Fire Me Up (24 page)

Not that I believed I wasn't already in that state.

"You must first allow me to give you a warning, what is
called a statement of obligation," Monish said as soon as he seated me at one
end of one side of the long table. Paolo and he sat across from me, both men
opening black leather portfolios. I tried hard not to peek at what they had
there. "Simply stated, it says that you recognize the authority of the L'au-dela
watch and you place yourself under our jurisdiction. Whatever punishment is
deemed appropriate by the watch will be duly carried out with your full
acceptance."

"Punishment?" I said, clearing my throat when my voice came
out husky and strained. "What sort of punishment? And why am I going to be
punished? I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't have anything to do with the
two Guardians' deaths—"

Monish held up a hand to stop me. "I did not say you will be
punished. I said merely that if that action is deemed necessary by the watch and
the committee, you will agree to abide by such a decision."

I took a deep breath. "And what if I don't agree to recognize
the authority of you or the committee?"

Monish's hands rested flat on the table. Paolo looked bored.
"Then you will be ejected from the L'au-dela. You will not be allowed to
participate with any members of the society, nor will be you recognized as a
Guardian."

"Ah." I gnawed on my lower lip, thinking it over. Surely
there must be some non-official Guardians? People had recognized me as one from
the time I first set foot in the Otherworld sphere, and I hadn't know anything
about the society. Perhaps if I went my own way, I would be left in peace..

"Removal from the L'au-dela is a serious matter, Aisling. It
means that all the society will be closed to you. You will receive no training,
no help, have no recourse to information if you choose to not recognize its
authority. I urge you to think carefully before you decide to take such an
irreversible and devastating course of action." Monish's face was carefully
impassive, but I paid heed to the warning in his soft, lilting voice.

It looked like I had no choice in the matter at all. Either I
could recognize the Otherworld leadership and play by their rules, or I wouldn't
be allowed to play at all. I could always say no and just go off to be Drake's
mate, but I wouldn't be happy doing that. I wanted to be a Guardian, I wanted to
be valued for myself, because I had value and skills and importance of my own,
not just because my chromosomes meshed well with Drake's.

I swallowed back my worry and no little amount of fear and
nodded. "All right. I recognize your authority."

Monish relaxed into the soft leather chair, a tiny smile
flickering across his lips before he became serious again. "Good. Regarding the
two Guardians, you will please explain what your meetings with them consisted of
and how you came about selecting them as potential mentors."

The next twenty minutes were spent going over the same ground
I'd covered with the Budapest police—how I came to be at the conference
(although the BP police had no idea about the true scope of the conference,
viewing us more or less as harmless crackpots), why I was searching for a
mentor, and what had led me to talk to Moa and Theodora, By the time Paolo had
fetched coffee for all three of us, my throat was dry, but I was fairly relaxed
and confident. This was nothing worse than the grilling I'd undergone with the
police.

That thought evaporated quickly.

"Very well. Your information matches what you told the
police," Monish said as I took a sip of the coffee Paolo set before me. I
thanked him, but he didn't say anything, just resumed his seat next to Monish,
his pen in hand as he made occasional notes. "Now we come to the point of this
meeting."

"The point?" I asked, surprised. "I assumed the point was
finding out how I had met the Guardians. You can't imagine I have anything to do
with their deaths! The police inspector said the preliminary examinations showed
that the women died in their sleep."

Monish inclined his head. "That is so, but we in the
L'au-dela are better qualified than the mortal police to judge the origins of
questionable deaths. The two Guardians did, indeed, die in their sleep, but we
believe they were murdered."

I stared at him, half believing he was joking with me. He
wasn't, of course. His face was all seriousness.

"Murdered? Are you sure? How? By who?"

"That is what we have asked you here for," Monish said,
setting his pen down and lacing his fingers together on top of his portfolio.
"It has come to the attention of the L'au-dela committee that you were a suspect
in two recent murders in Paris."

A horrible, dreadful feeling of deja vu crept over me. It
couldn't happen again, could it?

"Because of that, and because of your involvement with the
two Guardians who were killed, the committee views you with extreme suspicion. I
do not believe you are responsible for the Guardians' murders"—

I relaxed into an ungraceful slump.

—"but I believe you had something to do with them, even if it
is a connection you yourself do not yet recognize."

"But—but—"

The horrible feeling swelled. It was happening again! Dammit,
it couldn't! I wouldn't let it!

"The committee has recommended a course of action that I
hesitate to take."

The loathing in his voice pulled me out of a temporary wallow
in self-pity to take note of what he was saying. "What course is that?" I asked,
dreading the answer.

Paolo and he exchanged glances. Meaningful glances. "I
believe that information is not relevant. Know simply that it would be most, . .
unpleasant."

Oh, great. He was talking about supernatural torture. The
head of the Otherworld's government wanted to torture me because of what had
happened in Paris.

"That thing in Paris—it was just a coincidence." I started to
explain, but Monish wouldn't let me Finish.

"I have read the report filed by the wiccan Amelie Merllain.
I am familiar with the happenings of that time. But you must understand my
position, Aisling. The committee members are calling for your head. They believe
that you have an uncontrolled power that with or without your knowledge was used
in conjunction with the Guardians' deaths. They want me to take you into custody
and .. ." His gaze shifted to Paolo for a second or two before returning to me.
At the implication of something so awful, I went from merely being sick to my
stomach to sheer, unadulterated terror. "I have obtained their agreement to
refrain from committing you to such a regrettable course of action by promising
them that you would, under the authority of the watch, identify the murderers of
both Guardians."

