Holy Smokes (18 page)

“Do you see them?” I asked in a soft whisper that I knew Jim would hear.

“Nope.”

I crept down after it and peered carefully around the corner. The aerie was evidently build around a U shape, the hollow part being made up of a large open area that was dominated at one end by an absolutely gigantic fireplace, the kind big enough to roast a whole ox in one go.

There was no sign of life in the area, not so much as one single dragon lounging around on the thick, dark medieval-looking wood furniture.

“Where’d they go?” I asked Jim.

It shrugged.

“Hell.”

“Abaddon.”

“Will you stop correcting me! I know the difference!”

“Oh yeah? Is the Underworld contained in Hell or Abaddon?” it asked with a particularly annoying cock of its eyebrow.

I glared. “Don’t mess with me. There are pregnancy hormones flooding my body right this very minute, and you never know when they might cause me to spontaneously banish the nearest demon to the Akasha.”

Jim looked thoughtful. “Point taken.”

“Good. Now skinny along there and peek around the corner to see if you can see signs of Gabriel or the others. Or anyone else for that matter. But don’t get caught!”

“Stealth Newfie on duty!” it answered, saluting me before shuffling soundlessly down the hallway toward the large open area.

I held my breath as I clung to the rough-hewn stone corner, listening intently for sounds that Jim—or the others—had been found, but before I could begin to seriously worry, Jim returned.

“No one there. No Gabriel, no Maata, no Tipene…no one.”

A little chill skittered down my spine. “Are they just out scouting the area, or have they set us up?” I wondered aloud.

“Dunno. I’d think if this was a setup, though, you’d have been caught by now.”

“Good point.” I thought for a moment, then turned to look down the right side of the passageway. “Which means that either they’ve been caught, or they’re looking around. Either way, we’re running out of time. Someone is bound to notice those guards aren’t around, which means we need to get moving. Come on. We’ll try this way.”

“Uh, Ash? You sure you want to do this? Gabriel said to stay put.”

“And what happens if they don’t come back? I’d rather not just sit around helpless, thank you,” I whispered, making my way as silently as possible down the corridor.

“There is that.”

We came to another corner, leading along the flat bottom side of the U shape. Just as I was gathering up my nerve to peek around the corner, a man strolled around it, stopping to stare at us with as much surprise as we stared at him.

He blinked dark but unmistakably dragon eyes for a moment, his reflexes just a hair too slow. By the time his hand reached inside his jacket for a gun, I’d drawn silencing and binding wards on him.

“Oh, man. Now we’re really in for it,” Jim whispered, giving the dragon a worried eye as we slipped around both him and the corner. The hallway that stretched before us was almost identical to the one we’d just left, with the exception of four doors, two on either side. “How long are the wards going to hold?”

“Long enough,” I muttered, praying they would do just that. “We’re going to have to see what’s in these rooms. You know of any way to do that without opening the doors?”

Jim sighed. “I’m not the Guardian, now, am I?”

I smiled, patting the demon on its furry head. I was starting to get wise to its ways. Whenever it mentioned Guardianhood, I knew I had whatever skill was needed…the trouble was figuring out
which
skill that was. I ran over my mental list of my abilities, but didn’t find one that screamed “can see through doors.” It had to be the trusty old standby. I opened the mental door in my mind and looked at the nearest metal door with my enhanced vision, seeing nothing but a dense bit of metal. The door farther along the passage was the same—just a door. But when I turned to look at the door to my right, a ward flared to life for a second, the intricate knot that made up the ward glowing silver in the air before dissolving to nothing.

“If this door has been warded, there has to be something behind it that’s pretty important,” I said, bending down to examine the ward, which had been drawn around the door handle.

“Makes sense to me. What are you going to do about it?”

“I wish I knew how to unmake them like that girl we met last month.”

“The charmer? Yeah. Handy skill, that.”

I eyed the door and considered my options. I just didn’t have any left. “Gotta be brute force.”

