One of the scientists prepped an empty chamber, pressing buttons to cause the glass to lift up. Inside was a small concave stand. The other individual lifted the lid off the smaller container and reached her glove-protected hands into the thick liquid, pulling out . . . something oval.
‘What the fuck?’ Shamira thought. Whatever it was, it was quickly put onto the stand in the larger tube and the glass was lowered. Another few button presses and the tube began to fill with a liquid that was both chemical and magical in nature. Then the truck started up and began to turn. Shamira made a decision and, when it paused to let the warehouse doors open, she jumped back beneath it and let it carry her outside.
Banshee felt the weight of the car shift. She got out and, gun at the ready, popped the trunk. “You realize that you coming back out rather defeats the purpose of us trying to sneak in.”
“I think I got the picture,” Shamira said as she got out. “We need something with a bigger trunk. The spare tire is really not comfortable –”
“And now we return to the point,” Banshee said irritably. “What did you see?” She listened as Shamira gave a detailed description of what she had seen. “What did you think it was?”
“An egg,” Shamira muttered, her face showing her confusion. “It looked like a giant fucking egg.”
Just then, they got a phone call from Henry telling them to meet up at rendezvous point. As a standing joke, they always met at a Waffle House somewhere, and this time was no exception. Banshee and Shamira hurried over, moaning when they realized they were the last to arrive. Somehow, every Waffle House had a couple of uncomfortable seats at every table, so that was where the latecomers got to sit. Each team gave a quick rundown of what they had uncovered. Henry and Reaper had been tracking down businesses owned by Lacroix and listening to the local rumor mill as much as they could.
The local lord had been neglecting some of his smaller enterprises for some time, and he rarely had his enforcers actually do anything to protect the general public. Sebastian and Valeska had been watching Lacroix’s personal estate, noticing a relatively large number of guards for someone with the amount of territory that the vamp actually held under sway. Lacroix himself stayed holed up in his house, apparently sending his security chief Jonas to do the day to day operations.
Shamira finally got to tell what she had seen, which was met with skepticism and confusion. Henry figured it would be best to get Shane on the phone and talk to him. They called up the house and soon she was explaining everything again to a mini-conference of Shane, Clara, the Representative, and Lillian. There was some muttering in the background before Shamira interrupted.
“Clara, you said that you had a theory about this didn’t you? Does this make sense to you?” She waited for a moment, picturing her lover thinking.
“Is there anyone around to hear this?”
“I’ll turn the phone down, but there’s no one else nearby.”
“The geologist, the herpetologist, the areas that Lacroix is digging, and now this? I think . . . I think that was a petrified greater dragon egg.”
“What?” Banshee said, leaning in and being very intense. “Why would anyone do something like that? There has not been a greater dragon since –”
“Since before the pyramids were ever built,” the Representative added. “Only lesser dragons survived the Dragon Wars. Well, the lesser dragons and the spirit of Shadow Wing.”
It was Sebastian who noticed Shamira visibly blanch. The woman really did not like being reminded of Shadow Wing and her potential role in the legacy of the last Moon Dragon. “Okay,” he said, moving the conversation along, “Why would Lacroix be looking for old dragon eggs? There’s no way they could still be viable, could they?”
“The few times that old eggs have been found, they were nothing more than rock or shells. But for Lacroix to have spent this much time and energy . . . how many tubes did you see?”
“A couple dozen,” Shamira muttered. “About fifteen filled with that goo. And whatever that stuff was had some magic in it too, not just chemicals and crap. Damn, I should’ve tried to get samples.”
“You might have tipped our hand a bit early had you done so,” Shane said. “Though we will certainly want to investigate this further. The question remains, if he is attempting to hatch a dragon — ”
“We’re left wondering why,” Henry muttered.
“He wouldn’t want to use it as a weapon would he?” Valeska asked. “I mean, he’s completely unhinged and trying to take territory.”
Shamira furrowed her eyebrows. “That doesn’t follow though. From the sound of things, that would be WAY over the top. Once we go public, it wouldn’t be quite as insane, though it still sounds like hunting mosquitoes with a bazooka. But that’s a new idea, and he’s obviously been up to this for a while. And masterplanning usually isn’t a characteristic of drug addicts. BAD planning maybe, which this kind of is, but it’s also kind of involved.”
