The Dragon Conspiracy (22 page)

Ian extended his right hand. “I’d stand, but I think I’m all that’s holding her up.”

Rake took my partner’s hand and shook it. In his other hand was the Queen of Dreams.

I couldn’t wait for some sleep and dreams of my own.

The diamond still had a residual glow from Ben’s touch. The goblin met my eyes and winked. “I told you pink was evil.”

“Hey, I never said I doubted you—on that.”

I hadn’t doubted that pink was evil, but I had doubted Rake Danescu—though not nearly as much as Ian. He’d had reason to; he knew the goblin better.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Ian told Rake. “Thank you.”

To Ian’s credit, he didn’t choke on any of those words. Though he did pause a wee bit before the last two.

The goblin inclined his head in acknowledgment. “From what I understand, Makenna’s eavesdropping on Viktor Kain sealed the deal.”

We’d probably never know if Rake had agreed to help because he knew that if those diamonds weren’t stopped, not only would he lose his human disguise, but everything he’d built here for himself.

Or had Rake had an actual moment of caring for someone else besides himself?

Or was it another reason entirely?

I didn’t know, and Rake would never say. Not to mention, I was too tired to waste my breath asking. He’d just answer my question with another question until I forgot what I’d asked in the first place. I ran my hand over my face. Oh yeah, I was definitely too tired for that.

Not that Rake would mind taking credit for saving every supernatural in the tristate area—it’d just be more fun to keep us all guessing as to why he’d done it.

If the goblin was going to keep popping into my life, I’d have to learn to pick my battles or he’d drive me crazy. This time it meant being satisfied with knowing what he did, but not knowing why he did it. He was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, and that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. I’d be better off just accepting that and preserving my sanity.

We looked across to where Yasha had changed more or less back into human form, and was getting Ben Sadler on his feet. Ben was tall, Yasha was much taller, but they made it work. It was a big change from just this morning when the Russian had growled when Ben had gotten into his SUV.

As Vivienne Sagadraco came back over to us, Yasha and Caera started helping Ben to the dock; one on either side of him. The big Russian was doing all of the helping; Caera with her arm around Ben’s waist was doing the holding. While I was sure Ben appreciated Yasha’s efforts, all of his attention was on Caera.

Rake was formally thanking Ms. Sagadraco for keeping Viktor Kain occupied—thus preventing the Russian dragon from ripping the roof off the pavilion like opening a trick or treat bag and snapping us up like Halloween candy. My words, not his.

“I knew there were only the four of you,” the boss said, “and that Viktor wouldn’t have let anything keep him from getting to the island and his diamonds.”

Including homicidal merpeople and the harpies with grenades.

“Also, the lab had the results of the DNA test on the remains from Bastian’s office,” she continued. “Of course, you already knew that the dead man wasn’t Bastian. Given that the victim looked exactly like him, and that Bastian had been essentially refusing to leave his house for the past few months, concluding that he’d been infected with gorgonism was a logical assumption.”

“Okay, I’m having a problem with part of this,” I said.

Ian let out a short laugh. “Only part?”

“Yeah, good point. But this one’s at the top of the list. Sebastian du Beckett picked out, lured into his home, and killed a total stranger just to throw us off his trail, so he clearly didn’t have a problem with murder. And from what I’ve heard the past few days, he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. Add willingness to murder and antisocial curmudgeon, and if anyone would be a natural as a gorgon, it would be Sebastian du Beckett. Yet to cure himself, he knocks out those harpies for six days, organizes a major jewel heist, and pisses off the likes of Viktor Kain. And if he wouldn’t leave his house, how did he put those harpies into stasis? That was done at or around Heathrow, right?”

“All excellent points, dear Makenna,” Rake said. “Though there is one more thing that bothers me, and it is not insignificant. I make it a point to know the magical capabilities of those who I may be forced to do business with. Sebastian du Beckett was a sorcerer of only moderate skill.”

“Digging into Bastian’s background, we found that his mother was a Greek sorceress who had a way with harpies,” Ms. Sagadraco said.

“I did not know about his mother, Madame Sagadraco. While pertinent, it does not negate my hypothesis. I believe that Sebastian du Beckett did not act alone. Even if he despised the very ground upon which we trod—and I will admit to having given him ample reason on occasion—his motivations felt somewhat lacking. I know you may not—”

“I agree.”

