You Slay Me
Page 31
"Wow, this is absolutely astounding. What a gorgeous view. What a gorgeous room. What a gorgeous house."
"But it is not finding us your dragon," Rene pointed out.
"True." I kept my eyes firmly away from the huge black-and-gold bed that dominated the room and thought about where the lair would be. "We could look on the floor above, or the ground floor, but call it a hunch, I'm willing to bet that Drake's lair is in the basement. That's where I'd put something I wanted limited access to."
"I agree most strong," Rene said.
"Right. Back downstairs we go."
We slipped out of the bedroom and, after listening for a moment at the top of the stairs, decided the coast was clear. We descended with a minimum of sound and crept back to the side hall. "Where do you think the door to the basement is?" I whispered to Rene.
He pointed to the left. "That door."
I looked at the door. It didn't look any different from the two others. "Why that one?"
"It has the keys."
He was right. There was a key strung on a blue piece of string hanging around the doorknob. I snatched the string off the knob, surprised to find that it turned freely.
"Maybe the key is for something else?" I asked. Rene shrugged. Jim looked bored. Aware of the sounds of habi-tation in the kitchen, I hurried into die room. "Point one for us," I whispered as I felt around for a light. It clicked on to show us standing on the landing of a narrow flight of stairs that led downward. "Good call, Rene."
He looked pleased. "I told you I would be most help-ful."
"I never thought you wouldn't be, but at the first sign of trouble, I want you out of here. Jim and I can take care of ourselves."
"We can?" Jim asked doubtfully. I didn't say anything. What was there to say? I felt just as doubting as the demon sounded, but I was determined to keep Rene from being dragged any further than he already was into the hideous mess my life had become.
Silently, or as silently as we could be considering the wooden stairs cracked and groaned with every step, we made our way to the bottom, where another closed door was set into a stone wall. This one was padlocked shut.
"Voila," Rene said. "That must be his storeroom, yes?"
"I imagine so. You'd think a man who had hundreds of years to learn basic security would be a bit more careful about his priceless objects," I whispered as I used the key on the string to open the padlock. "All those pictures and vases just sitting around upstairs, and just one lock on this door? Uncle Damian would have something to say about that." I set the lock on the floor, carefully opening the door.
. Two things should have become readily apparent to you by now: First, I'm not the brightest bulb in the pack when it comes to obvious things, and second … well, it's the same as the first.
"Woof," Jim said as a light automatically turned on when the door to the lair swung open. Rene sucked in his breath and muttered something I didn't understand. I clutched the door, blinking at the sight before us. It was a treasure trove, pure and simple. There was gold every-where—real gold, not fake gold. Gold plates, gold gob-lets, gold statues . . . Drake's lair was a room filled with display cases and ornate wooden cabinets, all housing ob-jects of gold. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" I whispered, walking slowly into the room.
"Arf."
"Never," Rene breathed, following me. I stood in the middle of the narrow, low-ceilinged room, my mouth hanging open as I looked from case to case.
"I can't even begin to calculate what it's all worth…. Hey, there's my dragon!"
"Bow wow."
I hurried over to the wooden cabinet that faced the door. Each one was individually lit within, the soft light carefully focused to highlight the objects nestled on the shelves. On the top shelf of the cabinet in front of me two objects sat on black velvet—one was my dragon aquamanile; the other was a gold goblet similarly decorated with a dragon coiled around the stem.
"Bark, bark," Jim said behind me.
"Jim, what's your problem?" I asked as I reached out to open the glass-fronted door.
"I think perhaps / am the problem," a smooth, silky, extremely sexy voice said behind us.
"Oh, crap," I swore, letting my hand drop.
"You are in France. The correct word ismerde," Rene corrected gently.
"Sorry Merde." I turned to face Drake, trying to sum-mon an innocent smile, not that it would do me any good. It didn't. The expression on his face left me wishing I'd taken my chances with the Venediger. 8
"Ah, Drake. Long time no see. We were … uh… in the neighborhood and thought we'd stop by and see how you were."
"Did you? How very generous of you. And your com-panions are?"
I waved my hand toward Rene. "This is Rene, my taxi driver. He doesn't know anything about what's going on."
"Doesn't he?" Drake turned his attention on Rene, eyeing him carefully for a moment before lifting his hand. A flash of blue like a concentrated ball of lightning shot from him to Rene, leaving me with big black spots bobbing before my eyes.
"What have you done to him?" I yelled as soon as the spots disappeared enough for me to see. I ran over to where Rene was slumped unconscious against one of the cases. "My god, you've killed him!"
"How bloodthirsty you are. I had no idea your lovely exterior hid such a cruel nature."
I sent him a glare that should have burned the hair right off his head. "I'm not the one who just killed an innocent man! You are going to pay for this, Drake. So help me, you are going to pay!"
Drake sighed and shook his head in mock sorrow. "Such a suspicious mind you have. I did not kill him. I merely sent him to sleep for a while. The fewer witnesses to what is about to happen, the better."
Relief filled me even as I recognized just how omi-nous his words were. I made sure that Rene was just out, and when I was satisfied that Drake told the truth about zapping him, moved so I had my back to the case holding the dragons. Drake glanced toward Jim.
"That's Jim."
"Her demon," Jim said, strolling over to Drake. "But if you're as powerful as you look, I can beyours instead."
