Up In Smoke

  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!”

  Gabriel and I watched silently as she was hauled away, screaming and fighting every step.

  He turned to me and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

  I swallowed down a painful lump in my throat. “According to the Doctrine of Unending Conscious, if a prince is permanently expulsed from Abaddon, he loses control of his legions, his seat on the council, and his right to call on the ruling prince for help in times of need.”

  Gabriel’s second eyebrow rose to join the first.

  Bael smiled.

  I slumped against the wall, battered, exhausted, and sick at heart. “But he would take with him a compensation for services rendered on behalf of Abaddon. In other words, Magoth would be unleashed on the mortal world with the full extent of his knowledge, abilities . . . and powers.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Fiat called a weyr meeting for that evening. This was a much smaller event than the previous sárkány, held in a private room at a dragon-owned restaurant. Aisling and Drake were present (the latter looking none too happy about his mate’s presence), as were Bastian, Fiat, and to my surprise, Kostya and Cyrene.

  “Mayling!” the last had called as Gabriel and I entered the room, about to run to hug me, but pausing with an odd look of incomprehension on her face. “May?”

  “Hello, Cy. What are you and Kostya doing here?” I asked, pain twisting in my gut as my twin reacted to my now more-dragon-than-doppelganger self.

  “Kostya is on probation. Or something like that. He has applied for formal recognition, and evidently one of the rules says he can’t cause any trouble with any of the septs, so he’s here to show there’s no hard feelings between us and you.”

  The “you” stung. Cyrene had always spoken of the silver dragons as separate from me, but now I was clearly one of them.

  I nodded, miserable, and followed Gabriel as he took his place at a long table. The sárkány was short, just long enough for Fiat to claim he had challenged and beaten the red wyvern, and he was now leader of that sept.

  “Oh, yeah, I just bet it went that way,” Jim said, leaning against Aisling’s leg.

  Fiat smiled. He was still blue-eyed, which made me wonder about wyverns and their respective eye colors. I made a mental note to ask Gabriel about it later.

  “You cannot rid the weyr of us,” Fiat told everyone present.

  I said nothing. Gabriel had told Drake he wanted to have a talk with him and Aisling later, so I assumed we would use that time to explain what had really happened in Fiat’s house.

  “If there is no other business, we will consider this sárkány ended,” Gabriel said after Fiat made his formal statement.

  “I have a question,” Cyrene said, raising her hand.

  “You are not a mate, nor a recognized member of a sept,” Fiat told her haughtily, blithely ignoring the fact that he had been willing to recognize Kostya earlier. “You do not have a right to speak at a sárkány.”

  “I am too a mate. Well, possibly am a mate. I just haven’t been named such because Kostya isn’t formally recognized. And he’s on the list for that, so we get to be here and ask questions. Don’t we?”

  She asked the last bit of Gabriel.

  He glanced around the table and, with a little shrug, said, “I don’t see any harm in your request. The weyr recognizes your right to speak at the sárkány .”

  “Thank you. My question is how someone who is one color can become another color. I mean, I know Drake did it, but Kostya says their grandmother was some special dragon, and that’s how Drake did the change. But Fiat was blue and now he’s red. Shouldn’t that make purple?”

  Aisling giggled. “I thought the same thing, but it doesn’t quite work that way. As I understand it, dragons who are ouroboros are stripped of their septs, which means they’re . . . well, kind of colorless, so to speak. So they can join another sept without having to go through the rigmarole that Drake’s grandmother went through. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

  Drake nodded. “Ouroboros dragons can be taken in by any sept.”

  “Just as they can take over any sept,” Fiat added with a smirk.

  “Provided they actually challenge the wyvern for it,” Gabriel said softly.

  Fiat shot him a startled look, but Gabriel evidently had a reason for keeping mum about the true happening with regard to Bao. He simply met Fiat’s gaze with a steady, knowing one of his own. I followed suit, saying nothing when the sárkány was declared closed, and the dragons rose to depart.

