Up In Smoke (28 page)

“Are you all right?” I asked Gabriel. He looked remarkably well, considering what had just happened to us.

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Of course. Shouldn't I be?”

“Well . . .” I frowned, moving around him. My arms and legs felt fine, too, not at all resembling the normal trembling, weak appendages they usually were after being called to Abaddon. “It's just that normally the trip here is a bit hairy.”

He shrugged. “Dragonkin don't suffer the way humans do. Should we seek an audience with Bael, or rely upon the demon to let someone know we're here? I'm inclined to do it myself. I don't think we can trust that demon.”

I followed him as he left the room, wordlessly stomping out the little fires that broke out around me.

“Good evening,” Gabriel said to a young man who stood in an elegant hallway, a notepad in hand as he checked off items on a list. “I am wyvern of the silver dragon sept, and this is my mate. We seek an audience with Bael.”

The demon gave us a look that said it wasn't too impressed with us. “I don't remember any business with the silver dragons on our calendar. May I inquire if you made an appointment through proper channels?”

Gabriel was about to answer when I stepped in front of him. “You may not,” I said, simultaneously appalled at my rudeness and annoyed at an underling who thought he could push us around. “Tell Bael we're here, and we wish to see him.”

The demon narrowed its pale blue eyes at me. “You are Lady Magoth, are you not? Very well, I will inform his lordship that you are here, but I feel obliged to point out that you are not very high in our favor at the moment.”

“You can take that royal we and shove it up next to your head,” I told the demon as it strode off down the hallway. The instant the words were spoken, I clamped a hand over my mouth, turning to look at Gabriel with horror-struck eyes.

He looked a bit surprised in return. “Are you feeling all right?”

I spread my fingers. “I don't know. I'm almost afraid to talk. Did I just say what I think I said?”

“Yes.” His eyes were concerned as they examined me. “Perhaps it was the journey here that has discommoded you.”

I shook my head. “I feel fine,” I said through my fingers, too worried about what my mouth might say next to remove my hand. “Not sick at all, as I normally am when summoned, just kind of . . . feisty.”

“Hmm.” He watched me for another moment, then turned when the demon appeared at the end of the hallway.

“We will see you now,” the demon said with condescension.

“I will speak for you if you wish,” Gabriel said, his hand reassuring and warm on my back as we walked toward the double doors the demon had opened. “I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but if you are not feeling up to it, perhaps it would be better if I were to take the lead.”

“Works for me,” I said, dropping my hand and struggling to regain my usual composure as we entered Bael's study. He stood in a casual pose next to the fireplace, a sheaf of papers in his hand, his head bent as he read from them. An expression of mild interest was on his face as he glanced up. He looked different from when I'd seen him before, now he was sandy haired and freckled, with a long English face and washed-out green eyes.

The aura of power was the same, however, making the air feel thick with static.

Gabriel bowed politely. “I am Gabriel, wyvern of the silver dragons. This is my mate, May.”

“What business do you have with me?” Bael asked, addressing me. I gritted my teeth to keep from saying anything untoward.

“We believe that you have an associate of mine, a wyvern by the name of Chuan Ren. We would like to negotiate for her release—”

“I was not speaking to you, dragon.” Bael interrupted, his eyes cold. “What business does Magoth's consort have with me?”

“I speak with my mate's consent,” Gabriel said, moving to stand in front of me, effectively blocking Bael's view.

The air thickened as Bael set down the papers, turning to face us head-on. The sane part of my mind demanded that I instantly shadow, or better yet, retreat to the shadow world, but that part of me that was being taken over by the dragon-heart shard had me stepping around Gabriel, my head held high as I met Bael's intimidating gaze with one that might not be so potent, but was totally at odds with the normally humble attitude I adopted when around demon lords. “Gabriel and I are of one thought, so you may consider his words mine. We want to talk to you about releasing Chuan Ren.”

Bael was silent for a moment.

