Forged in Fire (24 page)

And Sarah’s mother, marked by another dragon. Did she know? Did Sarah? Did Nidhogg understand there was a fugitive in her midst? Perhaps it was time to contact some of the others—see if there were similar events happening in other realms. It would be good to get news of the Reavers from others. Who knows what wickedness they worked while their betters looked inward to their own kingdoms or, in some cases, to the magic of their torpor. The full might of the conclave may be required to quell a simmering revolution.

Frederick shuddered. Such was not an idle fancy. Calling a conclave; waking the slumbering ones would have dire consequences.

The last council had spawned the great migration and the settling of this new land. Would the thralls suffer as they had half a millennium ago?

Thirty-eight

I
heard the phone ringing, but
I
was spooned up against Katie, and she felt too good to move. I pulled her tighter against me, cupping her left breast and closing my eyes. I recognized the ringtone. It was Julie. I couldn’t take any more bad news just now. Besides, we were only resting.

I managed to wake Katie up by licking my way down her side and across her bottom before the phone rang again.

Julie again. I ignored it, keeping focused on the task at hand, but the phone rang again and again.

“Damn it,” Katie said, pushing my head away from her. “Will you either answer that fucking phone or turn it off?”

I grinned up at her and nipped her thigh. “Sure, hang on.”

It was cold outside the blankets, so I padded across the room quickly. I snatched the phone off the counter and started to turn it off, when I saw the text message she’d sent.

“Jesus,” I said, punching the voice mail and then the speaker button.

Katie sat up, disheveled and anxious. “Aw, come on. Come back over here and finish what you started.”

I must’ve looked pretty freaked out because she stopped teasing and got up. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

I keyed my voice mail on speaker. “Sarah, why don’t you ever answer the fucking phone?” It was Julie. Someone with her gasped.

“Sorry,” she said. “Listen, you have to call me as soon as you can. He was here, Sarah. Jesus. Frederick Sawyer came here to the apartment looking for you.”

“Damn,” Katie said, sitting down on a bar stool.

The next three messages were similar, with less cussing.

I punched in Julie’s number and set the phone on the counter. As it rang, I picked my T-shirt off the lamp and slipped it over my head. I was freezing all of a sudden.

“Sarah?” Julie answered. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home,” I said into the phone. “I’m with Katie. You’re on speaker phone. What the fuck is this about Sawyer?”

Then my world fell to the side like I’d been hit by a truck.

“Sarah Jane Beauhall,” a voice I recognized shouted into the phone. “How dare you use that kind of language?”

It was my mother. My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the floor.

“Sorry,” Julie said. “You’re shouting.”

“Is everyone okay?” Katie said into the phone. “Are you safe?”

“Yes,” Julie said. “He left, but he wants Sarah to contact him.”

I climbed to my feet looking wildly at Katie. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in years. What the hell was she doing at my old apartment with Julie?

“That’s all he wanted?” I asked once I’d managed not to fall over again.

“He left a card.”

I jotted down the number and began getting dressed. “I’ll call you back,” I said and punched the off button without waiting for a reply.

“Was that your mother?” Katie asked, covering her breasts with her arms.

“Yes,” I said, slipping on my panties. “And she can’t see you.”

She dropped her arms, but I could see she was embarrassed. “What are you going to do?”

“Easy answer,” I said, pulling my jeans off the coffee table. “Where are my boots?”

She pulled them out from behind the couch and dug the socks off the top of the television. “You can’t just leave me here,” she said, searching for her own clothes.

I sat down and stomped my feet into my boots. “I’ll need to call Nidhogg first, I think. He’s in her territory. I’m sure there’s a protocol for this.”

She walked into the other room and came back out with a dress over her head. I walked up to her, pulled her to me, and kissed her, cupping her naked ass through her dress. “I’ll have to finish that later,” I said, squeezing her cheeks in both hands.

“You know,” she said, squirming in my hands, “you could finish up now, then call Nidhogg.”

I kissed her and slid to my knees, pushing her dress up her waist. She leaned against the doorframe, put one leg over my shoulder, and cried out as I parted her with my tongue. She held onto my head, crying and shaking until finally collapsing over me, spent and whimpering.

I stood with her, helped her to the couch and lay a blanket over her. “Go to sleep,” I said. “I’ll come back when I can.”

She mumbled something and rolled over, the blanket pulled to her chin.

I grabbed my helmet and jacket, picked my keys from the rack, and slipped my phone into the jacket pocket. I’d make the call from outside so I wouldn’t bother her.

The rain was coming down sideways in the blowing wind by the time I stepped out in the vestibule of our apartment. I hated the fact that I was going out in that rain, especially with what I’d just left, but Frederick Sawyer was one predator I was not willing to ignore.

Zi Xiu answered the phone. Was she the only one left who spoke English? “I need to speak to Nidhogg,” I told her.

“She is in the library,” she said. “Is this urgent?”

“Yes,” I said. “She’d agree with me, I’m sure.”

“I will have her return your call,” she said. “There is no phone in the library.”

I hung up and waited. It only took two or three minutes for the phone to ring again, but it felt like forever.

“Yes?” Nidhogg said into the phone when I answered. “You have an urgent matter?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. The image of my mother hearing me say “fuck” was vivid in my mind. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, but something has come to my attention that I believe will be of interest to you.”

There was a pause, then a warm chuckle. “How formal of you, Ms. Beauhall. Do we trade on formalities now?”

She seemed to prefer my bluntness, my straightforwardness. And she wasn’t my mother, damn it. “No, sorry. Listen. Frederick Sawyer is in town. He went to my apartment.” I started to say old apartment, but I wasn’t sure she knew I was living with Katie. “He spoke with my mentor, my teacher, Julie Hendrickson.”

