Holy Smokes Read online

  “If this door has been warded, there has to be something behind it that’s pretty important,” I said, bending down to examine the ward, which had been drawn around the door handle.

  “Makes sense to me. What are you going to do about it?”

  “I wish I knew how to unmake them like that girl we met last month.”

  “The charmer? Yeah. Handy skill, that.”

  I eyed the door and considered my options. I just didn’t have any left. “Gotta be brute force.”

  “Oh, man,” Jim said as I gripped the doorknob. “This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

  And it wasn’t. By the time I managed to wrestle the door open and shove us both through the ward guarding it, Jim had lost two booties, and my scarf had mysteriously disappeared. We looked around the small room that faced us, but there was nothing there but another dim light hanging over head, a broken wooden table lurking drunkenly in the corner, and yet another metal door.

  “Crap,” I swore to myself as I faced the rather substantial padlock that hung heavily from the door. “OK. Nothing for it. Stand back, Jim.”

  The demon retreated to the doorway we’d just come through as I took off my gloves, rubbing my hands while I focused on pulling power from the room. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t nearly as powerful as Drake’s fire—

  Or mine.

  —but it was enough to concentrate into a small ball of energy, which when hurtled into the lock, shattered it completely.

  “Nice going. Let’s hope you didn’t just release a herd of maniacs who are going to leap out and chop you up into little bitty Guardian pieces,” Jim said cheerfully as I carefully opened the door and peered inside.

  The smells hit me first, unwholesome odors that made me want to gag. But riding the stench was a scent that was totally different, one that made tears prick in my eyes as I flung the door open, throwing myself into the dark maw.

  “Aisling!” Jim called as I lurched toward an ebony shape in the darkness.

  “Drake!” I said at the same time, flinging myself on the shadow.

  “Aisling?”

  The black shape on the floor grunted as I flung myself on it, kissing every bit of him I could reach.

  “What are you doing—kincsem, stop. That was my eyeball. What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”

  Beneath me, Drake struggled to sit up.

  “It was your clever dream, you brilliant man. Although I have to say, you could have just walked up and told me where you were rather than doing that symbolism thing. Oh, dear god, are you all right?” Faint little fingers of light from the room behind us stretched across a floor that appeared to be made of dirt and rock, covered in matted straw. “You feel all right? Does anything hurt on you? Are Pál and István here, too?”

  “Yes, they’re here,” Drake answered, and beyond him, two pale faces hove into view. “We’re not hurt. What dream are you talking about? What symbolism?”

  “The dream you sent me.” I swallowed back a painful lump of tears, unable to keep from patting Drake to reassure myself that he was all right. “Thank god we guessed right. Gabriel brought us here, but he’s disappeared.”

  “Gabriel?” Drake’s eyes widened for a moment, the look of shock quickly fading to something that looked horribly like fear. “Kincsem, get up. We must get out of here, right now.”

  “Oh, god. Don’t tell me—he’s behind this, isn’t he?” I said, scrambling to my feet, my heart dropping to my stomach.

  “No. István, take Aisling. Pál, help me.”

  “Help you with what? Are you hurt? And if Gabriel isn’t the one behind you being kidnapped, who is?”

  “The time for questions is later,” István told me, limping toward me, his face dirty and bruised. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me after him toward the door.

  I couldn’t argue with that reasoning, but I am nothing if not consistent—I argued. “Drake, what the hell is going on—and who’s that?”

  An unfamiliar man emerged from the shadows, held up on either side by Drake and Pál, dirty, dark-haired and dark-eyed from what I could tell, but in far worse shape, his cheekbones pronounced, a gaunt, almost emaciated appearance to his face.

  “His name is Konstantin,” Drake answered, using one hand to shove me toward the door at which István waited. “We do not have time for this. We must get out before Gabriel finds us.”

  “I just hope you explain why you’re so afraid of Gabriel if he’s not the one who kidnapped you,” I told him as I followed István out the door. All three of them—four if you counted the fourth dragon named Konstantin—looked worse for wear, but I could see that other than some bruises and a layer of filth that would wash off, they were apparently un harmed. I wondered what Gabriel’s plan was in holding them, swearing at myself for being so foolish as to fall for his lies a second time.

  Drake looked curiously at the door I’d blasted open, narrowing his eyes when faced with the outer door, the one with the powerful wards.

  “This is going to hurt a bit,” I said, gathering my strength.

  His lips thinned at the sight of the half-opened door. “There is no other way. Do what you must.”

  It took me five minutes to get everyone through the ward. I wanted to leave the man named Konstantin for the last, but Drake insisted he go second, after István.

  “He’s in pretty bad shape now,” I grunted, shoving Jim through the ward. “If I can weaken the ward a little by sending more people through it, it might be easier on him.”

  “Do it now,” Drake ordered. “At all costs, Kostya must be freed.”

  “I’m sorry, this isn’t going to be pleasant,” I told the man as I put both hands on his back. I swung open my mental door and gathered together as much power as I could rally from the stone walls and floors, trying to shield the frail dragon as I shoved him through the ward.

  He collapsed on the other side, but István was ready for him. Drake and Pál went through with just as much difficulty, both of them pale with the strain as I forced my way through the ward.

