Page 53 of Saving the Last Heir
“Bro, I’m with you. No need to ask. You go to war? I go to war. It’s that simple. You call me whenever the prick tells you what you have to do next, and I’ll be there if you need me.”
I nearly sobbed in relief, but kept my composure. Christian could be a goofball, but there wasn’t a more loyal friend in the world.
“Thank you. I’ll let you know. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it won’t be as dangerous as the first one. Speaking of, I need to head out. Shyanne should have the car finished today, and I want to be there when she does.”
“Sounds good, man. You call me if you need me. You understand?”
“I understand.”
After hanging up, I sent a text to Tiana. She’d gone to Mexico two days ago. It was most likely a pointless endeavor, but we hadto chase every lead we could. An old rumor had swirled around for some time about a possible ancient breed of fungus that had been known to cure some of the worst diseases known to man. Some records showed it was the foundation for the old fountain of youth myths. I thought they were truly nothing but that—myths. Though when Tiana had read about a village near where the fungus grew in an old book in our library, she’d decided to go check on things.
Jackson:Any luck so far?
Tiana:It’s a bust. If those mushrooms ever DID grow here, they’re long extinct. You were right.
Sighing, I wondered how to make her feel better about such a wild goose chase.
Jackson:You did all you could. I’m proud of you for trying.
Tiana:Thanks. I appreciate that. I’m going to fly back this morning. I miss my girls.
After telling her to be careful, I slipped the phone into my pocket and stood. With everything happening, I wasn’t sure how I was going to stay sane. I was proud of my pack for putting in the work to try and help, but each time a door closed, there was an impending sense that we’d never succeed. At this point, we were basically chasing shadows while hoping and praying. With a dejected snarl, I grabbed my boots.
I snuck up to the roof because I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. I couldn’t comfort or console myself, much less my mother. It made me feel like a coward, but when I jumped into the air and shifted, I was positive I’d made the right decision. I needed some silence. Quiet, open sky, and wind was what a dragon needed to clear their head, and it worked.
By the time I arrived at Shyanne’s shop, I’d put the stress of the night before behind me, compartmentalizing it so that I could focus on the task at hand. I found a deserted spot to land and shift, then made my way to her garage.
The entire crew was already at work.
Brent glanced up as I entered and shoved a blond shock of hair from his face, accidentally smearing a streak of grease through it.
“Boss lady’s in the back with the Lambo,” he said with a grin and went back to work.
I found Shyanne in the paint room, standing to the side as Reggie went over the car with a small airbrush paint gun. She was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off the muscles of her arms, and a pair of overalls. Even dressed so casually, she still looked amazing enough to make me salivate, and I had to tear my eyes away when she turned to me.
“Morning.” Her dazzling white smile nearly making my knees unhinge.
“Good morning.” I nodded to Reggie. “What’s up?”
Shyanne sighed. “The only way to get this car ready in time was the way I told you last night. Fast-drying paint and heat lamps. Otherwise, it would have taken two days atminimum. The problem with a quick job like that, is there can be inconsistencies. The paint dries too fast, it might shrink and tear. Cosmetic issues. Reggie’s using the small air gun to go over them. I’m decent at it, but nowhere near as precise as Reggie is.”
“That’s right, girl,” Reggie said, keeping his eye on the task at hand. “Don’t you forget it. I got you, though. No worries.”
“Once he’s done, we’ll buff and polish,” she said.
I glanced down at her tool belt and frowned. A wrench was stuck through one of the loops, but it didn’t look like a working wrench. I’d seen it the day before, but I hadn’t had the chance to ask her about it.
“Whatisthat?” I asked, pointing at the wrench.
Shyanne glanced down and laughed as she pulled it free.
“This was my gift when I took over the shop. Dad gave it to me as sort of a baton. Passing the torch? You know?”
“Ah,” I said, nodding. “Symbolic rather than functional.”
“Oh no,” she said with a smile, and then flipped the wrench in the air. It pinwheeled once before the handle slapped into her hand again. “She’s functional, all right. The real deal, but I don’t use it. I like to keep her shiny. I’ve got a hundred other tools that can do the job. But symbolic? Yeah, I suppose so. Way more than you could imagine. It’s custom-made. Actually, Dad spentwaytoo much on it.”
“Uh…it’s just a wrench,” I said with a grin. “How much could it cost?”
