Dragon Fall
Page 53
“You got me, chicky,” Jim said, rubbing his head on my leg. Unfortunately, that also meant the drool tendrils that swung from his furry lips had a landing zone. I shifted my look to the long, slimy ropes on my pant leg before cocking an eyebrow at him. “Heh. Sorry. Afraid that’s one of the downsides to having such a stunning form. I’m sure it’ll dry quickly.”
I sighed, fully engulfed in martyr mode. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m doomed, doomed, doomed.”
“Emo much?”
“Doomed with a smart-aleck demon. This just gets better.”
“Man, you are a Debbie Downer today.”
I straightened up and glared at him. “I am not! And if I was, I have every right to be one. I mean, look at the situation!”
“I am. It’s not so bad.”
“Are you insane? How can being locked in a cell in hell not be bad?”
“Abaddon, and you’re not thinking right.”
I squinted at him with suspicion. “What are you trying to say?”
“I told you what you were, right?” Jim stood up and stretched, then ambled over to the door to give it a sniff.
I thought. “You said I was emo and a Debbie Downer, which I’m absolutely not.”
“Not that, the other thing.”
I dug around in my memory. “Wyvern’s mate?”
Jim snuffled the bottom of the door. “And what does that mean?”
I chewed my lower lip again. “It means that Kostya and I are a couple, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Don’t give me that look—I know full well that you’re implying that Kostya will somehow feel obligated to rescue me, but that’s not very realistic. For one, he has stated more times than I can count that I’m not his mate, and he doesn’t want me even if I am. And unless I’m missing something, hell—fine, Abaddon—isn’t a place that’s likely to be easy to conduct a jailbreak. So even if Kostya did feel inclined to rescue us, I don’t see how he’s going to do it.”
“Dragons don’t like being parted from their mates,” Jim said with a little shrug, sitting down just out of range of the door. “And judging by the way that Slick goes for your boobies, I don’t see him washing his hands of you and going on his merry way.”
“I do have the ring,” I said thoughtfully, my spirits rising. “He can’t want that to fall into Asmodeus’s hands. Hmm. You might be right, Jim.”
“’Bout time someone finally admitted that,” Jim said, tipping his head to the side and looking back at the door.
I was about to ask him what he so obviously heard when the door suddenly burst into flame. I leaped to my feet and pulled Jim backward.
“Dragon fire!” I said excitedly, hope blossoming again within me. “You were right! Kostya is rescuing me!”
“Us.” He nudged my hand with his head.
“Yes, sorry, us, both of us.” I patted his head and almost did a dance of joy as the door, now burning merrily, started going black around the edges. If the door had been set alight with normal fire, Jim and I would have likely choked to death on the smoke, but with dragon fire, there was less smoke and more flames. “I wonder how long it’s going to take. I’d like to get out of here before Asmodeus realizes—Holy shish kebabs!”
As I spoke, a sudden whumping noise shook the door. A second followed, and on the third, the door collapsed inward, revealing Kostya.
With a half sob, half laugh, I flung myself at him, my heart filled with happiness at the sight and scent and feel of him. He caught me before I could topple him, spinning me around once and wrapping his arms around me with a muttered, “Aoife. You are not harmed?” before kissing the answer right off my tongue.
“When I heard you were taken, it was as if my heart were ripped from my chest,” he murmured against my lips, then suddenly pushed me back to examine me, the silver in his black irises glittering dangerously. “The red dragons did not hurt you, did they?”
“No, they didn’t. I’m fine,” I said shakily a moment later, when I could think again.
“I’m fine, too, although I’m more than a little weirded out that Eefs likes to see me in naked human form,” Jim said, sauntering through the still-burning door frame.
“Jim!”
“Just sayin’.” Jim turned his attention to Kostya. “Nice shiner, Slick. We going to get out of here, or what?”
“Shiner?” I pulled back enough to frown at Kostya’s face. “You have a black eye. Was that from Drake—”
“Yes,” he interrupted, pulling me down the hallway, not toward the stairs as I expected, but deeper into the cellar. “It matters not, however. We must leave now. The distractions will keep Asmodeus and his minions only so long.”
“What sort of distractions? The green dragons? They helped you?” Kostya was moving so fast, I had to trot to keep up with him. “That was nice of them.”
Kostya snorted. “I paid for that service, I assure you.”
“Drake charged you? Well, I have to say, that’s kind of mercenary. I mean, he is family—Whoa, what’s that?”
We had entered another cell, a slightly larger room, this one holding rusted pieces of what looked like medieval torture implements. I averted my gaze and instead gawked at a black, jagged rent that appeared to be floating in midair next to a thin man with slicked-back blond hair.
“It’s a tear in the fabric of space. Aisling ordered the demon to keep it open for us. Jim, you go first.”
“I have a name,” the blond man said with a sniff. “I am Amy, lord of twenty-six legions and servant to Ashtorath. Effrijim, I see you still insist on clinging to that motley form.”
“Motley?” Jim said, about ready to jump through the inky tear into nothingness. “Dude, you are clearly suffering from form envy. Get with the program. Let me walk you through a tour of all my magnificent points—”
Jim likely would have continued, but Kostya, with an annoyed click of his tongue, hefted Jim and tossed him through the gaping black tear in the fabric of space. Behind us, a horrible keening sound started, one that set my teeth on edge and made the skin on my arms crawl in horror.
