Kissed by Eternity (11 page)

"Is that even possible?" he asked.

I shrugged, snuggling into my seat. "I wouldn't have thought so. The Marid, at least, can actually control my powers. So I can't see what I can do. I am able to control the Queen's Guard and some of the other Sidhe, but that won't do us any good, either. I did threaten her, though."

"Oh, good gods, Morgan." Trevor held his hand over his eyes as if he had a headache. Probably he did. I had that effect on people.

"You didn't tell me that," Inigo's voice was very, very calm, but his eyes had turned completely gold.

"Oops." The engines whined, and the plane began to move down the runway.

"Oops? What do you mean, 'oops'?" His eyes were narrowed but I could still see a gold shimmer in the slit between his lids.

"I agree," Trevor said, leaning forward. "What exactly do you mean by 'oops'? You can't just not tell us about these things. Threating the Queen of the Sidhe? That's three steps over into insane."

"Maybe." Couldn't say I entirely disagreed with him. "But she threatened Inigo. She threatened my family. Everyone I love. I am not about to let that happen. She can just back the fuck off. She knows what I can do now, and she knows what'll happen if she messes with any of you."

"Oh, good lord." Trevor sank back in his seat as the plane lifted off.

"What?" I asked.

Inigo sighed and stroked one finger down my cheek. His eyes were back to blue. "That's my girl."

Truly they were annoying me. I proceeded to ignore them for the next two and a half hours. Unfortunately, once we touched down, I had to go back to being nice to them.

Inigo insisted on staying with the plane.

"Why?" I asked. "Trevor will get you in, just like he did me."

"Uh, not exactly," Trevor admitted.

I stared at him. "Why not?"

"I'm a dragon," Inigo said, as if that explained everything.

"But you don't look like one."

"We've got sensors on base that let us know when a non-human is present. The guards would be on him the minute he stepped inside."

I frowned. "They've never gone off on me."

"You're still human. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

He smiled grimly. "I was able to recalibrate the sensors so they don't detect Atlantean DNA. Otherwise you and I would set them off, too."

Oh, goody.

"I'll be fine, Morgan," Inigo insisted as the pilot brought out a freaking folding lawn chair and set it up in the shade under one of the wings. Where the hell had that been stored? "I'm going to kick back and soak up some sun." He gave me a lazy smile. I was tempted to make a crack about lizards, but instead I gave him a quick peck on the lips before following Trevor across the tarmac. Heat was already shimmering off it in waves, and within three steps I was feeling hot, grumpy, and dehydrated. Even my eyeballs felt shriveled.

As we stepped inside the building that housed the "special" prisoners, I gave a sigh of relief. It was like walking into a refrigeration unit. Now all I needed was some ice cold water, and I'd be good to go.

"Agent Daly. Nice to see you again, sir. Ms. Bailey, ma'am." The guard on duty greeted us with a wide smile across his freckled face.

"Roberts, I thought I told you not to call me ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am. Er, Ms. Bailey. Uh, Morgan." He flushed red and quickly turned to Trevor. "You here to see the colonel, sir?"

"Actually, Roberts, I need to see one of your prisoners. Brent Darroch."

"Oh, of course, sir. I'll take you down." He spoke into his earpiece, and within minutes another guard was taking his place. He was built just like Roberts and had the same earnest expression, only instead of reddish brown hair and freckles, he looked like he'd stepped off the shores of Hawaii and exchanged a surfboard for a 9mm. His black hair was buzzed within an inch of its life, and his dark eyes shone eagerly in his round face. His nametag read Pahia.

Roberts led us through the now familiar gray corridors of Area 51. Somebody had changed the elevator music to what sounded like a Muzak version of one of those hideous children's show theme songs from the '90s. Something with dinosaurs.

"Is that—?"

Roberts grimaced. "Yeah."

"Is it some kind of punishment?"

"Er, one of the guys did it as a joke, and now the colonel is making us listen to it for a month."

"Dear gods."

"Yeah."

Trevor smirked quietly in the corner. Finally the torture ride was over, and Roberts ushered us into the bright, white world of the prison. Darroch was in a different cage from the last time we'd visited, probably because he'd managed to break out of the last one, thanks to Morgana and her magic portals. We'd been assured the new cages were portal- proof. At least until Alister disappeared. Portal-proof, my ass.

