“Do you know what a lock pick looks like?” Rowan demanded to know, suddenly so tired that all inhibitions were long gone. So, evidently, was the filter between his brain and mouth. “Because I don’t, and I object to you sending me tersely worded texts asking me where the ring is when I am probably the least qualified person in the world to steal it. I’m a sociologist, Bee. I can explain to even the most isolated tribe who the white people are and why they are cutting down the forests, but I am not a thief.”
“You just admitted that you are an alchemist,” Constantine said, leaning his head in front of Bee’s. She whapped him on it and forced him to move. He resolved the situation by pulling her onto his lap, so they could both face the camera. “That ring is a magic item. You break magic down to its essential parts, and we want the ring unmade so Bael can’t use it. It’s just that simple.”
Rowan rubbed his face again. He eyed the bed with the lime green duvet dotted with what looked like ladybugs, and thought seriously about going to sleep for at least a week. “Nothing is ever simple where dragons are concerned. Speaking of which, you didn’t tell me there was a red dragon with the old lady.”
“I told you the red dragon demon guys were sure to be tracking her down,” Bee said pointedly. “Bael evidently went ballistic when the Papadopolous woman broke into his house in San Francisco and stole it, and I have no doubt that he’s got every demon and demon-dragon hybrid that he controls out looking for it. I’m not surprised if you saw some of them sniffing around her.”
“There were two of them, but that’s not what I’m talking about. The companion, the woman who has possession of the old lady—she is also a red dragon.”
Bee’s shoulders slumped as she gave Constantine a worried look. “Then it’s all over. Bael must have the ring back, and we’ll never find it now.”
Constantine swore. “The gods alone know what sort of security he’ll wrap around it…”
“No, that’s not what I said.” Rowan rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry if I’m not making a lot of sense, but as I said, it’s been over twenty-four hours with no sleep. The old woman’s caregiver or companion, or whatever you want to call her, is the red dragon—and not a demon type, just a plain old red dragon—and she doesn’t seem to want to have anything to do with the two dragons who are tracking them. At least, she damn near screamed down the plane when one of the dragons tried to put a bracelet on the old lady.”
“A what?”
“Bracelet.” Rowan held out his hand, gesturing toward his wrist, avoiding looking at the bed again. He didn’t think he’d be able to refuse its sirenlike call. “You know, the thing you put on your arm. It’s in my bag now, where it can do no harm.”
“What on earth are you babbling about?” Bee glared at him. “Why would someone want to put a bracelet on her?”
“I assume because they imbued a binding spell on it.” He rallied the strength to give a shrug. “I’m just reporting the facts, such as they are.”
“It doesn’t seem to me like you’re doing anything—” Bee complained, but before Rowan could try to gather enough ire to take umbrage at that accusation, Constantine said something to her about being too harsh on him even if he was the infamous Dragon Breaker.
“He’s my little brother,” Bee told her dragon. “I’m allowed to be blunt.”
“In this case, more understanding is in order. I wish for him to get started as well, but he is mortal and is clearly exhausted. He can’t perform adequately if he is likely to fall asleep at any moment.”
“How thoughtful of you to worry about me,” Rowan said with a slight tinge of sarcasm.
“Do not thank me, Dragon Breaker. I merely wish for you to be able to do your job properly. It was my kin you killed with your magic.”
“By the gods, I don’t make magic!”
“Knock it off, both of you.” Bee took a deep breath, then made a face at Rowan. “Constantine is right. I’m being overly harsh, for which I apologize, but I just don’t think you understand how important this is to us. All of us, not just the dragons, but everyone.”
“I understand,” he said, lifting a hand, and with resignation, he looked again at his watch. “And for that reason, I’ll do everything I can to get into the old woman’s room and go through her belongings. But right now it’s too early, not to mention the fact that I can barely function. I’ll get a little sleep, wait until the small hours of the night, and then sneak into her room and try to find the ring, all right?”
“All right,” Bee said reluctantly, then softened the words by giving him a warm smile. “Don’t get hurt, okay? I mean, we want that ring—we have to have that ring so you can break it down—but you won’t do anyone good if you’re dead.”
“Thanks for caring,” he said wryly.
She made a face at him. “I almost forgot to tell you that May and Gabriel should be joining you soon. They were headed to Cairo, but said they’d stop by Munich when I told them that the thief was spending the night there. I’ll tell them where your hotel is, so keep your eyes peeled for a silver dragon and his mate.”