“Maybe he intended to go public with or without Tribunal approval? Or maybe he was just going to threaten Shane. Even one Greater Dragon would easily tip the balance of power.”
“But with several, he could threaten the Tribunal itself,” Sebastian whispered. Silence overtook all of them. Such an idea was unheard of, and revolutionary notions against the Tribunal were responded to with quick and generally painful death.
“Regardless, ” the Representative continued, “I want you to obtain one of those eggs and have it brought back here for study. Any word on the morning star trade?”
“Not yet,” Sebastian replied. “Lacroix never leaves his house.”
“But Jonas does,” Shamira almost whispered, and for a moment everyone stared at her. “What if we’ve been barking up the wrong tree? I mean, Jonas is the security chief, right? So any stray weres or magicals that come through report directly to him. He has to know what is going on, and maybe –”
“Maybe he’s even behind it?” Henry leaned back. “It’s worth looking into. Banshee, you and Shamira trail Jonas the next time he leaves the house. Sebastian and Valeska are going on an Easter-egg-from-hell hunt, and Reaper and I are going to start arranging for Shane’s remote enforcers to get down here. I think it’s time we turned the heat up under Lacroix.”
“Agreed,” Shane said solidly. “I’ll have Renata start making arrangements to move people down there.”
“Could we have Coramen warn her people?” Shamira asked. “If things are going to get hairy, they might want to be on their guard.”
“Good thinking. She wanted to go home for a bit and explain her new living situation anyway. Now she can help bolster the colony’s defenses as well.”
“New living situation?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes. Coramen will be joining the household. She has the skills and the . . . well, skills to be one of us. Very talented woman, which I’m sure she will be happy to explain herself the next time she sees you all. We’ll have to set up some new rules, but I think everyone will be happy with the arrangement.”
“She’s only four inches tall,” Reaper muttered. “How . . . never mind. I figure we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Assuming we all live through this.” Inwardly, Shamira was pleased. Like Reaper, she wasn’t sure how Coramen was going to be an active sexual part of the house, but weirder things had happened. Many of them had happened to Shamira.
“Oh, Clyde Pritchard has been invited to participate in this hunt. He was more than happy to volunteer his people after his altercation with Lacroix, and he has great influence in the were community. And,” Shane’s voice became amused, “he said that Shamira might appreciate the help. What exactly did you do that’s made him so interested in your approval?”
“I . . . he . . . it’s none of your . . . okay, he wants to date my sister.”
Everyone except Banshee started to snicker, and even the assassin’s lips started to quirk.
“I see,” Shane said after a moment of silence. “Does your sister –”
“He asked for permission to court her, that’s all. It’s still her call. And since when –”
Sebastian covered his friend’s mouth with his hand before she could start yelling at the boss. “We’ll be in touch.” He grinned as Shamira glared at him while he turned off the phone. “You heard the man. Let’s get to work.”
———- —————————-
A few hours before dawn . . .
———- —————————-
“It’s about fucking time,” Shamira bitched. “I thought this guy was never going anywhere.”
Banshee glared at her. “Yes, I am sure your time went by so much slower than mine, considering the hour long phone conversations with your sister and with Clara.”
Shamira suppressed a grin. “Total agony.”
“For one of us anyway.” Banshee made a point of cleaning out her ear with one fingertip. “Let us give chase.”
“Let us give chase,” Shamira mimicked childishly. “Who talks like that?” She started up the car.
“I am beginning to think that I liked you better when you were not speaking to me.”
Jonas headed northwest of Savannah, finally turning off to Dublin and seeking out one of the seedier areas of town. Jonas was driving alone, which meant that he was very secure or incredibly stupid. When he pulled into what appeared to be an abandoned garage, Shamira and Banshee could both briefly make out a number of police cruisers on the interior.
“Fuck!” Shamira hissed. “Just like the ones that pulled us over up north of Macon!”
“And the proverbial plot thickens,” Banshee replied.
“We can tie Jonas to the kidnapping attempts, now we just need to tie the kidnapping to the morning star trade.”