“You do?” Rake was taken aback, almost comically so.

Vivienne Sagadraco offered up an amused smile. “Is it that inconceivable that we would arrive at a similar conclusion from time to time?”

“No, it’s merely that—”

Her eyes twinkled. “See? We agree again.”

I wasn’t sure which was more fun, watching the boss toy with Rake Danescu, or seeing the goblin flustered. Nice thing was, I didn’t have to choose; I sat back and enjoyed them both.

“While Bastian’s mother was a sorceress,” Ms. Sagadraco said, “and was probably qualified to put harpies into and bring them out of stasis, it doesn’t necessarily mean that her son had the same skill.”

“Is his mother still alive?” I paused and grimaced. “Or some kind of undead?”

“Neither, Agent Fraser. She is deceased—and has remained that way. In addition to the questions raised by Bastian being in his home in New York, and the harpies shipping from London, whoever brought those harpies out of stasis would have to have been present at the museum and in the Sackler Wing within sight of the ‘statue.’ Sebastian du Beckett was not at the Metropolitan Museum that night. He was at home at the time the harpies were awakened. He was receiving a package at that time from a courier service, and he came to the door and signed for it personally.”

“Could it have been the homeless man who looked like him?” I asked.

Ms. Sagadraco shook her head. “The signature was Bastian’s, and the courier service is used for delivering high-value items. Bastian dealt in antiquities, so his brownstone was a regular stop for them. The owner of the company is familiar with the supernatural community, and since his service occasionally handles objects of a paranormal nature, he is familiar with ways that fraud and theft during delivery could occur—namely shapeshifters hired to impersonate the recipient. The delivery agent wears a lapel camera which takes a photo of the recipient. That photo is subjected to a computerized fifteen-point identification verification. Within seconds, the recipient’s identity is either confirmed or rejected. If approved, the package is retrieved from the armored vehicle and delivered.”

I whistled. “So if they said it was du Beckett, it was du Beckett.”

“They have never been wrong.”

“I use the service myself,” Rake said. “Even if Bastian had an identical twin, it wouldn’t have been a match.”

“So if du Beckett wasn’t in London, and he wasn’t at the museum,” I asked, “then who was?”

“Of the sorcerers previously unknown to us who were recorded on the Metropolitan’s surveillance cameras, four were known to be in the Sackler Wing when the theft occurred. All are accounted for except for one who has vanished, and who has a rather distinctive facial quality.”

“Let me guess, the woman who was packing more magical mojo than anyone else there?”

“The very one.”

“Have we found out anything else about her?”

“Nothing. It’s as if she didn’t exist before the night of the exhibition, and has ceased to exist now.”

Ian cast a sideways glance at Rake Danescu, but addressed his statement to the boss. “In other words, it sounds like she’s not from around here.”

“We are leaning toward an extra-dimensional being,” Ms. Sagadraco said. “Or at least one that is adept at concealing their identity by not remaining in any one dimension for too long. If she were still here, or had left, but used a mortal means of travel, there would have been some trace of a trail.”

Ian regarded Rake with suspicion. “So, Danescu, do you know any high-powered ladies who would be interested in having New York wiped clean of supernaturals and most of SPI?”

“Off the top of my head, I don’t—”

“I don’t care about the top of your head,” Ian said, his voice low and intense. “I want to hear what you
know
. You weren’t expecting Sebastian du Beckett to be here any more than we were. So who did you think you
were
going to find when you got here? You were in your boat, on the East River, and heading this way when I called you, and don’t say you were going to a Halloween party.”

“Why don’t you say what you’re thinking? That I was dressed like I was up to no good.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“And I don’t intend to.”

Ian went dangerously still. “It’s all secrets and games with you. You’re playing with lives, and you—”

Rake stepped in on him, putting them almost nose to nose. This was about to get ugly.

“My life was one of them. How dare—”

“Your life is all that matters, isn’t it? If you could no longer hide what you are from humans, all you’d have to do is go home. You wouldn’t be reduced to a pile of dust, or be on the run for the rest of your life. You risk noth—”

The goblin’s eyes blazed. “I’m risking more than you’ll ever kn—” Rake stopped and blew out his breath in a sharp hiss from between clenched teeth—and two very prominent fangs.

