Fugitive of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 1) Page 9
He’d helped us with problems before. Beneath the table, I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d be able to help us this time as well.
“Hi, Dr. Garriso. Did you get anything?”
“Of course I did. Just needed a bit more to go on to speed up the process.”
“What’d you find?”
“Nothing in my sources, but a friend was able to provide me with an address.”
“Where to?”
“London. 42 Florence Avenue. It’s in a supernatural neighborhood, so you shouldn’t have to lie too low.”
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Anytime, my dear, anytime.”
I hung up and relayed the information to Ares.
“Just an address?” he said.
“It’s more than we had.”
“True. And you think this might lead us to the killer?”
I shrugged. “He was murdered right near PTA lady’s house. Probably right after visiting her. Now we learn that there is a location that somehow relates to a medallion that is shrouded in secret?”
“Fine. It seems like a good clue.”
It had better be, because I’d already lost more than eighteen hours of my allotted seventy-two.
I polished off the last few bites of my pasta, then looked up at him. “I’m going to go call my friends—let them know what I’m doing.”
“Must you?”
“Always.” I stood. “Meet you out front.”
I hurried from the restaurant, igniting the magic in my comms charm as soon as I stepped onto the street. It didn’t take long to let them know where I was headed, and by the time I was done, Ares had joined me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yep. You can zap us right there?”
He nodded and held out a hand. I took it, and the ether sucked us in, transporting us to a busy street in the middle of London. Fortunately, because this was a neighborhood occupied entirely by supernaturals, we didn’t have to worry about humans seeing us appear out of thin air. They’d never enter this part of town because magical spells would drive them away.
It was dark because of the time change, with the evening lights setting the place ablaze. In front of us, an enormous red brick building took up an entire block. A huge clock tower sat atop it, also built of red brick with a pointed black slate roof.
“Twenty bucks that is our destination,” I said.
“Agreed,” Ares said. “St. Pancras station. Not a very quiet place.”
“No, it’s really not.” I’d seen a program on TV saying it was one of the busiest train stations in London. It was historic, with a glass-roofed atrium housing shops and restaurants and all the hustle and bustle a city like London could provide.
“What do you say we do some recon?” Ares said.
“You read my mind.”
We crossed the busy street and climbed the wide steps to a raised stone platform that led to the clock tower. It was about the size of a football field, but there were only a few people standing on it and snapping pictures.
As subtly as I could, I fed my dragon sense my desire to find a clue about the medallion. I made dead certain that my magic didn’t flare up—no need to point a flashing arrow at my abilities.
Ares had his head tilted back and was studying the clock tower when I finally got a tug of recognition.
That clock tower was definitely our goal. But how to get in?
“Let’s poke around the sides,” I said. “Maybe there will be an entrance.”
“To where?”
“The clock tower, of course. Something that big and impressive has to be important.” Please buy that load of bull.
He gave me a skeptical look, but nodded, then held out his hand.
“We can just walk,” I said.
“And we’re going to. But if we pretend to be a couple, we’ll draw less notice.”
He did have a point. This was a slightly more touristy part of London, given that it was the entrance and exit hub for any supernaturals who didn’t have the ability to transport. Weres and witches and fae who were on vacation were spilling out of the train station behind the clock tower, looking all around and ready to start their travels.
“Fine, good idea.” I grabbed his hand.
He grinned. “Try to look like you like me.”
“Don’t ask the impossible.”
He chuckled, and we started off across the flagstones and went down the stairs on the other side of the building. There was a darker side street running alongside the station here. There were no tourists exiting the station on this side, just an alley full of dumpsters and the smell of vomit.
I pointed to it. “That has potential.”
“It does.”
We turned down the alley. The smell was strong. My head went foggy and weird, as if my brain were swimming in pudding. That was weird. Could it be a spell?
The sight of the spilled garbage sent the worry from my mind. Why hadn’t anyone cleaned this up?
Jeez, I hoped my own place wasn’t so gross. What if it was? I’d die of embarrassment. I really needed to go clean my house.
Actually, had I left the oven on? I totally had. Oh my god, my house was going to burn down.
I stopped, which made my head spin a bit, and pulled on Ares’s hand. It didn’t take much. He seemed as anxious to go as I was, his gaze twitchy. I’d bet his house was a mess too. We really needed to get out of here before roaches and rats overran our homes. Or they burned down.
My dragon sense tugged me toward the clock tower, as if trying to remind me of my goal.
Hang on. I shook my head, trying to clear the brain fog.
I almost never used my oven. Once in a blue moon. There was no way it was left on. And no way I’d be afraid of that. Or of my messy house. And Ares’s place certainly wasn’t dirty.
“There’s a repelling enchantment,” I said.
“Yes.” His brow was creased with concentration as he tried to fight the spell. “We need to keep going.”
“Agreed.”
We turned back to the alley and pushed through the extreme unease. These were great repelling charms. They attracted almost no attention and would likely drive off anyone who would trespass.
But I had my dragon sense to remind me of the goal. Also, I would never fall for that oven bit.
