he "sometimes" had "a couple of drinks on the job," he couldn't even remember the night I'd asked him about, or dragon shifters even ever coming into the bar at all on any night. A similar casual inquiry made to Christy didn't yield any results, either.
She told me that she'd become a bit too intoxicated on the night in question and had vomited behind one of the classic cars at the car show in the parking lot. The shifter she'd been trying to get into bed had ended up simply walking her to the house she shared with her sister and placing her under the care of her sister before leaving.
Completely frustrated, in addition to all the other emotions I was experiencing, I soon came to the conclusion that I might never be able to locate Desmond and inform him of my pregnancy. Not unless I wanted to personally visit a thousand dragon shifter groups all across the country, asking for a man named Desmond, which I didn't.
The task seemed like an impossible endeavor, also a highly embarrassing and time-consuming one, and besides, I had much bigger, more urgent problems, like specifically, my financial situation. With the closing of the gymnastics center, I not only lost my only source of income, I was also losing my incredible, full-coverage, zero-deductible health insurance within thirty days.
That had all been then . Back in the present, at Eloise's care home the day the government agents had come to take me to Chicago, I responded to Eloise's question about my baby's father by simply saying that no, he wouldn't be coming with me to Chicago. And I'll probably never be seeing him again , I thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
In response to what I'd said about my baby's father not coming with me to Chicago, Eloise frowned and started to say something else, but I cut her off, telling her that I had to go.
"I've got government agents waiting with a car."
Soon I was in the backseat of that car, sitting with Cynthia, the agent with platinum blonde hair, while her fellow female agent drove, and the lone male agent rode shotgun.
At first, none of them spoke, and neither did I, but once we'd passed Quincy city limits, Cynthia turned from looking at tall, sunlit trees and asked me if I'd experimented with my power at all since the day in the coffee shop.
I shrugged. "Not really. And that day in the coffee shop was just a complete fluke; I didn't even mean to do it. It just happened."
Cynthia nodded. "That's how gifts usually manifest...without the Gifted doing anything. But after that first time, a Gifted has to try to use her power."
"Well, I did once, for just a minute after I got home that day. Just by thinking about doing it and wanting it to happen, I shot a beam of light from my palm out my living room window and hit a tree in the courtyard behind my building. It made a little puff of smoke come from the tree trunk and I felt bad that I'd probably damaged the tree. After that, I decided that I probably shouldn't experiment with my power anymore for the time being, not wanting to accidentally hurt or damage anyone or anything in my building."
Cynthia nodded once. "I understand, and that was probably wise. In fact, since we were delayed in getting to you while we were making visits to other recently-discovered latent Gifteds around the country, I was hoping you were being judicious with using your power. Once you get settled into your new home in Chicago, it will be a lot safer for you to use it. Commander Grant actually has training facilities set up where Gifteds can safely practice their powers without fear of causing injury or destruction."
"Commander Grant?"
Cynthia frowned at me for just a split-second. "Oh, you must not be familiar. He's the leader of the Chicago dragon shifters, which is the largest group of dragon shifters in the nation. They call themselves the Destroyers, since of course, their job is to destroy Angels and hold Chicago for our
Claudia Christian and Morgan Grant Buchanan