  “Something is wrong with you,” Cyrene told me in a quiet aside as coats were gathered and farewells were made. “You feel different. Are you all right? Is it something to do with Neptune?”

  I shook my head, giving her a little hug that I hoped reassured her in ways my words could not. “No, silly, I’m not a water elemental. He can’t really affect me.”

  “I know, but you seem . . . off. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, but thank you for being concerned.”

  “Now you’re the one being silly. You’re my twin; of course I’m concerned.” She bit her lip, her eyes troubled. “May, do you ever wish I’d never created you?”

  I frowned. “I told you decades ago that I forgave you for binding me to Magoth—”

  “No, not that. I meant do you ever wish I’d never created you to begin with?” Her hands fluttered in movements of distress. “That comes out sounding so wrong, but you know what I mean. Do you wish I’d left you to be born normal. Human. Mortal.”

  Emotions generated by the dragon shard swamped me. Rage, love, lust, joy, and sorrow, all mixed up together in a big jumble that left me wanting to cry to the heavens with the confusion of it all.

  “May?” Cyrene’s eyes grew big. She reached out a finger and touched my cheek, examining the wetness on the tip of her finger. “You’re crying. You’ve never cried before.”

  “Yes, I have,” I said, angrily scrubbing the tears from my eyes. “You’ve just never seen me. I cried when Pepper died.”

  “Pepper? Oh, your dog. That was . . . what, seventy-some-odd years ago?”

  “I’m just a little emotional right now,” I answered, taking a firm grip on myself. “And all philosophical debates about the existence of humankind aside, no, I’m not sorry you created me.”

  “All right.” She watched me closely for a moment before giving a little shrug. “I just thought that maybe this whole thing with Gabriel was getting to be too much for you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, startled. Had she put two and two together and figured out that I was slowly being turned into a dragon? Did she sense my conflicted emotions regarding Gabriel? Did she, too, mourn the loss of my being as the dragon shard took over?

  “Just that you’ve never had a romantic relationship with a man before, and sometimes it takes a few tries before you get the hang of it.”

  I smiled. Oh, it was a grim smile to be sure, but there was a certain satisfaction in being able to force my lips into a smile. “I have no complaints about the romantic portion of my life whatsoever, so you can put your mind to rest on that matter.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Gabriel said from behind me. His dimples were in evidence as he held out his hand for me. “I am loath to interrupt you ladies, but we have an appointment we must keep.”

  Cyrene watched as we left, her blue eyes filled with concern that, despite my efforts, was not alleviated.

  “You are no doubt wondering why I did not speak up at the sárkány,” Gabriel said a few minutes later when we were in his car, zooming through the streets of Paris.

  “I assumed you had a reason for keeping mum about the fact that Fiat most decidedly did not challenge Bao for the right t
o rule the red dragons.”

  “You are as smart as you are beautiful,” he said, his teeth flashing in a quick grin. “In fact, you are correct. I debated bringing the method of Fiat’s coup to the attention of the weyr, but upon consideration, I decided little would be gained by such an act, and quite possibly much lost.”

  “Much lost?” I frowned. “I don’t see what would be lost, except Fiat. Now you have him as a member of the weyr, with the potential to make serious trouble for you.”

  “You’ve met Chuan Ren,” he said with a little quirk of his eyebrows. “Do you believe she will allow Fiat to remain in control of her beloved sept?”

  A light dawned in the dim recesses of my brain. “Oh, I think I understand the devious way your mind words.”

  “Intricate, little bird. My mind is intricate, not devious.”

  I leaned over and nipped his bottom lip, stomping down hard on the dragon shard as it demanded I do much, much more. “It was meant as a compliment, I assure you. So you expect that if Chuan Ren returns to our world, she will take care of the problem of Fiat, leaving you blameless?”

