Wickedly Dangerous (16 page)

“I would love to have tea some other time, Your Majesty, but I'm afraid I have urgent tidings that cannot wait. I beg an audience, if you please.” Baba kept her eyes slightly lowered, trying to see the queen's face without staring rudely.

“Pish tosh, my dear,” the queen said dismissively. “Any news you have to share can be told in front of the rest of this company. There is nothing you can say that my beloved consort and the most trusted members of our court cannot be witness to.” She waved one languid hand at Baba. “So, what is this oh-so-important information that cannot wait until I finish my tea?”

Crap.
Well, she'd just have to spill the beans and hope for the best. Presumably the members of the queen's inner circle had gotten good at ducking over the centuries.

“Highness, I have had a number of run-ins with a mysterious woman wearing a glamour and wielding powers unlike those available to most Humans. And then today, the White Rider, the Red Rider, and the Black Rider were all attacked by creatures they swear could only have come from the Otherworld. We assume they were acting under the command of this woman, who calls herself Maya.”

There were gasps from the assembled company, although the queen's expression didn't change. The Riders were considered to be utterly dependable and beyond reproach in their service to the Babas, and by extension, the kingdom as well, since Babas guarded both worlds.

“That seems highly unlikely,” the queen said, a slight chill in her voice. “How could she have such creatures in the Human lands?”

Baba braced herself and looked directly at the queen. “We believe that she has somehow discovered a new, unauthorized door somewhere in the area. It is the only explanation for the presence of so many magical creatures, many of whom she is using to torment the local citizens, as well as directing them in attacks against the Riders and against my own person.”

There were more exclamations from the courtiers around the table, but Baba kept her attention on the only person whose reaction truly mattered.

The queen's regal face grew even sterner, if that was possible. A few of the surrounding people started to edge away from the space.

“That would be an extremely undesirable situation, were it to prove to be true,” she said. Frost crept out from underneath her pointed silver shoes and turned the grass below her feet to dust. The closest rosebush faded from a healthy pink to a lackluster gray, its petals dropping one by one to litter the ground. “Are you certain these beings are not crossing through another gateway? Yours, perhaps?” The queen narrowed her eyes at Baba, who tried not to flinch.

“They could not be coming through my trailer . . . er, hut, that is, Your Majesty,” Baba said in as firm a tone as she dared use. “Either Chudo-Yudo or I have been there at all times. And the nearest other known doorways are many leagues from the area where the incidents occurred, in the Human places known as Ontario and New York City. It is unlikely in the extreme that the guardians of those doors would have allowed so many to pass from this world into that one without permission, and even if they had done so, how would the creatures have gotten so far without someone noticing?”

The queen pursed her perfectly shaped lips, tapping them lightly with a dainty filigreed fan. “If you are right, dearest Baba, I shall be
quite displeased
. There is a reason why all the passageways in and out of our world are guarded and those who are allowed to pass through them are few. The balance between the Otherworld and the Human lands is precarious enough as it is; such wanton use of an illicit doorway could destroy that balance irrevocably. As a Baba, it is part of your job to make sure that doesn't happen.”

Sudden storm clouds appeared overhead, and whitecaps danced on the surface of the pond, which a moment before had been perfectly calm. The king reached out and patted the queen's hand.

“Now darling, I'm sure things aren't as dire as all that,” he said in a soothing voice, casting a wary look at the sky. “We'll just send Baba back to find what is no doubt just a tiny little hole in the fabric between the worlds, and then we'll fix it. No harm done.” He gave his consort his most charming smile. “Why don't you let me pour you some more tea? Yours seems to have gotten a little cold.”

Baba cleared her throat, wishing she were anywhere else but there, with any other words about to come out of her mouth. Despite her height and the three-inch heels she wore, she felt very small. And sincerely hoped she wasn't about to get smaller. Like swan- or frog-sized.

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I'm afraid it is worse than that.” She braced herself, and spit out the rest. “There are a number of children who have gone missing from the local area over the last few months, and I now believe that this woman has been stealing the children and bringing them here.”

At this, the queen sprang to her feet, her porcelain teacup shattering as it hit the ground. “What?” she shrieked, almost unmusically. “Preposterous! Unacceptable!”

One of the crescent moons exploded, sending a rain of sparks out of the dusky sky to sizzle where they landed. Six lovely naked women suddenly appeared, floundering in the middle of the pond, shedding white feathers as they made their sputtering way to the edge of the water and staggered out to lie panting on the ground. The silver teapot the king had been about to pour from vanished, to be replaced by a multihued parrot that squawked indignantly and flew off to sit in a locust tree.

“Crap,” muttered the king.

