by Shéa MacLoed
"Okay, good point," I agreed. "But why?"
"That," Haakon said grimly as we arrived at the marina, "is the question."
While Hakkon and Kabita made inquiries at the marina, I hot-footed it to the largest, snazziest hotel on the bay. It was the sort of place that catered to the "discerning traveler." In other words, rich people. Everything was immaculate and fresh, and the employees wore perfectly pressed uniforms. Giant urns filled with tropical flowers perfumed the lobby, but underneath I could smell barbeque wafting over from somewhere nearby. My stomach gave an unladylike rumble, reminding me I hadn't eaten in far too long.
The desk clerk gave me a startled look. I'd swum through the ocean, tromped through the jungle, been flooded out of a dirt tunnel, and fought a bunch of vampires. Oh, and I'd lit a house on fire. I must have looked a sight.
He cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and gave me a wide, professional smile. "How may I help you?" His tone was carefully neutral.
"Is there an airport on this island?"
His eyes widened. "Of course not, Madame. The island is too small for a runway."
"Then how do people get here other than by boat?"
"Sometimes a float plane lands in the harbor. Occasionally guests arrive by helicopter." His tone was calm, unflappable, but I could see it was a struggle. He was trying hard not to stare at my singed clothing or the dirty footprints I'd left on the white marble floor.
"Okay, let's say they want to leave. Where would they grab one of these helicopters?"
He licked his lips. "Well, Madame, they would either need to have their own helicopter, or they'd need to hire one. In either case, there is only one place a helicopter can safely put down."
"And that is?"
"The helipad just outside town."
"Where exactly?"
He pulled a glossy trifold brochure from beneath the counter, unfolded it, and laid it flat on the counter. There was a small map of the island with various points of interest marked with large black dots. "We are here." He drew a big X over the spot on the map where the hotel was. "The helipad is here." He drew another mark about a mile or so out of town. "The only way to get there is by taxi. Or walking."
"How about a phone number?"
"Certainly, Madame."
I was getting heartily sick of him calling me "Madame," but at least we were getting somewhere, so I held my tongue. He tapped a few keys on his computer, then scrawled a number on the map. "This is the phone number. If anyone is in the office. They don't keep regular hours."
"Thanks," I said, grabbing the map. "How about a phone?"
He pointed across the lobby to a cream-colored phone fixed to the wall. "There is a customer courtesy phone. Feel free."
"Thanks again." I strode across the lobby and quickly dialed the number. Somebody answered on the sixth ring.
"'Lo."
"Is this the helipad?"
"Sure."
"Have you had any helicopters fly in or out in the last couple hours?"
"Sure."
This was going nowhere. "Did a man named Alister Jones fly out today?"
"Dunno."
I wanted to scream into the phone. Instead I told myself to enhance my inner calm and tried again. "Did a helicopter carrying male passengers fly out within the last couple hours?"
"Sure."
Now we were getting somewhere. I quickly described Alister Jones, down to his pink and blue striped shirt. "Was he the passenger that flew out?"
"Yup."
"Fantastic. Do you know where they were headed?"
"Nope."
"How about which direction they flew?"
I could almost hear him shrug. "West? But that don't mean nuthin'."
He was right, of course. Whatever direction the helicopter had flown initially, they could easily change course once they were over open water. Did helicopters even need to file flight plans? I was pretty sure they didn't, which sort of left us up a creek.
"Thanks for your time," I mumbled before hanging up.
Alister Jones could be anywhere by now. We'd lost him.
Chapter Thirteen
We had no choice but to return to the ship. There was nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to look. The nest was destroyed, Alister gone, and the people on the islands safe, at least from those particular monsters. Other sorts of monsters weren't really my forte.
Once aboard, Haakon gave us a brief, stilted goodbye before returning to his duties. Kabita and I met up with Eddie to get my amulet back and give him a rundown of everything that had happened, including my run-in with Alister.
"Alister gets wilier by the moment," Eddie grumped. "No offence intended." He patted Kabita's hand.
