Page 20 of Up In Smoke


  “You were trying to have sex with a statue in a fountain?” I asked. Gabriel’s lips twitched as if he was having a hard time keeping from laughing.

  “It was a very large misunderstanding,” Magoth told me before switching his attention to the policewoman. The look he sent her was positively lecherous. “If you get my drift.”

  The woman slid me a quick glance.

  “Oh, don’t mind her,” he said quickly, leaning back in a wooden chair in a pose that was seductive despite the bleak surroundings. “We have an open marriage.”

  “Very open, to the point of being nonexistent,” I snapped. “And while we’re on that subject, stop telling people we’re married. I’m Gabriel’s mate, not yours.”

  “Sweet May, it wounds me near unto death that you would deny the fact that you are my consort,” he said, still making eyes at the policewoman, who was starting to look doubtful.

  “That’s true, you are, and in”—Sally’s voice dropped to a whisper—“in this world, the equivalent would be a spouse.”

  “I don’t care. I won’t have you slighting Gabriel in order to pump up your own ego,” I said, taking Gabriel’s hand again.

  The policewoman watched with growing suspicion. “You are monsieur’s legal representative?” she asked Gabriel.

  Gabriel smiled his usual charming smile. “That’s right. And if you do not mind, madame and I would like to talk to my client. Privately.”

  She left us alone with Magoth, but only after insisting the others remain outside. Sally raised a bit of a fuss over being excluded.

  “It’s not like I don’t have a right to be here,” she told the policewoman. “I’m his apprentice! Well, at least I was until he sent me to May, but even if you consider that binding—and I don’t, not at all, because I didn’t sign on to learn how to be a consort!—even if you consider that binding, then I should still get to stay because she does, and I’m her apprentice.”

  “Only family and legal representatives may remain with the prisoners,” the policewoman said, politely but firmly herding Sally out the door.

  “I’ll be right outside if you need me!” the latter called as the door was closed.

  The second it was closed, Magoth was on his feet, storming around the room waving his hands in the dramatic fashion he favored when irritated.

  “Get me out of this . . . this . . . hellhole of mortal sensibilities!” he demanded, stomping to the door and back in a fairly good imitation of a caged beast.

  I leaned my hip against the small wooden table in the center of the room. “And what, exactly, do you expect me to do? You’re the one who had a hard-on of such extent it required a stone statue to relieve.”

  “Don’t be idiotic,” he snarled, pacing between the door and the far wall. “I wasn’t screwing the statue—it was a matter of a simple incantation. I was trying to bring forth a Sybarite, if you must know, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said, surprised. “A lust demon? What on earth did you want a lust demon for?”

  Gabriel touched my arm and nodded toward the corner. A video camera was perched jauntily on the wall, its red light blinking as it obviously filmed us.

  “Er . . . that is . . . never mind.” I said, mindful of that fact. “I take it you weren’t successful?”

  “Do you see a small being with giant genitalia humping your leg?” he asked with an exaggerated arm movement.

  “No, but it concerns me that you were even trying.” I mulled over the idea of Magoth with a being wholly devoted to pleasures of the carnal sort.

  “Does it really matter what his reasons were for being arrested?” Gabriel asked, glancing at his watch. “We have things to do, little bird. I believe it would be best if we were to provide bail for Magoth and conduct our discussion in a more appropriate location.”

  Magoth pounced on one of Gabriel’s words. “Discussion? What discussion do you wish to have with me? I sincerely hope it is not that you regret spurning me for Manimal here, because much as I would like to see you grovel before me, I do not have time for the proper training that would be required to turn you into a suitable slave.”

  “Yes, I believe it is important,” I said, answering Gabriel’s question while ignoring Magoth’s comment. I glanced toward the camera, picking my words carefully. “He shouldn’t have access to the sort of . . . abilities . . . that would allow him to call a Sybarite.”

  Magoth’s eyelids dropped until he was gazing at me through half-closed lids, a smug little smile playing with his lips.

