Me and My Shadow
Page 31
“He underestimated it, however,” I said to Cyrene as we sat huddled in a police car some eleven hours later. “It blew out the walls of the houses on either side, too. I hope they find the two cats belonging to the old lady who lives next door.”
“And her fish,” Cyrene said, hugging the blanket that was the only thing between her bare skin and everyone else. “I feel so bad about the fish. What was Baltic thinking trying to blow us up like that? He knew we wouldn’t be killed.”
“No, but we’re vulnerable now,” I said in a hushed voice as yet another policeman bustled past, talking into her radio and carrying a clipboard. “We don’t have a stronghold to keep him at bay, and he knows it. We’ll have to set up camp at a hotel or find another house. But even that—it wouldn’t be safe against Baltic. Not until we’ve had some time to put in security systems.”
“I know a house that’s safe from Baltic,” Cy said, yawning.
“Really? Where?”
“That yummy Drake. I bet he’d take us in if you asked nicely.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. And really, why should I protest? As I thought the idea over, I realized just how sound it was. Drake’s house was sure to be protected from unauthorized entrance. Not only that, we’d have the power of the green dragons to help in case Baltic might, somehow, make it into the house. There really was no downside to the idea.
“Congratulations, Cy,” I said, pulling out my cell phone to call Gabriel again. “You’ve had your first good idea. I’m so proud of you, I’ve got tears in my eyes.”
“That’s what you said the last time I had a good idea,” she said smugly.
“Way back in 1922. You may want to pace yourself just in case you overload your brain,” I said with a dead-pan face.
Regardless of my joking, it was a good idea, and although Gabriel approved of the plan, he did sound somewhat worried. “Drake will not allow harm to come to you, but I don’t like you being under his roof for any length of time.”
“Worried I’ll succumb to his charms?” I teased.
“Not in the least. Aisling would turn you into a slug or something equally unappealing if you so much as laid a finger on him. I’m more concerned about what reaction the shard will have after a prolonged exposure to him. They are not your sept, but the shard might not recognize that fact, and may force you to act in a way that is . . . er . . .”
“Illicit?”
“Inappropriate,” he said. “As for your first question, no, we have not found Fiat, although I believe his trail is fresh. I hope to have him by the morning.”
“I miss you,” I told him, glancing around to make sure I wouldn’t be overheard. “I miss you a lot.”
“And I you, little bird. But now I must go. We are taking portals to our destination in order to conserve time, and you know how they discompose me.”
“Bon voyage,” I said, smiling at the memory of how rumpled portals made Gabriel and the other dragons feel. “Wish me luck with the police. So far, they believe the story of an unexplained bombing, but that has much to do with Cyrene hysterically recounting a tale of a militant extremist boyfriend.”
“I should have been an actress,” Cyrene said with a smug look on her face. “I really am good.”
It took another two and a half hours before the police, firemen, and emergency services people were willing to release us. As I surveyed the wreckage of Gabriel’s rented house, I didn’t blame the police for wondering how we’d all survived unscathed. The other silver dragons who had been present when Baltic made his midnight second assault had left on my advice—I felt we had a better chance at glossing over any trouble points the mortal police might raise with only a couple of us to be explained.
“Jim, you can talk, but if you bitch at me one more time, I will do something extremely unpleasant to you,” I told the demon as we slumped into the back of a sleek black BMW, Nathaniel behind the wheel.
“Like being hit on the head by a chair as it flew out the window?” it quipped. “How about losing the hair on half of my head? Or making all my whiskers drop out? Oh, I have it—how about pointing out the fact that I was almost blown to smithereens a couple hours after I returned to you?”
I lifted a finger. “Anything more?”
“No, sheesh. It’s not worth getting banished over. My magnificent coat will grow back, even if I look like a leper until then. I wonder if they make prosthetic whiskers?”
“I’m sorry about your hair and whiskers. You don’t look like a leper,” I said, averting my eyes from the singed side of its head. “And I told you I’d take you to be groomed as soon as possible. I owe you something after you found those two cats for the lady next door. Although you didn’t have to drool on them quite so much.”
“Eh. It was no biggie. Those cats were too bony, anyway. They wouldn’t have made a proper meal.”
“You made Mrs. Patterson deliriously happy by finding them; that is counting heavily in your favor,” I said, patting it on the furry side of its head. “But don’t push it. It’s been a long day for all of us.”
“Yeah.” Jim slumped for a moment, then perked up. “I can’t wait to see the look on Drake’s face when we all come trooping in and tell him Baltic blew up your house. He’s going to be torqued.”
“I just wish we’d been able to find Magoth,” I answered, more worried over the missing demon lord than about Drake. “I wonder where he got to? He couldn’t have been hurt, could he? He’s not technically a demon lord anymore. He’s not really anything.”
“Just immortal,” Jim agreed. “If you didn’t find his severed head, oozing and smoking and covered in guck, then he’s alive somewhere. Probably got the hell out of Dodge while the getting was good.”
“I wish I’d thought of doing that,” Cyrene grumbled, pulling the blanket tighter over her chest when Jim ogled her mostly visible breasts.
I don’t know how most people would react to a small army of dragons showing up on their doorstep, but Drake was completely unconcerned . . . until Aisling hauled herself downstairs to find out what was going on.
“Judging by the fact that Jim’s coat—what remains of it—is smoking, Cyrene appears to be naked under a blanket, Maata is walking crooked, and May is wearing nothing but one of what I assume is Gabriel’s shirts, I gather something happened over at Chez Silver Dragons.”