“Do you deny having her?” I asked. Evidently he'd been rather secretive about her, and I wondered whether he was going to make us work just to get him to admit he had her in his possession.

Bael strolled over to a large walnut desk and pressed a button on a phone. “Dillard, fetch the wyvern.”

I relaxed a smidgen, exchanging a relieved glance with Gabriel.

“What price do you demand for her release?” Gabriel asked Bael.

“She is not for sale.”

“Everything has a price,” Gabriel countered.

“True. However, in this case, the price is beyond even the capacity of a dragon,” Bael said. “And since I know you will ask, I will say simply that it would involve the sacrifice of your mate.”

“That is not an option,” Gabriel said quickly, before I could protest.

Bael smiled, and I thanked every deity I could think of that we were immortal. “As I said, the price is beyond you. Still, I will allow you to see my newest acquisition, since I am certain you will ask for that, and I am, as ever, obliging. Ah. Here she is.”

Chuan Ren entered the room. At least, I assumed it was her—she was of Chinese descent, tall, with straight black hair and eyes that burned with fury. She spat out something in Chinese that I assumed wasn't a wish for Bael's continued good health, but then she noticed us, and her ire focused on Gabriel.

“You!” she shrieked, lunging at him. “I should have known it was you behind this. You're always drooling over that simpleton Aisling, pretending to listen to Fiat, but lying, always lying.”

“Hey!” I said, irritated on Gabriel's behalf. Rage was swift to fire within me, forcing me to fist my hands to keep the dragon claws from popping out. “Gabriel is not drooling over Aisling, and he does not lie.”

She gave me a scathing once-over. “I do not know you. What sept do you belong to?”

“May is my mate,” Gabriel said in a smooth voice, his face impassive. I gave him full points for maintaining such control in the face of the irritating Chuan Ren. I badly wanted to adopt my usual sense of calm, but it kept eluding me.

“A mate? This is not possible. You lie.” She turned to Bael, who was leaning against the desk watching us with mild interest. “This is some new form of torment you have devised? I will not forget it. You will be repaid in kind.”

“
Tch.
Such is the gratitude for my magnanimity in allowing you to see your friends,” Bael said.

“They are not my friends. Either kill me now, or leave me alone. I will not be abused in this manner! You shall be the first to feel the full weight of my revenge!” she shouted, her hair whipping around as she marched to the door.

Bael looked at us. “Are you sure it is
this
one you wish to have released? It was not, perhaps, a wrath demon or behemoth you were thinking of? Someone with a bit more charm and less lethality?”

Chuan Ren spun around at the door, and I think she would have made a rush for Bael, but his words sank in first. “You are here to see to my release?” she asked Gabriel in a slightly less hostile tone.

“Your son has petitioned us to that purpose,” he said, glancing at Bael. “But it seems negotiations are at a standstill.”

“You ask much gold for me?” she asked, marching back into the center of the room, eyeing Bael much as a cat would a comatose mouse. “You seek treasure of an unimaginable amount? Very well. He will pay it.”

She pointed to Gabriel with the last of her words.

“Like hell he will,” I muttered, stamping out the fire that broke out around me.

Bael said nothing but watched with raised eyebrows.

“Your mate is unlearned,” she told Gabriel, a sneer on her lips. “Just like that fool Drake and his equally stupid mate.”

“I'm not so unlearned as you think,” I said, focusing long enough to light the ends of her hair on fire.

Gabriel nudged me. Sighing, I extinguished the flames, pain pricking my palms as the dragon claws tried to emerge.

“The price Bael has demanded is not payable in treasure and is not acceptable. I have hopes that we will be able to negotiate another one, however.”

“Not treasure?” Chuan Ren looked scornfully at Bael. “What price have you put as my value, if not that of treasure?”

Bael toyed with a bone letter opener that had been lying on the desk. “My standard price for everything is always what would cost the person the most. In this case, it would be the sacrifice of the silver mate.”

“Bah,” Chuan Ren said. “We agree to the price. Take the female and let me go.”

She started to walk to the door just like it was a done deal.