Baba could feel all the blood drain out of her face. “I am so very sorry to be the bearer of such unpleasant news, Your Majesty. But I thought it was important that you be told as soon as possible.”

The queen took a deep breath, perceptibly getting a grip on her temper, two bright spots of color visible on her normally pale cheeks. Two slightly sheepish-looking ladies crawled out from where they'd been hiding underneath the table, their elegant gowns a little worse for the experience.

“Stealing children is what got the Otherworld into so much trouble in the old days,” the queen said, a grim expression turning her beautiful visage merely average stunning. “Nobody cared if a goblin stopped up a chimney or a brownie borrowed some milk, but steal their children, and Humans will stop at nothing to hunt us all down.” She sank back into her chair. “This is very, very bad news indeed.”

The king handed her his teacup and cast a dubious glance at Baba. “Surely you are mistaken. No one would be so foolish. What would she have to gain?”

“On my way here, I ran into a creature who was attempting to keep me from reaching the court. When I confronted him, he told me he was following orders from a Rusalka who had achieved great power and influence somehow.” Baba gave the king a rueful smile. “I can't think of any other way a lowly Rusalka could achieve such a thing, frankly, so I'm guessing that this Rusalka and the woman I have been dealing with are one and the same, although as yet I have no proof to back up my assumption.”

The queen tapped her fan on the edge of the table sharply. “Are you suggesting, my dear Baba Yaga, that there are those
in my own court
who are cooperating with this woman in return for the gift of a Human child?” Her scowl made Baba wish she'd stayed at home, which was no doubt the queen's intent.

Baba stood her ground, although her knees trembled slightly. “I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. I gave this some thought on my way here, after the creature told me this Rusalka was gathering power from others. It stands to reason that whoever this woman is, she started out with more cunning than ability. If there are those from the Otherworld who are giving over some of their power to Maya to use in the mundane world, they must be very powerful themselves.” She raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the assembled company, which had somehow grown to include most of the court members who had been dallying on the lawn. Otherworld denizens had an unerring instinct for any kind of drama that might entertain them. “Obviously, those with the most magic to spare are within your own inner circle, Highness.”

She braced herself for another moon to plummet from the sky, but the queen simply shook her exquisite head in denial. “I refuse to believe such slander. You must be mistaken. Perhaps this woman is a talented witch who has somehow stumbled on the secrets of the gateways between our worlds.” The queen narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps it is even a Baba gone wrong. Have you talked to any of your sisters lately?”

Baba gritted her teeth but answered politely. “I have, Your Majesty. The other two American Babas have their hands full with their own issues, far away from the area in which I am staying. And I fail to see how a witch, no matter how mighty, could command scores of Otherworld creatures.”

The queen flipped open her fan, as if to waft away the unwelcome argument, and rose with inhuman grace to face those who had gathered to listen avidly to this fascinating conversation.

“We will settle this right now,” she said, raising her voice without effort to be heard by all. She addressed her courtiers using her most regal attitude. Around the table, knights snapped to attention instinctively, and the ladies sat up straighter. Baba thought she heard the king let out the tiniest of sighs.

“It has been suggested that some among you might knowingly be assisting a woman, possibly a Rusalka, who is stealing Human children and bringing them to our lands through an illicit and unauthorized doorway,” the queen said, looking out over her subjects with glittering amethyst eyes. Her gaze seemed to focus on each one in turn, like a laser scalpel, dissecting their thoughts and uncovering any hidden secrets.

“Should such a thing be true, it would be a violation of our strictest laws, and a direct threat to the well-being of our land,” she went on. “If, in fact, any here are involved in such a travesty, speak up now, or be found out later and punished most severely for your crimes against me and this court. I, your queen, so command you.”

There was utter and complete silence, although people could be seen subtly checking out those standing nearby, waiting, perhaps, for someone to confess. No one did. In fact, most of the company wore their most haughty, forbidding expressions, as if to imply that even the suggestion was ridiculous. But Baba thought she caught a few guilty looks; a twitch here, a tightened lip there, and made a mental note of them for future reference. Of course, Otherworld faces were different enough from human ones; it was possible she was simply imagining it. But she didn't think so.

“There, you see?” said the queen, as if that settled things. Which in theory, it should have, since it was a very bad idea to lie to the queen. Very Bad.

“No one here is involved.” She stared at Baba, twirling her fan between long, slim fingers adorned with jewels that twinkled like the stars this world lacked. “That does not, of course, negate the possibility that this person is bringing children here and hiding them, somehow. Nor does it solve the problem of this door, if in fact it does exist.”