  He was silent for a moment, his fingers stroking mine in a gentle rhythm. “Why is it I can no longer read your thoughts, I wonder?”

  “I didn’t know you couldn’t.”

  His silver eyes considered me gravely. “I’ve only just become aware of the fact.”

  “Does that have something to do with Fiat?” I asked, confused by the juxtaposition of subjects.

  “In a way, perhaps it does. It is for your sake that I did not present the truth about Fiat at the sárkány. You are about to ask me why—I can sense that without reading your mind,” he said with a brief dimpling of his cheeks. “Fiat in ostensible control of the red dragons, while not an ideal situation, offers, at least, some control in the form of weyr laws. Having been once removed from the weyr, he will be certain to follow the rules to the letter.”

  I shook my head. “As far as I see it, he violated the laws by simply hacking off Bao’s head rather than challenging her as he should have.”

  His fingers curled around mine, and I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the sensation. I have always been a fairly tactile person, and holding Gabriel’s hand seemed an intimate act, our fingers entwined much as our souls were. “That would be true if Bao was legally the wyvern of the red dragons, but with Chuan Ren alive, it’s doubtful the control was passed over in a proper manner.”

  “So you’re saying that Fiat, who wasn’t technically the wyvern of the blue dragons despite claiming he was, took over for Bao, who likewise had moved into the wyvern spot when Chuan Ren was banished to Abaddon, but who also didn’t formally challenge for the position?”

  “Correct. Thus, at best, the punishment against Fiat would have been for the murder of a member of the red dragons. And although I am opposed to murder for any reason, Fiat would most certainly strike back should I present your evidence.”

  I searched his face, reading the truth in his eyes. “You’re afraid he’d challenge you for me.”

  His fingers tightened. “I do not fear a challenge of lusus naturae, little bird. You are my mate, and I will not give you up to any other. But Fiat would seek you not for yourself, but for what you bear.”

  “The dragon shard,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment as nausea gurgled around in my belly. “I understand your reasoning, but I don’t see what will prohibit him from challenging you for me even if he is the red wyvern. The weyr allows those sorts of challenges.”

  “That’s why I put that little worm in his brain,” Gabriel answered, his voice hard. “Only a wyvern may challenge for a wyvern’s mate, and he is now aware that I know the truth about his method of taking control of the red dragons. He’ll know that if he challenges me for you, I will simply reveal the fact that he is not a wyvern at all. Much as I believe he would wish to possess the dragon shard, he will value the position of wyvern more.”

  I looked at him with open admiration. “And to think I thought you were just an extremely pretty face attached to an incredibly hot body.”

  “Modesty has never been one of my strong points,” he admitted, glancing out of the window when the car stopped in front of a familiar hotel. “We are here. Just when I was going to allow you to praise me more, too. Alas.”

  “I thought we were going to Drake’s house to discuss all of this.” I said as he helped me out of the car.

  The smile he gave me was pure wolf. “Drake asked us to come in a few hours, after Aisling has had time to rest. That gives us time to . . . discuss . . . things first.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  A little ripple of fire swirled around me, but I stamped it out immediately, not wishing to attract attention. “Gabriel, I don’t think that’s going to be such a great idea—”

  “I have something I wish to show you,” he whispered in my ear as we stood before the elevator.

  His breath on my neck sent another wave of desire crashing through me. I fisted my hands to keep the claws from popping out, fighting the shard for control of my emotions.

  Gabriel, Tipene, and Maata discussed Fiat as we made our way to the suite. I struggled with myself, part of me desperately wanting to have the discussion that Gabriel indicated, the other part sick at the idea of losing control.

  “Pass the word through the sept to be cautious with regards to the red dragons,” Gabriel told them as he led me to his bedroom. “Explain what has happened, but remind everyone that the silver dragons’ official stance is one of neutrality.”

  The bedroom door closed on Maata’s acquiescence. I half expected him to pounce on me right then and there, but he dropped my hand and went over to a safe set into the wall, twirling the knob as he whistled softly to himself.