“Oh, man,” Jim said as I gripped the doorknob. “This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

And it wasn’t. By the time I managed to wrestle the door open and shove us both through the ward guarding it, Jim had lost two booties, and my scarf had mysteriously disappeared. We looked around the small room that faced us, but there was nothing there but another dim light hanging over head, a broken wooden table lurking drunkenly in the corner, and yet another metal door.

“Crap,” I swore to myself as I faced the rather substantial padlock that hung heavily from the door. “OK. Nothing for it. Stand back, Jim.”

The demon retreated to the doorway we’d just come through as I took off my gloves, rubbing my hands while I focused on pulling power from the room. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t nearly as powerful as Drake’s fire—

Or mine.

—but it was enough to concentrate into a small ball of energy, which when hurtled into the lock, shattered it completely.

“Nice going. Let’s hope you didn’t just release a herd of maniacs who are going to leap out and chop you up into little bitty Guardian pieces,” Jim said cheerfully as I carefully opened the door and peered inside.

The smells hit me first, unwholesome odors that made me want to gag. But riding the stench was a scent that was totally different, one that made tears prick in my eyes as I flung the door open, throwing myself into the dark maw.

“Aisling!” Jim called as I lurched toward an ebony shape in the darkness.

“Drake!” I said at the same time, flinging myself on the shadow.

“Aisling?”

The black shape on the floor grunted as I flung myself on it, kissing every bit of him I could reach.

“What are you doing—
kincsem
, stop. That was my eyeball. What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”

Beneath me, Drake struggled to sit up.

“It was your clever dream, you brilliant man. Although I have to say, you could have just walked up and told me where you were rather than doing that symbolism thing. Oh, dear god, are you all right?” Faint little fingers of light from the room behind us stretched across a floor that appeared to be made of dirt and rock, covered in matted straw. “You feel all right? Does anything hurt on you? Are Pál and István here, too?”

“Yes, they’re here,” Drake answered, and beyond him, two pale faces hove into view. “We’re not hurt. What dream are you talking about? What symbolism?”

“The dream you sent me.” I swallowed back a painful lump of tears, unable to keep from patting Drake to reassure myself that he was all right. “Thank god we guessed right. Gabriel brought us here, but he’s disappeared.”

“Gabriel?” Drake’s eyes widened for a moment, the look of shock quickly fading to something that looked horribly like fear. “
Kincsem
, get up. We must get out of here, right now.”

“Oh, god. Don’t tell me—he’s behind this, isn’t he?” I said, scrambling to my feet, my heart dropping to my stomach.

“No. István, take Aisling. Pál, help me.”

“Help you with what? Are you hurt? And if Gabriel isn’t the one behind you being kidnapped, who is?”

“The time for questions is later,” István told me, limping toward me, his face dirty and bruised. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me after him toward the door.

I couldn’t argue with that reasoning, but I am nothing if not consistent—I argued. “Drake, what the hell is going on—and who’s that?”

An unfamiliar man emerged from the shadows, held up on either side by Drake and Pál, dirty, dark-haired and dark-eyed from what I could tell, but in far worse shape, his cheekbones pronounced, a gaunt, almost emaciated appearance to his face.

“His name is Konstantin,” Drake answered, using one hand to shove me toward the door at which István waited. “We do not have time for this. We must get out before Gabriel finds us.”

“I just hope you explain why you’re so afraid of Gabriel if he’s not the one who kidnapped you,” I told him as I followed István out the door. All three of them—four if you counted the fourth dragon named Konstantin—looked worse for wear, but I could see that other than some bruises and a layer of filth that would wash off, they were apparently un harmed. I wondered what Gabriel’s plan was in holding them, swearing at myself for being so foolish as to fall for his lies a second time.

Drake looked curiously at the door I’d blasted open, narrowing his eyes when faced with the outer door, the one with the powerful wards.

“This is going to hurt a bit,” I said, gathering my strength.

His lips thinned at the sight of the half-opened door. “There is no other way. Do what you must.”

It took me five minutes to get everyone through the ward. I wanted to leave the man named Konstantin for the last, but Drake insisted he go second, after István.

“He’s in pretty bad shape now,” I grunted, shoving Jim through the ward. “If I can weaken the ward a little by sending more people through it, it might be easier on him.”

