Fire Marked, Page 2

  Lachlan furrowed his brow. “Compulsion, maybe?”

  “Compulsion wears off,” I said. “You can compel someone, but the minute they’re out of your presence, it goes away.”

  “Yeah, that wasn’t the case with Darla Tell,” said Lachlan.

  “She was ridiculously powerful,” I said. “She had the magic of god-knows-how-many magical prisoners coursing through her.”

  “And Alastair?” said Lachlan. “His compulsion was more than normal too.” Alastair was my ex, the abusive man who I’d been dragon-bonded to, but escaped from. Darla Tell had killed him trying to extract all his power. She was locked up in Roxbone Prison for Magical Creatures now.

  “Okay,” I said. “You’re right. But I can’t believe there’s really a conspiracy to cover up rogue dragons. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Clarke chuckled. “Life doesn’t make sense.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Sure it does.”

  She shook her head.

  Lachlan finished his whiskey. He poured himself more and gestured with the bottle to Clarke.

  She wrinkled up her nose again. Then shrugged and held out her glass.

  Lachlan poured.“So, that’s how you find out about rogues? You hear about attacks over the police scanner?”

  “Sometimes,” she said, knocking back the drink quickly. She grimaced a little after she swallowed. “But I track them too. I have a talisman that helps me follow their trail. The talisman senses magic. I tracked this one here. But at this point, I’m starting to think that I should just camp out on the beach here and wait, since all the dragons are coming here.”

  “Yeah, that’s strange,” said Lachlan. “We’ve never seen a rogue here before.”

  “And I’ve never experienced anything like this,” said Clarke. “Rogues don’t congregate in a certain spot. They’re not smart enough for anything like that. Everything about them is random and haphazard. It’s why they’re so dangerous.”

  “But they’re magic,” I said. “They have magic, like other dragons?”

  “Sure,” said Clarke.

  “So maybe something magical is drawing them here,” I said. “Something about the hotel?”

  “Maybe,” said Clarke.

  “If we could figure out what it was,” I said, “then we could maybe block it somehow, stop them from coming here.”

  “I think we should,” said Lachlan. “We need to do whatever we can. I don’t want rogues around here after the baby’s born.”

  * * *

  “So, what was that all about?” said Connor Beckett, who was working the front desk in the hotel that night. He was a gargoyle, so he was only awake at night. During daylight, he turned to stone. Now, he looked like living stone—gray skin, chiseled features—from the tips of his wings to his toes. “I thought I heard stuff breaking. I didn’t want to leave my post, though, unless it was obviously Armageddon.”

  “Another dragon,” I said. “I guess this stuff about rogues is true. Those things are like rabid animals or something. Crazed.”

  Connor made a face. “You’re kidding me? First the stuff about feral drakes is true and now the rogue dragons? Are there going to be mindless, killer gargoyles next? Am I going to turn into one?”

  “Don’t jinx us,” I said, only partly joking.

  He grinned at me, anyway.

  “We think there might be something up with the hotel,” said Lachlan. “Something that’s drawing them here.”

  “Ooh,” said Connor. “Like maybe this was once the site of a coven of mages who left magical residue everywhere or something?”

  “Maybe something like that,” said Lachlan.

  “I’m going to be up all night,” said Connor. “Want me to do some research?” He gestured to the computer at the front desk. “If there’s anything to know about the hotel on the Internet, I’ll find it out.”

  “That would actually be really great,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “Not a problem,” said Connor. “Now, you just get my little nephew there back to sleep. You should not be up in the middle of the night in your condition.”

  I laughed. “Okay, I’m off to bed.” Connor had taken to calling my little guy his nephew, even though we were obviously not blood related. I liked it, though, because I did feel as if we were family. Connor was one of my best friends, and he was as close as a brother. Besides, I was an only child, and so was Lachlan, so our baby wasn’t going to have any actual uncles.

  Connor wagged his finger at Lachlan. “You really should be taking better care of her, you know.”

  Lachlan raised his eyebrows. “Have you ever tried to tell this woman what to do?”

  Connor spread his palms. “Okay, point. Still. Try harder.”

  Lachlan and I both laughed.

  We thanked Connor again for doing research and then we climbed up the steps back to my apartment.

  I went back to my bedroom and climbed into bed. I struggled with the pillows again, trying to get comfortable.

  Lachlan climbed in next to me. He waited while I thrashed around a little, trying positions.

  Finally, I settled on my side, a pillow shoved behind my back and another between my legs. I closed my eyes. I really was tired.

  “You know,” said Lachlan. “If this hotel really is a magnet for rogue dragons, that’s just another good reason for you to move into my place.”

  I yawned. “I’ll think about it.” Right then, that big body pillow he had was sounding pretty good.

  * * *

  “So, it’s interesting that Connor brought up the feral drakes,” said Lachlan, handing me coffee in a cardboard cup. It was early afternoon, and I found that I started to drag around then in the day. My doctor said that a small cup of coffee was okay while I was pregnant, so I’d started having a little in the afternoon. I didn’t drink it in the morning. In the first trimester, the thought of coffee had made me want to vomit. Now, I didn’t feel I needed it. In the morning, I felt like I had boundless energy.