  “He knows that very well, so for him to even try . . . well, it says something isn’t quite as we expected it to be.”

  Gabriel and I both considered Magoth, who had suddenly stopped pacing and had adopted an expression of almost angelic innocence.

  “He certainly looks guilty,” Gabriel observed.

  “He does, which is why I still think we should leave him here. Perhaps a time out in a mortal jail is just what he needs to let us find out what he’s been up to this last week.”

  Magoth snarled an oath that was not at all nice, lunging toward me.

  Instantly, Gabriel was between us, blocking my view of Magoth as he growled in a threatening manner. “Do not even think about touching May.”

  Magoth, to my surprise, didn’t back down. Instead he took a step forward, until he and Gabriel were just a hairbreadth from each other, their gazes locked in a battle for dominance. “You think to threaten me, dragon?”

  “You are in my world now,” Gabriel reminded him, the air of menace surrounding him leaving little shivers skittering up and down my back.

  Magoth didn’t like being reminded he lacked power in the mortal realm. His eyes glittered like icy black onyx as he tried to stare Gabriel down. “There will come a day when you will be in my domain, and then we shall see who will reign supreme.”

  “I am not so foolish as to allow that to happen,” Gabriel said, relaxing just a smidgen when I pulled his arm to move him back a few inches. “There is nothing in your domain that I would ever seek.”

  “You think not?” Magoth’s eyes moved to me, his gaze striking me with such impact, I took an involuntary step backwards. “And yet, I can envision just such a scenario.”

  Gabriel growled again, a low, deep growl that was almost inaudible but caused me to shiver even more.

  Magoth smiled and stepped back, lifting his hands in a show of surrender. “Such fun and games are enjoyable, but I really do have much I should be doing. If you could just see to my release, sweet May, we can all be on our respective ways.”

  “You know, something just occurred to me,” I said pleasantly, tucking my hand in the crook of Gabriel’s arm.

  “You realize now that my body has much to offer you?” Magoth tipped his head on the side as he considered me. “This is true, but we must consider the effect that a dragon would have on our threesome. It might be interesting, though . . . the fire, the claws . . . yes, it could be very interesting.”

  Gabriel’s lips thinned. I gave Magoth a look that told him I expected better. “As a matter of fact, it strikes me rather odd that you’re here at all. Oh, I’m not talking about the fact that you were arrested making a lewd attack on a statue—that doesn’t surprise me in the least. No, I’m talking about the fact that you’re here now. As in, you haven’t left.”

  “That is a very good point,” Gabriel said, obviously understanding what I was trying not to spell out in front of a potential audience.

  Magoth’s face darkened. “There was a Wiccan here—” he started to answer, but I interrupted him with a pointed look toward the camera.

  “You try my patience, consort,” he said irritably, and waved one hand toward the camera. It dropped to the ground, the wires that had connected it to the wall still smoking.

  “Oh, great; now the mortals are going to come charging in here to ask how you did that without even going near the camera. You know what that means, don’t you? Either we’re going
to have to spend hours trying to explain that, or we’ll have to fight our way out of here,” I said, annoyed in my own right. “Which means we’ll be fugitives from the mortal law.”

  “You worry too much about what insignificant insects think,” he snapped. “If you cannot dodge the mortal police, you don’t deserve to be in their world. In answer to your question, there was a Wiccan on the staff of the préfecture. She recognized me and saw to it that I was taken to this room, which, you have probably failed to notice, is bound in silver.”

  I looked around the room, frowning.

  “I noticed,” Gabriel said. “I can smell it.”

  “The famous dragon ability to smell precious metals . . . well, wyvern, in answer to your mate’s question, that is why I have not simply destroyed these mortals as they deserve.”

  “Silver is poisonous to demons and demon lords,” I said slowly, pulling a morsel of demon lore from the depths of my knowledge. “It’s an important element in ritual acts of destruction, and can be used to confine them to locations if the boundaries are seeded with pure silver.”