“Go!” Kostya ordered, shoving me toward the black rent.
“All right, but I’m not leaving you here.” I grabbed his wrist and jumped, pulling him into the abyss with me.
I sighed, fully engulfed in martyr mode. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m doomed, doomed, doomed.”
“Emo much?”
“Doomed with a smart-aleck demon. This just gets better.”
“Man, you are a Debbie Downer today.”
I straightened up and glared at him. “I am not! And if I was, I have every right to be one. I mean, look at the situation!”
“I am. It’s not so bad.”
“Are you insane? How can being locked in a cell in hell not be bad?”
“Abaddon, and you’re not thinking right.”
I squinted at him with suspicion. “What are you trying to say?”
“I told you what you were, right?” Jim stood up and stretched, then ambled over to the door to give it a sniff.
I thought. “You said I was emo and a Debbie Downer, which I’m absolutely not.”
“Not that, the other thing.”
I dug around in my memory. “Wyvern’s mate?”
Jim snuffled the bottom of the door. “And what does that mean?”
I chewed my lower lip again. “It means that Kostya and I are a couple, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Don’t give me that look—I know full well that you’re implying that Kostya will somehow feel obligated to rescue me, but that’s not very realistic. For one, he has stated more times than I can count that I’m not his mate, and he doesn’t want me even if I am. And unless I’m missing something, hell—fine, Abaddon—isn’t a place that’s likely to be easy to conduct a jailbreak. So even if Kostya did feel inclined to rescue us, I don’t see how he’s going to do it.”
“Dragons don’t like being parted from their mates,” Jim said with a little shrug, sitting down just out of range of the door. “And judging by the way that Slick goes for your boobies, I don’t see him washing his hands of you and going on his merry way.”
“I do have the ring,” I said thoughtfully, my spirits rising. “He can’t want that to fall into Asmodeus’s hands. Hmm. You might be right, Jim.”
“’Bout time someone finally admitted that,” Jim said, tipping his head to the side and looking back at the door.
I was about to ask him what he so obviously heard when the door suddenly burst into flame. I leaped to my feet and pulled Jim backward.
“Dragon fire!” I said excitedly, hope blossoming again within me. “You were right! Kostya is rescuing me!”
“Us.” He nudged my hand with his head.
“Yes, sorry, us, both of us.” I patted his head and almost did a dance of joy as the door, now burning merrily, started going black around the edges. If the door had been set alight with normal fire, Jim and I would have likely choked to death on the smoke, but with dragon fire, there was less smoke and more flames. “I wonder how long it’s going to take. I’d like to get out of here before Asmodeus realizes—Holy shish kebabs!”
As I spoke, a sudden whumping noise shook the door. A second followed, and on the third, the door collapsed inward, revealing Kostya.
With a half sob, half laugh, I flung myself at him, my heart filled with happiness at the sight and scent and feel of him. He caught me before I could topple him, spinning me around once and wrapping his arms around me with a muttered, “Aoife. You are not harmed?” before kissing the answer right off my tongue.
“When I heard you were taken, it was as if my heart were ripped from my chest,” he murmured against my lips, then suddenly pushed me back to examine me, the silver in his black irises glittering dangerously. “The red dragons did not hurt you, did they?”
“No, they didn’t. I’m fine,” I said shakily a moment later, when I could think again.
“I’m fine, too, although I’m more than a little weirded out that Eefs likes to see me in naked human form,” Jim said, sauntering through the still-burning door frame.
“Jim!”
“Just sayin’.” Jim turned his attention to Kostya. “Nice shiner, Slick. We going to get out of here, or what?”
“Shiner?” I pulled back enough to frown at Kostya’s face. “You have a black eye. Was that from Drake—”
“Yes,” he interrupted, pulling me down the hallway, not toward the stairs as I expected, but deeper into the cellar. “It matters not, however. We must leave now. The distractions will keep Asmodeus and his minions only so long.”
“What sort of distractions? The green dragons? They helped you?” Kostya was moving so fast, I had to trot to keep up with him. “That was nice of them.”
Kostya snorted. “I paid for that service, I assure you.”
“Drake charged you? Well, I have to say, that’s kind of mercenary. I mean, he is family—Whoa, what’s that?”
We had entered another cell, a slightly larger room, this one holding rusted pieces of what looked like medieval torture implements. I averted my gaze and instead gawked at a black, jagged rent that appeared to be floating in midair next to a thin man with slicked-back blond hair.
“It’s a tear in the fabric of space. Aisling ordered the demon to keep it open for us. Jim, you go first.”
“I have a name,” the blond man said with a sniff. “I am Amy, lord of twenty-six legions and servant to Ashtorath. Effrijim, I see you still insist on clinging to that motley form.”
“Motley?” Jim said, about ready to jump through the inky tear into nothingness. “Dude, you are clearly suffering from form envy. Get with the program. Let me walk you through a tour of all my magnificent points—”
Jim likely would have continued, but Kostya, with an annoyed click of his tongue, hefted Jim and tossed him through the gaping black tear in the fabric of space. Behind us, a horrible keening sound started, one that set my teeth on edge and made the skin on my arms crawl in horror.
“Go!” Kostya ordered, shoving me toward the black rent.
“All right, but I’m not leaving you here.” I grabbed his wrist and jumped, pulling him into the abyss with me.
