The blow to the back of his head sent him hurtling into darkness.

Robin stared at the wreckage of Shane Joloun Dunne’s workshop and snarled. Blood, too much blood, tinted the concrete floor. Not all of it was the hybrid’s, but enough that Robin would have to keep Akane from entering the room. If the dragoness scented her mate’s blood splattered around the room she would go feral, uncontrollable until her mate was found and returned safely to her side.

Woe unto those who had harmed him, for dragons were fierce when it came to protecting their own.

He eyed the spot where his statue had been and stilled. Where once the ball of jagged metal and glass had stood was a new statue, one that had Robin swearing in several different languages. Upon a silver table, a figure made of gold and green glass writhed in agony. Fire somehow glittered in the glass man’s core, some trick of the light that, when Robin moved, disappeared from view. Dark tendrils drifted like smoke from the table and into the man’s body, the sight all too familiar to Robin’s eyes. The glass man’s mouth was open in a silent scream, one fist clenched around a golden, thorny rose, one petal poised to fall. Beneath the figure’s clenched fist rose petals littered the floor, black glass rimmed with faded gold. The figure’s other hand reached for something unseen, away from the agonized face.

Over it stood a figure in black, robed and hooded, like all cheesy villains were. But what chilled Robin to the core was the glowing green eyes in the face of the figure. Eyes he was intimately familiar with, for he saw them in his mirror every day.

Robin breathed, and the black figure shattered.

“Robin?”

He turned to find Sean Dunne standing behind him, the leprechaun’s fury a match for his own. Sean was staring at the shattered black glass, his expression unreadable, but beneath his feet the earth itself heaved. If Robin hadn’t been who he was he would have been knocked on his ass. As it was he almost staggered, startled anew at the strength the Dunne leprechauns showed.

“Where is my son?”

Robin allowed his claws out and grinned. “Good question.”

Akane rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, and her dragon was beyond upset. It took three tries to open her inner sight, her dragon was so upset.

When she did, she cried out in horror. Shane’s bright light was dimmed, barely visible to her inner eye. Blood matted his bright hair; his blue eyes were closed in what she prayed was simple sleep. She couldn’t tell where he was. It was dark, even to dragon eyes. She shrieked, her song of rage loud, her Seeming falling from her in tatters, her hybrid form unleashed at the knowledge that her mate was injured, possibly dying.

“Akane?”

She turned, the rage so strong Leo seemed bathed in ruby light. “They hurt him.”

“Who?” He grabbed hold of her arms, surprisingly strong for an almost full-blooded Sidhe. “Shane?”

She nodded, ripping out of his hold easily. She had to go, had to find Shane, had to stop them from hurting her mate. She needed to taste their blood, to rip into them, to feast on their pain until she was satisfied they’d never hurt Shane again.

“Akane, wait! Wait until Robin gets back, or call Jaden. Hell, get hold of Tristan if you like, but don’t go alone. If the Malmaynes have Shane he might be your best bet for getting him free!”

The need to hunt, to kill was so strong she was barely earthbound. She wanted to fly, to leave this place and kill the ones who had dared take her mate from her. Didn’t they know who she was, what she would do to them? They would lie dead before her, their carcasses rotting beneath her feet as she roared her triumph over them!

“Still thyself, Akane Russo.”

She froze, the music in that voice freezing her in her tracks. If Akane was pure vengeance, then that voice promised pure destruction, the seductive song speaking to the enraged dragon within her.

Robin Goodfellow, eyes blazing with green light, stepped out from the shadows. His black nails had grown to wicked talons. She glared at him and hissed; he kept her from finding her mate, but with those glowing eyes on her she had no choice. She was rooted to the spot, unable to move as the Hob enforced his command through sheer willpower.

And then Robin did something she hadn’t known was possible. Dragon song erupted from a non-dragon throat, sweet and stunning, drawing her to him with its power and majesty. Without thought she knelt at Robin’s feet, purring, her head resting against the Hob’s thigh in total submission to his will. If anyone could save her mate, it would be Robin.

His hand fell to her hair, stroking her, gentling her, not as a lover would but as a father, one who commanded her trust and obedience with a single glance, a muttered word. Only the knowledge that her mate was out there, alone and wounded, captured by an unknown enemy, kept the total peace he offered at bay.

“Holy fuck.”

She looked up through dazed eyes to find Leo staring at her in shock. “What did you do, Robin?”

“Called the little bird to hand.” Robin’s hand tightened briefly in her hair before resuming her stroking. “Your brother left a disturbing statue out, but I believe he intended his mate to find it rather than I.”

Leo gulped. Behind him, Ruby stirred, but Akane could barely bring herself to care. “What was it?”

The stroking stopped and Akane stopped purring. “Torture.”

The dragon stirred. Her mate was hurting.

Her mate was hurting.

Akane hurled herself from Robin’s side, the dragon’s wrath once more roused. She could smell blood on Robin.

Shane’s blood.

With a shriek she tore out of the mansion, uncaring that she remained in her hybrid form. Let the world think harpies had returned to plague them, because if Shane died it wouldn’t be far from the truth.

“That went well.” Robin sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed. “Akane will return to the studio and find her mate’s blood. She’ll hunt him down, and those who have taken him from her will pay the price.”

“You mean she’ll kill them.”

Robin turned to Leo Dunne. Sometimes the middle Dunne child seemed too innocent for what Robin feared was coming. “Yes.”

“Good.” Robin blinked in surprise as Leo reached behind him. He helped Ruby to her feet, holding her close. “But there’s something you should know.”

“Hmm?” Robin was still processing the fact that Leo wanted someone’s blood to spill.

“There are redcaps coming up the driveway, and Robin?” The fear in Leo’s eyes had his little mate whimpering. “They aren’t alone.”

Shane opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. The light from the overhead lamp damn near blinded him, the pain stabbing into his already throbbing head like dull spoons trying to gouge out his eyeballs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Joloun. I truly am. I hope you understand that this is nothing personal.”

“Sure it’s not.” Shane opened his eyes and stared at Mr. Klaussner, the pooka art dealer from New York. “I never got even a hint that you were Black Court.”

The little man, who used to wring his hands, merely grinned. “I’m good at what I do.” His eyes flashed an eerie, familiar green. “It’s what I was born for.”

Shane groaned. Great. Just great. Rumor had it that Robin, not exactly known for his celibacy, had fathered the rare child. It seemed Shane had accidentally met one of them. But if he was Robin’s child… “Was your mother human, by any chance?”

Klaussner snorted. “As if He would stoop so low as to cavort with a mortal.” The reverence in his voice when he spoke of Robin was undermined by the mad light in his eyes.