  I took a sip of my coffee, following Lachlan out to his car. “You think it’s related to the rogues?”

  “It seems like the same sort of thing, doesn’t it?” He looked over his shoulder, waiting for me to catch up.

  “Yeah, but what could be happening to dragons that would make them turn into monsters like that?” I said. “With the drakes, they have to eat meat of some kind. Dragons don’t have anything like that.” Drakes were dragon-human hybrids. They were people who experimented with eating dragon flesh, which was often dried and powdered and sold as a popular street drug. Then the drug users died with the flesh in their system. When they came back, they were immortal and mutated. This happened more often than one might think. Eating dragon flesh had magical side effects, and it tended to produce a high in which the user felt invincible. It was also highly addictive.

  “But it’s all the same magic that makes us, well, magical,” said Lachlan. He was a vampire, and vampires became that way by dying with dragon blood in their system. Then they stayed alive only by drinking blood (didn’t have to be dragon blood, though). Similarly, drakes needed flesh to survive—or at least, not to go feral and crazy. “All our magic comes from dragons. So, maybe when things go wrong, it’s a similar mechanism or something.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess maybe that makes sense.”

  “I guess Clarke’s sort of right,” he said, stopping in front of his car. “It almost doesn’t matter how they got that way. The important thing is keeping them from hurting you or the baby.”

  “Or you,” I said.

  “Or me,” he said. “Or anyone.”

  We got into the car.

  Lachlan got out his sunglasses and put them on.

  “It does matter, though,” I said.

  “What does?” He started the car.

  “How they got that way. If we knew how it was happening, we could maybe stop it from happening.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.” He pulled the car out of its sp
ace. “Speaking of knowing why something’s happening, did Connor have any luck researching the hotel?”

  “Oh, he was asleep when I woke up,” I said. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

  “Right,” said Lachlan. He gripped the steering wheel as he drove us out onto the street.

  “So, where are we going again?” I said. “This case is about gargoyles?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Uh, we’re going to interview them about some stolen magical artifacts.”

  “Why do the gargoyles have magical artifacts?” I said. Gargoyles were magical creatures, but they didn’t have accessible magic to do telekinesis or compulsion or anything like that. They had super strength, and they were impenetrable to fire. Mages had created them to protect them from dragons centuries ago.

  “I don’t know, exactly,” he said. “I think it’s something like they are a clan of gargoyles that stayed with their mage master, even after gargoyles were emancipated, and they inherited all his stuff, including his talismans and artifacts and things.” Gargoyles had been slaves to mages until about a generation ago, when they had finally been freed and granted citizen-hood.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. “And the artifacts were stolen?”

  “Yeah, there was a break-in,” he said. “A lot of expensive magical stuff was taken.”

  “Who would do that?” I said.

  “Well, that’s what we’re going to try to figure out,” said Lachlan.

  * * *

  Jacqueline Stone, matriarch of the Stone clan, drew herself up. She was gray and chiseled and beautiful, a living work of art. She wore her dark hair in a severe bun on top of her head. “I certainly hope you’re able to do something about this. It’s a travesty.”

  “I agree, ma’am,” said Lachlan. “We’re going to do our best to get to the bottom of this and return your things.”

  She looked him over. “And you have success with this kind of thing? You make a living recovering stolen objects?”

  “Well,” said Lachlan, “I work with magical creatures, so any case that has to do with drakes or dragons or gargoyles or vampires, I’m going to be involved.” That actually wasn’t strictly true these days. The Sea City Police Department had finally realized that it was ridiculous to be the city that had a reputation as being open to magical creatures and only have one officer covering those cases. So, they’d hired on Christiane Dirk, who’d been there temporarily when Lachlan had been suspended pending the investigation into Alastair’s murder. Dirk was now working there permanently.

  “And so you’ve recovered stolen magical objects before?”

  “Uh, truthfully, no,” said Lachlan.

  “Please tell me that you were at least employed in the recovery of finding stolen nonmagical objects before this job?”

  “Not exactly,” said Lachlan.

  Jacqueline pressed her lips together. “What did you do, then?”

  “Um, I’ve worked narcotics,” he said. “Lotta years in narcotics. Homicide for maybe six months before I got hired here.”

  Jacqueline shook her head slowly, clearly disappointed. She turned to me. “And you?”

  “Um, I’m the magical creatures consultant for the department,” I said. “I help the police understand things like gargoyle culture.”

  “I don’t need someone who understands our culture,” said Jacqueline. “I need someone who can find the things that were taken from me.”

  “And that’s what we’re going to do, ma’am,” said Lachlan. “So, if you can tell us if you noticed anyone suspicious around the estate before the theft?” The Stone clan lived in an old mansion that apparently used to belong to their mage master. It was sprawling, enormous, and ornate.

  “If I’d noticed anyone suspicious, I would have had them removed and increased security. The theft wouldn’t have happened. Certainly, you can do better than that.”

  Lachlan regarded her coolly. “We need a list of everything that was taken. We may have the most luck by simply waiting for the stolen items to show up for sale somewhere.”

