Kayden stares at Verona, eyes wide in shock, Verona calmly staring right back at him as Garret collapses to the floor, head missing from the top of his eyebrows up, simply a cauterized, smoking flat surface of blackened flesh and meat. "Oh my gods..."

"You best pray harder, Kayden. Lest you wish to meet them." Verona says in a quiet, deadly tone. "Now... You're end of the deal. Address.... Work address... name... Bring me to her." He growls softly, and Kayden steps back and shudders.

"I-I can't... I only have her address and work address, I don't got a name!" He says, and then grins softly, something that seemed very out of character to Verona. "But he does..."

"Who is he? Give what you know, and I'll let-"

"You never realized?... How could you realize it, you don't know that Kayden has a twin brother." The male says calmly, grinning from ear to ear. "Kayden knew the moment he heard of you... that you were looking for her... He is already on his way to capture her... And even better?" He purrs, grinning ever wider. "Your previous employers are accompanying him..."

Verona's heart stops. "No..."

"Yes... The Airborne Special Forces of Russia. They left as soon as you hung up with Kayden." The Twin states, and Verona growls, stepping forward to grab him by the throat, eyes burning with hatred. To say the Dragon was awoken would be a understatement.

He was awake... like someone whacking him in the face with a shovel.

He grabs the male by the throat, yanking him to be merely milimeters between their faces. "You... are going... to die... if you... do not... tell me everything you know." He whispers, eyes locked with the mans, and he struggles weakly, before getting entranced by Verona's swirling purple eyes.

"I have the female's work address... She works here... And this is her living address..." He says quietly, slipping a piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to the other. Verona smiles a little, before the Kayden Twin suddenly starts choking, the Dragon dropping him from his grasp, a hole in the man's throat where his palm had been, a sort of bony spike jutting from Verona's hand, the spike melding back into his palm smoothly and he walks away from the male, reading the note as he did.

'150 W Elderwood... Chicago... What a lovely sounding place... I hope that they have room for a Dragon... and if not...' He thinks and smiles darkly. 'I'll make room.'

Within moments, the majestic dragon was airborne once more, streaking towards the sea. He easily blends into the deep black night skies overhead, and did so well that he in fact had to evade several small aircraft that flew in his path. He had to make it to Chicago. He could almost taste it. He had her. He had the girl that tormented his waking dreams, and ruled over his memories like a cruel queen to her subjects.

Within mere hours, Russian had fallen away, nothing but frothing grey water under him. The wind had taken a sharp chill, and gusts hammered away at the elder dragon. Verona shivered softly as he flew, closing his eyes and wishing that he could escape the cold, and let out a shaky breath of exhaustion. He could feel his body growing faintly numb from the cold, and turned his head downward, knowing it would hurt, but the warmth would keep him flying. He had to keep flying...

He opens his maw, and a gale of dark purple flames ripple from his throat, coating his under-side and legs in their hungered embrace, Verona groaning slightly at the sudden heat and gritting his fangs, snapping his maw closed and watching the steam waft off of him as he flew. He ignores the pain flaring through him as his scales smolder and hiss loudly in the freezing winds, eyes locked with the horizon.

Another hour goes by, and he sees lights ahead. He knew it to be Alaska, judging by the senses that his mind told him. He felt a strange power there. Dragons lived there, he knew it. Dragons much different than he, and it was best he left them unaware to his presence. He tilts his wings and angles away, sweeping down in a south-eastern direction, following his internal compass.

'Welcome to America, Verona... what took you so long?' He thinks to himself with a laugh. America, land of the American Dream, McDonalds, and the Home of Blues, Jazz, and Rock. Unrivaled influence of Film, and Song.

He oddly felt as if he were coming home after a very long journey, and for once, it was not a cruel smile that met his lips, but a warm, gentle smile graces them.

'Welcome home indeed... Next stop... Chicago.'

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Sorry its so short folks, I been uber busy. I'll make it up to Y'all next chapter.

LOVE Y'ALL~!

-Admin-o-rama