Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(37)

Caught.

I’d pushed my luck.

He got out and glared at me, looking back to his usual self. No limp, thankfully. And a clean set of clothes, which I guessed he’d gotten from his car. Once again, he looked like a million bucks.

“What are you doing in Darklane?” he demanded.

“I had to see a friend.”

“About what?”

“None of your business.”

“This isn’t a good part of town. And I don’t remember us agreeing that you could wander off.”

“I was coming right back.”

“Sure.” From the look on his face, he wouldn’t be letting me out of his sight anytime soon.

“Seriously, I’m not going to ditch you. I know you can find me.” I held up my wrist to show the tracking band he’d snapped on me.

“Exactly.” From the determined set of his brow and the expression in his dark eyes, he looked like he’d cross heaven and earth to find me.

“Come on, let’s go get a coffee and then find that demon.”

“Where exactly are we getting coffee?’

“Wherever you want.” I’d have liked to go to P & P, but I didn’t want to press my luck after sneaking out.

Anyway, we needed to get a move on with finding the Ubilaz demon. I was almost out of Connor’s potion, and once that was gone, I was going to turn into a demon real fast.



Though I should have been used to the Underpath by now, I wasn’t. Roarke had driven us there in no time, zipping through traffic in his futuristic super-car, and the journey to the The Hanged Man in Plymouth had taken even less time. But the moment we stepped out of the Underpath, I was woozy.

My head swam as I followed Roarke out of the bar and onto the street. Midday sun shined brightly on the cobblestones and Tudor buildings, while the scent of fried fish wafted from the fish and chip place next door. A moment after we reached the main road, Melly’s little green car zipped up to the curb.

“Hello!” she called through the open window.

“Hey, Melly.” My head had cleared enough that I felt human again, and I climbed into the cramped back seat of her car.

“Where to this time?” she asked.

“Somerset,” Roarke said. “Central part, right Del?”

I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, focusing on my dragon sense, careful to keep my signature repressed, then said, “Yeah. I’ll know more once we’re closer.”

“Somerset it is!” Melly stepped on the gas. Hard.

It took us a couple hours to reach Somerset, during which time the demon’s location changed slightly. Eventually, I pinpointed it to the city of Glastonbury.

“He’s definitely moving,” I said. “I can feel his location changing slightly.”

“Slowly?” Roarke asked.

“Yeah. I think he’s on foot. Or in traffic. We’re close, though.”

Melly had entered the bustling city streets of Glastonbury a few moments ago. We’d taken a few false turns, so by the time we entered the city, it was late. Whoever was still out on the sidewalks staggered as they headed from pub to pub. I directed Melly through the streets, following my sense of the demon.

Fortunately, Glastonbury was a supernatural city. Smaller than Plymouth, but still good-sized.

When we reached a stretch of parkland, I called out, “Stop! We’re here.”

Melly stomped on the brakes. After we screeched to a halt, she turned to look at me. “Here? It’s a park.”

I nodded and peered at the expanse of open grass and woodland, then climbed out of the car into the chill night air.

I turned to the car. “He’s in the park somewhere.”

“Good,” Roarke climbed out of the car and leaned down to peer at Melly. “Thanks, Melly. We’ll call you if we need a ride back.”

“Not a problem!” She waved, then zipped off.

“Let’s go.” I set off across the grass.

Roarke followed and we made our way quickly across the park and through a small patch of woods. When we popped out on the other side, a massive ruined cathedral appeared in the moonlight.

I grinned. “Bingo.”

“Makes sense considering they prefer ancient sites. But why this one? It’s not well protected like the cave.”

No, it wasn’t. The cathedral was a shell of a building and sat in the middle of the immaculately tended parkland. Its broken stone walls and massive arches soared up into the night sky, leaving a hollow shell in the middle.

“Weird,” I muttered as we moved forward. As we neared one of the doorless entrances, I caught sight of a small iron plaque.

Glastonbury Abbey, Est. 712

“That’s familiar.” I searched my brain for why, but came up empty. “You know anything about this place?”

Roarke shrugged. “No. I like the History Channel, but old churches aren’t really my thing.”

“Okay.” I peered inside at the expanse of grass that looked like black carpet stretched between the broken walls of the cathedral.

Roarke stepped over the threshold and I followed, my skin prickling as I stepped inside. The ruins ran on forever, tumbled down stone walls creating a hundred hiding places. The abbey had once been huge. It was deathly quiet, just the sound of distant revelers on the other side of the park. Kids partying, no doubt.