“Do it now,” Drake ordered. “At all costs, Kostya must be freed.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t going to be pleasant,” I told the man as I put both hands on his back. I swung open my mental door and gathered together as much power as I could rally from the stone walls and floors, trying to shield the frail dragon as I shoved him through the ward.

He collapsed on the other side, but István was ready for him. Drake and Pál went through with just as much difficulty, both of them pale with the strain as I forced my way through the ward.

“That way,” I said, pointing a shaky hand to the left to indicate the way I’d initially come. “Jim, show them—oh, hell.”

“Abaddon,” it said, leaping on the dragon that rounded the corner. It was the man I’d bound and silenced, his yell echoing down the stone corridor as Drake grabbed his neck and slammed him against the rough wall.

The dragon slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. I said nothing as Drake held out his hand for me, skirting the unconscious dragon carefully.

I pulled back, however, at the door leading to the outside. “This is the way we came in, but Drake, we really need to talk for a minute.”

“We don’t have time,” he answered, opening the door. A blast of icy air whirled in through it. I put both hands on the door and closed it again.

“Your friend there isn’t dressed for a romp outside in the blizzard,” I said quietly. “Neither are you three. You might possibly survive, although I don’t know how even a dragon can tolerate exposure to such cold, but he won’t. He’s in bad shape now, and the climb down is going to be hairy.”

Drake hesitated.

“Sweetie, I know we don’t have time for a lengthy conversation, but you have to answer me one question—is Gabriel responsible for kidnapping you or not?”

“Not,” he answered, gesturing toward the crumpled body of the man at the far end of the hallway. “István, get his things. We’ll put them on Kostya.”

“If Gabriel isn’t our enemy, then we’ve got to find him. He can help us get down off the side of this mountain.”

“No,” he repeated, his jaw set with a familiar stubborn cast.

“Dammit, Drake! You just said he’s not our enemy!”

“I said he wasn’t responsible for kidnapping us—and he isn’t. But he is just about the deadliest enemy Kostya has, and above all else, Gabriel must not know of his existence.”

My mouth hung open a moment in surprise, but before I could ask what was going on, a piercing scream rent the air, dying off in a horrible gargle that hinted of a more permanent end than that of the dragon lying unconscious at the end of the hall. A man’s voice shouted, another answered, followed quickly by the sound of running feet.

Drake sprang to action, jerking a heavy nylon parka onto the man he called Kostya, turning to open the door. But be fore he could shove the other dragon through it, Gabriel and his bodyguards burst around the corner, running for their lives toward us. He yelled something and waved his arm, skidding to a halt as the injured dragon turned to face him.

“Kostya Fekete,” Gabriel said, his voice filled with shock. “You live.”

“As you see,” the other dragon answered, stumbling for ward as if to meet Gabriel, falling heavily with a pained grunt.

Drake bent to help him just as I did the same.

“Fekete?” I asked as we hauled him to his feet. “That means black, doesn’t it? This is a black dragon?”

Gabriel gave a sharp bark of laughter that held absolutely zero percent humor. Another shout echoed down the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Kostya. “I believe I’ve had enough of your hospitality. We are leaving.”

“As are we,” Drake said grimly, taking Kostya’s arm. “Aisling, stay close to me.”

“What’s going on here?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean
his
hospitality? The aerie belongs to Kostya? Who exactly is this guy? Someone you know?”

“You could say that,” Drake answered, opening the door. Snow and wind swirled through it, hitting me with enough force to steal my breath. “He’s my brother.”

“
I
will be all right. Thank you.”

I set down on the nightstand a carafe of water, bottle of aspirin, and bowl of ice. “Don’t mention it. I’ll have Suzanne send you up another bowl of soup in a few hours, after we know you can keep the first one down.”

“It will stay down,” the dragon said with a stubborn set of his jaw.

“My dear, do you not think a doctor is called for in this situation? Drake’s brother looks very ill, and although I’d never scoff at the healing power of homemade soup, I fear that even the most nourishing of meals won’t help him.”