“How did you know it was here?”
She came to a halt a few steps from the empty throne, her hand absently stroking the medallion hung around her neck. It was a gesture that revealed she was more nervous than she wanted to admit.
“I devoted a number of years to studying obscure histories and forgotten languages,” she said, her tone distracted. “In one I discovered the rumors of a . . .”
He shifted back to study his companion’s perfect profile. “A what?”
“It’s difficult to translate, but I suppose the nearest description would be hall of records.” She shrugged, her explanation smooth. Too smooth. She was hiding something from him. “Or a library, if you prefer.”
“I crawled through the muck to come to a library?”
She turned to meet his chiding gaze. “Where else do you go when you need information?”
“Google?”
She shook her head. “Google doesn’t have the answers we need.”
He pointed a sword toward the mirrored walls that were markedly devoid of books. As far as he could see, it looked more like a room Paris Hilton would choose, not a scholar.
There was something she wasn’t telling him.
“And this place does?”
“The actual texts are protected by a very special guardian. We must wait for an invitation to go further.”
“Perfect.” He rolled his tight shoulders. He wanted out of the strange fold in space; it felt too much like a trap. “I’m still curious about how you found this place. Did one of your texts have a map?”
“Something like that.”
Hmmm. What the hell was she hiding?
A familiar warning flared through his blood, distracting him from the suspicion that he should have asked a lot more questions before entering Wonderland.
“You do know that dawn is only an hour away?”
“We’ll be safe here.”
“You’re sure?”
“Trust me.”
About to remind her that she’d given up the right to trust when she’d disappeared on him without a word, he caught a faint scent wafting beneath the doors.
Tilting back his head, Santiago tested the air, his predatory senses on full alert. “Do you smell that?”
Nefri gave a calm nod. “Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Dragon.”
“Mierda.” Santiago’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you have a death-wish?”
Chapter 15
Nefri was an ancient vampire of immeasurable strength and a clan chief who’d led her people for centuries with a combination of compassion and a shrewd intelligence.
Among many, she was considered almost a god.
But she was also a woman. And she wasn’t above taking pleasure in the sight of Santiago’s stunned disbelief. He was always so damned arrogantly confident.
Not that she blamed him for his reaction. Dragons would make any demon run in the opposite direction.
Even the mighty vampires.
Not only were dragons capable of destroying their enemies by breathing fires that reached nuclear-level status, but they possessed magic as old and powerful as the universe.
The only good thing was that the rare, reclusive creatures had little interest in the mortal world, and often disappeared for several millennia at a time.
“There’s no need to get excited,” she murmured.
He stared at her as if she was demented. A legitimate hypothesis, she wryly accepted, shivering as icy prickles teased over her skin.
Any female would have to be insane to be more distracted by a sexy vampire who was arousing her with nothing more than the brush of his power, than the approaching dragon who could roast her with an accidental burp.
“You bring me to a dragon’s hoard and you tell me not to get excited?”
“You will never find a larger collection of ancient texts,” she explained.
“Yeah, guarded by a lethal, bat-crazy lizard who can charbroil us with a yawn.”
Nefri stilled, abruptly puzzled by Santiago’s reaction. “I’m surprised.”
“That I let myself be led to certain death?” he muttered. “Yeah, me too.”
“No, that you so easily accepted my explanation.” She studied his unreasonably beautiful face. “Most demons no longer believe in dragons.”
“During my years in the pits I was locked in the catacombs with a number of interesting demons, including a clan chief.” His smile was without humor. “It’s amazing what a person will reveal when they face death on a nightly basis.”
Nefri gave a slow nod. Clan chiefs were strongly discouraged from discussing the trials they endured, even with each other. No doubt in an attempt to add mystery to the process of becoming a chief.
But there were always exceptions. Including Nefri, who didn’t hesitate to question chiefs on their own experiences.
“Ah, he revealed the secrets of the battles of Durotriges.”
“Only small bits and pieces.” Santiago gave a lift of his shoulder. “He claimed he fought a dragon.”
“It’s my hypothesis that the creature was a half-breed. Which meant . . .” She waved a hand to indicate their elegant surroundings.
“That there must be a full breed around somewhere,” he easily followed her implication.
“One who could enter this world,” she said. “At least, that was the hypothesis.”
“Your hypotheses tend to have an uncanny habit of being proven right.”
She wrinkled her nose. During her battle with the strange lizardlike creature with leathery wings who’d nearly barbecued her during her last trial, she’d become convinced there had to be some truth to the ancient rumors of dragons. Unfortunately, the folklore of the beast had become so twisted over the centuries it was almost impossible to discover what was truth and what was myth.
“This one was more difficult than others to prove one way or another. There’s very little information on dragons.”
“What about other clan chiefs?” he demanded. “Surely they must have investigated the truth of dragons if they had to fight them?”
“From the few chiefs who would discuss their trials, I learned that the battles are never the same for any of us.” That was an understatement. The trials were so wildly different for each combatant that Nefri had wondered if they actually were sent to different places. Then, she’d become convinced they all went to the same place only at different times. She couldn’t prove her theory, of course, but the idea that the battlegrounds floated in a different space-time continuum was the only thing that made sense.