The king stroked his neatly pointed beard, as dark as the queen's hair was pale. “There have been a number of odd occurrences lately,” he pointed out. “Parts of the land shifting in and out of existence unexpectedly, time fluctuating even more erratically than usual.” Concern wrote unaccustomed lines on his handsome face. “Overuse of a newly created door could cause such imbalances, could it not, my dear?”

The queen's face was as calm as ever, but the delicate ivory fan snapped into pieces between her palms. “Indeed it could, my love, indeed it could. And if true, the chaos will only become worse as the miscreant continues to use it.” She dropped the remains of the fan on the ground, dusting her hands as if to rid herself of the problem at the same time.

“Baba Yaga,” she said decisively.

Baba's stomach felt like it was attempting to join the broken beige shards lying at her feet. “Majesty?”

The queen drew herself up to her full height and spoke in her most imperial and dulcet tone, like exotic flowers shot out of a cannon at full force. “Baba Yaga, I hereby command you to find this woman Maya and discover, by whatever means necessary, the location of the door she is using, so We might close it before it further harms this world. You will also discover the location of any children she has illegally transported to the Otherworld, should this in fact be the case.” Her words rang out for all to hear and those surrounding the table nodded in approval and began to wander off, satisfied that the show was over.

In a quieter but no less intimidating voice, she added flatly, “I am depending on you, Baba. Bring me this woman. Find the door. Rescue these children. Or else.” The queen looked meaningfully in the direction of the six bewildered women currently shivering under borrowed cloaks. “And don't take too long about it. You do
not
want to try my patience.”

LIAM HAD INTENDED
to drive over and visit Baba as soon as he'd finished his dinner at Bertie's. The chatter there had been unusually malicious and unpleasant, swirling around the restaurant in snippets of suspicion and superstition, most of it aimed in Baba's direction. He'd barely managed to choke down his fried chicken and mashed potatoes in between all the conversations he'd had with people who had
casually
stopped by his table on the way in or out to complain about “what that woman was up to.”

He'd done his best to calm everyone down, but his stomach was in knots by the time he left, Bertie's usually tender chicken sitting like a rock right under his heart. The threats and accusations were probably no more than hot air—a way for folks to let out their frustrations—but he didn't like the hysterical quality of some of the allegations, or the way the word “witch” was being bandied about, as if they'd all suddenly slid a couple of centuries back in time.

Liam didn't suppose that Baba would thank him for disturbing her peace by coming by to warn her, and he suspected she was perfectly capable of protecting herself if necessary. If nothing else, the sight of Chudo-Yudo's sharp white teeth and enormous bulk were enough to scare away any sensible person. But none of those things was going to stop him from checking to make sure she was okay. Neither was the mocking little voice in the back of his head quietly suggesting that maybe this was just an excuse to catch a glimpse of the lady's flashing amber eyes and that amazing cloud of dark hair that floated around her shoulders like a tangible aura of magic and mystery.

But circumstances conspired against his good intentions, first with repeated calls from people reporting strange sightings and possible break-ins (none of which turned out to be anything) and then dealing with the violent storm that sprang up out of nowhere, causing intermittent power outages and blocking roads with snarls of fallen limbs. He'd even had to rescue the proverbial kitten up a tree, shinnying halfway up a crooked old oak to fetch down a bedraggled ball of fur with tiny sharp claws and a piercing yowl that far outpaced its diminutive size.

By the time the winds had died down and the rain eased to a gentle drizzle, it was much later than a normal social call would allow. He didn't let that stop him either, although he did bring a little something along to sweeten the rudeness of his late arrival.

He'd been a little concerned that Baba would have already gone to bed, but apparently he'd worried for nothing, since the Airstream was still brightly lit, the glow from its windows sending shafts of light out to fall on damp grass, scruffy shrubbery, her battered blue BMW, and—most unwelcome sight of all—the three additional motorcycles parked out front.

Liam recognized the white Yamaha, red Ducati, and black Harley from the day he'd seen them at the bar. Apparently Baba's friends were still in town. Nobody had mentioned odd-looking strangers with even more Russian accents after that night, so he'd kind of hoped they'd gone away. Not that he was jealous, or anything. They just seemed like disreputable sorts, that's all.

Grabbing a flat box and a plastic-coated to-go bag off the passenger seat, Liam made his way to the front door and knocked briskly. There was a moment of silence as the voices he could hear inside stopped talking abruptly, then the door swung open and a man with long blond hair peered out into the night at him.

“Ah, Sheriff McClellan. What a pleasant surprise.” His acerbic tone suggested that Liam's appearance was anything but, although his handsome face was smiling.