  “That way,” I said, pointing a shaky hand to the left to indicate the way I’d initially come. “Jim, show them—oh, hell.”

  “Abaddon,” it said, leaping on the dragon that rounded the corner. It was the man I’d bound and silenced, his yell echoing down the stone corridor as Drake grabbed his neck and slammed him against the rough wall.

  The dragon slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. I said nothing as Drake held out his hand for me, skirting the unconscious dragon carefully.

  I pulled back, however, at the door leading to the outside. “This is the way we came in, but Drake, we really need to talk for a minute.”

  “We don’t have time,” he answered, opening the door. A blast of icy air whirled in through it. I put both hands on the door and closed it again.

  “Your friend there isn’t dressed for a romp outside in the blizzard,” I said quietly. “Neither are you three. You might possibly survive, although I don’t know how even a dragon can tolerate exposure to such cold, but he won’t. He’s in bad shape now, and the climb down is going to be hairy.”

  Drake hesitated.

  “Sweetie, I know we don’t have time for a lengthy conversation, but you have to answer me one question—is Gabriel responsible for kidnapping you or not?”

  “Not,” he answered, gesturing toward the crumpled body of the man at the far end of the hallway. “István, get his things. We’ll put them on Kostya.”

  “If Gabriel isn’t our enemy, then we’ve got to find him. He can help us get down off the side of this mountain.”

  “No,” he repeated, his jaw set with a familiar stubborn cast.

  “Dammit, Drake! You just said he’s not our enemy!”

  “I said he wasn’t responsible for kidnapping us—and he isn’t. But he is just about the deadliest enemy Kostya has, and above all else, Gabriel must not know of his existence.”

  My mouth hung open a moment in surprise, but before I coul
d ask what was going on, a piercing scream rent the air, dying off in a horrible gargle that hinted of a more permanent end than that of the dragon lying unconscious at the end of the hall. A man’s voice shouted, another answered, followed quickly by the sound of running feet.

  Drake sprang to action, jerking a heavy nylon parka onto the man he called Kostya, turning to open the door. But be fore he could shove the other dragon through it, Gabriel and his bodyguards burst around the corner, running for their lives toward us. He yelled something and waved his arm, skidding to a halt as the injured dragon turned to face him.

  “Kostya Fekete,” Gabriel said, his voice filled with shock. “You live.”

  “As you see,” the other dragon answered, stumbling for ward as if to meet Gabriel, falling heavily with a pained grunt.

  Drake bent to help him just as I did the same.

  “Fekete?” I asked as we hauled him to his feet. “That means black, doesn’t it? This is a black dragon?”

  Gabriel gave a sharp bark of laughter that held absolutely zero percent humor. Another shout echoed down the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Kostya. “I believe I’ve had enough of your hospitality. We are leaving.”

  “As are we,” Drake said grimly, taking Kostya’s arm. “Aisling, stay close to me.”

  “What’s going on here?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean his hospitality? The aerie belongs to Kostya? Who exactly is this guy? Someone you know?”

  “You could say that,” Drake answered, opening the door. Snow and wind swirled through it, hitting me with enough force to steal my breath. “He’s my brother.”

  15

  “I will be all right. Thank you.”

  I set down on the nightstand a carafe of water, bottle of aspirin, and bowl of ice. “Don’t mention it. I’ll have Suzanne send you up another bowl of soup in a few hours, after we know you can keep the first one down.”

  “It will stay down,” the dragon said with a stubborn set of his jaw.

  “My dear, do you not think a doctor is called for in this situation? Drake’s brother looks very ill, and although I’d never scoff at the healing power of homemade soup, I fear that even the most nourishing of meals won’t help him.”

  “He’ll be fine, Paula. A doctor looked him over while he was in Tibet.” It was a lie, but only a slight one. Gabriel wasn’t a doctor per se, but he was a healer extraordinaire, and he’d reluctantly given Kostya a clean bill of health.

  “Oh, a doctor checked him over?” My stepmother bustled around the room, being what she termed useful, although in reality she was more of a hindrance than a help. “A real one? Not one of those suspicious faith healers who pretend to pull organs out of your stomach when all the while they are really using sleight of hand with chicken livers and the like? I saw a show on those men, Aisling, and they are not to be trusted in the least. Perhaps we should call a reputable doctor to have a look at him now.”

  “It wasn’t a faith healer, I promise. Why don’t we leave Kostya alone to get some sleep?”

  “I suppose that would be best,” she said, fluffing up his pillow for the last time before heading to the door, trailing gauzy scarves and advice as she left. “It’s all very mysterious how he just appeared, though…”

  I waited until she’d drifted down the hallway to the stairs before giving the man in the bed a little smile. “You’ll have to forgive her. She means well, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

  “She is mortal,” he said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.

  “Yes, she is, and I dread trying to explain dragons and the Otherworld to her, so if you could keep the fire-breathing to a minimum, I’d be greatly appreciative. Is there anything else you’d like?”

  “No.”

  I picked up the tray and went to the door. “Try to get some sleep. I’m sure you’ll feel better afterwards.”

