Free Dragon Rising by Jaime Rush Page A

very annoyed. “What in the hell are you thinking, that just ’cause you have some hot car, you can go as fast as you want?”
    “Officer, I appreciate that you’re going to give me a warning, because you made an error. I was only going sixty-five.”
    The man’s angry furrows on his face smoothed. “Yes, sir, and have a nice day.”
    He walked back to the cruiser, and Archer pulled away.
    “I wonder how much money they lose by you mesmerizing them.”
    “A couple thousand…a month.”
    Dragons could hypnotize somewhat, and yes, she’d used it to get out of a speeding ticket once. “Why do you speed all the time? Just because you can?”
    “Because it’s a safe thrill.”
    Ah, because metal and gears didn’t emit emotions, but only tempted a Caido into visceral thrills.
    Poor Muds, as good a job as they did, they had no idea what was going on in their city. Dragon fights, magick wars, and demon attacks, all beyond the scope of their law. And sight.
    Archer drove across the MacArthur Causeway and into a residential island neighborhood that had been developed before the age of enormous mansions. Tightness grew in her chest as she searched for the address. All she could think of was that dust on Jeremy’s floor. She had touched Archer’s wings, felt the light and energy emanating from them. The thought of them being torn from him—
    “Stop whatever it is you’re thinking. I know I told you not to repress your feelings, but right now I don’t need you worrying about me.”
    “Sorry.” She pointed to a gated entrance nearly hidden by thick, unruly trees. “There it is.”
    He rolled down his window, pressed the intercom, and identified himself to the person who answered. The gate slowly swung open.
    She looked from side to side as they drove through the arch. “I feel like we’re going to see the Wizard of Oz.”
    “Silva could potentially be much more dangerous. I think he’ll turn us down, but I’ll sense whether Jeremy, Anika, or your father are in the house.” He pulled up to the circular driveway with a defunct fountain in the center. This house looked a bit run-down, in need of paint and repairs. Mature vegetation sprawled over what was likely a double lot.
    Archer surprised her by taking her hand as they walked up the terraced steps. For show, in case Silva was watching them approach the double doors just beyond the Greek columns. His fingers sliding between hers gave her both a sense of security and a jolt of awareness.
    Before they reached the doors, they opened. A thin man with sharp features sized them up with ice-chip eyes, finding her distasteful, judging by the slight sneer of his elegant mouth. He didn’t have much more respect for Archer.
    “Come in.” Said with the most unwelcome tone.
    He led them across a marble floor in a foyer that went up two stories and contained a massive, curving staircase. The house had been spectacular many years ago, and in here, it tried valiantly to hold on to its former glory. The man directed them to a parlor that was cold in temperature and design.
    “Silva will be with you shortly.”
    The doors closed with an ominous thud . Archer had warned her not to say anything incriminating once in the house. They also had to be ready in case Silva suspected they were the very two people he’d targeted. If he was the enemy.
    Archer wandered the room, pretending to admire the abstract artwork. She knew he was probing for energies. His body stiffened, and he slanted her a look and a nod. He’d felt something. Someone. Her fingers curled into fists, and her Dragon trembled. She was hoping to find her pop here and terrified to find him here, too.
    Pop? she mouthed.
    The door opened, and a man who looked to be in his midtwenties entered. With Crescents, that guess didn’t count for much, as they aged slowly once they reached puberty. He wore the tight kind of shirt and black pants a bodybuilder might don, his black hair brushed back from his face. His steel-blue