"None taken."
"Ladies, I want to thank you both for coming to my rescue. I don't know what we would have done without you." He gave the hem of his mustard yellow waistcoat a tug.
I grinned. "No problem, Eddie. Just consider us your knights in shining armor."
He laughed. "I'll do that. Now, the cruise ends tomorrow. Any ideas about what to do next? I feel that finding Alister is becoming increasingly important and the book even more so."
I agreed with him. This whole thing had started with Alister and stopping him was the only way to end it.
"What about asking your sentient book, Eddie? Maybe it knows something about the book Alister took from France. It might even be able to tell us where he is."
He tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. "It's an idea. Of course, knowing and sharing are two different things where my sentient book is concerned. Still, I agree we should ask it."
"I'll go with you," Kabita said, turning to Eddie. "With Inigo out of commission, I've got work piled up back in Portland." She didn't say it, but I knew that me running around the planet after Alister and Inigo wasn't helping anything, either.
"How about you, Morgan?" Eddie asked. "What's your plan?"
"For now I'm headed back to the Highlands." I repressed a stab of guilt at leaving Kabita with a full plate. I needed to check on Inigo. I could only hope things had changed. If not…well, I'd cross that bridge when I got there.
Eddie and Kabita nodded. That's the thing about true friendship. Never needing to explain yourself.
# # #
By the time the plane touched down in Edinburgh, I was happy to be on solid ground again. I'd had my fill of boats, planes, Hippocampus, and dragon flight. Frankly, I wouldn't have minded spending a couple weeks lounging on that beach we'd landed on in the Bahamas. That had been one seriously beautiful stretch of sand, at least from what I could see at night, and it had been awhile since I'd had a vacation.
But I needed to be with Inigo. He might not want me there, but frankly, what he wanted didn't matter. People who loved one another stuck by each other. They didn't run away when things got hard. He needed me whether he wanted to admit it or not.
I picked up my rental car and drove north into the hills of Scotland. Several hours and a pub stop (or two) later, I was pulling into the courtyard of the dragons' keep. This time there was no one to greet me. I hadn't expected it. No one knew I was coming, after all. But I'd no doubt many eyes were on me. I could feel them boring into my back as I took the front steps two at a time. I wasn't worried, though. They didn't call me Fire Bringer for nothing.
Actually, come to think of it, I had no idea why they called me that. It was something Drago had told me the night he and Inigo met for the first time. He'd never explained and I'd chalked it up to being a dragon thing.
The hall was as deserted, as the courtyard had been. Fortunately I knew my way. A good sense of direction comes along with the whole Hunter thing.
I made my way down the hall, retracing the twists and turns I remembered from my previous visit. I was nearly to the wing where they were keeping Inigo when I heard a bellow, followed by a shout, and then something like nails scrabbling on stone. Baffled, I glanced around for the source of the odd noise.
Around the corner barreled a
very small dragon. He, or maybe she, was about the size of a basset hound but covered in neon yellow scales. It took me a moment to register that the eye-shocking color wasn't natural. It was the result of what looked like an entire can of paint.
The little creature slid on the smooth marble floor, talons scrabbling against the slick stone, and skidded into me so hard it nearly knocked my legs out from under me. I managed to grab onto a nearby suit of armor. Two giant blue eyes blinked at me from beneath the still-wet paint, and I noticed I had matching streaks across the legs of my jeans. The dragon let out a bellow and then a stream of fire. The drapes behind me went up in flames, and the little dragon took off again down the hall. I stared after it with my mouth hanging open.
"Roland!"
The shout startled me, and I turned in time to see a woman dash around the corner coming from the same direction from which the dragon had appeared. She looked more than a little worse for wear. Her jeans and T-shirt were covered in soot, her eyebrows were singed, and her hair, haphazardly piled on top her head, was still smoking. A smear of neon yellow graced her right cheek.
"Have you seen Roland?" she demanded.
"Little dragon covered in paint?"