We hurried through the airlock and into the inner room that housed Darroch's cage. Roberts stopped so suddenly, I literally crashed into his back. Trevor stepped on my heel, causing me to wince.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, trying to peer around us.

"Uh, sir. Uh, that, sir." Roberts stepped aside to let us see.

Lying in the middle of the clear glass cage was the huddled form of Brent Darroch. Around him spread a pool of dark red blood.

Chapter 14

"Fuck," Trevor said with feeling.

Roberts said nothing. He marched over and slapped the alarm button near the door. Immediately the wail of sirens echoed through the hallowed halls of Area 51. I grimaced as the sound tortured my already delicate eardrums.

"Can't you shut that thing off in here at least?" I shouted over the wail.

Roberts hit a smaller button, and the siren died, though I could still hear it out in the corridor.

We stared at the scene before us. Arterial spray covered every wall of the eight by ten cage. Whoever killed him had bled him dry.

I stepped closer, eyeing the body through the thick glass. It wasn't glass, of course, but something high tech and unbreakable. Impenetrable. Except something had penetrated it. There were no weapons anywhere inside the cube. I knelt to look at the body. There was so much blood, it was hard to tell, but it looked like he had been stabbed repeatedly.

The door whooshed open and the colonel strode in. I'd met him, but he ignored me, focusing on my brother.

"Report," Trevor ordered.

"Sir," the colonel nodded. "I personally checked the surveillance video."

"And?"

"Nothing. The guard on duty also claims he saw nothing."

"Well, surely you have images of Darroch lying dead."

The colonel shook his head. "No, sir. The video feed shows him alive and well."

"Your video sure is unreliable," I said dryly.

The colonel whirled on me. "Excuse me? I don't think I heard you."

"Oh, you heard me fine," I snapped, straightening. "The last two times people have escaped from this facility, one of them the victim here, your videos have shown nothing. And now you've got a prisoner dead, and yet mysteriously, once again, your surveillance shows nothing."

He stepped closer, his jaw clenched. His face turned beet red all the way up and over his bald head. He puffed out his chest in a clear attempt at intimidation. Asshole obviously thought he was dealing with an ordinary woman. He had no idea I was strong enough to take him out with a single blow. Bastard. "What are you saying, girl?"

"That's Ms. Bailey, to you.
Hunter
if you prefer." I made sure to emphasize my title. You didn't get to be a Hunter for the SRA unless you could kicked some serious ass, and the colonel knew it. "What I'm saying is this is either the most corrupt prison I've ever been in, or the most incompetent."

The colonel grew purple with rage. I could have sworn he was about to hit me. The Darkness inside me laughed, excited by the prospect. Fortunately for him, Trevor stepped in.

"Colonel, I am going to call in my people to do a full audit and inspection of the surveillance systems and the guards. They will also be in charge of the murder investigation. In the meantime, I need access to the cell."

I could have sworn the colonel's face grew even purpler. If he wasn't careful, he was going to keel over from a stroke. He gave a short nod and marched out the door, barking, "Roberts. Let 'em in."

Roberts's freckles stood out even more than usual against his unnaturally pale skin. His eyes were wide as saucers. "Yes, sir!" he shouted after the colonel, then opened the cell for us.

I stepped inside, and that was all I needed. Beneath the copper tang of spilled blood was the scent of greenery and something darker, something rotten. And it didn't come from the body.

"Morgana."

# # #

"You're sure it was the queen?' Trevor asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. I noted he didn't say her name out loud. I was the only one brave or crazy enough to do that.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, leaning back in my comfy seat. We were on the plane, headed home, and I couldn't get out of Area 51 fast enough. If the SRA didn't replace that colonel fast, I'd be writing a strongly written letter. Or detonating a thermonuclear can of whoop-ass.

Trevor had called his people before we left. I wondered at leaving the colonel running amok without supervision, but Trevor knew what he was doing. I had bigger things to worry about.

I took another deep draft from my ice cold water bottle. I felt drained from the heat of the desert. Even my clothes looked wilted. Trevor, on the other hand, still looked perfectly pressed and polished, as if the heat hadn't affected him in the slightest. As long as he left his sunglasses on so you couldn't see his exhaustion.

