Page 10 of Red Dragon’s Heart

There were a few tense moments while Chisholm rattled the door of the office where Madeleine was hiding, holding her gun at the ready, but the reinforced door held. He saw her relax and blow out a big breath of air, as if relieved she hadn’t had to shoot anyone.

Maybe she preferred less hands-on methods of killing people? Or maybe she was just a lousy shot.

Chisholm moved on to the next room, appearing in the camera feed along with his six-member entourage. Two upper management, in suits, three security guards in combat gear—

And the one person who Zakerek hated as much or more than Madeleine Fox. A deceptively handsome fucker with chestnut hair and purple eyes, wearing a jeweled, collar-like necklace. He was a captive dragon who worked for Chisholm—and he was also the person who had shot Zakerek with the serum that had ruined his life.

The monster came alert inside him, and Zakerek barely suppressed a growl. Not now, he told it, though it never listened to him. It hated other dragons—it always tried to burst out and kill them. And Zakerek’s own emotions just fed into that berserker fury.

He breathed deeply. He couldn’t fuck this up—he had to hang onto his control until he finished the mission and had Madeleine Fox exactly where he wanted her.

And he might have to make his move sooner than he’d planned. The dragon might be under Chisholm’s control, but it still had its own innate magic—including a dragon’s immunity to most toxins. Which meant there was a 99% chance Madeleine Fox’s night was not going to go the way she’d planned.

Once inside the room, Chisholm immediately went over to the table, where the data drives were clearly visible in the left-hand compartment of the metal box, behind the plexiglass door. He tried sliding the door, but it was locked tight.

He looked around, obviously noting the cameras, and raised his voice to be clearly heard. “Maddie? I know you’re listening. I’m glad you finally decided to do the right thing, and return the data. I knew you wouldn’t really sell it to a foreign power.”

He heard her snort below him. She replied into her microphone, “I never intended to—and you know it. You were the one who was going to do that.”

Zakerek raised his eyebrows. Was that true? He wouldn’t put it past Chisholm, but it would put a different spin on what Fox was doing here, with the knockout gas. Or was she still just trying to pretend her innocence, for the camera?

Chisholm shook his head, looking sad and disappointed. “Still delusional, I see. You know there’s no such thing as shapeshifters.” He hesitated, then lifted his face to the cameras. “I still care about you, Maddie. You need help. Please come out from wherever you are, and let me help you.”

Zakerek barely kept himself from snorting. The guy was good—he’d give him that. He managed to sound sincere. But it was all for show, since the asshole was perfectly well aware that shifters existed.

He expected Madeleine to try to goad him into an admission, but instead she just said, “Did you bring the money?”

He looked pained. “Maddie, please. If I ever meant anything to you…”

That got a reaction—clenched teeth and a double middle finger at the two-way mirror. Chisholm couldn’t see it, but Zakerek did. She wasn’t buying his bullshit.

Or more likely, she never had cared about Chisholm.

As if to prove his thought, she said, “Show me the damn money, Eric.”

Looking annoyed, Chisholm gestured to the men in suits, each of whom was carrying an attaché case. They held them out, and he opened them one by one, showing her the rows of money inside—banded hundred-dollar bills.

She directed him to pull specific stacks of bills out and riffle through them, to show that the lower layers were also hundreds, and that the stacks didn’t have blank paper in the middle.

Then she said, “Put the briefcases in the box, one on top of the other.”

Chisholm shut the briefcases and complied.

She hit a button on the phone remote app she’d used to bolt her door earlier. With a whooshing sound, the plexiglass door slid across, blocking off the cash and making the hard drives accessible.

As Chisholm reached for the data drives, Madeleine’s grip tightened on the phone. Here we go, Zakerek thought. He got quietly into a crouch.

Madeleine hit two more buttons simultaneously. The door to the conference room slammed shut and bolted, and gas hissed out of the openings around the table edge.

Immediately the security team flung themselves against the door. It didn’t move. Chisholm was yelling, “What the hell? You bitch, what have you done?”

Madeleine said, “Revealed your true nature.”

Too late, Zakerek realized what she was really up to.

Chisholm’s face contorted, and his body began to bulge and shimmer. So did the others.

Holy hell. They didn’t just experiment on shifters—they were shifters, every damn one of them. And she knew it. Her gas was a chemical that created a forced Change. That’s what she was trying to get on video.