Free Charred Tears (#2, Heart of Fire) by Lizzy Ford Page A

figurines. “You just made a big mess.”
    Its growl turned to a low rumble. Leaning down, it plucked up one of the statues carefully between its teeth and tossed its head, flinging it into the air to her.
    Skylar caught it. “Another tiger. Great.” She closed her hand around it and counted to ten. When it began to move, she set it down and stepped away.
    The tiger picked up another and flung it to her.
    “No, you have to wait,” she said firmly. “I’ll fix all of them. But I came here to find someone.”
    Another growl.
    “Look, I deal with dragons normally. So you can throw a tantrum all you want, but you can’t beat a dragon’s hissy fit.”
    Its attention went to the other tiger, which was rapidly expanding in size.
    “I’m going down the hall and will be right back,” she continued, easing towards the doorway. “No more messes.”
    The tiger bared its teeth at her but didn’t otherwise object.
    Skylar didn’t release her breath until she was in the hallway, halfway to the front door. She tucked the tiger in her hand into her pocket for later and shook out her shoulders.
    Shifters really stress me out.
    With a deep breath, she glanced towards the door leading to the waiting SUV and then turned her back on it to follow the blood trail.
    Heart fluttering hard, she paused in front of the door where the maroon droplets led and pushed it open. A fan was on in the ornate ceiling of the private study, the only movement. There were no books in Caleb’s private office, just more figurines. They were lined up on shelves that ran along the walls. There was even one on his desk, separated from the rest in a round, glass container.
    There were dozens. Hundreds of shifters in here.
    She stared around her, overwhelmed by the idea that each of the figurines was alive. Dormant and tiny but living.
    What was Caleb doing with all of them?
    She went farther into the study, almost reaching the desk on the far side before spotting the first sign of what happened there earlier. Blood pooled under one side of the desk. Suspecting what she’d find, Skylar circled the desk with growing dread and stopped.
    “Oh, Caleb.” If the amount of blood wasn’t a giveaway of Caleb’s condition, then his ashen skin and blue lips were.
    Skylar knelt beside his body, struggling to determine what exactly happened. She and Mason hadn’t been separated that long, maybe ten minutes. She hadn’t heard any raised voices or sounds of furniture crashing around while in the library.
    They’d all been trained to kill and fight. The sight of blood disturbed her only because it belonged to someone she’d know for years. She looked over his wounds expertly.
    There were five neat, long slashes down his chest and his throat was torn out. Whatever knife Mason used had sliced easily through Caleb’s ribcage; the bones jutting out were smooth with no signs of sawing or chopping or hacking. She frowned.
    “It looks like an animal attack,” she said to herself, thoughts on the figurine in her pocket. The tiger in the library was huge – but its claws weren’t large enough to inflict the damage in front of her.
    A little queasy with the amount of blood, she rose in time to see someone enter.
    “Dillon!” she exclaimed.
    He seemed just as surprised, his dark eyes settling on her face.
    “Skylar?” he asked. “I thought some shifter grabbed you.”
    By the normal resentment in his tone, she guessed he didn’t yet know she was standing over the body of his dead father.
    “Yeah. Listen, Dillon, I need to tell you something,” she said, pitying her ex. He was an ass, but Caleb was still his father.
    “What’re you doing here?” he demanded. “Where’s my father?”
    “Well … he’s kind of dead.”
    Dillon stopped midstride and stared at her.
    “I mean, he is dead.” Way to be sensitive, Sky! She cursed at herself silently, uncertain what to do.
    His look turned to one of disbelief. He started forward again.
    “I’m so sorry,