Dragon Gate (14 page)

“Do they have any magic?”

“Not that I’m aware of. The Marshalls don’t either, but the Marshalls may have access to a few individuals who do. That’s all I’m at liberty to say. I warned Jonathan that they might have some magic on their side.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, Mike.”

“I know that. If you wanted to hurt me, I’d be in pain right now.”

“See? You know me so well.”

“I also know you’re willing to hurt me if I don’t tell you what you want to know.”

“Bingo. Give the man a dollar.”

“The truth, Ms. Chan, is that I don’t know enough about the Marshalls to be of any help.”

“That’s fine. However, you might have mentioned that the Nobles aren’t exactly human. That would have been good to know in advance.”

“It wasn’t pertinent to the job. Nor should it matter now. They’re human enough.”

“Do you know why the Marshalls want to kill the Nobles?”

He nodded. “I do but I can’t tell you that.”

“You mean won’t.”

“No, Ms. Chan. I mean I can’t. I am physically unable to discuss their history with you. Nor can I write it down for you. When Stephen joined the board, he had all of us sign a nondisclosure agreement, and as you may be aware, nondisclosure agreements are magically binding at DGI. There were only a few things I was permitted to say when I gave Jonathan the job, and I promise you I told him everything I could.”

“They came through the Dragon Gate,” I said.

He smiled. “I’m not at liberty to discuss their history, Ms. Chan.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about the Marshalls that doesn’t violate your nondisclosure agreement?”

“I’ve told you all I can, Ms. Chan.”

I nodded. “Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Next time you’d like to come see me, please make an appointment.”

“Why?”

“Aside from it being the proper thing to do, it will save Phil from having a heart attack.”

I grinned. “But that’s half the fun of coming here.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Can I at least tell Phil you won’t hurt him again?”

“I haven’t hurt him in nearly a year.”

“I know but can I tell him?”

“You can tell him anything you like. I doubt he’ll believe you. I can’t help it if I make a strong impression.”

He chuckled. “You have a nice day, Ms. Chan.”

The elevator took me back to the lobby, and I gave Phil a great big smile. “Thanks for the taste test,” I said and licked my lips.

He tried not to look afraid, but sweat beaded up on his forehead in spite of the air conditioning.

I left DGI, crossed the street to the Starbucks, and went directly to their back room. Nobody tried to stop me, but then they probably thought I was heading for the restroom. In their back room, I flipped a switch behind a file cabinet, which slowly swung out to reveal a small door that led to a corridor. There used to be wards set on that door, but as I was able to pass through, either they were no longer there or they were for only mundanes. That corridor led to a staircase that went down into the deep, dark black. There used to be an elevator too, but it was destroyed and never replaced. I didn’t mind taking the stairs.

It had been nearly a year since I’d been down in the tunnels beneath DGI. If I’d been thinking, I’d have grabbed a flashlight from my car. I used my cell phone for illumination instead and moved into the long tunnel. I saw sconces on the walls, but they required magic to activate them. The tunnel itself was uneven and rocky. You’d think the wizards who created this place could have smoothed out the walls, but I liked the nod to nature. After all, those rocky walls could be helpful in a fight. You could easily kill someone with some of the jutting stones. I tend to appreciate that sort of thing.

The last time I was here, Jonathan and I fought wizards and an ancient sorcerer who tried to open the Dragon Gate.

We’d had help from Jonathan’s ex-friend Sharon that day. I didn’t think I’d ever see the gate again, but now I could see the soft red glow on the rocks.

I let my phone go dark. The gate threw enough light on the walls that I could see well enough, though everything was tinted orange and red.

The wards that normally held the gate closed were in place, but I could smell something that reminded me of a campfire. The gate itself didn’t give off any aroma. I pulled out my phone and used it as a light source again. When I aimed the light at the wall, I saw a huge area of stone burned black as the handle of my katana. I leaned close and sniffed.

Sure enough, the smell of burned wood was strong there.

I looked at the floor and saw a bunch of scuff marks as if something heavy had been dragged from right in front of the gate and down the hall. Had the light been better as I’d approached, I suspect I’d have seen the marks all along the floor. The bottom edge of the gate showed signs of scuffing too. Something had definitely come out recently.

I knelt and ran my fingers over the scuffs on the floor. Whatever made those scuffs must have been extremely heavy because there were deep gouges in the stone. I followed the scuffs for a few yards, but they ended suddenly. Had someone picked up whatever had been dragged? Or perhaps used magic to levitate it? I had no clue.

I looked back at the gate. Jonathan believed it was a dimensional portal to another world, which meant our enemies were indeed interdimensional visitors. The old Jonathan would have tossed off a few jokes about that bad Indiana Jones movie with the flying saucer. I would have rolled my eyes, but truth be told, I missed my friend.

JONATHAN SHADE

When I sat up in bed, my chest throbbed with a dull pain. I worked my shoulder around a bit, hoping to loosen things up. A bit of stretching seemed in order. I didn’t mind the pain. I’d certainly experienced far worse.

I got up, and glanced out the window to make sure it hadn’t snowed. The sun was out, and there were few remnants of the night’s rain. I grabbed a shower, dressed, and grabbed my keys and wallet. Then I went down to the kitchen. Two women sat at the kitchen table, eating waffles and bacon. I’d never seen them before. They looked like twins, and if Tori Amos had been there, they could have been triplets. The women had to be in their early twenties, so I figured they were Lucas’s daughters.

They turned to look at me as I entered. “Good morning,” Tori the first said. “You must be Jonathan.”

“Guilty,” I said. “And you are?”

