There was a sneeze, and a pile of feather boas in the far corner poofed up in the blast of nasal air.
Rake Danescu released me and crossed the room faster than I could see, reached behind a pile of discarded costumes, and plucked out one very wanted leprechaun prince by the scruff of his scrawny neck.
“Ah, here is my little trespasser.” The goblin’s smile was more like a hungry hyena than anything else. And like a scared rabbit, the leprechaun couldn’t stop himself from looking at the predator that’d plucked him from his burrow of feathers. Prince Finnegan was no longer a naked human woman. He was something worse—a naked leprechaun. Ick didn’t even begin to cover it; and believe me, I wanted it covered.
Rake Danescu’s black eyes locked on Finn’s with all the warmth of a shark about to feed. What was about as bad as it could get for the prince was good for me. If Danescu wanted to keep his leprechaun prisoner, and right now, for my sake, I hoped he did, he couldn’t break eye contact, or Finn would vanish faster than tips in a stripper’s G-string.
And without those black eyes holding me hostage, I felt some semblance of sanity returning.
Now it was Prince Finnegan’s turn to panic. However, being a leprechaun with the gift of gab, he was trying to talk his way out of the mess he’d sneezed his way into.
His words came in a gush. “In exchange for my freedom, I will gladly grant you three wishes.”
Danescu smiled slowly. “Of course, you will. You will give me everything I want—including the name of who sent you here. I believe the clichéd wish is for you to give me riches, power, and my heart’s desire. I already possess all three, leaving you with nothing left with which to bargain. Why are you here, leprechaun?”
Finn grinned like a used car salesman who liked a challenge and had just met his match.
“If you consider carefully and wish well,” the leprechaun told the goblin, “you could accomplish what I know you want in only two wishes.” Finn waggled his bushy, red eyebrows. “Leaving you free to use your first wish to cleanse the human and elven stain from your place of business. For no extra charge, I can include the wolf man presently lurking in your alley, after which there will be no one to prove SPI’s agents were even here. Then we will be free to conduct our business in a civilized manner.”
The goblin’s expression darkened. “Be warned that my favor is not so cheaply bought—nor am I easily tempted. In fact, you may find both are priced more dearly than you’re prepared to pay. You toy with those best left unmolested.”
Finn jerked his head in my direction. “Yet you molest them freely.”
“I can do so because I have not your shortcomings.”
“The dragon uses humans as her agents. They are servants at best. They will do as they are told to avoid offending or angering our queen or your own most noble king. The balance of power is delicate now. They will not risk exposing our world to their own. We are the nobles of our peoples. We don’t need the permission of the hired help to do as we wish.”
“And you fail to recognize the value of ‘hired help.’ I never eliminate in haste that which I may need in the future.”
“Then use your first wish to have me put SPI’s agents to sleep for as long as would be convenient.”
“That could be convenient—and most entertaining.”
Rake Danescu never took his eyes off of Finn, but he didn’t need to when he could run his fingers under my blouse from clear across the room.
There was a muffled explosion, and Ian stood framed in all that was left of the locked door.
“Attacking my employees in my place of business?” Danescu asked Ian, his black eyes never leaving Finn’s. “And destroying my property? Vivienne’s control over her favorite guard dog isn’t as good as she believes. I have done nothing here. Merely giving a warm welcome to SPI’s latest seer to our fair city, and giving her advice she would do well to heed.”
“And kidnapping a leprechaun prince?”
“Escorting a Seelie court hooligan who is trespassing in a nonpublic area of my club. My intent is to send him on to where he deserves to be.” The goblin smiled as if at a private joke. “It is my own variation of a catch-and-release program.”
“You’ve caught him; release him. Now.”
“In good time.” His black eyes glittered from the shadows. “And that time will be mine; not yours.”
He shot a glance at the pile of costumes Finn had been hiding in. In the next instant, that pile was flying toward me and Ian.
Then the lights went out, and a door opened and slammed.
Shouts and screams came from the guest section of the club, and what sounded like a muffled explosion came from the other side of a door with one of those emergency exit signs over it. It appeared to be the only door out of this place. Ian ran across the room and threw his hip against the door bar, his gun in his hand, held low and ready. He checked the alley, his eyes alert to any movement.
The air smelled like rotten eggs, and it was all I could do not to gag.
“Sulfur,” Ian said.
“What the—”
“Leftovers from black magic. Looks like Danescu had an escape portal ready and waiting.”
We ran out the back door and into the alley to the sound of screeching tires, burning rubber, and gunshots.
Elana stood at the mouth of the alley, slamming a fresh magazine into her gun, and cussing a blue streak. The leprechauns formerly known as Khaki Guy and Jeans Guy were trussed up in magic manacles and propped up against the alley wall like a pair of Thanksgiving turkeys.
The Suburban was gone.
Ian sprinted to the end of the alley. I caught up to him a couple of seconds later.
“The last two leps got past me,” she growled. “Sorry, Ian.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll get them. They took the Suburban?”
Elana gave a sharp nod and lowered her gun, but she didn’t put it away. The look on her face said she really wanted to use it some more. Those leprechaun SUV-jackers better hope Elana didn’t catch them first.
“Where’s Yasha?” I asked.
Elana jerked her head in a vaguely skyward direction. “Up there. We’ve had company.”
Something heavy slammed into the brick wall two stories above our heads. Then came the shower of broken brick chunks.
Ian jerked me out of the way, and we both looked up.
I had no idea what they were, but the closest thing my panicked mind could come up with was one of those flying monkey things from The Wizard of Oz on steroids. They’d scared the crap out of me on TV when I was a kid; and their all-too-real distant cousin had me plenty terrified right here and now.
“Danescu’s club bouncers,” Ian explained. “For particularly stubborn guests.”
The winged monkey fell out of the sky and landed face-first and spread-eagle in the alley. Nothing landed that hard without being hurled.
Yasha leapt from the roof, shaking the now-cracked pavement under our feet when he landed. He snatched up the monkey by one ankle and slammed it repeatedly against the ground. Then he swung it a couple of times over his head and let it go. I didn’t know how far that monkey flew after Yasha launched it, but the squealing went on for way longer than you’d have thought.
Yasha the werewolf looked at the spot where the Suburban had been, and let out a blood-curdling howl. Then again, those leprechauns would be better off if Elana caught up to them first. I realized that the Suburban probably wasn’t the only thing of Yasha’s they’d stolen.
I think they’d taken his clothes.
“RAKE Danescu took Finn,” I told them.
“How?” Elana asked.
Ian smiled; it was the first real one I’d seen from him. “Portal. But when I tackled the little bastard on that stage, I tagged him in the left ass cheek with a tracking chip.”
That right there went above and beyond the call of duty. Ian Byrne deserved a medal.
“Best hope that chip of yours is multi-dimensional,” Elana said.