She nodded.
"He went that way." I pointed down the hall.
She frowned at the drape still burning merrily behind me. "Oh, dear."
"Don't worry. I'll get it. You go find Roland."
With a quick nod, she took off after the baby dragon, and I turned to the business of putting out a fire. I didn't see anything so ordinary as a fire extinguisher or a bucket of sand nearby. There was nothing for it. Heaving a sigh, I reached down inside me and hauled Water out of its prison. Temporary reprieve only.
I think it might have been upset with me, because while it agreeably sprayed itself all over the burning drapes, it also covered the hall in a good inch of water before icing over. The hall was now a skating rink.
"Do not make me unleash Fire again," I snapped. Drago would kill me if I messed up his castle.
With a pout, the water receded, ice and all. It slunk back into its metaphorical cave and sulked like a child. Frankly I didn't care. I was more interested in the baby dragon fiasco.
I took off running down the hall after the dragon and what I assumed was either his mother or his nanny. They weren't hard to find. I followed the bellowing and the shouting right into the library. If Roland spit fire again, there was no way I'd be able to save the books, some of them centuries old.
"Burn these books, and I will turn your hide into a new pair of boots," I shouted over both of them.
Two pair of eyes, one human and one dragon, turned to stare at me. The little dragon whimpered. The woman propped her fists on her ample hips. Roland scuttled behind her in an attempt to hide, nearly knocking her over.
"How dare you threaten this poor child."
I snorted. "Poor child, my ass. The kid's a holy terror. If he can't control himself, he doesn't belong in a library. Frankly, I don't think he belongs anywhere that isn't completely fireproof."
The woman gasped, affronted. "He's a little boy. He's just being…mischievous. He only started breathing fire a few days ago. Who do you think you are, anyway?"
I shrugged. "Nobody, really. But Drago seems to think I'm the Fire Bringer."
I wasn't prepared for the reaction. Her eyes widened in horror, and she dropped to her knees and folded her hands in supplication. "Please, Lady. Please forgive my impertinence and the child his lack of control. He is but a baby. Please forgive us, I beg you."
"Um, yeah, sure. Whatever. Would you please get off the floor? Geez, this is embarrassing."
The woman staggered to her feet, looking like she might be about to keel over in a dead faint. "I am truly sorry, my lady. Please…"
"Forget it. It's fine. Whatever. No harm done. Or at least not much, anyway. Drago's going to need a new pair of drapes. You're his…?"
"Nanny, my lady."
I ignored the whole "my lady" thing and knelt on the carpet. I beckoned the baby dragon. "Roland, come here."
Shyly he poked his head out from behind his nanny. I waved him over, and he slowly, timidly waddled my way. When he was close, I reached out and gave him a scratch behind the one ear that wasn't covered in paint. He gurgled in delight.
"You need to listen to your nanny, Roland, do you understand me?"
He waved his dragon head, those impossibly big eyes blinking innocently at me. Oh, he was good. I bet he had half the castle wrapped around his little talon.
"Don't play innocent with me. You've been naughty."
He bowed his head in shame, but I didn't miss the look of mischief.
"You behave, or I'll come down to your nursery and show you how a dragon behaves, got it? Or better yet"—I leaned in, eyes narrowed—"I'll send Drago."
He let out a squeal and rushed behind his nanny again. I could barely hide my grin as I stood up. "You got him now?"
"Yes, lady. Thank you, Lady."
I left her in the library with Roland, still bobbing and curtseying. I was baffled. The whole "Fire Bringer" thing meant zilch to me, but it was important to Drago, so I'd let him do his thing and officially announce me. Apparently it was a much bigger deal than I'd realized. That, or the woman had spent a little too much time chasing after recalcitrant baby dragons.
The air was thick with the sooty tang of smoke as I passed the burned curtains. An elderly man in a black suit shook his head at the damage as he took measurements and jotted them down in a small notebook. I couldn't understand the words he was muttering since he spoke in dragon tongue, but he clearly was not a happy camper.
