The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,32
should be. This was the best they could come up with.
They needed help.
“Right. Let’s get it over with.” Just in case, he dropped into a defensive stance, ready to unleash hell if needed. “Go ahead.”
Meira dropped her gaze to Vincent, who was standing between them. “Go find Carrick,” she told the goat.
Samael snorted. “Like he’d understand—”
Vincent trotted out the door.
Meira shot the black dragon shifter a shrug, then focused on what they were about to do. In an instant her fire flared over her body, the residual heat radiating out to him. The image staring back at them changed instantly to that of a different room. An empty room. In rapid succession moving quickly from space to space, Meira searched for her sisters throughout Ben Nevis. It didn’t take long until she found Skylar, but that particular sister was surrounded. She stood in the main training area located in the hangar of the mountain with all her and Ladon’s warriors, running through a series of physical exercises. Maul, lying in the back corner of the room, popped his head up.
“That’s a good sign,” Meira mumbled, more to herself than to him.
Yes, it was. “Skylar hasn’t been ostracized by the Blue Clan yet.”
Even through the wash of flame over her face, he still caught Meira’s sideways glance in the mirror, though she didn’t comment. They couldn’t talk to Skylar with a crowd of witnesses, so Meira continued to change the locations she searched.
“Kasia is not here,” Meira finally acknowledged, disappointment weighing the words. “She must’ve gone back to Store Skagastølstind with Brand. I’m searching for Angelika now.”
Again, the picture changed. Flashing, flashing, flashing. Like strobes. “There. Got her.”
Samael wasn’t sure what Meira had seen in the reflection at that speed. Perhaps she could sense her sister’s presence, because it took another few flashes before the image settled. It showed a smaller bedroom suite, the kind he recognized because he had grown up in a similar setup. Cramped, with fewer amenities and furnishings, meant for the common folk. He and his family had been happy in a suite like that. Right up to the end.
Only this place appeared as though bats have been living in it for decades—dirty and decrepit. He was fairly certain smells didn’t come through the mirrors, but Samael swore the musty scent of bat guano permeated regardless.
An unremembered, unused section of the mountain, perhaps? This was where they had put the wolves? How were those shifters, with their overdeveloped sense of smell, standing to stay there?
“Where’s your sister?”
Before she could answer, Maul suddenly appeared in the bedroom on the other side of the mirror. Samael was well aware of how the hellhound teleported. If he could see it, or knew what was on the other side, he could get there in short hops.
“Wait.” Samael frowned. “He was just in the training room.”
Maul’s head whipped in the direction of the mirror Meira was using. With happy dog sound, he disappeared only to appear just as suddenly in the room with them.
“Oh my gods, Maul,” Meira exclaimed, losing her hold on the mirror to whirl around and face the hellhound. “You can’t be here.”
The massive black dog that reeked of smoke and decay ignored her, instead bounding over, practically knocking Samael out of the way in his eagerness to get to Meira. With a chuckle, she wrapped her arms around the big dog.
“I thought this place was warded?” Samael asked.
Glowing red eyes turned his way, but he couldn’t tell if Maul was glaring at him or just looking in the direction of his voice.
“I guess not from hellhounds.” Her voice sounded from Maul’s opposite side.
Meira peeped at him from under the hound’s neck—the thing was as big as a Clydesdale. Bigger, probably. “Just for a moment,” she seemed to be pleading with him. “He worries about us.”
A hellhound protector. Gargoyles. Wolf shifters. Even rogue dragons. Serefina Amon, the girls’ mother, must have been something.
“Carrick is going to lose his shit,” Samael reminded her. He didn’t also point out that they didn’t have time for another of her strays.
“Right. Okay.” Meira’s hands dug deeper into the dog’s spiky fur for a moment before she stepped away.
“Now Maul,” she said, in a voice that he could tell she was trying to make firm, and adorably failing. “You can’t be here.”
The dog woofed, more of that smoke and rotting scent filling the air. Then Meira shook her head. Maul communicated in telepathic images. What was he showing her?