My heart dropped down to my feet, joining my stomach. "But,
Monish, I'm not a detective! I don't know the first thing about finding
murderers! And I don't have any uncontrolled powers! Well, all right, I'm not
terribly in control of the power I do have, but it's not a big power. And it
couldn't kill anyone. I wouldn't know how to even go about making someone sick,
let alone kill them. Intentionally or otherwise. I'm just a Guardian wannabe,
pure and simple."

"You are also a wyvern's mate," Monish pointed out. Paolo
nodded.

"Yeah, but—"

"A portal was opened and a demon came forth before you during
a lunch."

"
The dragons—"

"And it has not escaped notice that mortal men seem to be, if
you will forgive the impertinence, unduly attracted to you."

"That's the amulet," I interrupted quickly, pulling the
amulet's chain up so they could see it. "I was supposed to give it to its owner
today, but my demon got sick and I had to take it to the vet."

"The fact that you are also a demon lord is an added concern
to the committee," Monish said softly.

I slumped even further into my chair. "It's just the one
demon. I don't know why they insist that binding one little, insignificant demon
to you makes you a demon lord."

"It is not everyone who has sufficient power to control even
a little, insignificant demon."

I wanted to melt into the floor. It was no use to try to
protest my innocence. The damned committee I had just agreed to recognize had
set me up for a fall, and they weren't going to be happy until I tumbled into
their grasp.

"There is a positive side to this, you know," Monish said,
chivalrously refraining from gloating over my acquiescence.

I looked up at him, heartsick, soul-sick,
entire-rotten-life-sick. "No, there's not."

"Yes, there is," he said, and for the first time that evening
he smiled. "You solved the murder of a very influential member of the Paris
L'au-dela. Surely it will present no difficulty for you to use your powers to
identify the murderer of two simple Guardians."

My meeting with Monish didn't end on that ridiculous note,
thankfully. Instead, once he sensed he had emotionally beaten me into numbness
and compliance, he shared with me all the information the Otherworld watch had
gleaned thus far.

It wasn't much, just background material on the two women and
the fact that they had both been discovered dead in their beds by maids who had
let themselves into the rooms to clean. Neither woman had any signs of trauma,
wounds, or obvious cause of death.

Detailed examination showed one similarity between them: They
had both recently engaged in sex.

"Well.. . they were both pretty and, according to your
records, single. It's not surprising they kicked up their heels a little," I
said, flicking through the two files Monish had handed me. Most of it was in
French, which I did not read, but he translated parts he felt were pertinent. I
avoided the autopsy pictures he'd somehow managed to get a hold of.

Monish looked vaguely embarrassed. "When I said there was a
link between the two women, I did not mean that the fact that they had both
engaged in sexual relations was it. That alone would not be sufficient evidence
of a connection." His eyes did a subtle little dance. "I suspect that many
people attending the conference have spent their evenings in such a fashion."

I slapped an innocent look on my face. "Mmm,"

The light in his eyes died as he continued, "What ties the
deaths of the two women together is the manner of their ... er ... relations."

"Manner?" I asked, my forehead wrinkling as I tried to read
between the lines. "You mean they were into something kinky? Bondage? That sort
of thing?"

A faint blush stole over Paolo's cheeks. I watched it,
intrigued, more than a little amazed that the man who had taken to plaguing me
could blush over the mention of a little kinky sex.

"No, It was not the type of their sexual relations that I
find curious."

I blinked a couple of times and waited for Monish to finish.

"It was the amount."

"Amount?"

His skin was too dark to see if he blushed or not, but his
gaze did drop to his notes. "Each Guardian had evidently participated in several
sexual acts the evening and morning of her death. The best estimate, based on
the physical evidence left behind, is that each of them participated twelve
times."

"TWELVE TIMES?" I yelped, my eyes all but bugging out of my
head. "You're joking, aren't you? Twelve times? That's impossible! I mean, twice
is pushing it, and three times makes you sore, but twelve times is just
downright impossible! Even if they wanted to, where on earth are you going to
find a guy who can ... you know. .. twelve times? Wait—the physical evidence—
was that male or female evidence?"

Monish looked extremely uncomfortable. "Male. Even allowing
for variations in quantity, the best-guess estimate is twelve incidents."

"Holy cats," I said, crossing my legs in sympathy for the two
women. "So in other words, what you're saying is that they were sexed to death."

"It is believed that the stress of so much intense physical
activity is responsible for their deaths."

I dragged my mind away from what sort of man had the ability
to ejaculate twelve times in the span of a night and moved to what was uppermost
in my mind. "You're leaving out something important."

Both men nodded. "Your mind is as quick as I knew it would
be, given the Paris reports," Monish said. "One of the watch acquired a sample
of evidence from both bodies. It matches."

I shook my head, not to dispute what he was saying, but
because I just didn't believe it. "What man can go at it twelve times with a
woman, killing her but leaving him just fine and dandy, and then repeat the
whole process with another woman the next night?"

"One who is not mortal," Monish said. He plucked the file
from my hands and began to gather up his things.

"That pretty much goes without saying. What I don't
understand is how you can show this to your committee and they can think I have
something to do with the deaths. Surely I lack the obvious equipment."