I took the flight of stairs to the second floor and wandered down the hall toward Inigo's room. I hesitated in front of his door, suddenly wondering if I was doing the right thing making a surprise visit. Last time hadn't gone so well. I should have called. Or texted. Or emailed. Or something.
I turned and strode back down the hall toward the staircase. I should find Drago. Catch up. Let him tell Inigo I was here. Yeah. That's what I should do.
I came to a stop at the head of the stairs. Why was I being such a loser? I needed to march back down that hall, into that room, and…. And what? Demand Inigo be nice to me? Act normal? Treat me like a girlfriend he actually wanted to see instead of someone he could barely stand looking at?
As I waffled, my cell phone rang. I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled it out of my pocket. I'd been given a temporary stay. I frowned as I read the screen. Jack.
"Why the hell haven't you called me?" I snarled into the phone. So much for phone etiquette.
"Hello to you, too," he snapped.
"What the hell, Jack? You take off, leave me alone in Paris without so much as a word. You don't return my calls or texts. Nobody knows where you are."
"You're not my keeper, Morgan."
"Fuck you." Yeah, I said it. I was mad as a freaking hornet and growing angrier by the second. "You go all bullshit Guardian on me one minute, and the next, when I really need you, you fucking disappear. I think I deserve an explanation."
He let out a long-suffering sigh. It made me want to smack him.
"I didn't call to argue with you," he said. "I wanted to let you know I had a lead on the book. That's why I took off like that."
"Too late," I told him. "I already know where it is. Alister has it. He was on some island in the Caribbean, but it's too late. He escaped before we could get it." I felt smug and superior. Well, except for the Alister escaping part.
"We?"
Oh, bloody hell, here we go again. "Kabita. Me. Eddie helped." I left out the whole Haakon thing, though I really wanted to ask if Jack knew the Viking Sunwalker.
"He's okay, then? Eddie?"
"Yeah. There was a small vampire problem on his cruise ship, but everything's fine now."
"Uh-huh." I could practically see him shaking his head in exasperation. "Well, since you let Alister escape…."
"Listen, you asshat…"
"I've got a few other leads," he interrupted. "I'm going to follow them up. I'll let you know what I find."
"You do that."
"Are you back in the States?"
I hesitated. "No. I'm in Scotland."
"How is he?"
I swallowed. "I haven't seen him yet. Just got here. But I'll tell him you said 'hi.' Is that everything?" My voice was abrupt, stilted. I so did not want to talk about Inigo. Not with Jack.
Jack cleared his throat. "Yeah. That's it."
"Fine. Gotta go." I disconnected before he could say another word. The man made me want to pull my hair out sometimes. Most times. Worst Guardian ever.
Chapter Fourteen
Before I could shove my phone back in my pocket, it rang again. This time it was Kabita.
"We consulted Eddie's sentient book," she said before I could so much as say hello.
"And?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"That's what I said," she snapped. "Just gave us a big blank page. Hang on, I'm putting you on speaker. Eddie wants to talk to you."
"Morgan, you must get that book back as soon as possible," Eddie shouted. I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear.
"Eddie, you don't need to yell," Kabita's voice was slightly muffled, as if she'd put her hand over the mic.
"Sorry." Eddie's voice dipped to a more reasonable decibel.
"Why do I need to rush home if the book didn't show anything?" I asked.
"Because I'm hoping it will show you something. After all, you're the Key and it's the key to the Key."
"Don't remind me." I'd about had it with this whole Key business. It was seriously messing with my life. "Fine, I'll be home soon. In the meantime, Jack's working on some leads, so maybe he'll come up with something."
"Hang on," Kabita said. I heard a beep, and then she came back, this time with the speaker phone off. "What are your plans?"
I knew she wasn't talking about Alister or the key problem. "I-I don't know yet. I'm about to go see him." I also knew she'd realize I wasn't talking about Jack.
There was a slight pause. "Good luck." She hung up.