  Before I could close the door, his voice called out my name. “Aisling?”

  I paused and looked back.

  As seen by electric light, Konstantin Fekete—a name I was gravely informed was never used, the man in question preferring the diminutive Kostya instead—looked a far cry from the filthy, unkempt creature who crawled out of the back of the aerie prison. The long face, reddish brown hair that swept back from a high forehead, and ebony eyes were unfamiliar to me, but the jaw and chin were all Drake. Kostya shifted slightly in bed, winced as his still-healing wounds pulled, and gave me a smile filled with irony. “You are angry at Drake.”

  “That’s neither here nor there, but yes, I am.”

  “You do him an injustice. His loyalty was given to me centuries before he met you.”

  I thought about that for a moment, nodded, and left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

  Drake stood directly opposite, leaning against the wall in apparent negligence, but I knew better. His dragon fire was barely contained, indicating his emotions were running very high at the moment. “Would you prefer to yell at me now, or can it wait until later?”

  “I’m not going to yell at you,” I said serenely, and headed down the hallway to the stairs.

  “You’re not?”

  “No. There is nothing to yell at you about. About which to yell. Whatever. I am perfectly in control, and I can guarantee you there will be no yelling.”

  Drake said nothing as he followed me down the stairs. The silence lasted until my foot hit the tile floor; then I turned around and smashed the tray into his chest. “Your brother, Drake? Your brother?”

  He sighed, tossed the tray onto a side table, and taking my hands in his, pulled me back up the stairs, into our bedroom. “Yes, he is my brother.”

  “A real brother?” I asked, pulling my hands from his because we both knew full well that if I maintained any sort of physical contact with him, sooner or later I’d end up flinging myself on him in a wholly shameless fashion. “Not just a brother-in-arms, or a really good friend you think of as a brother, but an actual flesh-and-blood brother?”

  “Yes.” He stood in front of me, his hands limp at his sides. My heart wrung at the exhaustion that was clearly gripping him despite the few hours of sleep he’d managed to snatch on the plane back to England.

  He looked longingly at the bed, sighing. I poured him out a stiff belt of dragon’s blood, the spicy wine favored by dragons. He accepted it and sank with rather less grace than normal into one of the two chairs that flanked the fireplace.

  “I should go downstairs. There is much to do.”

  “There’s always much to do. Did Gabriel leave?”

  He nodded. “He wished to discuss the situation now, but I was finally able to convince him that you needed rest.”

  “Me?” I made a face. “I slept the whole way back.”

  “I admit that in this instance, I used your condition as a convenient excuse to get rid of Gabriel,” he answered, his eyes haunted. “He will return in the morning.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight, and de spite the sleep I’d had on the airplane, I was feeling as tired as Drake looked. “Yeah, well, he’s not the only one who’s been put off until then. My uncle was pretty peeved when we dropped him off at the hotel. He muttered something about having a word with me in the morning in regard to my behavior. I don’t suppose you’d like to run interference for me?”

  Drake cocked a glossy black eyebrow.

  I sighed. “I know, you have enough on your plate. I’d just like to point out the same goes for me. At least with Gabriel and Uncle Damian put off until morning it means you and I can have a little chat.”

  He pursed his lips slightly. “You want to know about Kostya.”

  “Bingo. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? His mother is Catalina? His dad was your dad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait a sec—you told me your dad died right after you were born.”

  He brushed a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with so much emotion it almost hurt to look at him. “The
phrase ‘right after’ is relative to the life span of a dragon, no pun intended. He died within a year of my birth. Kostya is my older brother.”

  My resistance failed me, just as I knew it would. Drake sent me a look that evaporated just about all my irritation, leaving me to find myself on his lap, nuzzling his neck and breathing in the wonderfully sexy scent that never failed to make my blood steam.

  He turned his head to kiss me. I caught his face in my hands and looked deep into those beautiful eyes of his. “Your brother.”

  “When you accepted the fact that we were mated, I told you there would be some things I could not share with you.”

  “Dragon things, I remember,” I said, nodding. “And I said I was sure there were some Guardian things I wouldn’t be able to spill to you, but this is bigger than just a dragon thing, Drake! This is your family! I thought I was a part of that!”

  “You are a part of it,” he answered, his hands caressing me as he pulled me down to his mouth. “You are the most important person in my life, kincsem. But there are circumstances surrounding Kostya that go beyond family and touch weyr politics. Until you so heedlessly came to rescue us, the world believed Kostya to be dead. Now five others know of his existence. What is worse is that one of their number is Gabriel. It could very well be that this exposure could mean Kostya’s destruction.”

  I let him kiss me, enjoying the taste of him as he invaded my mouth, savoring the sweetness of holding him again in my arms. But my curiosity was stronger than my desire at the moment, and I felt like I had to get a few things straight in my mind before I could concentrate on celebrating his return.

  “You keep saying things like that, but I don’t understand why. Gabriel didn’t try to attack Kostya at all. Far from it, he helped us get him down off that damned mountain. He checked him over for injuries once we got back to town. He did what he could to repair the wounds he had. Those weren’t the actions of a man with murder on his mind.”