You’ve been quiet, I thought toward Zav as I entered the hallway. I still sensed him on the rooftop. Do you want to visit a dance studio and check for werewolves?
I must leave you. Another dragon has come to Earth.
I groaned. I knew it had been too peaceful on the dragon front. Which one? Another old enemy?
He has not declared his intentions to me yet. He is being coy.
Coy? That didn’t sound like Shaygor, the irate father of the dragon I’d killed. When you say he’s on Earth, is there any chance he’s visiting a mountain range in China instead of lurking anywhere close?
He is on the spire in your city.
The spire? The Space Needle?
Yes.
I groaned again as I imagined a dragon perched atop the structure, his tail dangling down in front of the windows of the revolving restaurant. Hopefully, he was using his magic to hide himself.
I will go confront him, Zav said.
Don’t get hurt. And don’t knock down that spire. It’s a city landmark.
Fear not. I am not a heathen.
Why didn’t that reassure me?
22
Someone called while I was driving up to meet my mother, but traffic was a snarl, and I didn’t recognize the number, so I let it drop to voice mail. Only when I pulled into the parking lot of the dance studio, a hexagonal building from the seventies that backed up to tree-filled wetlands, did I check the message.
“Val?” It was Dimitri’s voice, a hoarse whisper. “Val, if you’re there, now would be a really good time to answer.” He sounded breathless and there was a long pause. “I need some help.”
I thumped my fist on the steering wheel. Why hadn’t I picked up?
“I’m locked up. This crazy scientist is going to use me for—”
Something clanked in the background, followed by a thump.
“For what?” I demanded as if he were still on the line.
The voice mail ended.
Swearing, I dialed the number. It rang and rang. I hung up and tried again. Nobody answered, and there was no voice mail.
“Damn it.”
I ran an internet search on the number. Nothing. My only clue was that it was a Seattle area code. At least Dimitri hadn’t been dragged off to another state or country. I glared at the phone, willing Dimitri to find a way to call again.
I was in the middle of texting Nin to see if Dimitri had tried her when claws clattered against my window. I almost dropped my phone. For a second, I thought a werewolf was about to tear me out of the seat, but those were golden-furred paws. A lolling tongue hung out of a familiar canine face behind them.
Mom appeared, snapping her fingers and pointing for Rocket to get down. He sat obediently beside her. As soon as I sent my message to Nin, I grabbed my weapons and got out.
“That’s the face you wake up to every morning, huh?” I asked.
“It is. There haven’t been others for a long time.” She lifted a shoulder, her face wistful, but only for a moment before she said, “We’ve circled the building, and he picked up a suspicious trail in the back.”
Eventually, I would tell her I’d met Eireth, but with Dimitri on my mind, all I did was wave for her to show me the trail. Though the idea of finding a lead outside a dance studio seemed like wishful thinking when Dimitri had called from inside a house—or a laboratory?—and mentioned a scientist. I feared I was barking up the wrong tree with this Intelli-Ads thing. But it was all I had.
“I don’t have a way to know it was a vampire,” Mom said as we left the parking lot and followed a trail through lilac bushes and rhododendrons to the back of the building, “but it agitated Rocket.”
“Don’t squirrels and raccoons also agitate him?”
“Not like this.”
A text came back from Nin. I have not heard from Dimitri. Please tell me if there is anything I can do to help.
Rocket barked when he found the spot he liked and swirled around with his nose to the ground. There wasn’t an obvious trail other than the one that had brought us around the building, but he wanted to head into the wetlands. A hint of a pond was visible through ferns, deciduous trees, and evergreens. Duck quacks were audible over neighborhood traffic noise.
I almost waved for him to lead us off, but we were close to a back entrance to the building and something amiss caught my eye. Simple wooden steps led up to a door that had been left open. There hadn’t been any other cars in the parking lot, so I’d assumed the studio’s classes either hadn’t started yet or it was closed for the day because of the attack.
“Was that open before?” I pointed to it.
“Yes. Rocket wanted to go in, but I kept him out here.”
I touched the feline charm on my thong necklace and summoned Sindari. Rocket backed up and barked suspiciously as silver mist appeared and the great tiger formed in it. But he’d met Sindari before and recovered quickly from this unorthodox appearance. He woofed and wagged his tail.