Eventually, the feeling faded as we crept by dumpsters and piles of trash, which I now realized were an illusion to make the alley look disused. The stink was from the dark magic that protected the alley.
We were about thirty feet in when tiny beestings burst over every inch of my skin. I halted and pulled back until they stopped. Ares followed, his gaze grim.
The beestings were just a warning.
“Protection charms,” Ares said.
“Yep.” There’d be something worse up ahead. I rubbed my arms to soothe the prickly ache. “But we’re definitely onto something.”
Ares studied the alley that we had yet to traverse. It was dark and narrow.
“Can you transport us down a ways?” I asked.
His magic flared briefly, bringing with it the taste of whiskey and the feel of a caress against my skin.
He shook his head. “No. Warded from transporting.”
No surprise.
“Then let’s keep going.”
We continued walking, fighting our way past the beestings until a thick vine extended out from the wall like an octopus arm. It struck out toward us.
We dived, skidding along the pavement.
Another vine struck out, this one with thorns. The brick walls had been barren until now, but we’d clearly triggered something.
I called upon my magic, conjuring a sword. “Need one?”
“No.” Ares jumped up and went for a vine, moving so quickly he could grab it with his bare hands and tear it apart.
I swung my sword, chopping off a vine as it went for my legs. Another hit me in the back, slamming me forward. I rolled, popping up and turning around in time
to slice the vine in two. Beside me, Ares was tearing the vines apart as they struck out for me.
We made our way slowly down the alley until the vines stopped coming.
“Pretty good secur—” I started.
My words were cut off by the thunder of footsteps. Demons poured out of a doorway about ten feet down the alley. There were a dozen at least, all dressed in identical black uniforms. They were at least six and a half feet tall with gray skin and sawed-off horns.
Security demons.
Ares charged them. He slashed out with his hand, striking the neck of the closest demon. Blood sprayed, courtesy of the infamous vampire claws that I’d never seen. Vampires shifted physically when in fight mode. Their eyes turned silver and they grew claws while their fangs extended. Though they didn’t get any bigger, they became stronger.
A demon charged me, his massive blade raised. I dodged his first blow, plunging my blade into his gut. He roared. I kicked him backward, then swung for the next demon.
My blade sliced across his throat, but not quickly enough. His buddy landed a knife blow to my shoulder before I could swing at him.
Pain flared from the wound as my blood poured free. I kicked the attacking demon in the stomach, then plunged my blade into his throat.
Beside me, Ares had taken out seven demons and was demolishing the eighth with a black sword made of shadow. It was odd looking. He had a cut on his chest, but otherwise looked to be okay.
I turned for the last one, my wounded arm blazing with pain. He swung his sword. I dodged it by a hair’s breadth, sucking in my stomach to get that last extra inch, then aimed my blade for his throat.
He was fast, darting out of the way just in time. I lunged for him, sinking my blade into his gut as his sword came at me from the left.
I jumped out of the way, but took a small slice to my side. It still hurt like the devil.
He collapsed. Demon bodies were scattered around us like broken dolls. My wounds sang with pain, and my breaths came like a freight train.
“That was fun,” I said.
Ares turned to face me, his gaze blazing from the fight. He opened his mouth, but his eyes widened on something over my shoulder.
I spun.
A mass of demon guards came hurtling toward us. There had to be at least two dozen. Maybe more.
I looked back at Ares. “Time to run.”
He nodded, gaze certain. There was no way we could fight that many.
Ares flicked his shadow sword and it disappeared, then he took off. We raced down the alley, back the way we’d come. The pain from my wounds faded as my aching lungs distracted me.
Breath heaving, I glanced back over my shoulder. Ares kept behind me, which was weird, since he was faster. But I only had eyes for the demons.
They were following us, and were only about thirty feet behind.
We had to make it to the main street. They wouldn’t come out there—they wouldn’t want to be seen. Right?
This seemed like a pretty secret operation—whatever it was—so I freaking hoped I was right.
We sprinted by the fake dumpsters and spilled out onto the main street. I didn’t look back—just kept running.
Better safe than sorry.
I raced in front of the oncoming cars, their bright headlights nearly blinding me. Horns blared and brakes screeched.
We reached the other side and pulled to a halt. I spun to check out the demons.
They hadn’t followed us out into the street, thank fates.
But people were staring at us. They might be supernaturals and fights might be pretty common among our kind, but we’d still caused a serious traffic disruption and were streaked liberally with blood.
“That went well.” I pressed a hand to my chest, panting. More jogging for me.
Ares chuckled, his gaze bright with the thrill of the chase. “Not sure I’d say that.”
“We’re alive, aren’t we?”
“Fair enough. That is a win.” His gaze went straight to my wounded side and arm. “You’re hurt.”
“Just a flesh wound.” I raised it to inspect the damage. Pain flared, a lightning bolt of agony through my bicep. Blood had soaked my sleeve and dripped to the pavement. My head spun, and I stumbled slightly. “Bit of blood loss, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
I tilted to the side, and he swept me up in his arms.
