Fire Me Up (11 page)

"Hey!" I said, startled and angry at the same time. How dare
he!

"I understand," Nora said. That's all. She just said she
understood, and she walked away.

Fury like nothing I'd known since—well, since the last time
Drake annoyed me—rose with its brothers irritation and vengeance.

Mindful of the audience of other conference attendees who
were taking their midmorning break on the verandah, I didn't light into him
right then and there. No, I reminded myself that I was a professional amongst my
peers, or people I hoped would be my peers once I had the appropriate training,
and professionals do not create scenes in public.

"You are so going to get it when no one can see me rip a
strip off you," I hissed, grabbing my purse and conference program from the
table.

"Have I told you how arousing I find it when you threaten
me?"

I kept my voice low and as mean as I could make it. "Then
you're going to love the descriptions of how I'm going to decapitate you if you
ever again embarrass me that way. You do not approve me seeking a mentor, Drake?
Just who the devil do you think you are? I told you last month that I wasn't
going to be your mate. You let me walk away without a single word of protest, if
you recall So don't give me this domineering crap now, because I'm not going to
stand for it."

He grabbed my arm as I pushed my way past him, swinging me
around to face him. His hand on my bare arm sent little frissons of heat
throughout my body, frissons I steadfastly ignored. I had made my choice, and by
god, I was going to stick to it, no matter how much his gorgeous green eyes
seemed to sear my soul.

"I did not explain the situation to you last night because
you were exhausted and needed sleep, and you slipped away this morning before I
could inform you of your duties, but if you insist on having the discussion in
public, I will oblige you. I allowed you to leave last month because you were
still confused about your new role."

"Allowed?" I gasped, struggling to keep my voice low. A few
people sitting nearby glanced over at us, but no one else seemed to notice. My
throat ached with the need to yell at Drake, while my body warred with my mind
over whether or not it would be a good idea to throw myself in his arms and kiss
the fire right out of him. My mind won the battle, but my body had its
revenge—unable to resist the temptation, I pushed back an errant lock of his
dark hair from where it had fallen over his brow. "You did not allow me to do
anything, you scaly-skinned lizard. We had a little fling, it didn't work out, I
left. End of story. There was no allowing going on anywhere."

"You are my mate."

"So you say."

A tiny little wisp of smoke curled out of his nostril, always
a sign that I was pushing his notoriously short temper. "You came to me of your
own accord last night."

"Only because I was being plagued by naked men, and you're
big enough and bad enough to scare them off."

"You want me."

That last was said in a low, sexy growl that set my whole
body vibrating. I thought about denying his statement, but I knew if I did, he'd
consider it a challenge and feel obliged to prove he could arouse me with just a
look.

"Yeah, I do. But you want me, too, so we're even Steven."

"I need you."

My mind ground to a halt at his words. I had a horrible
suspicion that my mouth hung open a little, too, but I was too stunned by his
admission to worry about that. "What?"

"You are my mate and an important member of my sept. I need
you. The summit cannot continue without your participation."

"Me? What on earth do I have to do with anything dragonish?"

"Mates bear an important part in our society. If something
was to happen to me, it would be you who would control the sept. It is tradition
that mates are involved in all important decisions."

"But I don't know anything about you guys! I wouldn't know
what to do at an important summit"

"You sit next to me and answer any questions asked of you.
That is all. It will not be difficult. I will conduct the actual negotiations.
Your role as mate is primarily one of showing assent and support for my
proposals."

I shook my head, more to clear it than to negate what he was
saying. "Drake, I appreciate the fact that you think I have a role to play with
your clan, but we've talked about this. It's not going to happen."

"If you do not help me, the dragons will war, and although
our peace has been tentative, a full war is something that has not happened for
seven hundred years. The last time it happened, the mortal world suffered most
grievously."

"How?" I asked, unable to keep myself from asking.

"Plague. As a result of the last dragon war, a plague struck
Europe and twenty-five million people died. Do you wish to risk such an atrocity
recurring?" I stared deep into his emerald eyes to determine the slightest sign
of deception or ulterior motive. His eyes were unshadowed by anything but
sadness. "Lunch is at two in the atrium. Wear something green."

The black plague. He had to be talking about the black
plague, which struck Europe in the mid-fourteenth century and decimated almost
half the population . . . wear something green" Drake walked away without
waiting for me to answer. I ground my teeth, biting back all the things I wanted
to say as I stormed into the hotel, swearing this was the very last time Drake
would have the opportunity to manipulate me. Damn his finessing self, pushing me
into doing his wishes by giving me a choice between two evils.

I could bring down a plague upon the world, or I could have
lunch with a few bossy dragons. When put that way, it didn't seem like such a
momentous choice to make.

I just hate it when I'm wrong about things like that...

"You forgot about me!"

"I did not. I just got a little busy."

"You forgot me and you left me. Two strikes, Aisling."

"I was held up, that's all."

Jim shot me an accusatory glare as we waited outside the
hotel for Rene, "You said you were waiting for your appointment with Moa. How
busy can you be just hanging around the lobby?"

"For your information, I was trying to deal with some
non-Otherworld businessman staying here who wouldn't take no for an answer. He
all but ripped down the door to our room when I tried to escape. I had to call
security."

Jim rolled its big eyes. "Oh, right. Like I'm going to
believe that?"

"It's true! I was accosted! Hit on! By some guy in a nice
suit, and no, he wasn't old or insane—at least, he wasn't old."

"Ha!"

"Moa never showed up, either," I said, kicking irritably at a
pebble on the pavement. "You'd think she would at least have left me a message
on the message board, but no, she just left me waiting for her in the lobby,
fending off randy businessmen."

