You Slay Me
Page 30
"That's remarkably accepting of you. It took me hours to get to the point you're at after just a few minutes."
"I'm French," Rene said with another shrug. "We are superior, yes?"
"Absolutely," I said with a smile, one that stayed on my face until we pulled up outside the address listed for Drake.
"We are here, and the police, they will not know where we are," Rene said with great satisfaction.
"Um," I said, looking at the courtyard. A private court-yard, one with a fountain. If I thought Mme. Deauxville's building said expensive, this one screamedmillionaire.
Rene whistled as he took in the beautiful pink stone building set back behind the courtyard. "This man who stole your dragon, he has much money?"
"I'm going to say the answer to that is a resounding yes." I got out of the taxi and gave myself over to a few seconds of blatant gawking. "Can you wait, or do you have to go run rich tourists around?"
He reached for his cell phone, his eyes still on the house. "I will call my friend to take my afternoon ap-pointment. I think I should come with you."
"Geez, Rene, I don't want to make you lose out on good pickings from tourists."
He waved me forward, already speaking into his phone.
"So, what's the game plan?" Jim asked as we skirted the fountain.
I just knew someone was going to ask me that. Unfor-tunately, I hadn't yet thought of a reasonable answer. "Well… I don't really have one."
Jim groaned. "Don't tell me you're just planning on walking in the front door?"
"Er. .. maybe. Unless you have a better idea?" I stopped in front of the two large doors and gnawed my lower lip. The courtyard was completely deserted. There wasn't even a shadow to be seen flickering
behind the lace net curtains that hung in all the windows, lace cur-tains that I suspected were there to keep prying eyes from seeing too much rather than for decorative purposes. The thought of Drake picking out lace curtains for his house was just too much for my brain to handle.
Jim rolled its eyes. "This is a dragon's home. You think they survived for centuries by letting in anyone who wants to stroll in and have a look around?"
I hated to admit it, but that made sense. Drake would hardly be likely to leave the aquamanile lying around where I could easily get at it. "Right. What do you know about dragon's lairs?"
"I don't know any dragons," Jim answered, smelling at a large potted plant. "Thus I don't know anything about their lairs."
"No peeing on anything that looks nice," I warned, then chewed my lip a little more as I considered the prob-lem. What was good for Mme. Deauxville's might be good for Drake's house. "I suppose we could sneak around the back of the house and see if I can't find us a way in. Then we'll reconnoiter."
"Reconnoiter, yes, that is a very good plan," Rene said as he tucked his cell phone into his pocket. "I like that. I am very good at the reconnoiter. Where do we com-mence?"
A couple more gnaws on the old lower lip, and I came to a decision. "Rene, I don't think it's a good idea for you to come inside with us. Even though Drake stole my dragon, and I'm just getting it back, technically it is a crime to break into his house. I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble."
"Fen," Rene said, waving away the possibility of trou-ble. He tapped his chest, giving me a knowing look as he did so. "I know the way of things here. You do not. And the demon, he is not very bright. So we com-mence."
We commenced. I felt bad about Rene, but didn't think I could talk him out of it, and to be honest, I felt more se-cure with him along. I'd just have to see to it that he didn't get his kindness to me paid back with trouble.
"You get to be the watchdog," I told Jim as we ap-proached one of the three ground-floor doors recessed in the back of the building. The back opened onto a dark, dusty alley that appeared abandoned. I studied the lock on the door for a second, almost smiling at it. I knew this lock; it was even easier to open than the one at Mme. Deauxville's.
"Watchdog? What does that mean?" Jim asked.
"Bark if you see anyone. Or anything suspicious. Or my aquamanile. You know, be a watchdog."
Jim rolled its eyes. The lock clicked open as I worked my credit-card magic upon it. Rene pursed his lips again at the sight of the door opening, but he didn't say any-thing as I slipped inside.
"Looks like a utility room of some sort," I whispered as Jim and Rene followed. I crept to the opposite door, opening it just a crack as Rene gently closed the outer door. Light from a hallway illuminated a few occasional tables and a couple of green embroidered chairs. From the right, I could hear the faint sound of conversation— a TV, I was willing to bet, coupled with the sound of crockery clinking a comfortable, homey sound. "That's the kitchen down there, to the right," I whispered. "Which way do you think—up or down?"
"Up," Rene said. "There is less chance we will see someone upstairs if the common rooms are on this floor, yes?"
"Works for me," I muttered as we skinnied down the hallway to where a large staircase curved upward, its el-egant sweep of dark oak gracing an already stunning hall. "Is that linen paneling? It looks antique—"
"Aisling!" Rene hissed, halfway up the stairs. "Now is not the time to be a tourist."
Reluctantly I stopped myself from admiring the beau-tiful paneling. "Sorry. Coming."
I started up the stairs as Jim paused to sniff the air. The sound of voices was louder here, as was the smell of grilling meat. "Food!"
"You had your lunch," I said, tugging on its collar. "Come on. If everyone is eating, we can look around without being seen."
We hurried up the carpeted stairs, alert to anyone who might suddenly pop out of a room, but we saw nothing. Well, that's not strictly correct—we saw room after room of gorgeous furnishings, artwork that looked original (and valuable), works of art that should have been in a museum—but people? Not a soul. There was no aquamanile, either.
"Man, I had no idea there was so much money to be had in the dragon business," I said as I followed Rene and Jim into a bedroom decorated with an Oriental theme, all black lacquer and bright blues, greens, and golds. I was positive it was Drake's bedroom, which gave me an odd thrill as I looked around. The room was absolutely breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as trie view seen from the terrace a solid wall of windows overlooked.
