Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

good-for-nothing assholes sat on their aristocratic duffs, protecting their own interests while doing little to help the race. Christ, they had no clue what happened in the real world…the one outside the cushy, privileged society in which they existed.
    Dealing with them was like talking to someone who lived in a bubble. Sound got through, sure. But it was just a whole lot of Charlie Brown… wah-wah-wah—wah-wah.
    None of that mattered, though. Not in the long run, because however much Rikar wanted to kick the whole lot of them to the curb, The Gathering couldn’t be ignored. All of Dragonkind revered the celebratory tradition. To not send a representative was akin to treason. So, Haider and Gage had made the trip. Now, all of them sat on pins and needles, praying the pair not only arrived safely, but made it back in one piece.
    The heavy clip of footfalls sounded in the corridor.
    Rikar shifted in his seat, releasing some of his tension. “About time.”
    Sloan jogged into the kitchen, red file folders tucked under his arm. The male threw him a dirty look. “Heard that, asshole.”
    “Can’t take the heat? Be on time.”
    Sloan’s dark gaze narrowed on him. “Get off my dick, Rikar.”
    Keeping his mouth closed, he bit down on a grin. Thank Christ for the dark-skinned SOB. Razzing Sloan always improved his mood. Though one look at B’s expression told him to lay off.
    “Sloan, whatcha got?” Bastian shifted the baby to his other shoulder.
    Poor little guy squawked, the sound pissed off with a dash of I-Want-My-Mommy. Which had pretty much been his MO all day…fussy with a capital F. They’d each taken a turn feeding him, walking him with the bouncing rhythm he seemed to like. Well, almost everyone had taken the baby out for a spin. Wick didn’t make the cut. No one trusted the male anywhere near an infant.
    Their resident computer genius—hacker of impenetrable databases—tossed the file folders onto the center of the island. Red card stock slid across white marble, bumping into the maple syrup pitcher. “Trouble.”
    Venom reached for one of the files. “The normal amount or the oh-my-God-hide-the-kids kind?”
    “The SPD kind.”
    “Fuck,” he and Bastian said at the same time.
    “Yeah, we got a pair of detectives up our ass.” Flipping a chair backwards, Sloan slid onto the seat, forearms folded on the rounded chair back. “Three unsolved murders…all females, dark hair, early twenties. Cause of death…catastrophic organ failure.”
    Another round of “fucks” took a turn around the kitchen.
    Sloan kept talking. “Oh and here’s the best part. Ash piles laid out next to the victims. Wanna take a guess what that means?”
    Bastian growled. The infant reacted with a startled cry. With a curse, B started pacing, up and back between the island and the bank of wall cabinets. As he patted the little guy’s bottom to soothe him, B switched up his tone and murmured, “Ivar.”
    “Yeah, that’s my guess, too,” Sloan said. “I think it’s a message.”
    “A big ‘fuck you’?” The second folder in his hand, Rikar scanned the contents, picking up the detectives names: Ian MacCord and Angela Keen. He looked at their pics and bios. Huh, both homicide veterans. And hmm. The female was gorgeous, with dark red hair and intelligent hazel eyes. “You think he’s that stupid? If he’s leaving ash, he’s taking one hell of a risk. If the humans get samples into the lab, they might find more than human DNA.”
    Venom sighed. “We’re gonna need to clean this up.”
    “I’ll do it,” Rikar said, grabbing onto his escape hatch. No way was he staying home tonight.
    “You sure?” Bastian’s eyes narrowed, drilling him with a glare as he walked past with the kid.
    Rikar nodded, smoothing his expression to hide his reaction. He hated when B gave him “the look.” It was like getting nailed in the grill by a wrecking ball. “Hit the lab, scramble the results. Find the detectives and scrub ’em. No sweat.”
    His best friend eyeballed him for a second and then switched gears. “All right. Here’s the plan. Wick, you’re going out with me tonight. Venom and Sloan…pair up. And Rikar…do what you need to do, then get your ass back here. You took a hit last night. No fighting until you’re one hundred percent.”
    Fucking hell. He’d just had his wings clipped.
    Even so, Rikar kept his yap shut. If he argued, B would ground him for sure. And while the situation was less than