Vivienne Sagadraco stood.

That was all it took.

Both men immediately backed down. The top of her head barely reached their shoulders, but when you’re a dragon—and a fire-breather—the size of your human form didn’t mean a thing.

Though I think the main reason was respect.

They didn’t like each other, but Ian and Rake respected Vivienne Sagadraco, and not because she could squash them flat with one clawed foot.

Ian took a calming breath. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” His eyes stayed on Rake, but the fire was gone. “But you know how I feel abo—”

“Yes, Ian. I know.”

“My apologies if I caused offense.” Rake’s words were for Ms. Sagadraco, but his eyes stayed right where they were, on my partner.

“Rake, for the protection and continued well-being of the city that I truly believe we both hold dear, I trust that you will tell me anything you know or may discover regarding this threat.”

Rake finally looked away from Ian, turning solemn eyes on Vivienne Sagadraco. “On the honor of myself, my family, and my house, I swear.”

I didn’t know anything about goblin oaths, but that sounded impressive to me. I stole a glance at Ian. My partner looked taken aback. Another expression I’d never seen on him. Apparently that was one more serious goblin oath.

Then it was my turn to be shocked.

Ian extended his hand to Rake for the second time this evening.

Rake glanced down at Ian’s hand and then up at my partner’s face in surprise.

“I was out of line.” Ian left “this time” unsaid, but we all knew what he meant. “I meant what I said earlier. We couldn’t have done it without you—regardless of your reasons.”

After only a brief hesitation, Rake extended his own hand and shook Ian’s.

Disabling the Dragon Eggs, saving New York’s supernaturals, Ian and Rake spending hours in each other’s company without fists involved, then shaking hands twice and making nice—or at least polite. It’d been a night chock-full of miracles.

“So with du Beckett and Eddie both dead,” I said quickly, before the boys could change their minds and turn hand-shaking into arm wrestling. “They can’t tell us who they were working for or with, so we’re right back where we started from.”

“Far from it,” Ms. Sagadraco said. “The person wanted the Dragon Eggs activated, and to destroy or force into hiding tens of thousands of supernaturals. SPI New York would have been decimated and rendered ineffective for an undetermined length of time. Once again we must ask ourselves who would benefit from such a scenario and how? New York has the greatest concentration of supernatural beings in this dimension. Those who would not have died outright would have been living in fear—and SPI would have been rendered powerless to help or to stop whatever this individual planned to do when that happened.”

“They’re setting the stage,” I said. “For something they were ready to put into play immediately.”

“That is what I believe.”

“But what?”

“I’m certain we will be finding out. One doesn’t plan the destruction of thousands of supernaturals, have those plans fail, and simply give up and walk away. They will be back—that is, if they ever left. That individual was in the Sackler Wing last night. We know that. We have surveillance camera footage; we have artists’ sketches where the mortal technology failed.” Her deep blue eyes burned with a fierce glare. “We only have a few names, but we have
every
face.” Her words were clipped and deliberate. “We will start there, we will find who was responsible for this, we will learn what their next move will be, and
we will
stop them.”

I looked out over the river to the lights of the city.

Our city.

“The unknown woman will be our starting point,” Vivienne Sagadraco continued. “Though she may not be as unknown as we thought—or as well disguised as
she
believes. Our agent couldn’t get a clear look at this individual’s face. The features shifted and flowed—and the agent insisted that most of those features were male.”

We only had the moon to see by, but I clearly saw the color drain right out of Ian’s face. It was like he’d seen a ghost, but not the cold spot in a creepy old house variety; this ghost from Ian’s past haunted him 24/7/365.

The “ghoul” that led the jewel thieves that had eaten Ian’s NYPD partner and had put Ian in the hospital for a month wasn’t really a ghoul, at least not all the time. The first time I’d seen him had been on a dark street last winter. I’d only seen the bottom half of his face; the rest was covered by the brim of a hat. Even though I’d only seen half, that was plenty enough to give me a lifetime of nightmares. I got the impression of multiple faces, each different from the one before, layered one on top of another, extending into the distance like looking into a wall of fun-house mirrors.