Traitor," I whispered, taking a step backwards. Al-though the main part of my brain, the functioning
"But it is not finding us your dragon," Rene pointed out.
"True." I kept my eyes firmly away from the huge black-and-gold bed that dominated the room and thought about where the lair would be. "We could look on the floor above, or the ground floor, but call it a hunch, I'm willing to bet that Drake's lair is in the basement. That's where I'd put something I wanted limited access to."
"I agree most strong," Rene said.
"Right. Back downstairs we go."
We slipped out of the bedroom and, after listening for a moment at the top of the stairs, decided the coast was clear. We descended with a minimum of sound and crept back to the side hall. "Where do you think the door to the basement is?" I whispered to Rene.
He pointed to the left. "That door."
I looked at the door. It didn't look any different from the two others. "Why that one?"
"It has the keys."
He was right. There was a key strung on a blue piece of string hanging around the doorknob. I snatched the string off the knob, surprised to find that it turned freely.
"Maybe the key is for something else?" I asked. Rene shrugged. Jim looked bored. Aware of the sounds of habi-tation in the kitchen, I hurried into die room. "Point one for us," I whispered as I felt around for a light. It clicked on to show us standing on the landing of a narrow flight of stairs that led downward. "Good call, Rene."
He looked pleased. "I told you I would be most help-ful."
"I never thought you wouldn't be, but at the first sign of trouble, I want you out of here. Jim and I can take care of ourselves."
"We can?" Jim asked doubtfully. I didn't say anything. What was there to say? I felt just as doubting as the demon sounded, but I was determined to keep Rene from being dragged any further than he already was into the hideous mess my life had become.
Silently, or as silently as we could be considering the wooden stairs cracked and groaned with every step, we made our way to the bottom, where another closed door was set into a stone wall. This one was padlocked shut.
"Voila," Rene said. "That must be his storeroom, yes?"
"I imagine so. You'd think a man who had hundreds of years to learn basic security would be a bit more careful about his priceless objects," I whispered as I used the key on the string to open the padlock. "All those pictures and vases just sitting around upstairs, and just one lock on this door? Uncle Damian would have something to say about that." I set the lock on the floor, carefully opening the door.
. Two things should have become readily apparent to you by now: First, I'm not the brightest bulb in the pack when it comes to obvious things, and second … well, it's the same as the first.
"Woof," Jim said as a light automatically turned on when the door to the lair swung open. Rene sucked in his breath and muttered something I didn't understand. I clutched the door, blinking at the sight before us. It was a treasure trove, pure and simple. There was gold every-where—real gold, not fake gold. Gold plates, gold gob-lets, gold statues . . . Drake's lair was a room filled with display cases and ornate wooden cabinets, all housing ob-jects of gold. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" I whispered, walking slowly into the room.
"Arf."
"Never," Rene breathed, following me. I stood in the middle of the narrow, low-ceilinged room, my mouth hanging open as I looked from case to case.
"I can't even begin to calculate what it's all worth…. Hey, there's my dragon!"
"Bow wow."
I hurried over to the wooden cabinet that faced the door. Each one was individually lit within, the soft light carefully focused to highlight the objects nestled on the shelves. On the top shelf of the cabinet in front of me two objects sat on black velvet—one was my dragon aquamanile; the other was a gold goblet similarly decorated with a dragon coiled around the stem.
"Bark, bark," Jim said behind me.
"Jim, what's your problem?" I asked as I reached out to open the glass-fronted door.
"I think perhaps / am the problem," a smooth, silky, extremely sexy voice said behind us.
"Oh, crap," I swore, letting my hand drop.
"You are in France. The correct word ismerde," Rene corrected gently.
"Sorry Merde." I turned to face Drake, trying to sum-mon an innocent smile, not that it would do me any good. It didn't. The expression on his face left me wishing I'd taken my chances with the Venediger. 8
"Ah, Drake. Long time no see. We were … uh… in the neighborhood and thought we'd stop by and see how you were."
"Did you? How very generous of you. And your com-panions are?"
I waved my hand toward Rene. "This is Rene, my taxi driver. He doesn't know anything about what's going on."
"Doesn't he?" Drake turned his attention on Rene, eyeing him carefully for a moment before lifting his hand. A flash of blue like a concentrated ball of lightning shot from him to Rene, leaving me with big black spots bobbing before my eyes.
"What have you done to him?" I yelled as soon as the spots disappeared enough for me to see. I ran over to where Rene was slumped unconscious against one of the cases. "My god, you've killed him!"
"How bloodthirsty you are. I had no idea your lovely exterior hid such a cruel nature."
I sent him a glare that should have burned the hair right off his head. "I'm not the one who just killed an innocent man! You are going to pay for this, Drake. So help me, you are going to pay!"
Drake sighed and shook his head in mock sorrow. "Such a suspicious mind you have. I did not kill him. I merely sent him to sleep for a while. The fewer witnesses to what is about to happen, the better."
Relief filled me even as I recognized just how omi-nous his words were. I made sure that Rene was just out, and when I was satisfied that Drake told the truth about zapping him, moved so I had my back to the case holding the dragons. Drake glanced toward Jim.
"That's Jim."
"Her demon," Jim said, strolling over to Drake. "But if you're as powerful as you look, I can beyours instead."
Traitor," I whispered, taking a step backwards. Al-though the main part of my brain, the functioning