“And her fish,” Cyrene said, hugging the blanket that was the only thing between her bare skin and everyone else. “I feel so bad about the fish. What was Baltic thinking trying to blow us up like that? He knew we wouldn’t be killed.”
“No, but we’re vulnerable now,” I said in a hushed voice as yet another policeman bustled past, talking into her radio and carrying a clipboard. “We don’t have a stronghold to keep him at bay, and he knows it. We’ll have to set up camp at a hotel or find another house. But even that—it wouldn’t be safe against Baltic. Not until we’ve had some time to put in security systems.”
“I know a house that’s safe from Baltic,” Cy said, yawning.
“Really? Where?”
“That yummy Drake. I bet he’d take us in if you asked nicely.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. And really, why should I protest? As I thought the idea over, I realized just how sound it was. Drake’s house was sure to be protected from unauthorized entrance. Not only that, we’d have the power of the green dragons to help in case Baltic might, somehow, make it into the house. There really was no downside to the idea.
“Congratulations, Cy,” I said, pulling out my cell phone to call Gabriel again. “You’ve had your first good idea. I’m so proud of you, I’ve got tears in my eyes.”
“That’s what you said the last time I had a good idea,” she said smugly.
“Way back in 1922. You may want to pace yourself just in case you overload your brain,” I said with a dead-pan face.
Regardless of my joking, it was a good idea, and although Gabriel approved of the plan, he did sound somewhat worried. “Drake will not allow harm to come to you, but I don’t like you being under his roof for any length of time.”
“Worried I’ll succumb to his charms?” I teased.
“Not in the least. Aisling would turn you into a slug or something equally unappealing if you so much as laid a finger on him. I’m more concerned about what reaction the shard will have after a prolonged exposure to him. They are not your sept, but the shard might not recognize that fact, and may force you to act in a way that is . . . er . . .”
“Illicit?”
“Inappropriate,” he said. “As for your first question, no, we have not found Fiat, although I believe his trail is fresh. I hope to have him by the morning.”
“I miss you,” I told him, glancing around to make sure I wouldn’t be overheard. “I miss you a lot.”
“And I you, little bird. But now I must go. We are taking portals to our destination in order to conserve time, and you know how they discompose me.”
“Bon voyage,” I said, smiling at the memory of how rumpled portals made Gabriel and the other dragons feel. “Wish me luck with the police. So far, they believe the story of an unexplained bombing, but that has much to do with Cyrene hysterically recounting a tale of a militant extremist boyfriend.”
“I should have been an actress,” Cyrene said with a smug look on her face. “I really am good.”
It took another two and a half hours before the police, firemen, and emergency services people were willing to release us. As I surveyed the wreckage of Gabriel’s rented house, I didn’t blame the police for wondering how we’d all survived unscathed. The other silver dragons who had been present when Baltic made his midnight second assault had left on my advice—I felt we had a better chance at glossing over any trouble points the mortal police might raise with only a couple of us to be explained.
“Jim, you can talk, but if you bitch at me one more time, I will do something extremely unpleasant to you,” I told the demon as we slumped into the back of a sleek black BMW, Nathaniel behind the wheel.
“Like being hit on the head by a chair as it flew out the window?” it quipped. “How about losing the hair on half of my head? Or making all my whiskers drop out? Oh, I have it—how about pointing out the fact that I was almost blown to smithereens a couple hours after I returned to you?”
I lifted a finger. “Anything more?”
“No, sheesh. It’s not worth getting banished over. My magnificent coat will grow back, even if I look like a leper until then. I wonder if they make prosthetic whiskers?”
“I’m sorry about your hair and whiskers. You don’t look like a leper,” I said, averting my eyes from the singed side of its head. “And I told you I’d take you to be groomed as soon as possible. I owe you something after you found those two cats for the lady next door. Although you didn’t have to drool on them quite so much.”
“Eh. It was no biggie. Those cats were too bony, anyway. They wouldn’t have made a proper meal.”
“You made Mrs. Patterson deliriously happy by finding them; that is counting heavily in your favor,” I said, patting it on the furry side of its head. “But don’t push it. It’s been a long day for all of us.”
“Yeah.” Jim slumped for a moment, then perked up. “I can’t wait to see the look on Drake’s face when we all come trooping in and tell him Baltic blew up your house. He’s going to be torqued.”
“I just wish we’d been able to find Magoth,” I answered, more worried over the missing demon lord than about Drake. “I wonder where he got to? He couldn’t have been hurt, could he? He’s not technically a demon lord anymore. He’s not really anything.”
“Just immortal,” Jim agreed. “If you didn’t find his severed head, oozing and smoking and covered in guck, then he’s alive somewhere. Probably got the hell out of Dodge while the getting was good.”
“I wish I’d thought of doing that,” Cyrene grumbled, pulling the blanket tighter over her chest when Jim ogled her mostly visible breasts.
I don’t know how most people would react to a small army of dragons showing up on their doorstep, but Drake was completely unconcerned . . . until Aisling hauled herself downstairs to find out what was going on.
“Judging by the fact that Jim’s coat—what remains of it—is smoking, Cyrene appears to be naked under a blanket, Maata is walking crooked, and May is wearing nothing but one of what I assume is Gabriel’s shirts, I gather something happened over at Chez Silver Dragons.”