“Mikhail Day, wasn't it?” Liam said, transferring the bag to underneath his left arm so he could shake hands with his right. “We met at The Roadhouse the evening you got into town. Nice to see you again.” He took a step forward as they shook, forcing the other man to take a step back. Once inside, he let go and shut the door behind him, wiping a spatter of rain off the rim of his hat.

“I've come to see Dr. Yager,” he explained, glancing around the room to look for her. Gregori sat at the banquette table, sipping tea, and the huge black-leather clad form of Alexei lounged on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him and taking up most of the space. Of Baba, there was no sign. “I need to talk to her. Is she in the back bedroom?”

He started to walk in that direction, and Mikhail stepped into his path. “I'm sorry you came out here for nothing, Sheriff,” he said with smooth grace, “But Baba . . . er . . . Barbara isn't here now. She stepped out for a bit of fresh air. No telling when she'll be back, I'm afraid.” He put one muscular arm around Liam's shoulder and started to usher him back toward the door.

Liam ducked around him and placed both his packages on the countertop. “Really? She went for a walk at ten o'clock at night. After a big storm? That seems a little strange.” An eyebrow emphasized his skepticism.

Gregori lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You know our Barbara,” he said, his lilting accent more noticeable than Mikhail's, who sounded as if he had practiced hard to remove it. “She is rarely predictable.”

“I doubt I know her at all,” Liam muttered. “But yes, she is that.” He faked a bright smile as he looked around at the three men. “Not to worry—I brought pie from Bertie's and a little something for Chudo-Yudo. Is he here, or out walking too?”

Alexei perked up. “What kind of pie?” he asked, sitting up straight. Mikhail scowled at him, but the big man just grinned. “What? I can't help it, I love pie.”

“Chocolate pecan pie,” Liam said, opening the box and pulling it out so they could see the glistening mound of whipped cream on top. “If it's not the best thing you ever tasted, I'll eat my sheriff's hat.” Which he laid on the counter next to the pie, in case they hadn't figured out yet that he wasn't planning to leave anytime soon.

A large head nudged the top of his thigh, and he looked down to see Chudo-Yudo, mouth gaping in what Liam hoped was benign curiosity.

“There you are,” he said, pulling his secret weapon out of the bag he'd carried it in. “I told Bertie about you, so she gave me this.”

“This” was a huge bone from that night's roast, with large meaty shreds still clinging to it. Chudo-Yudo's eyes widened and he stood up on his hind legs, almost knocking Liam down as he bestowed a wet doggy tongue wipe on the sheriff's face before grabbing the bone and wandering off to sit in a corner, gnawing on it. A rumble almost like a purr emanated from his broad white chest.

Mikhail looked from the dog to Alexei, who was hovering over the pie, sniffing hopefully. One suspiciously finger-shaped section of whipped cream was missing, and the big man was making a noise not unlike that coming from Chudo-Yudo.

The blond man's mouth curved into a reluctant grin. “You seem to have solved the riddle that gets you past the door keepers,” he said, shaking his head. “I suppose you might as well stay, although Baba could be gone a long time.”

“I'm in no hurry,” Liam said cheerfully. He moved over toward the coffeemaker sitting on the counter. “Why don't I make us some coffee to go with our pie? I'm sure Barbara wouldn't mind.”

He reached one hand out toward the container marked Coffee that sat on the counter, but a slim beige hand already rested on it. Liam blinked. He hadn't even seen the other man move, but somehow Gregori had gotten there before him.

“Why don't you allow me to make the coffee,” Gregori said easily, edging into Liam's personal space so he was forced to move out of the way. “This coffeemaker is a little . . . temperamental . . . best to let me do it.”

“Uh, okay,” Liam said. “Point me to the cupboard where she keeps the plates, and I'll slice us each a piece of pie.”

He turned around, and Alexei already had a huge chunk lying in the middle of one equally large hand and was eating it with his fingers.

“I'm good, thanks,” the big man said around a mouthful of chocolate and nuts. Whipped cream fringed the edges of his mustache like ice on a pond.

Mikhail handed over plates and forks for the rest of them with a dramatic eye roll. “Just ignore our ill-mannered friend,” he said. “He was raised by wolves.”

Chudo-Yudo raised his head and barked.

“Good point,” Mikhail responded. “I didn't mean to insult the wolves. They actually have much better etiquette than Alexei.”

Liam looked from the man to the dog and back again. “You know, Barbara does that too. Talks like she is actually carrying on a conversation with the animal.”

“Does she?” Mikhail drawled, eyes a deep, guileless blue. “Fancy that.”

Liam took his pie and slid into the banquette table, with Mikhail across from him. Gregori brought over a steaming cup of coffee and placed it in front of the sheriff, then stood next to Alexei at the counter to eat his own piece with considerably more dignity.

