Light My Fire (21 page)

“No. There are the eight princes of Abaddon, of which
I am one, and then there is you.”

“Wait a minute ...” I shook my head, hoping it would clear my confusion. “Are you saying that other than you
guys, the big demon lords, the ones who rule Abaddon,
I’m the only other demon lord around?”

“Your pretense bores me,” Ariton drawled. “Your disrespect and insults I find less acceptable, but given the se
rious times in which we find ourselves, I will overlook
them both. You have the cycle of one day to come to your
senses and acquiesce to my generous offer.”

He turned his back on me, as if dismissing me. Jim hurried for the door next to the fainting couch. “And if I don’t acquiesce?” I asked, dreading the response but un
able to keep from asking the question.

“Asmodeus poses the only serious threat to the throne.
If you refuse me, I will assume you desire him in power
and will treat you accordingly.”

My blood curdled at the unspoken intent behind his
words. I walked slowly out the door, down a wood-
paneled hallway to what I assumed was a front door,
wondering how my life had gone so wrong in such a short
amount of time.

Ariton followed me to the door.

“Be warned. Aisling Grey.” Ariton’s voice stopped me
as I reached for the doorknob. I fought the unspoken
command he had issued me but decided after a brief battle that it would do me more damage to fight his compul
sion. “I intend to rule Abaddon. Heed my warning if you
wish to survive.”

“Good luck with that,” was all I said as I opened to the
door and walked out.. . until I got a good look around
me. The line of white stone houses, the black wrought-
iron fences, the intersection were horribly familiar—
goose bumps marched up and down my arms as I spun
around to face the demon lord.

“You know, you might get a little more cooperation
from people if you didn’t try to shoot them first!”

Ariton’s eyes narrowed. “You try my patience, human.
You have been warned.”

The black lacquered door shut with a solid click, leav
ing me to stare at the house and wonder whether my eyes
had been deceiving me. I was willing to swear that the ex
pression that flashed in the demon lord’s eyes was blank
confusion.

Was he working with the red dragons? He had to
be ... because if neither of them was responsible for
shooting at me, who was?

13

“Hi. Do you think you can pay off the taxi guy? He
seems to be a bit leery of me getting too close to him.”

Pal, who answered the bell to Drake’s house, stared in
wordless horror at the sword that still stuck out of my
stomach.

I stumbled past him into the hall, relief at being safe
again causing my muscles to go all rubbery. “Thank god.”

“Aisling? Is that you? What happened to you—oh,
merciful heaven!”

“Mon dieu!”
Rene appeared behind Nora, the two of them frozen in identical expressions of horror.

“Yeah, it’s us. You wouldn’t believe where we’ve
been,” Jim said, sauntering around me. “I stubbed a toe.
Did we miss dinner?”

“What. . .” Nora took one step forward, stopping to
gawk at the sword. It took her a couple of seconds to pull
herself together. “Dear heaven. I’ll call a paramedic.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a familiar deep voice rum
bled down the staircase. Drake stood at the top, his face impassive as I turned toward him. A shadow emerged
from behind him and resolved itself into the hotheaded
Dmitri.

I had been about to run screaming for comfort to
Drake, but the sight of the other dragon had me stiffening
my back instead. I might be willing to appear weak and
needy in front of Drake and my friends, but a trouble
some sept member was another matter.

“Hello, Dmitri. Hi, Drake. It would seem the red drag
ons are quite serious about war.”

“Indeed.” Drake sauntered down the stairs just as if the
sword gutting me was nothing out of the ordinary. “Istvan?”

The bodyguard nodded and headed for the phone.
Nora hurried over next to me, carefully putting an arm
around my shoulders. “You should sit. Or lie down. Or...” She stopped and looked at Drake. “Aren’t you going to
do
anything?”

“Of course I am.” Drake’s voice was as smooth as his face was expressionless. I wondered what sort of trouble
Dmitri had been stirring up to cause Drake to go so stony.
“I am seeing Dmitri to the door.”

The situation was so ludicrous, I almost laughed. I had
to struggle to keep my lips in a relatively straight line. I
knew Drake wasn’t being callous. He could see for him
self that I wasn’t in any imminent danger of corking off.
I was certain he’d had Istvan call for medical aid, so I was
quite content to stand around and act the brave, skewered
Aisling.

Dmitri stopped in front of me, eyeing the sword. ‘This
changes nothing. I will not accept your mate as my own.”

“You what?”

Drake ignored my outraged squawk, keeping his eyes on Dmitri much as one would a dangerous asp poised to strike. “Such a situation would require you to be wyvern,
and as you have not beaten me in a challenge, the point is
moot.”

“Yeah,” I said, moving to stand next to Drake in a
wholly supportive manner. “And for the record, I do not
go with the job.”

Dmitri gave me a scornful look before turning toward
the door, tossing over his shoulder, “She is ignorant, this
so-called mate of yours.”

I knew I shouldn’t do it; I knew I should let Drake han
dle anything related to dragon politics, but I’d had a try
ing day, and Dmitri seemed to be intent on insulting me.
I’d had more than I could take.

