From the far door, Pearl and Opal appeared. They hovered in the tall ceiling. Everything in the room stopped except the hovering scarlet lizard, the arcenciels, and Angie. The dragons, the lizard, and my godchild met gazes, back and forth. The flapping lizard wings sent Angie’s lose red-gold hair back like a fan. The little girl tilted her head. The red lizard flipped energetically. Slowly, Angie held out her hand. The lizard back-winged away and in closer, but didn’t land.
The rainbow dragons were watching Angie and the lizard. I maneuvered around the kids, which placed me in front of EJ, next to Angie. Quint and the security team eased up between the rainbow dragons and us all.
From the open gym door, Brute trotted in, taking a place next to Angie. A grindylow was on his back, and it stood up on Brute’s shoulders. It growled at the dragons, clacking its claws, the razor-sharp steel glinting in the lights.
The lizard flew close to the werewolf and landed on Brute’s back next to the grindy and promptly bopped his nose on the grindy’s like a dog saying hello. The grindy mewled like a cat, sheathed its weapons, and wrapped its arms around the lizard in what was either the cutest hug on record or the beginning of a bloody battle.
The vamps in the room were riveted by the tableau, on the paranormal creatures interacting in their workout and challenge room.
The arcenciels shot rainbow lights into the gym, flipped end over end, and flew out the far door, tails snapping.
Several vamps exhaled as if in awe. Or maybe pain.
The werewolf and his burdens followed the dragons.His riders were still hugging, which was freaking adorable. And there was no blood. Wins all around.
“Sooo. Okaaay.” I was still on my knees and I hadn’t drawn a weapon, my arms touching the children instead, ready to pull them away.
At my right and left, Quint and Blue Voodoo shifted, aiming from side to side. Angel Tit was in the hallway, covering our six.
“Ant Jane, was that a baby dragon?” Angie asked. She turned wide eyes to mine. “Is it yours?”
“I don’t think it’s a baby, Angie. I don’t think it’s really an arcenciel. And I think it belongs to itself. Gee? Whatisthat flying lizard?”
Gee, who was still on his knees after the groin strike, made it to his feet. “Originally, I believe it was a slightly reddish garden lizard from Mexico, perhaps from the anole family. But its former master allowed it to sip on his vampire blood for a number of years and it became brilliant red.” Gee smiled. “And then it came to me. And it has sipped on my blood for some time now. It has grown larger and stronger and it grew wings. It understands three languages, and occasionally is willing to do tricks and small chores, though not with any dependability. In that respect it is very like yo— like a cat.” He chuckled as if I had caught him out in a near insult.
But then, I wasn’t willing to doanytricks.
Cats do not fetch like dogs,Beast thought.Cats are vengeful and tricky...
The lizard flew into the room again and sped from corner to corner, sniffing at light fixtures and HVAC ductwork. Longfellow’s wings whizzed-flapped, like an electric fan slightly off balance. It dove at us like a hawk, pulled up short, and hovered in front of me, then in front of Angie, who again offered her arm as perch. He—it—ignored her arm.
Gee made a circle with his arms and said something fast in Spanish. The lizard hopped through, flapping its wings. “Good little Longfellow,” Gee said, and gave the dragon a treat from his pocket like an animal trainer.
“But what is it to the arcenciels?”
“They have not shared the answer to that questionwith me. It is not the male of their species, as there is no male of their species. They seem to know what it is, and that it is not supposed to be. It is my impression that they have seen it in the timelines and that its appearance is portentous. So far as I know, this creature is a lovely new thing, Little Goddess, and such new things are rare and delightful. I am entranced to see where it shall take us all.”
The lizard flipped its tail and somersaulted in midair, darted up, and landed on a light fixture overhead. Our entire group stepped back, loosening our defensive circle, relaxing from battle-ready to merely alert. The vamps and Quint replaced weapons into their various sheaths and holsters.
“Stupid lizard,” Angie grumbled, dropping her arm. To me she said, “Show me what you found, Ant Jane.”
The danger—if there had really been any—was over, so I unpocketed the two icons. I showed the little witch the Jesus focal and the key. “We used your little Jesus statue to find the key,” I said.
“Ohhh. It’s silver,” Angie said, “like a necklace part.”
EJ gave an uninterested frown and raced back to Gee. He leaped into the air and landed against the poor abused Mercy Blade’s middle. Gee grunted again. I couldn’t help my soft laugh. Poor little bird.
“I saw something when I was waking up this morning.” Angie tapped the gold Jesus. “The one who owns this will help to save my angel, but you have to save her first.” She twirled away, shouting for EJ to follow, and raced around the gym. They were intercepted by one of the human blood-servants watching over them while the Everharts worked.
I wasn’t sure what to make of anything that had just happened, but I knew it was all probably important. Maybe vital. Maybe foretelling something deadly. How was I supposed to deal with stuff I didn’t understand?
Bruiser, who had entered during the abuse of Gee DiMercy and the lizard antics, was standing nearby. He offered his hand to help me up, in that gentlemanly way of his, and though I didn’t need the help, I did want his handin mine. He tucked my fingers into the crook of his arm and tugged me to the door. “Let’s step into the small sitting room across the hall.”
The hallway outside the gym had two locker rooms and a small sitting room where I had taken tea and met with visitors from time to time. We sat, and Quint closed the door on us, leaving us in privacy.
“May I see the crucifix and the key again?” he asked, taking a seat beside me and pulling the small tea table over.
I placed the icons on the table. He pulled out a jeweler’s loupe and lifted it to his eye, then tilted the crucified Jesus amulet so the overhead light caught the gold. “There is a maker’s mark on the back, perhaps ‘MD’ and a tiny fleur-de-lis.” He tilted it again. “And the numeral forty-two,” he said. “Probably the year, so 1842.” He tapped his earbud. “Alex, did you get that? Yes. Thank you.”