“I do not agree to the price,” Gabriel said swiftly.

Chuan Ren tossed him a crass word.

“You dare call my mate that?” I yelled, suddenly too angry to care if I was being politic or not.

She spun around. “You dare speak to one who is your superior? Begone, before I teach you how to properly address a wyvern.”

“Newsflash—you're no longer wyvern. Someone else is leading the red dragons.”

“May, that is enough,” Gabriel said, taking my arm and tugging me toward him. He had an odd look on his face, a mishmash of amusement, caution, and wariness.

“What?” I asked him, wondering what that look was about.

His lips quirked. “You yelled. I've never heard you yell before.”

“She started it,” I said, pointing at Chuan Ren.

She spat out another word, this time directed at me, and with it, an epiphany came. The anger that had been steadily building within me flashed hot and pure, and before I could blink, I was across the room, slamming Chuan Ren up against the wall, my curved scarlet claws pricking deep into the white flesh of her throat. “I am the mate of the silver wyvern. You dare use that tone with me?”

Answering fire burned in her eyes as silver scales rippled up my hands and arms. She knocked me backwards, but I had a grip on her hair and took her with me, the two of us rolling in a ball of claws, fire, and painful blows.

She cracked my head into Bael's desk, causing me to roar in fury, fire erupting around us as I whipped my legs around, knocking her down. Her claws flashed silver in the light as she slashed at my face, but I was too fast for her, slamming my fist into her throat. She kicked me in my gut and blasted me with dragon fire. I was about to return the favor when Gabriel, who had been yelling my name, yanked me backwards, out of her grip.

I stood hunched over, panting fire, my entire being focused on destroying the female who threatened my mate . . . and as that thought coalesced in my brain, I froze in horror. What was I doing? I never fought unless it was a matter of life or death. I never yelled—a lifetime spent in Magoth's service had taught me the wisdom of keeping my temper under control. And now here I was, not only thinking, but
acting
like a dragon.

“I think I'm going to be sick,” I murmured, turning away from the sight of Chuan Ren slowly getting to her feet.

“As amusing as this is, I do not have time for these games,” Bael said. “You abuse my patience. Either pay the price I demand for the dragon, or leave.”

“Your patience is going to be one sad panda if you don't release Chuan Ren to us,” someone said, and with horror I realized it was me.

I clapped a hand over my mouth again as Gabriel shot me a startled look. I wanted to cringe before Bael and beg his forgiveness at the same time I had an almost overwhelming urge to punch him in the nose and set his hair on fire.

Bael looked at me with blatant surprise. “Does Magoth condone his consort acting in such a manner?”

I took a deep breath, got a firm grip on the horrible, out-of-control mess that was my emotions, and lifted my chin. “Magoth knows full well I'm here, and yes, he told me I had his approval to release Chuan Ren.”

“Indeed.” Bael's expression turned calculating. “I believe I underestimated him. He is smarter than I gave him credit for, inducing you to have him expelled from Abaddon so that he might regain his powers.”

“What?” I shrieked, horror swamping me.

Gabriel frowned. “My mate does not seek excommunication of Magoth, only the return of the wyvern Chuan Ren.”

“I beg to differ,” Bael said mildly, still fiddling with the bone letter opener. “She has made a demand that I release a minion to her. Such an act consists of insurrection, and since she is Magoth's consort, it will be he who suffers the penalty. As any consort knows, that price is removal from Abaddon.”

“
Agathos daimon,
” I swore, a horrible vision before me, my skin crawling as the full extent of what Bael was saying was made clear. “Magoth would be expelled from Abaddon and released on the mortal world.”

Gabriel's frown tightened a smidgen. “He's already in the mortal world. How could a permanent expulsion be any worse?”

Bael pressed a button on his phone, and immediately two demons appeared. He waved toward Chuan Ren. “Take her back to her accommodations.”

“No!” she snarled, her eyes spitting fire as the demons approached her. “I will not stay here! You will have me released no matter what it takes!”