“Hey, lemme go.” I shoved at him.
“Not a chance in hell. You can’t stand.”
“Sure I can—” My head spun like my brain was on a carnival ride and had asked for the extra-fast setting. Adrenaline had pushed the pain to the back of my mind, but now…
Now I was about two seconds from passing out if I kept standing.
“Okay,” I slurred. “Maybe the cut is deep.”
Maaaaybe I could walk under my own steam. But maybe not. And right now, with his strong arms wrapped around me and my head feeling fuzzy, this seemed like a pretty good deal.
No one ever said I was stupid.
If a hot dude wanted to give you a ride, why say no?
Shit. That had a double meaning.
I grimaced. Good thing I hadn’t said that aloud.
He gripped me close to him and strode down the sidewalk. I kept my mouth shut.
After a few moments, he turned right and climbed the stairs to a beautiful stone building.
The Pancras Hotel.
“We’re getting a hotel?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s convenient.” The wide glass doors opened automatically, and he strode through.
I looked down at the blood soaking my arm and side, then at the blood staining the front of his shirt. We weren’t really dressed for a hotel. And certainly not one as fancy as this.
The lobby was massive and done in shades of pale gold. The furniture looked expensive, and the chandeliers were the size of Fabio. This place was fancy with a capital F.
From behind the mahogany desk, the clerk glared at me, his upper lip curled.
Uh-oh.
We were going to get the boot.
I recognized that look from my days as a teenager on the run with Del and Cass. It wasn’t always easy back then to hide our shitty circumstances. People didn’t usually like desperate teenagers hanging around their establishments.
Annoyance streaked through me. This guy was just a dick.
His gaze darted up to Ares, then widened.
Ares strode to the desk.
“I’m Ares Warhaven. We need a room.”
Recognition dawned in the clerk’s muddy eyes. “Of—of course, sir.”
There was so much bowing and scraping in his tone that I expected him to curtsey.
Apparently being Ares commanded a lot of fearful resect.
“Make sure it has a view of Saint Pancras station.” Ares’s voice was entirely without inflection. It was neither haughty nor friendly. This must be his Enforcer In Public voice.
“Then penthouse?” the clerk asked.
“That’s fine.”
The clerk passed a key over the desk. “I will bill the Vampire Court. Just let us know if we can send anything to the room.”
Ares nodded and took the key, then strode away.
“Must be convenient to be you,” I said.
“There are perks.”
Ares stepped into a ritzy elevator that was big enough to hold a football team, and pressed the button for the top floor.
“How did he know how to bill you?” I asked.
“The Vampire Court travels. We prefer nice hotels and are known among the staff. It’s just happy coincidence that this one is located across from the station.”
He stayed in this kind of place frequently? Though there was a certain elegance to his features and his walk, he was too big and too deadly-looking to ever fit in in a place like this.
But then, I’d never cared about fitting in, so why should he?
The elevator stopped on the top floor, and Ares carried me out, then found our room at the e
nd of the hall. He slipped the key into the lock, then pushed the door open. It was a large, two-bedroom suite. Wide windows gave an excellent view of the clock tower.
“Good choice.” It was suddenly clear why we were staying here.
“I thought so.” He set me down on a wide chair in front of the windows, then knelt at my side, inspecting the wound in my arm. His eyes dilated slightly, and his lips parted. The scent of his magic flared. For some reason, it made me think of arousal.
Oh boy. He really liked the look of my blood.
I swallowed hard. “You’re not going to make a meal of me, right?”’
“No.” But hunger was bright in his eyes, and he licked his lips, clearly unconscious of the motion. “Willing donors only, remember?”
“I’m not willing. Just laying that out there. Gotta have good boundaries, right?”
“Yes. Good boundaries. But this cut looks bad.”
“It’s fine, really.”
“You’re pale as a sheet and sweaty.”
“That run was a good workout.”
Carefully, he eased me out of my jacket to inspect the cut more fully. Pain sliced through me and I winced.
“You also have a cut that’s almost to the bone,” he said. “You’re in bad shape.”
“The wheezing I was doing while we ran should have told you that.”
The corner of his full lips cocked up in a half smile. “You know what I mean.”
Gently, he pushed the side of my jacket back to inspect the cut at my waist. “This one isn’t as bad, but it’s still ugly.”
“So’s your face.” Oh fates, I was a child.
“No, it’s not.”
I laughed. I might be ridiculous from blood loss and fear, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
“You were tough back there,” he said.
“It’s kinda my job.”
“Fighting demons?”
“Protecting things. I keep demon thieves from stealing the artifacts in my shop, Ancient Magic. That means fighting demons.”
“So what were you protecting back there?”
I grinned. “You, silly.”
He laughed. “You’ll have a hard time tomorrow if we don’t get these healed.”
“Yeah, I know. Can the clerk send up a healer?”
“At this hour? We’d have to go to the emergency room.”
“Ugh.” That sounded freaking awful.
“I could take care of it.” His green gaze met mine. Tension thrummed across my skin, like the air vibrated with it.