“Long enough,” I muttered, praying they would do just that. “We’re going to have to see what’s in these rooms. You know of any way to do that without opening the doors?”

Jim sighed. “I’m not the Guardian, now, am I?”

I smiled, patting the demon on its furry head. I was starting to get wise to its ways. Whenever it mentioned Guardianhood, I knew I had whatever skill was needed…the trouble was figuring out which skill that was. I ran over my mental list of my abilities, but didn’t find one that screamed “can see through doors.” It had to be the trusty old standby. I opened the mental door in my mind and looked at the nearest metal door with my enhanced vision, seeing nothing but a dense bit of metal. The door farther along the passage was the same—just a door. But when I turned to look at the door to my right, a ward flared to life for a second, the intricate knot that made up the ward glowing silver in the air before dissolving to nothing.

“If this door has been warded, there has to be something behind it that’s pretty important,” I said, bending down to examine the ward, which had been drawn around the door handle.

“Makes sense to me. What are you going to do about it?”

“I wish I knew how to unmake them like that girl we met last month.”

“The charmer? Yeah. Handy skill, that.”

I eyed the door and considered my options. I just didn’t have any left. “Gotta be brute force.”

“Oh, man,” Jim said as I gripped the doorknob. “This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

And it wasn’t. By the time I managed to wrestle the door open and shove us both through the ward guarding it, Jim had lost two booties, and my scarf had mysteriously disappeared. We looked around the small room that faced us, but there was nothing there but another dim light hanging over head, a broken wooden table lurking drunkenly in the corner, and yet another metal door.

“Crap,” I swore to myself as I faced the rather substantial padlock that hung heavily from the door. “OK. Nothing for it. Stand back, Jim.”

The demon retreated to the doorway we’d just come through as I took off my gloves, rubbing my hands while I focused on pulling power from the room. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t nearly as powerful as Drake’s fire—

Or mine.

—but it was enough to concentrate into a small ball of energy, which when hurtled into the lock, shattered it completely.

“Nice going. Let’s hope you didn’t just release a herd of maniacs who are going to leap out and chop you up into little bitty Guardian pieces,” Jim said cheerfully as I carefully opened the door and peered inside.

The smells hit me first, unwholesome odors that made me want to gag. But riding the stench was a scent that was totally different, one that made tears prick in my eyes as I flung the door open, throwing myself into the dark maw.

“Aisling!” Jim called as I lurched toward an ebony shape in the darkness.

“Drake!” I said at the same time, flinging myself on the shadow.

“Aisling?”

The black shape on the floor grunted as I flung myself on it, kissing every bit of him I could reach.

“What are you doing—kincsem, stop. That was my eyeball. What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”

Beneath me, Drake struggled to sit up.

“It was your clever dream, you brilliant man. Although I have to say, you could have just walked up and told me where you were rather than doing that symbolism thing. Oh, dear god, are you all right?” Faint little fingers of light from the room behind us stretched across a floor that appeared to be made of dirt and rock, covered in matted straw. “You feel all right? Does anything hurt on you? Are Pál and István here, too?”

“Yes, they’re here,” Drake answered, and beyond him, two pale faces hove into view. “We’re not hurt. What dream are you talking about? What symbolism?”

“The dream you sent me.” I swallowed back a painful lump of tears, unable to keep from patting Drake to reassure myself that he was all right. “Thank god we guessed right. Gabriel brought us here, but he’s disappeared.”

“Gabriel?” Drake’s eyes widened for a moment, the look of shock quickly fading to something that looked horribly like fear. “Kincsem, get up. We must get out of here, right now.”

“Oh, god. Don’t tell me—he’s behind this, isn’t he?” I said, scrambling to my feet, my heart dropping to my stomach.

“No. István, take Aisling. Pál, help me.”

“Help you with what? Are you hurt? And if Gabriel isn’t the one behind you being kidnapped, who is?”

“The time for questions is later,” István told me, limping toward me, his face dirty and bruised. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me after him toward the door.

I couldn’t argue with that reasoning, but I am nothing if not consistent—I argued. “Drake, what the hell is going on—and who’s that?”

An unfamiliar man emerged from the shadows, held up on either side by Drake and Pál, dirty, dark-haired and dark-eyed from what I could tell, but in far worse shape, his cheekbones pronounced, a gaunt, almost emaciated appearance to his face.

“His name is Konstantin,” Drake answered, using one hand to shove me toward the door at which István waited. “We do not have time for this. We must get out before Gabriel finds us.”

“I just hope you explain why you’re so afraid of Gabriel if he’s not the one who kidnapped you,” I told him as I followed István out the door. All three of them—four if you counted the fourth dragon named Konstantin—looked worse for wear, but I could see that other than some bruises and a layer of filth that would wash off, they were apparently un harmed. I wondered what Gabriel’s plan was in holding them, swearing at myself for being so foolish as to fall for his lies a second time.

Drake looked curiously at the door I’d blasted open, narrowing his eyes when faced with the outer door, the one with the powerful wards.

“This is going to hurt a bit,” I said, gathering my strength.

His lips thinned at the sight of the half-opened door. “There is no other way. Do what you must.”

It took me five minutes to get everyone through the ward. I wanted to leave the man named Konstantin for the last, but Drake insisted he go second, after István.