Fire Me Up (40 page)

"Thanks." I started to leave but stopped. "Rene, maybe you
should stay here with Tiffany. The guy I'm after has a bit of a crush on her."

"Which one?" Tiffany asked.

"We will come with you," Rene announced, opening the door and
pushing Tiffany out I looked at him for a moment, wanting to protect him in case
things got dicey, but his chin was as obstinate as Drake's.

"Fine, but don't blame me if you see some stuff that'll give
you nightmares for years to come," I warned, walking through the doorway.

Straight into a mob of naked incubi.

"
We have come to help you," Jacob said. "I have told my
brothers what you said about taking charge of our own lives, and they agree with
me that no more will we be used as sexual playthings. We have rights! We have
needs and desires the same as other beings. Piotr wishes to become a musician."
Piotr, standing behind Jacob, waved at me. I waved back. "Stefan wants to write
novels. We are revolting from the tyranny that has long held us prisoners."

"Uh ... well, that's good. Really good. How the heck did you
get here?"

"Nora summoned us. Was that not clever of her? She said that
you would tell us what to do. Since you have helped us throw off the shackles of
our bondage, we have decided to help you."

I looked around at the group of twelve handsome, well-formed,
extremely well-endowed men.

Tiffany approached a dark-haired incubus with rippling
washboard abs, pectoral muscles that probably could have withstood a blow from a
sledgehammer, and nether regions that would do a pony proud. "You have a lovely
smile," she told the incubus.

"How can we help you?" Jacob asked.

I thought of suggesting they put on some clothes, but that
would take too much time. "You can answer a question. Your leader, the
morpheus—is his name Gyorgy?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"

"He's the one who murdered the two Guardians. Where is he?"

Jacob's mouth dropped open. "He left earlier. He said the
signs were right for him to revenge his name and claim the Light of Chastity."

"The what?'

"Me," Tiffany said.

Twelve heads nodded their agreement.

"Oh, god. He's going to kill Marvabelle and kidnap Tiffany.
Why can't I ever meet normal people?" I asked, waving the men aside. "Where's
Nora?"

"Unconscious," Jacob said. "The demon Jim said she had it
knock her out so she could summon us all. She could not summon more than one of
us in a meditative state, but unconscious or asleep she could."

"Oh, great! What about Monish?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. I think I know where they went." I pushed past
the incubi, running down the length of the ballroom to the small room that
served as a meeting place for speakers and the like. Tiffany, Rene, and the gang
of incubi followed. I resisted the temptation to ask them how they could run
naked without at least a hand cupped around dangly parts. The door to the annex
was locked, but gave way after a couple of the bigger incubi kicked it.

"Keep her back," I told Rene, gesturing toward Tiffany before
I raced into the room. "Well, well, fancy meeting you here, Gyorgy the hermit.
Or should I say Gyorgy the morpheus?"

The walls of the left side of the room were made of fabric
over wood, the kind of walls that were on a track and could be accordioned back
to increase the size of the ballroom. Slumped in a corner, Nora lay in an
extremely uncomfortable position, Jim sitting protectively beside her.

Gyorgy had Marvabelle pinned by her throat against a wall on
the opposite side of the room, held a couple of inches off the ground, her legs
kicking madly as she tried to pull his hand from her throat. His eyes narrowed
as the incubi followed me into the small room. "What are you doing here?"

Jacob came forward, shoulders back, chest out, the
personification of righteous manhood. "We have revolted! I wish to raise horses.
Piotr wishes to play violin. James wishes to work at a McDonald's and make the
big hamburgers."

Gyorgy sputtered something in Hungarian that had a couple of
the incubi stepping back in fear.

"Looks like your days of being head stud are over," I told
him, strolling forward. "Your boys don't want to be women's playthings anymore."

"Actually ... I would like to. I don't mind the job, and the
hours are good."

Jacob hushed the younger incubus who had spoken.

"Marvabelle's turning purple," I pointed out, nodding toward
her. "Why don't you let her down, and we can talk about this?"

"She will die for her crime."

"Ya think? OK, how about this—you may have your
ex-girlfriend, but I have Tiffany. Rene?"

Tiffany and Rene entered the room. Gyorgy gasped and dropped
Marvabelle, who hit the ground like a sack of anvils. She coughed and gagged,
clutching at her throat. I wanted to go over and make sure she was all right,
but I didn't dare leave Gyorgy.

"Beauteous one! Has the she-devil harmed you?"

Tiffany gave him a haughty look. "Hello, Gyorgy. I did not
know you were an incubus. You must be a very bad one to kill women. I do not
like bad men. I will not give you my virtue."

Gyorgy groaned and went onto his knees, Marvabelle forgotten
for the moment. "My darling, my beautiful goddess, do not believe the lies you
hear about me. You alone possess the purity that can salvage my soul. You are my
savior, my mother, the woman who will bring me back to life."

"Jim?" I said quietly.

"Got it right here," it answered, dropping the bag of
supplies I’d bought earlier.

"How's Nora?"

"OK, although she's going to have a sore head in the
morning."

"That's very pretty," Tiffany told Gydrgy, pausing to give
one of the incubi a smile. "But I do not wish to be your mother. To be a mother
would mean I would no longer be a virgin. That is what I do best. It would be a
shame if I stopped."

I pulled a spool of red thread from the bag, slowly,
carefully making a circle around Gyorgy, allowing the thread to trail on the
floor behind me.

Marvabelle clawed her way to her knees, clutching the wall in
an attempt to get to her feet.

