name on your license.”
“Well, that’s too bad, ain’t it, because that happens to be my real name.”
I doubted it, but it wasn’t a point worth arguing. “Why are you here in Red Rock?”
“Visiting kin.” He paused, and his features twisted again. This time, it was pure fury. “What the hell have you done to my flames?”
“Doused them. And unless you answer my questions, I’ll make damn sure you never flame again.”
His gaze met mine, his expression disbelieving and yet a touch fearful. “Draman haven’t got the skills to do that. Only dragons have.”
“And many dragons still believe that draman can’t fly or flame.” I shrugged and reached forward, as if to touch his skin. He jerked away from me and I let my hand drop. “Answer my questions and I’ll leave you restrained but alive. Or would you rather risk your flames—and your life—in the belief I might be lying?”
He swore under his breath, then said, “They don’t pay me enough for this sort of shit.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Some fellow named Franco. That’s all I know, I swear.”
“You contacted him through the Deca Dent nightclub?”
Ralph grunted, which I took for a yes. “I never went there,” he added. “It was all done by phone.”
“Is this the first town you’ve been sent to destroy?”
He frowned. “I ain’t here to destroy no town.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I’m here with the darting team.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Darting team?”
“Yeah. They wanted to capture some muerte that was causing them trouble.” He paused and gave me the evil eye. “As well as his bitch draman. Someone obviously forgot to warn us the bitch could fight.”
And suddenly Leon’s bravado made sense. He might have paid a hefty price, but he’d been setting us up all along. Red Rock was a trap, not a town slated for destruction. Which made me wonder if Leith’s people were okay. I had to hope so, because I couldn’t phone to find out—I didn’t have the time and there didn’t seem to be any reception in this valley.
“And what happened to the muerte?”
“No frigging sign of him.”
Relief rolled through me. At least he wasn’t captured. Or dead. But it did beg the question—why was he hiding? “How many of you are there?”
“Six.” He shrugged, the movement awkward. “I think it’s overkill. It’s only one dragon, after all.”
Obviously, no one had ever explained to this man just what a muerte was capable of. But then, I shouldn’t have been surprised—he was draman, after all. And I hadn’t known about the muerte, either, until recently.
“How long have you been here?”
“We got here before eleven. Just as well I can flame, I tell you, because it gets damn cold here at night.”
“So what did you do with all the people living here?”
“Oh, they were eliminated weeks ago. This was one of the first places we did.”
“What did you do with the bodies?”
“Buried them, of course. We didn’t want their kin knowing they were dead—not that most of them had kin who would even care.” He stopped and gave a nasty grin. “Do you have kin who will care when you die, little draman?”