"A likely story. You forgot me, pure and simple, leaving me
to the nonexistent mercies of that butch Guardian who sent me into limbo." Jim's
body shook. "It was horrible, a ghastly nightmare of nothingness, just me and a
couple of late-night talk show hosts floating around with nothing to do but
listen to them name-drop. Don't ever do that to me again."

"I don't know why you're complaining. They fined me a hundred
euros for your containment. Do you see Rene's taxi?" I stood up from the wooden
bench alongside the lobby doors and peered down the curved drive that ended at
the front of the hotel. It was the only place cars were allowed on the whole of
Margaret Island, and thus far Rene was ten minutes late.

"No. But fruit girl is at six o'clock and coming on strong."

I turned to smile at Tiffany as she greeted us. "Hello,
Aisling and Jim. That is a very pretty dress, Aisling. I had one just like it
when I was going through my Romany stage, although I quickly outgrew it when I
realized that all those ruffles and flounces made my hips look positively huge.
Why is Jim wearing a towel around his neck?"

I smoothed my hands down my lightweight gauze ruffly,
beflounced broomstick skirt, wondering if Tiffany was being catty or if my hips
did, in fact, look so massive she had to give me a gentle pointer. One glance at
her white denim miniskirt and matching halter top left me be-beving the latter.
She didn't look catty—she looked fashionable. "Jim managed to leave the last of
its drool cloths in limbo, so now it has to wear a towel. Do you think if I
belted this blouse instead of tucking it into the skirt it would be more
flattering in the hip region?"

"Warning, warning! Do not mention her butt! Whatever you do,
do not mention her butt!"

Both Tiffany and I ignored Jim, Her head tipped to the side,
her long blond ponytail swinging gently behind her. "It might help a little bit.
What are you doing here?"

I yanked the sleeveless gauze blouse out of my skirt and used
the silk scarf that I'd been wearing to confine my hair as a belt instead.
"We're waiting on a friend who drives a taxi. We're going into the city because
I have to deliver something to someone,"

"Oooh, a drive! I love to go for drives. I love to see
people, and share smiles, and feel the warm glowing goodness that always follows
me."

She waited, expectant.

My lips curved into a bit of a forced smile. I didn't want to
be downright rude to Tiffany, but I really didn't relish the thought of being
confined with her chirpy brand of self-centered altruism, either. "Er... we'd
love to have you come with us, Tiffany, but the truth is, I don't know where to
find the person I'm looking for, so the trip is bound to take at least a few
hours. I'm sure you'd be bored, not to mention you'd miss the lunch banquet and
some of the afternoon's workshops."

She clapped her hands together happily. "A long ride! That
is even better, because then there are so many more people to see and share
smiles and happiness with! We will be like butterflies flitting from person to
person, bringing joy wherever we go. Thank you for the kind invitation to join
you, Aisling. I do not mind in the least missing either lunch or a few
workshops, and I do not have any appointments until the moon comes up later
tonight."

"Uh—"

A car had pulled up while we were speaking, disgorging a
couple of occupants, the driver coming around to pull luggage from the rear of
the car while the man and woman went into the hotel. The driver, a handsome man
with a brown goatee, turned to walk past us. Instead, the bags fell from his
hands as he flung himself at me, wrapping his arms around my legs and saying
something in fervent Hungarian into my pelvis.

"What the—hey! Get off me!" I tried to step backwards out of
the man's embrace, but he just clung tighter lo me, speaking in between the
kisses he was pressing into my stomach.

"How very curious," Tiffany said, eyeing the man doubtfully.
She pulled a mirror from her purse and checked herself. "Most unexplained. This
man, he says he wishes to have many sex acts with you."

I grabbed the man's ears and tried to push him off me. He
just made kissy lips at me, his arms locked around the back of my legs. "Well,
he's not getting any! You! Go away! No sex! Bad man! Leave me alone or I'll deck
you! Crap, he doesn't seem to understand. Tiffany, you must speak Hungarian if
you understood what he said?"

"Yes, my mother was from a small town near the Romanian
border," she said, still primping as she frowned slightly into the mirror, "It
does not make sense at all. Here am I, all sunshine and beauty and glorious
Summer Eyes, and yet the man, he kisses her belly and not mine. My belly is very
smooth and nice."

"Look, this isn't a—hey, hey, hey! No squeezing cheek,
buster! This isn't a contest, Tiffany. Nor do I want this man's attentions.
Would you please tell him to go away and leave me alone?"

She rattled off something to the man. He answered her as he
shook his head, releasing one arm around my legs in order to grab my wrist and
begin placing wet, smacking kisses along my hand.

Tiffany shrugged. "He says he will give you many fine babies.
He says he will spend every waking moment making many sex acts with you. It is
obvious to me that he is without his brains. I am a virgin. I have much charm
and attractiveness, and my smile is very happy. It is impossible that he should
desire you over me unless he is without his brains."

"No babies," I shrieked, pulling ruthlessly on his hair. "No
sex acts! Jim, dammit, help me!"

"What do you want me to do, bite him?" Jim asked, sitting
next to the bench, watching the scene with amusement glittering in its eyes.

"Yes, thank you, if it wouldn't be too much trouble," I
snarled, pounding the man's head with my free arm.

Rene pulled up on the other side of the lust-crazed madman's
car, his lips pursing in a silent whistle when he saw us.

"Right, that's it. No more miss nice guy." I brought the knee
of my free leg up into the crazy man's jaw, his head snapping back with an
audible grunt of pain. He fell backwards when I lunged sideways, but he didn't
completely release me, one hand grabbing frantically for my ankle. I threw
myself toward the taxi, trying desperately to shake him off. Tiffany had already
entered the car, with