"You will give me your virtue, for without it I am damned,"
Gyorgy cried, pointing to where Marvabelle was still partially slumped against
the wall. "She stole my manhood from me! She took it when she rejected me. Me!
The most renowned lover of all the House of Balint! I offered her endless bliss
in my arms, asking only for her soul in exchange, but she refused me, cast me
aside, laughed at me, and called me a poor lover."

"Whoa! This is all about your feelings of inadequacy?" I
asked. "You killed two innocent women and attacked a third simply because one of
the thousands of women you've had sex with didn't think you were the best?"

"I was the best! There was no one better than me! Until she
spurned me. Then I could not function as a man. I have waited many years,
knowing that the day would come when she would return to beg my forgiveness."

"Never!" Marvabelle croaked, clutching an extra podium that
had been stored in the room. She hauled herself upright, then collapsed against
the dividing wall. "I will never beg you! You aren't half the man my Hank is.
Not one third!"

I dug the four containers out of the bag, placing them at
compass points around Gyorgy. He didn't pay me the slightest bit of attention,
intent as he was on pleading his case with Tiffany. "You will return me to my
former power. Only a virgin's purity can restore me, and you, my glorious one,
my flower, my blossom, will make me once again whole."

I flipped open the lid of the container to the south.
"Frankincense for fire."

"I told you before that I would not give you my purity,"
Tiffany said. "It is too priceless to give away, and although I am sorry that
you are not whole, perhaps if you tried smiling more you might feel happier.
Sharing a smile always makes me feel better whenever I am sad."

The container to the west was next. "Mercury for water."

"No. I will not allow this," Gyorgy said, getting to his
feet. "You are my salvation. Just as she must die, so you must give to me that
which will make me powerful again. I thought the amulet would restore my
manhood, but now I know the truth—only you can do it."

"Incense for air," I said softly, opening the third
container.

"No one can save you because there is nothin' to save,"
Marvabelle crowed, on her feet at last, although she lurched drunkenly to the
side. She took a couple of steps toward Gyorgy. "You were a useless, pulin'
piece of turd then, and you're the same now. Useless and impotent!"

"No!" Gyorgy roared, slamming his arm into Marvabelle, who
spun backwards until she slammed into the wall. An electric hum started up
somewhere.

I scooted to the side and reached behind Gyorgy to the
container marking north. "Gold for earth."

"Enough of this. Poppet, my fragile one, leave the room while
I take care of this hag, this castrating harpy. Then we shall be together, and
you will restore me."

I stepped back, out of the circle that was now cast around
Gyorgy. Behind Marvabelle, the retracting wall started folding in on itself,
accordioning back into recesses on either side of the walls, revealing a couple
of extremely surprised faces of the people sitting nearest it.

Lovely. I got to have an audience. Just what I needed. I
sighed. "Thread of crime, evil in design. Cord go round, your soul be bound.
Earth, air, water, fire, by my will the elements conspire."

Gyorgy looked at me in surprise. "What did you say?"

I backed away, unsure if there was anything else to the
spell. The nuns didn't seem to think there was. "Um. Bright as fire glow, deep
as water flow?"

His eyes widened with genuine puzzlement as he tried to step
forward. The nuns must have been dead on with their binding spell, because his
feet were evidently stuck to the floor. "You did this to me? I gave you my
amulet. I thought you were my friend."

"You're a psychopathic, cold-blooded murderer. I'm a bit
choosier in my friends," I answered, stepping to the side and beckoning Monish,
who had appeared holding up a sagging and bloodied Hank. Marvabelle shrieked and
threw herself forward, lunging onto her husband. Their heads collided with an
audible thunk, both of them slipping to the floor.

Monish stepped over their inert forms. "You have him?"

"Yup. Where have you been?"

"Jim told me your suspicions. I went to find Marvabelle, but
found her husband unconscious. By the time he told me what had happened, people
were already talking about your appearance, I knew you must be close by." He
looked down at the red thread and the four elements binding the incubus.
"Excellent work. Has he confessed?"

"Not really. The rest is up to you." I turned to the doors to
the ballroom, which were more than half open. Everyone was watching us,
identical expressions of disbelief on their faces. "Hi again. Is there a doctor
in the house? We've got one unconscious Guardian, an oracle who's had a couple
of knocks on the head, and a half-strangled . . . uh . . . Marvabelle."

The audience rippled uneasily, looking around. A woman in a
lovely peach power suit stepped forward. "I am a physician."

"Good. Could you look at the Guardian first?"

She nodded and knelt by Nora. I waited a moment to be sure
Nora would be all right, then walked out of the room. The people in the ballroom
started shouting something, applauding for some insane reason, but I didn't wait
around to see what it was all about. My heart was destroyed, my future finished
before it had a start, and not much was waiting for me other than a trip back
home, where I would have to explain to my uncle why I had failed my job as a
courier for the second time, and probable banishment from the Otherworld.

Drake stood at the end of the hallway.

"You want me to run interference for you?" Jim asked as I
stared at the man who had so easily broken my dreams. "If I got a running start,
I might be able to knock him down long enough for you to get past him."

"I, too, will run this interference," Rene said. "We will
both tackle the dragon. You will escape without him bothering you further, hein?"

I thought for a long moment about asking Jim and Rene to do
just that, but decided it wasn't any good. I had to face Drake one last time.

He waited until I was within a few feet before he spoke. "You
cannot unmake what is, Aisling. You are bound to me, to my sept. You are my mate.
No desire on your part can change that."

I thought of all the things I wanted to say to him, all the
screaming and yelling and crying and pleading, but all that stayed bottled up
inside me. Instead I leaned forward and kissed him. Very gently. Very lightly.
"You're wrong, Drake. There is a way for me to change what happened. There is a
way for me to cancel the fealty to you and cease being your mate."