  “Gabriel, I think we need to have a little talk,” I said, preparatory to explaining my reluctance to engage in any lovemaking.

  “Certainly, if you like. But my mother reminded me I was remiss in giving you a gift.”

  “What sort of a gift?” I asked, curious despite my better intentions. I peered over his shoulder as he shuffled through a couple of black leather boxes inside the safe. He pulled one out.

  “Ah, there it is. It is tradition in my mother’s family for the men to give their brides a necklet. This one was my great-great-grandmother’s. I think you’ll like it. It’s gold.”

  He opened the case, and instantly the smell of the gold hit me. It was a hundred times more potent than the gold dust he’d used earlier, leaving me feeling as if I had been zapped with electricity, every hair on my head standing on end as the rich, sensual, intoxicating scent of gold permeated my pores. I ripped my clothing off, actually ripped it off, flinging myself on Gabriel as I snatched up the thin square plates that had been strung together in a tight choker of gold, rubbing it between us as my body turned into one gigantic erogenous zone.

  “Gold,” I said, making a little purr of pleasure as the metal touched my bared flesh.

  Gabriel’s smile was slow and knowing. “I thought you might like it, since you enjoyed the dust. Kind of makes you tingle, doesn’t it?”

  I licked him. “I want to rub it on you.”

  Instantly, he was naked, his eyes burning with a fire almost as bright as the one that he had started in me. “I’d rather you rub yourself on me. Well, perhaps both you and the gold.”

  “Mmm.” I arched my back, trailing a red claw down his chest, the other hand dragging the gold necklet across his collarbone. I kissed the path the gold had followed, tasting both Gabriel and the arousing bite of gold. I wanted him, all of him, right then, and there was nothing or no one who could stop me. He was my mate, we had gold, and there was only one way things were going to end.

  “Take me,” I demanded, flinging myself on him and wrapping my legs around his hips. The impact of me slamming into him so unexpectedly resulted in him taking a couple of steps backwards until he bumped up against a table. He sat down on it suddenly, impaling me as he did so.

  I sq
uealed with absolute pleasure at the invasion, squirming against him, the sleek silver scales on his chest sliding against my own in a sensation so erotic, my mind was completely consumed with thoughts of nothing but joining body and soul with him, our dragon essences bound together until there was no discerning a difference.

  The last little fragment of my true self gave a hopeless cry of defeat, checking the dragon shard for a moment.

  “Mayling, don’t stop now,” Gabriel murmured, his mouth busy with my breast as I rode him, my hips moving in a rhythm that seemed to sing with the beauty of our act.

  But it wasn’t beautiful, not when it wasn’t really me who was there with him. With a cry of pain that went soul deep, I tore myself off of him, backing away with my arms wrapped around myself.

  “May?” Gabriel’s face was a study in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  I sank to my knees, rocking with pain and regret and confusion, not sure of what I wanted anymore, not sure even of whether my thoughts were my own.

  “Please, little bird. Tell me what I’ve done.” Gabriel’s hands were warm on my knees as I rocked silently, wishing things had happened differently.

  “May. Please.”

  I couldn’t ignore the pain in his voice. He thought it was something he’d done, and I couldn’t let him continue to think that.

  “Put the necklace away,” I said, the scent of it driving me almost insane with desire.

  He said nothing but returned it to the box, locking it away in the safe.

  “It’s the dragon shard,” I said, looking up at him as he returned to me. My heart was so filled with regret, I thought it might break.

  A little frown appeared between his brows. “You’re still worried about that? I’ve told you that you will learn the ways—”

  “I don’t want to,” I interrupted with a wail, taking his hands and tugging him down to me. “Don’t you see? I don’t want to be a dragon, Gabriel! I never did! But the shard is too strong for me. It’s taking over, and every time we make love, it gains a little more ground. It’s not going to take much more and it’ll have taken over all of me!”