“I’m Chantelle and this is Tess.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Father didn’t tell us you were so handsome,” Tess said and giggled. Chantelle giggled too.

The giggling ruined the compliment. I felt a hypothesis forming in my mind that giggling automatically lowers the IQ of all who hear it. I didn’t want to test that hypothesis. While the women had seemed attractive at first, that faded quickly as they kept up with the giggling.

“Is there more bacon?” I asked.

“In the refrigerator,” Tess said. “Would you like us to fix it for you? As you’re looking out for us, we’d be happy to do anything you like while we’re here.”

“Anything,” Chantelle said, giving me a sultry look.

The innuendo wasn’t lost on me, but remember, they had been giggling. “I think I can manage.”

I opened the refrigerator. It was incredibly well stocked. My own refrigerator had a few condiments and a jar of sun tea. Maybe a green onion that needed to be tossed out. The Nobles had a variety of meats, vegetables, drinks, containers of leftovers, jars of stuff I couldn’t recognize but were no doubt expensive spreads, and all of it was neatly arranged.

Jenkins entered the room while I searched for the bacon.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Just looking for some bacon,” I said.

“Allow me,” he said. “You’re moving things around, and I’ll never be able to find what I need.”

I stepped back and he quickly arranged the meats. I’ll bet he was a whiz at Tetris. He removed a packet of bacon.

“Thanks, Jenkins. Got some paper towels around here?”

“Whatever for?”

“So I can nuke the bacon.”

“Good heavens, Mr. Shade. A microwave literally rearranges the molecules of food. In my kitchen, it’s used only for boiling water. Sit down. I’ll prepare breakfast for you. Would you care for eggs, toast, pancakes?”

“Sure.”

I took a seat at the table with the two redheads. They looked at each other and, yes, they giggled again. If I’d had Lucas’s phone number, I’d have called him and told him to come pick up his girls. Instead, I forced a smile, which elicited, you guessed it, still more tittering.

“Where is everyone, Jenkins?” I asked to avoid having to talk to the girls.

“Mr. Easton is guarding Rayna and Graham at The Steam Room. I’m not sure where Ms. Chan went, but she said she’d be back this afternoon. As you can see, Lucas sent his daughters over, but he kept his sons with him.”

“We were thinking about taking a shower,” Chantelle said, placing her hand on my knee.

“You could join us,” Tess said with a grin, and you know what they did.

“Maybe next time,” I said.

“We’ll hold you to that,” Tess said, and cue the broken record again.

“We’d love to hold you,” Chantelle said.

They rose, held hands, and left the kitchen, stopping to glance over at me before they went. “We love to share too.”

I heard them giggling all the way down the hall.

“Hey, Jenkins?”

He turned to face me, frying pan in hand.

I cocked a thumb toward where the girls had gone. “What the hell is wrong with those two?”

“I daresay, sir,
every
thing.”

“So it’s not just me.”

“One of them grabbed my privates this morning,” Jenkins said as he placed bacon in the pan. “She offered to do some rather odd things to my genitals.”

“That’s just gross.”

“I was mortified.” He didn’t look at me. He cracked eggs and added some milk to them before using a whisk to stir them up.

“But tempted, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you are here to serve.”

Now he looked at me. “I’m beginning to see why Graham despises you, sir.”

I shrugged. Kelly wanted me to try to joke around more, and I was trying, but clearly I’d lost my touch.

“Just messing with you, Jenkins. How well do you know Lucas and his girls?”

He went back to cooking. “Not well. Nor do I want to know them.”

“So they don’t spend much time over here.”

“I’ve been with the Noble household for five years now, sir. This is the first time I’ve met the daughters. I’ve met Lucas Noble and his two sons precisely once. He didn’t socialize with his family, though I understand he and Stephen had lunch each week.”

“Have you noticed anything odd about Graham or Rayna in the time you’ve worked for them?”

He turned the bacon. It smelled good. “Odd? Whatever do you mean?”

“You know, weird. Strange behavior?”

“Sir, the Nobles are wealthy. As such, any strange behavior, as you put it, would be considered eccentric.”

“Fine. Any eccentric behavior?”

“Not in the way you mean, sir. Graham insists on having the crust removed from his bread. He gives the crust to a neighborhood boy to feed to the ducks in a nearby pond. Neither Graham nor Rayna ever seem to go out on dates with anyone these days. They spend a great deal of time together, but they are not incestuous, so you needn’t concern yourself about that.”

“Good to know.”

“While I’m not particularly fond of you, sir, I must say that I am pleased that you and your friends are looking out for the Nobles. This dreadful business with the Marshalls had me very worried, so I appreciate your work.”

“You say that like you already know the Marshalls.”

“I knew Jacob and Francis. They’ve been here before.”

“When?”

“Six months ago. They lived here for a few months. They spent a great deal of time trying to talk Graham into going home with them.”

“Just Graham?”

“They wanted Stephen as well, but Stephen only visited twice in the time I’ve been here. Graham and Rayna always went to his house.”

“Where is his house?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you there. I’ve never been.”

“All right. Tell me about Jacob and Francis.”

“They were nice gentlemen. Very old-fashioned. I liked them. They had a sense of propriety about them. They were wonderful guests until the day they left.” He shook his head. “That was a day I’ll never forget.”

“What happened?”

“It’s not my place to discuss that, sir. You might ask Rayna about it. Breakfast is ready.”

He served up a plate of bacon, eggs, and an English muffin. I guess the pancakes would have taken more effort.

“Thanks, Jenkins.”

“Would you like orange juice with that?”