  She sniffed. “Well, that doesn’t sound like an absolutely terrible idea. Maybe you’ll get back my artifacts yet.”

  “Oh, trust me, we won’t rest until it’s done,” said Lachlan.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I was supposed to be relaxing while Lachlan cooked, but I couldn’t help but look over his shoulder every now and again to supervise and make sure he was doing everything all right. “Are you shredding that evenly?” I said, looking at the mozzarella cheese he was shredding.

  “Does it matter?” He turned to me. “It’s going to melt on the pizza anyway. And you—go sit down and get off your feet.”

  I went back into the living room and sat down. “I’m just trying to help. Have you ever made pizza before?”

  “Penny, the crust is pre-made. The sauce is in a jar. The pepperoni is sliced. I think the hardest thing I’m doing is chopping peppers and shredding cheese, which is well within my capabilities, I assure you.”

  I tugged my knees up onto the couch and wrapped my arms around them.

  “Besides,” he told me, “I can cook. Just because I don’t do it right now doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  “Did you used to cook a lot?”

  “Not a lot, but occasionally,” he said.

  “So, what do you think about the gargoyle case?”

  “I think that matriarch gargoyle is going to be eating crow when we return everything that was stolen to her. I couldn’t believe she was so rude.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, she didn’t seem real impressed with us.”

  “I was going to pull out the whole bit about how we caught the Dragon Slasher, but I didn’t think she’d find it relevant, considering it’s not theft. But a crime’s a crime, right? Finding who stole something is just like finding a murderer.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, no, not really. It’s actually sort of different. Okay, maybe completely different. But the point is, we understand the criminal mind, you and me.” He turned to face me, gesturing between the two of us with the cheese grater.

  I snickered. “Whatever. Maybe you do. I just understand the magical creatures.”

  “Whatever,” he said. “The point is that we’re both very good at our work. And we take it seriously. I mean…” He turned back to the counter. “For a long time, all I had was work. After what happened with Hallie, I threw myself into it. It was everything to me. But now, I have you, and the baby, and…” He set down the cheese grater. “But that doesn’t mean that work is not important to me, you know? Because it is. Solving crimes is what I live for. I’m good at it, and—”

  There was a knock at the door.

  I jumped up off the couch to answer the door.

  “And so,” Lachlan continued, “she’s going to see that I can absolutely find her stupid magical artifacts.”

  “I’m sure she will,” I said. I opened the door.

  Connor was standing there. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Did you just wake up?”

  He yawned. “Yeah, and there was a note on my door about the research?”

  “Well, I didn’t mean for you to come up here right away,” I said. “You could have gotten breakfast first or… do you call it breakfast or dinner? Do you eat breakfast food when you get up? Like pancakes and stuff?”

  “I don’t actually eat when I get up,” said Connor.

  “How long have you known him, and you’ve never asked him this?” said Lachlan.

  I shrugged. “It never came up.” I moved away from the door. “Come in, Connor.”

  “I usually wait an hour or two to eat after I get up,” said Connor as he came inside. “Then I might eat anything. Maybe hash browns. Maybe pizza.”

  “Oh, you want to stay and eat with us?” I said, sitting down on the couch. “Lachlan’s making pizza.”

  “Nah,” said Connor. “Thanks, though.”

  “I’m a good cook,” said Lachlan. “I swear.”

 
; Connor laughed. “I’m sure you are. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Just not in a pizza mood.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Probably a good thing, because I’m going to eat a lot. I am going to feed my enormous belly.”

  “You don’t have an enormous belly,” said Connor.

  “No, I like it,” I said, smoothing a hand over the swell of it. “It’s cool. I just wish more people noticed. No one asks me when I’m due.”

  “That’s because you don’t look pregnant,” said Connor.

  “I do so,” I said. “Lachlan, I look pregnant, don’t I?”

  Lachlan turned to us, twisting the lid off a jar of sauce. “Um, I plead the fifth.”

  “I like looking pregnant,” I said. “You can tell me that I’m huge. I want to be huge.”

  Lachlan shook his head. “It’s a trap. I’m fairly sure that no matter what I say, it’ll be the wrong thing.”

  “Okay,” said Connor, sitting down next to me on the couch. “I’ll be real with you here. Yes, because I know you, I know that your belly is a little bigger than it used to be. But you still don’t look pregnant. And if someone didn’t know you, they would have no idea.”

  I pouted. “Seriously? Lachlan, is that true?”

  “Not answering,” he said.

  I stuck out my lower lip. “I want to look pregnant now.”

  Connor patted my hand. “You do look all glowy, though. And your hair is really shiny.”

  I ran my fingers through it, smiling. “Thank you.”

  He grinned back. “Just saying the truth.”

  “So, what did you find out about the hotel?” I said.

  “Oh, right,” he said, handing over some printed out pages. “There was a murder here.”

  “What?” I sat up straighter. “When?”

  “Um, like fifteen years ago,” said Connor. “And not just any murder. Like this guy took his family on vacation and then shot them all in their beds while they were sleeping.”

  My jaw dropped. “That’s awful. What room did it happen in?”