Want to track something, Sindari? I asked silently.
Not that overly exuberant yellow canine, I trust?
No, I know where Rocket is. There was a vampire in the area last night. The dog might have the trail.
Rocket dropped his forelegs to the ground and wagged more vigorously at Sindari.
What is this canine doing? Sindari asked.
I looked at Mom.
“Play bow,” she said.
“And that’s what?”
“An invitation to play.”
“I don’t think Sindari plays. He’s regal.”
“Is that another word for stuffy?”
Sindari squinted at her. Please inform her that I gnaw the feet off those who insult me.
“He says yes.” I patted Sindari on the back.
He gave me a dark look.
Rocket, perhaps realizing his new companion wouldn’t frolic with him, returned to snuffling at the ground.
“Take Sindari and start checking out the trail, please. He’ll help if you find any trouble.” I doubted they would in this little pocket of nature. There was a busy street on the other side of the pond, and people’s yards hemmed it in on the ends. Still, I didn’t want to take chances. “I’m going to take a quick peek inside, and then I’ll catch up.”
I smell a vampire. Sindari was examining the ground—more regally than the exuberant Rocket.
Good. You can compare notes with the dog.
Sindari eyed the loudly snuffling golden retriever.
My people do not have a written form of our language. I suspect his don’t either.
Probably not. I waved for Sindari to go with Mom and Rocket, then climbed the stairs.
It was dim inside, the copious trees on the property keeping even the large windows out front from letting in a lot of light. This door led into a short back hallway with offices open to either side. I drew Chopper. Willard’s people, and probably the police, should have already investigated, so I doubted anyone would jump out at me, but better ready than not.
I found the spot where the janitor had been attacked. An upended coat rack lay on its side, and spatters of blood had dried on the polished wood floorboards. The dance studio itself was open and offered few clues, so I returned to the offices. They were filled with boxes and exercise equipment, desks here and there hunkering between the stacks. Computers rested on the desks, so it didn’t look like the open door represented a robbery. Maybe someone had forgotten to lock it, and the wind had blown it open.
I checked the computers, by now expecting evidence of Intelli-Ads. One was turned off, but the other came alive at the wave of the mouse. I checked the browser tabs and found one open to the Intelli-Ads website, a reporting dashboard that showed ad clicks and how much the dance firm had spent that week. Before I got a good look, the website reloaded, and a prompt came up for a password.
“Figures.” I poked in the drawers and peered around the computer. A yellow note was stuck under the keyboard. 6969titties. “Classy.”
When I typed it in, access returned. I poked through the website’s dashboard, but nothing looked fishy to my non-expert eye. The studio was spending a couple hundred a month on ads and had another open file with a list of leads they’d gained from their landing page.
As I walked out of the building, I called the person I probably should have contacted first about the company.
“Hey, Val,” Thad answered. “Everything okay?”
“Not exactly. Two friends have been kidnapped and I’m at a dead end. Do you know anything about an internet advertising company called Intelli-Ads?”
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice sounded in the background. That sounded like Shauna. Didn’t she ever leave him alone? Like to go to work and be a productive member of society?
I resisted the urge to tell Thad he should have an office somewhere instead of working from home but winced when he told her it was me. Thad wasn’t much for lying, but a fib now might have saved him a lecture later. Maybe I should have texted instead of calling.
“I haven’t heard of them,” he said, “but I can look them up and ask around. You think an internet company would be tied to kidnappings?”
“This one is tied to something. Why, are software developers too elite and sophisticated to be involved in such things?”
“Too puny to throw people over our shoulders. Have you seen my arms lately? I haven’t been working out much.”
“Ha ha. What do you know about Bernard Weber?”
“That he sold his cybernetics business for a ridiculously overpriced valuation and has since started several internet businesses that have bombed.” Thad sniffed. “I don’t think he writes any of his own code.”
“Is that what passes for an insult in your world?”
“You couldn’t tell?”
“I wasn’t sure. Any chance he’d have anything to do with Intelli-Ads? Either as a client or as the creator? I saw its logo in his office when I was at his house.”
“You were at his house?” Thad sounded affronted.
“I’m his bodyguard currently.”
“I… don’t know what to say to that.”