Queen of Death

Chapter 14

Solana

Once we're far enough away that we're confident we haven't been followed, Tate and I shift out of our dragons mid-flight. He scoops me out of the air,  tucking me tightly against his body like he's done before, and flies us both back to safety.

"Where do we go from here?" I shout above the whipping winds.

"Home," he shouts back but it's not home that he brings us. He takes us deep into the heart of the city to an empty level of a parking garage where I'm surprised to find my bike sitting alone.

"What are we doing here and why is my bike here? What's going on?" The faintest tendrils of fear threaten to coil around me. I thought I could trust Tate and the guys, so far they've given me no reason to doubt them. But when Tate says we're going home and then brings me to an abandoned parking garage, more than a few alarm bells start to sing.

"We're going to drive home. Loudly and visibly. If anyone is watching our movements we want them to see us go home. Then from there we will shadow and fly to one of our safe houses." Tate says calmly as he slips my helmet over my head.

"Everyone goes to the same house?" I ask as a means to confirm that we're all going to be grouping back up together, that I won't have to wonder for much longer if everyone made it out in one piece. My newest concern is if they have more than one safe house then how will any of them know where the others will be?

Tate nods, "once we check in we'll know where to go. It'll make sense once we're home. They're all probably already there waiting for us, so stop distracting me." He grins, giving my ass a sharp slap of encouragement.

He positions himself behind me on my bike, content as ever with his hands planted securely around my waist. Electricity runs up my spine originating at his fingertips and ending in a heat rash that diffuses up my neck, over my shoulders, and across the front of my chest.

Just as he instructed, I make our exit from the garage loud and visible. We stick to main roads, not bothering with backstreets or tunnels, and when we pull up to their familiar little house I can't scramble off the bike fast enough.

All of their cars are in the driveway, the lights are on, the TV is playing, and someone is obviously cooking something delicious in the kitchen. But the men on the couch and in the kitchen are not mine.

I don't hesitate for a second. A dagger is flying towards the back of the intruder's head as silently as a hummingbird. Tate throws a blade of his own, knocking mine out of the lethal path to the guy's skull.

Tate binds my hands behind my back, using the knot to tug me close to his chest. Once the door is shut securely behind him he whispers lowly in my ear, "easy, pet. They're part of the crew."

He spins me to face him and walks me backwards further into the house. "Ace has them housesitting as decoys in case people come looking for us here. They've been here since the morning after the centennial."

I'm so focused on him that I barely register his fingers deftly undoing the binds around my wrists. He tucks the ribbons back into his pocket and peels his eyes away from me to check his phone. He makes no attempt to shield his text conversation with Ace from me.

On his screen I can see he sent a text to Ace as we were in transit here notifying him that we made it home, to which Ace replied "I'm shocked."

"Ready?" Tate asks me with darkening eyes and a smoky smooth voice.

"For what?" I ask, my frustration growing when he cocks his head to the side and grins at me like an idiot.

"To go to the safe house?" He says, like it's a crime to have misunderstood.

"Don't you need to know which safe house to go to?" I'm exasperated.