Liam lifted his mug, a heavy pottery creation decorated in shades of deep purple and carved with symbols he didn't recognize, and took a deep sniff. “Hey, does anyone else smell roses?” he asked.

The other men just looked blank and shook their heads, although Liam could swear that one of them choked back a laugh. He shrugged, figuring it didn't matter, and let the deep sweet bliss of Bertie's pie dissolve on his tongue like a forkful of love with whipped cream on top. His eyes closed in ecstasy for a moment, but then snapped back open at a distinctive creaking sound. Liam gazed in disbelief as the wardrobe at the end of the kitchen swung open and Baba stepped through the door.

“Son of bitch!” she said, as she bumped her head on the doorframe on her way out. “I always forget to duck. Damn, that smarts.” Behind her, the clothing that usually hung there seemed to have been replaced by a swirling gray mist filled with iridescent sparkles. Before she slammed the door shut, Liam could have sworn he saw a tiny green and pink hummingbird fly by, vanishing even further into impossible depths.

Alexei and Gregori moved toward each other as if to try and block Liam's view of the closet, probably not realizing it was already too late. So he couldn't see Baba when she asked testily, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Why are you standing there like a couple of mismatched statues in Aphrodite's garden?”

They shifted aside to show Liam sitting at the table, and he was treated to an intriguing slideshow of shock, anger, consternation, and something a little like fear as various expressions came and went on Baba's normally unreadable face. She finally seemed to settle on resignation, and took a hesitant step in his direction.

“Uh, hi,” she said, lifting a hand in greeting.

“Hi yourself,” Liam said, feeling remarkably calm, under the circumstances. “Did you just walk out of that closet?” He looked her over, taking in her unusual attire, jewels, sword, and all. She looked exotic, stunningly beautiful, and in some intangible way, more herself than he'd ever seen her.

“Nice outfit. Special occasion?” He was fairly certain she hadn't just come from a costume ball. Unless it was one that involved some kind of giant pumpkin and a fairy godmother.

“There's pie,” Alexei mumbled, mouth full, and retreated to sit on the couch, out of the line of fire. “It's really good pie.”

Chudo-Yudo made a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter and covered his eyes with one mammoth paw.

Gregori just sighed and said, “You might as well tell him, Baba. And while you're at it, you can tell all of us what the queen said when you broke the news that Maya had discovered a door into the Otherworld.”

He cut a piece of chocolate pecan rapture, put it on a plate, and nudged her into the seat opposite Liam. “Here. You look like you could use this.” He handed her a full cup to go with it.

“Did he say ‘door to the Otherworld'?” Liam asked incredulously. His coffee mug suddenly weighed about twenty pounds, and he put it down before he dropped it. “What the hell is the Otherworld? And why are you wearing a sword?” He wondered if it would help if he pinched himself, and tried it surreptitiously under the table.
Ow.
Nope. The room was still filled with crazy Russian men and one impossibly gorgeous, frustrating, mysterious woman. Who was wearing a sword.

“I think I'm going to need more coffee,” he said. “A
lot
more coffee.”

*   *   *

BABA WANTED TO
beat her head against the table. Barring that, she'd be willing to settle for someone else's head. There were four names on her short list already. It was bad enough to come back from the court with the queen's threat still ringing in her ears, but to discover that the Riders and Chudo-Yudo had allowed the already curious sheriff in, just in time to watch her walk through a doorway from nothing . . . well, that made her night perfect.

“Try the pie, Baba,” Mikhail suggested with a gentle smile and no visible sympathy at all. “It's practically magical.”

She dug her fork in, more for an excuse to avoid looking at Liam than because she had any appetite for dessert, but once the creamy-smooth bittersweet chocolate melted on her tongue, she had to admit, it was pretty amazing pie. “Bertie's?” she asked, finally daring to meet the sheriff's gaze.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off her. “Yep. Now, about that explanation . . .” He tilted his chin up, clearly not going anywhere until she answered him.

“Fine,” she said, resigning herself to the inevitable. “But I'm warning you, you're not going to believe me.”

Broad shoulders shrugged, and she was distracted again by the sheer male presence of him. The tiny cleft in that stubborn chin, almost covered by the late hour's stubble; the strength in his arms; the powerful line of his shoulders as they moved under his slightly muddy uniform jacket. The back of one calloused hand was curled around her favorite coffee mug, revealing a line of thin new scratches that looked red and sore. She wanted, just for a moment, to reach out and heal them with her touch, wishing she could save him that small amount of pain, if nothing else. It seemed unlikely, at this point, that there was much else she could protect him from.