"I'm French," Rene said with another shrug. "We are superior, yes?"
"Absolutely," I said with a smile, one that stayed on my face until we pulled up outside the address listed for Drake.
"We are here, and the police, they will not know where we are," Rene said with great satisfaction.
"Um," I said, looking at the courtyard. A private court-yard, one with a fountain. If I thought Mme. Deauxville's building said expensive, this one screamedmillionaire.
Rene whistled as he took in the beautiful pink stone building set back behind the courtyard. "This man who stole your dragon, he has much money?"
"I'm going to say the answer to that is a resounding yes." I got out of the taxi and gave myself over to a few seconds of blatant gawking. "Can you wait, or do you have to go run rich tourists around?"
He reached for his cell phone, his eyes still on the house. "I will call my friend to take my afternoon ap-pointment. I think I should come with you."
"Geez, Rene, I don't want to make you lose out on good pickings from tourists."
He waved me forward, already speaking into his phone.
"So, what's the game plan?" Jim asked as we skirted the fountain.
I just knew someone was going to ask me that. Unfor-tunately, I hadn't yet thought of a reasonable answer. "Well… I don't really have one."
Jim groaned. "Don't tell me you're just planning on walking in the front door?"
"Er. .. maybe. Unless you have a better idea?" I stopped in front of the two large doors and gnawed my lower lip. The courtyard was completely deserted. There wasn't even a shadow to be seen flickering
behind the lace net curtains that hung in all the windows, lace cur-tains that I suspected were there to keep prying eyes from seeing too much rather than for decorative purposes. The thought of Drake picking out lace curtains for his house was just too much for my brain to handle.
Jim rolled its eyes. "This is a dragon's home. You think they survived for centuries by letting in anyone who wants to stroll in and have a look around?"
I hated to admit it, but that made sense. Drake would hardly be likely to leave the aquamanile lying around where I could easily get at it. "Right. What do you know about dragon's lairs?"
"I don't know any dragons," Jim answered, smelling at a large potted plant. "Thus I don't know anything about their lairs."
"No peeing on anything that looks nice," I warned, then chewed my lip a little more as I considered the prob-lem. What was good for Mme. Deauxville's might be good for Drake's house. "I suppose we could sneak around the back of the house and see if I can't find us a way in. Then we'll reconnoiter."
"Reconnoiter, yes, that is a very good plan," Rene said as he tucked his cell phone into his pocket. "I like that. I am very good at the reconnoiter. Where do we com-mence?"
A couple more gnaws on the old lower lip, and I came to a decision. "Rene, I don't think it's a good idea for you to come inside with us. Even though Drake stole my dragon, and I'm just getting it back, technically it is a crime to break into his house. I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble."
"Fen," Rene said, waving away the possibility of trou-ble. He tapped his chest, giving me a knowing look as he did so. "I know the way of things here. You do not. And the demon, he is not very bright. So we com-mence."
We commenced. I felt bad about Rene, but didn't think I could talk him out of it, and to be honest, I felt more se-cure with him along. I'd just have to see to it that he didn't get his kindness to me paid back with trouble.
"You get to be the watchdog," I told Jim as we ap-proached one of the three ground-floor doors recessed in the back of the building. The back opened onto a dark, dusty alley that appeared abandoned. I studied the lock on the door for a second, almost smiling at it. I knew this lock; it was even easier to open than the one at Mme. Deauxville's.
"Watchdog? What does that mean?" Jim asked.
"Bark if you see anyone. Or anything suspicious. Or my aquamanile. You know, be a watchdog."
Jim rolled its eyes. The lock clicked open as I worked my credit-card magic upon it. Rene pursed his lips again at the sight of the door opening, but he didn't say any-thing as I slipped inside.
"Looks like a utility room of some sort," I whispered as Jim and Rene followed. I crept to the opposite door, opening it just a crack as Rene gently closed the outer door. Light from a hallway illuminated a few occasional tables and a couple of green embroidered chairs. From the right, I could hear the faint sound of conversation— a TV, I was willing to bet, coupled with the sound of crockery clinking a comfortable, homey sound. "That's the kitchen down there, to the right," I whispered. "Which way do you think—up or down?"
"Up," Rene said. "There is less chance we will see someone upstairs if the common rooms are on this floor, yes?"
"Works for me," I muttered as we skinnied down the hallway to where a large staircase curved upward, its el-egant sweep of dark oak gracing an already stunning hall. "Is that linen paneling? It looks antique—"
"Aisling!" Rene hissed, halfway up the stairs. "Now is not the time to be a tourist."
Reluctantly I stopped myself from admiring the beau-tiful paneling. "Sorry. Coming."
I started up the stairs as Jim paused to sniff the air. The sound of voices was louder here, as was the smell of grilling meat. "Food!"
"You had your lunch," I said, tugging on its collar. "Come on. If everyone is eating, we can look around without being seen."
We hurried up the carpeted stairs, alert to anyone who might suddenly pop out of a room, but we saw nothing. Well, that's not strictly correct—we saw room after room of gorgeous furnishings, artwork that looked original (and valuable), works of art that should have been in a museum—but people? Not a soul. There was no aquamanile, either.
"Man, I had no idea there was so much money to be had in the dragon business," I said as I followed Rene and Jim into a bedroom decorated with an Oriental theme, all black lacquer and bright blues, greens, and golds. I was positive it was Drake's bedroom, which gave me an odd thrill as I looked around. The room was absolutely breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as trie view seen from the terrace a solid wall of windows overlooked.