"So much for portal-proof prison cells," Inigo said.

I nodded. "Only way to get in there. She is the only one who could have opened the portal. No one else carries quite that stench, and no one else but me, and maybe Emory, can open a portal from the Otherworld anyway. The queen would have to have been really mad to stab him that many times."

"Or just crazy," Trevor pointed out.

"Or both," Inigo chimed in.

"Thank you," I said dryly. "I doubt I could have figured that out on my own."

"Your sarcasm is noted," Trevor said. Inigo grinned at me.

"But why?" I mulled, leaning back to stare at the top of the cabin. "Why would Morgana kill Darroch? Why would she care? She'd already used him for what she needed and thrown him away. He didn't matter anymore. Why go the extra mile?"

"Revenge, maybe?" Trevor suggested.

"What could he have done to piss her off that much? I mean, that's some serious overkill."

"Maybe someone asked her to do it," Inigo suggested.

"I don't know," Trevor said. "It seemed more personal than that. Besides, the queen isn't one to play errand girl."

"Unless Alister and the queen are in on it together," I mused.

"How would that make a difference?"

"Because then the queen likely didn't kill Darroch. She just opened the portal. Alister Jones killed Brent Darroch, and it was very, very personal."

"Shit," Trevor muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Darroch ratted him out to save his own hide. Not to mention his backdoor dealings with the queen."

I nodded. "He tried to snatch the power of the amulet from under Alister's nose. That would have pissed him off big time. Not to mention what he and the queen got up to with Jade."

"But why kill Darroch and not do anything about the queen?"

"Because he can't kill her. She'd be more likely to kill him, and Alister isn't a stupid man. He knows she can be useful to him
if
he can work the right angle on her."

"Alister Jones is a smooth talker," Inigo admitted. "I should know." They were distantly related in a weird, roundabout sort of way. Still, Alister had tried to exterminate the entire dragon race. I wasn't entirely sure he wasn't through with that plan.

"Shit," I said, "We need to find him."

"How?" Trevor asked. "You already looked for him in the Otherworld, and you can't find him by scrying. Maybe you should focus on this war between the djinn and the Sidhe. Stopping it should be the priority right now."

"It is my priority, but all of this is related somehow. I can feel it in my bones. If we can stop Alister, I think we can stop the war." I shook my head. "Alister has an endgame. And while I still don't know what it is, I know it requires him to be here, in our world. It requires help from the queen. And he needs something else, something he doesn't have yet."

"How do you know that?" Inigo asked.

"Because otherwise he would have already used the grimoire, and we would be dead."

# # #

With no other leads, I decided to call on Cordelia the minute we got back to Portland. Trevor was only marginally mollified by my assurances that stopping Alister would also stop the war, but he returned to the high desert without complaint. When we landed, he'd had a message from Tommy the dome was still holding, but a few cracks were beginning to show.

"How long do you think it will hold?" he'd asked me.

I'd had no idea, of course. This was sort of my first ice dome adventure. Anything could happen. "Just let me know when the cracks get worse. Maybe I can re-ice it." I wasn't at all sure I could do any such thing, but I figured I could give it a shot if I needed to. For now I really needed to find Alister Jones.

"Morgan!" Cordelia threw open the door of her apartment as I raised my fist to knock. "Bastet told me you were on the way. I baked cookies."

"Really?" Cordy had never seemed the cookie-baking type.

She giggled, her cornflower blue eyes sparkling. "Well, I opened a tub of cookie dough, slapped it on a tray, and baked it. Does that count? They're organic."

"Sure," I said with a grin. "That counts."

"Come on in." She waved me inside. "Have a seat in the living room, and I'll finish the tea." She drifted off down the hall in a swirl of bright red satin. Today's kimono had tiny dragons embroidered all over it.

I edged through a hallway made narrow by ceiling-high bookshelves lined with hardbacks with titles like
The Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures, Poisons from Your Garden,
and
How to Talk to Your Gifted Cat
. There were also plenty of paperbacks sporting images of half-naked men and titles like
For the Love of the Dragon King
and
The Mercenary Playboy's Mistress.
I'd never realized Cordelia had a fondness for romance novels. Something we had in common.