exhale in relief, and instead began to plan my escape. To my right, there were three large wooden bookshelves stuffed with bottles, tomes and candles. That might be my next hiding place.
My brain spun as I calculated my chances of running back up those stairs without being incinerated. Questions rose in my mind that I couldn’t answer. Why didn’t this dude meet me at the door? He’s the one who’d put in the report request. Why would he risk being in his shifter form when a Union employee promised to visit? Why was he in his lair when he’d scheduled me to come?
Horror seeped deeper into me. And why would a blazin’ shifter be calling the Union? They had the International Pack Corp. for things like this! Why ask a Union representative to come down?
Why ask for me?
I’d heard that some shifters break the humanity laws and consume supernaturals. Did the Union send me here as a sacrifice to him? Maybe he had dirt on the Union, so now, they deliver fresh meat to him on a schedule.
It’s not like I was anyone important.
Mr. Creed crept closer. His big claws dragged against the concrete floor with skin-tingling clicks and scrapes.
He paused. Those fist-sized nostrils flared once more, this time to an alarming size. And then that devil’s crimson gaze snapped back to me.
Fuck.
His jaws opened. Fire burst from his mouth. I pushed off the hoard mountain, dodging the flames just in time. I slipped on the treasure scattered across the floor, but caught my balance and made it behind the closest bookshelf.
The monster roared, but when I peeked around the bookshelf, he was searching. He was having trouble keeping track of me. Thank the underworld and all its demons.
If I could distract the wyvern, I could probably run up those stairs and make my escape. Still half exposed, I quickly scanned the contents of the shelves. Huh. The scrolls, I couldn’t use. The books wouldn’t help me either. But those bottles that looked suspiciously like potions? What would he do if I destroyed them?
I grabbed the nearest one.
Let’s see what this does.
I hurled it across the room. The glass shattered against the far wall and exploded.
Well, sweet mother of all things shit. The shifter had a collection of explosive potions! Fancy that!
He roared in fury and charged toward me, since I just revealed my hiding spot. Then he stopped when he realized the potion was now eating away at the wall.
And spreading closer to his hoard.
Oops. I was pretty sure I had just loosed magical explosive acid.
I grabbed several more bottles from the shelf. I was making a run for it and holding his gold hostage. If he threatened me, I’d throw another right at his precious collection.
As if he just read my mind, the enchanting Mr. Creed leapt in the air. His wings unfurled, and he landed before the staircase, blocking my escape.
This time, his eyes found me with ease. Shit. He was a fast learner, wasn’t he?
I was going to kill Marigold for this. What was she thinking, telling me to break into the home? I bet she did this on purpose.
The wyvern roared. The terrifying sound echoed in the chamber and this time, I did pee myself. Just a little.
My arms shook with the bottles. I palmed one and chucked it straight at the treasure.
Go save your precious gold now, little snakey!
The bottle erupted in a haze of purple. The smell hit me first. It carried hints of lemons, blackberry, and … sulfur.
I froze.
I had just released a magical airborne toxin, hadn’t I?