  “Which, I can assure you, is accurate in this case.” Magoth paced the edges of the room, glaring at the walls. “This room was clearly created by someone with a grudge against demon lords.”

  “More likely demons, since there are few princes who are able to walk in the mortal world,” I pointed out.

  “The important point in this lamentably long conversation,” he said with a wicked look at me, “is that I be released. Immediately. If not sooner.”

  Gabriel and I exchanged a glance. The door behind us started to open, voices entering that questioned, in French, the status of the camera.

  I threw myself at the door, slamming it shut. “We’re not going to be able to hold it for long,” I told Gabriel.

  He braced himself against it as another attempt was made to open the door, pulling out his cell phone with one hand. He punched in one number and barked an order into the phone in a singsong language that I assume had Aboriginal roots.

  “That should give us a minute or two,” he said, grunting as he held the door firm despite some serious attempts on it. “Tipene will start a couple of fires in the station that will hopefully distract some of the people. Go ahead, May.”

  “Right, let’s get straight to the negotiations,” I said, my voice rocky as someone started pounding something large against the door. “We will agree to get you out of here if you help us with a situation in Abaddon.”

  “You need my help?” Magoth’s frown cleared as he perched himself on the corner of the table, a slow smile lighting his face. “How very interesting. You desire a favor from me. This is highly unusual, and yet, oddly appealing. And what payment do you offer?”

  “No favors, just a simple exchange of help,” I said, digging in my heels and bracing as the door was continuously pounded.

  He thought for a moment. “That is hardly fair. I do not know what situation you are referring to.”

  I glanced at Gabriel. The muscles in his neck stood out in cords as he strained to keep the door closed, but he managed a quick nod at my unasked question.

  “There is a dragon in Abaddon, a wyvern named Chuan Ren. We want you to help us get her released.”

  “A dragon?” I could swear Magoth was sincerely surprised by that news. He spoke softly, as if to himself. “I have not heard that a dragon was sent to Abaddon, and surely I would have done so. Ahhh.” He exhaled as his eyes narrowed. “That is what Bael was up to. He has been secretive of late, very secretive, and hinted once at an unprecedented event. It must be he who possesses the dragon.”

  “I don’t know who has her, or what her situation is; I just know that we need her released.”

  He eyed us both as we were jounced on the door. The attacks on it were getting stronger, pushing us a few inches out each time. We wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “This is not a fair trade of help. To free me is nothing, but to seize a minion of the premiere prince of Abaddon . . . pfft. That is a huge undertaking.”

  “She’s a dragon; she can’t be a minion,” I said, straining to hold the door. Gabriel labored beside me. “She’s got to be held against her will, which should make her willing to cooperate with us.”

  “Still,” Magoth said, idly trailing a hand down his chest. “It seems as if you ask more of me than I do of you.”

  “Fine; we’ll do this by ourselves,” I spat, turning to Gabriel. “We’ll get that Guardian friend of Aisling to help us. There has to be some way to get Chuan Ren out of Abaddon. I’ll just be sure to tell the mortals not to let Magoth out of this room—”

  “You wound me, consort,” Magoth interrupted, getting to his feet quickly. “Very well, I agree to your offer. Now, see to my release before I regret such generosity.”

  “Make it binding,” I ground out through teeth clenched with the strain of holding the door.

  “Your lack of faith in me is something we really will have to address,” Magoth said with a look of pure scorn, but he casually reached behind him for the wooden chair, easily smashing it to smithereens on the table. He used a partially exposed screw to knick the tip of one finger, pursing his lips in a little pout as a bead of blood welled up on it, then milking it for a few seconds before strolling over to me. He touched the drop of blood to my forehead. “My blood seals the pact between us. Happy now?”

  “Very,” I grunted, wanting to wipe off the blood mark but not having an available hand to do so. I glanced at Gabriel.

  “Shadow,” he ordered, sweat starting to dot his forehead.

  “I don’t need to be protected from mortals,” I said, intending to object to being kept out of the way.