“I know of Ms. Hendrickson,” she said. “She has done an excellent job with your tutelage so far.”

“Thank you.” What the hell did she know about my life, exactly?

“You are very welcome, dear. Now listen. Here are your orders.”

Basically, with Qindra out of commission, I was in charge of things like this. I was to contact Frederick and see what his needs were. She warned me to be careful but advised it was in our best interest to keep a civil relationship with him, as he was a neighbor, if a scheming, power-hungry one.

I was just putting on my helmet when Katie came rushing out the door of our apartment. The dress was barely on her, and she showed a lot more than most kindergarten teachers would in public, but no one was there to see her. I did enjoy looking at her breasts, though.

Then I saw what she had in her hands. Gram. At least she was still in her sheath. Unlike Katie.

“You forgot your sword,” she said, a bit discombobulated. “You are taking Gram, right, Sarah? He is a dragon.”

It was tempting, but that would not be friendly, and Nidhogg said to keep it friendly. “I can’t. It would be a threat.”

“Damn, right,” she barked. “I want you coming home to me.”

I laughed. “He’s in Nidhogg’s territory. He has to adhere to a certain decorum.”

Then it was her turn to laugh. “Like the decorum Jean-Paul showed? He was her kid and he didn’t care what she thought.”

True enough, and the argument was compelling, but Nidhogg had warned me about Jean-Paul that night when we first spoke.

“Dragon, Sarah. Remember? Teeth, fire, eating people.”

“He’s not Jean-Paul,” I said gently, walking up the stairs. I took Gram from her, wrapped my other arm over her shoulders, and steered her back into the apartment. “I need to do this right, without weapons. Until I can rescue Qindra, this is my responsibility.”

“This sucks ass,” she said, pouting.

“Amen, sister.” I kissed her and directed her back toward the apartment. I opened the door, and gently pushed her inside.

“Careful,” she said, grasping my hand. “I’ll wait up for you.”

Thirty-nine

I
called the number
J
ulie had given me, and the concierge at the Fairmont Hotel in Seattle told me I was expected. Great, another ride in the freaking rain.

I was shivering my ass nearly off by the time I took the exit from I-5. Traffic was heavy, but I was on the Ducati. I took advantage of the size difference and wove between cars, edging out lights and generally raising the ire of every taxi in the metro area. I had to signal one guy with my middle finger, but he let me cut over.

By the time I pulled onto the circular drive in front of the hotel, I was pissed off and frozen. I parked the bike on the far side, near the loading dock; then I tossed my helmet to the valet and told him I’d be right back. I didn’t give him my key, though. No way I wanted him on my Ducati.

A lovely young woman in a purple dress and way too much eye makeup greeted me at the front desk. I guess I was not her typical clientele, especially with my jeans, T-shirt, and nontraditional hair cut. When I mentioned Mr. Sawyer, however, she fell into line.

Soon enough I was watching her sashay in front of me, her hips swinging like a saloon door, all the way down a long corridor to a private office. I guess if you had enough money you could have a private office in a public hotel. She held the door open and waved me through. She had a great smile, even with all the makeup. I bet she was hell on wheels.

The runes along my scalp began to tingle as soon as I moved across the threshold, pulling my attention from the girl. There was something here. Not an ambush, surely, but something new, possibilities yet unnamed.

These were different from the runes on my leg. These were a gift from Odin. His touch had marked me, put the berserker in me. They helped me to cut through the clutter in times of danger and stress. Like now, for instance.

Sawyer sat at a large table strewn with papers. An open briefcase sat on a side table, and a cell phone lay broken on the ground near the door.

“Please bring us water,” Frederick Sawyer said, a slight tremor to his voice. The young woman nodded and let the door swing shut.

He rose from the table, strode across the room, and held out his hand.

I shook it, feeling the power of him, the fire just beneath the surface. He looked haggard, fussed. I’d never seen him so off his game.

“Nidhogg sends her greetings,” I said, following the script. “And asks to what she owes this visit?”

He sniffed, looking at me quizzically. “You came here from your lover’s bed?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” I said. He already knew it, bastard. Probably smelled her on me. Dragons were freaky. “Would you have preferred I waited to shower before answering your urgent request?”

He waved his hand in the air, dismissing my comment. “You are a joy to know, Ms. Beauhall. I am glad we have the love of women in common. Gives us a place to build a relationship.”

I bit my tongue and smiled. “Why are you here?”

“I have business in the city,” he began, sitting on the long leather couch and gesturing to a leather chair. “One of my—operatives, let us say—was killed recently.”

“Killed how?”

Patience was not his strong suit, and he didn’t see me as an equal. But he respected me. I was surprised by that insight.

“Murdered by most foul means,” he said. “Ritual murder. Not unlike several others in the region.”

Of course my mind went straight to Justin. Why did Frederick Sawyer have an employee working in Nidhogg’s territory? And if she was one of those Justin had murdered, did that mean Frederick Sawyer was spying on me?

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, mustering as much sympathy as I could.

“My thanks.”

He seemed to mean it, too. That’s what seemed wrong with him. He was flustered and somewhat confused—out of his element. And where was his businessman, Mr. Philips?

“As it is,” he continued, leaning back and crossing one knee over the other, “I wanted to ensure that her eminence was aware of my little visit to the Emerald City. I do not want to cause an incident like we had in May.”

Incident? Well, from his point of view, sure. He lost his stake in Flight Test, which I ended up getting half of. Nidhogg kept the other half.