“Hey,” I snapped, grabbing his arm to stop him. He
turned back to me with a surprised look on his face. “I’ve
tried to be nice, but you know what? Surviving a murder
attempt and a kidnapping makes me a bit testy. Now, I am
the first person to admit that I don’t know all the ins and outs of dragondom, but I’m trying to learn. And it would
help if people like you would share information rather
than just tell me I’m ignorant.”

“Aisling, release the challenger.” Drake moved around
to my other side.

“No. Not until he explains what he meant. I may be a
tiny bit clueless, but I’m not ignorant.”

“Mate—”

Dmitri sneered. “You really don’t know, do you? What
you said before was wrong. A wyvern’s mate, a
real
wyvern’s mate, does go with the job.”

I blinked a couple of times and opened and closed my
mouth twice before looking at Drake, who stood frown
ing at me. “Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Do you dare call me a liar?” Dmitri asked, anger flar
ing up in his mossy green eyes.

“Does that mean if someone else gets your job—not that I believe anyone can beat you, because you’re just
about unbeatable—but if someone did, does that mean I
would suddenly be their mate?”

“We can talk about this later,” Drake answered, open
ing the door.

I closed my lips on the obvious comment, figuring I’d
wait for Dmitri to leave before peppering Drake with
questions.

“Afraid she’ll find out too much?” Dmitri asked, his
fingers flexing. His smile turned positively gleeful. “She
doesn’t know the truth about you, does she?”

“If you have nothing more to say about the terms of
the challenge, you may leave.” Drake’s voice was so
chilly, it sent little shivers skittering down my arms.

“I’m not interested in hearing any of your gossip about
Drake,” I said firmly. Dmitri clearly had issues with
Drake. His idea of truth would no doubt be yet another
groundless personal attack.

“You will leave
now.”
Drake started toward Dmitri.
Pal and Istvan, who had been standing in formation behind Drake, also stepped forward, their intentions
obvious.

Dmitri wasn’t intimidated. He stood directly in front of me, his eyes filled with derision as he held my gaze.

“No? It doesn’t matter to you that the man who wrongly claimed the position of wyvern to this sept isn’t even a
green dragon?”

That was the last thing in the world I expected Dmitri
to say.

“But no, why should you care when you are as false as
he is?”

“Are you insane?” I shook my head. He had to be.

“That is enough!” Drake roared, grabbing Dmitri and literally throwing him out the door before the latter could say another word. Pal and Istvan followed him, standing
with arms folded on the stairs to the house as Dmitri got
to his feet, snarling with rage.

“Ask the man you’ve mated yourself to who his father was,” Dmitri yelled, turning quickly when Pal and Istvan
started down the stairs after him.

I waited until he was out of sight before looking at
Drake.

He held out his hand for me. “Come. We will see to the
removal of the sword.”

“You know,” Jim said, following us up the curved
staircase. Nora and Rene, both with faces filled with
questions, trailed behind us. “My life used to be boring.
A damnation here, a curse there, with an occasional blight
or two to break routine. Now I have Aisling.”

I glared over my shoulder at the demon.

It grinned back. “She’s better than reality TV, Internet porn sites, and the trashloids all put together.”

*
     
*
    
 
*

“Hmm. It doesn’t look too bad. There was some minor
bleeding, but judging by the clean entrance and exit
points, there should be no permanent damage.”

Gentle fingers probed carefully around the entrance
wound on my back. I tried to look over my shoulder at it, but a head was in my way. A head with long black corn-
rows, smooth, latte-colored skin, and bright silver eyes.
The eyes glanced up at me now, dancing with some inner
merriment. “Do I want to know how this happened?”

“It was a red dragon assassin.” Drake’s voice rumbled
above me. I slumped down again on my side, resting
against his warm thigh, dreading what was coming de
spite the fact that he was holding me.

“Aisling, would you prefer to be knocked out for this?” Gabriel asked.

I opened my mouth to say I’d like to be drugged from
here to eternity, but once again, Drake’s voice answered
for me. “Just get it over with.”

“Hey, now!” I said, craning my neck painfully in order
to glare at Drake. “The next time you get impaled, you
can pick the method of healing. Until then ... aiiiiii!”

Before I could rally a really quality scream, Gabriel
put his hand on my shoulder and pulled the sword out
backwards. “There,” he said, his voice as warm and
soothing as I’d remembered it. “All done. Now, let’s see about aiding the healing of these wounds.”

I stayed on my side, a few tears of self-pity welling up
and spilling over my lashes to splotch Drake’s nice pants. I didn’t have time to get more than a couple out, though,
before Gabriel had covered the wounds with healing
ointment and soft linen bandages, quickly pronouncing
me almost as good as new.

“Thank you so much,” I said afterwards, pulling down the now-damaged-beyond-repair shirt. I gave an experi
mental stretch but, other than a slight pulling from the
bandages, didn’t feel any discomfort. “Wow. That dragon
spit of yours sure is fabulous.”

Gabriel smiled and put away the tube of ointment he
had used on me. “It would have been better had I applied
it directly, but...” His amused gaze flicked to Drake.