  “I have no time to argue about this, little bird. I can’t protect you and Magoth together, so you must shadow.”

  “Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with bossing me around the way Drake does Aisling,” I answered, taking a step away from the door, shadowing as I did so.

  The door exploded inward, but Gabriel is not a dragon for nothing. He moved so fast I could barely follow him as he snatched up a broken piece of chair, whirling around with it held like a lance. The police spilled into the room, guns drawn, but they didn’t stand a chance against Gabriel. The wooden weapon he held spun and flashed in the overhead light, its movement almost immediately followed by the cries of those he’d wielded it upon.

  I stood pressed up against the wall, watching with openmouthed amazement and appreciation as Gabriel single-handedly dealt with the group of seven policemen. He was grace and power personified, dodging, attacking, twisting around bodies as they crumpled to the floor, and yet I was willing to bet there wouldn’t be a single fatality.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked, following as he jerked Magoth into the hallway after him.

  Gabriel’s dimples flashed for a fraction of a second. “I spent a few years in warrior training with a tribe in South Africa. Stay hidden, little bird, but remain close.”

  I did both, more to be able to watch Gabriel in action than to stay safe. It didn’t take him much time to deal with the few remaining police officers in the hallways, and by the time we emerged at the front of the station, Tipene and Maata had cleared the rest of the way.

  “Magoth!” shrieked Sally with joy, in her haste to get to him trampling a poor policewoman who lay prone on the floor. “I told you we’d get you out!”

  “Really? I don’t remember that,” he said, stopping to give her a disbelieving look.

  Gabriel shoved him toward the front door, handily knocking aside a policeman who had wandered in the entrance.

  “Well . . . I would have said it if I’d thought of it at the time,” Sally admitted, dashing after them as Gabriel hustled Magoth out the door. He paused to look back for me.

  There were enough lights on to make me visible, although I knew it would still be hard to see me. “I’m right here; don’t stop,” I told him.

  He nodded and proceeded, our little group on
his heels as he fought his way out onto the street. We attracted little attention once we had escaped the confines of the police station, and made it to the car quickly enough. I deshadowed but didn’t relax until Tipene had clamped his foot on the accelerator, maneuvering with great skill around the wild Parisian drivers.

  “So you’re saying you lied to me?” Magoth asked Sally, continuing his conversation.

  She smiled brightly. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  He pursed his lips ever so slightly, his eyelids dropping to give her a seductive look. “Perhaps I was a little hasty in sending you to my sweet May. Any woman who would lie to a demon lord clearly has depths.”

  “Oh, I have many attributes,” Sally answered, adopting a modest expression. “I always cheat at cards, I take every opportunity to use others for my own ends, and I make the most divine three-bean salad. I’m absolutely perfect for the job of demon lord, don’t you think?”

  “Such depths certainly deserve to be plumbed,” Magoth answered with a leer.

  I scooted closer to Gabriel, grateful the limousine he’d rented had enough room to allow Magoth and Sally to conduct their flirtation without being pressed up against me.

  “Gabriel,” I started to say, but stopped when Sally said brightly, “Are we going to have an orgy? I’d like to recommend Gabriel join us.”

  “There will be no orgy with Gabriel,” I said, glaring at her.

  She gave me a hurt look. “Sugar, selfishness is very unbecoming.”

  “I am not being selfish. Gabriel is my mate, not yours,” I said, scooting over closer to him, clamping my hand down on his leg in a show of possession.

  “But you have Magoth and Gabriel, and you want to keep them both to yourself! If that’s not selfishness, well, I just don’t know what is!”

  I opened my mouth to argue that I didn’t want Magoth at all, but decided that there were far more important things to address. “Do you think there will be any repercussion with the police about Magoth?” I asked Gabriel.

  His fingers twined through mine where they lay on his leg. “I doubt it. They may have our names, but they pose no real danger to us. We will be able to avoid them without too much trouble. You have nothing to fear on that front.”