Up In Smoke

  “It’s taking you over?” He touched one of my scarlet claws. “You mean physically? That will end when the shard is placed in another phylactery.”

  “No, not just physically. It’s taking over my emotions, too! Haven’t you noticed? I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. Dear gods, man, I’m almost yelling, and as you pointed out, I never yell! Cyrene yells, but I don’t.”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “You have been a little . . . er . . . passionate the last few days.”

  “I was passionate about you before the phylactery exploded. But the shard is doing more than just making me want you—it’s changing my emotions, changing me, and Gabriel, what if I don’t change back when the shard is gone? What if we can’t get rid of it?”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. “I wish I could assure you that your fears are unfounded, but I don’t know the answer to your questions.”

  “You see?” I said, all but sobbing. “I can’t make love to you, Gabriel. I want to, but not at the cost of losing the last little bit of me. I don’t want to be a dragon. I may not be perfect, or even remotely close to that, but I was happy being me. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

  He laughed, and for a moment I wanted to punch him. But then a tiny shred of common sense rose up to point out the unlikelihood of him mocking my concerns. “Mayling, making love to you will remain at the top of my daily list of things to do, but as I assured you once before, I am not a beast. If you require a little space to put things into perspective, then I will gladly give it to you.” He glanced down at his erection. “It will not be easy, but if you wish to remain chaste for a bit, I will not force myself upon you.”

  “I didn’t mean I was sorry that I couldn’t make love to you,” I said, forlorn knowledge making me want to burst into tears. I swallowed back a painful lump. “I meant I’m sorry that I can’t be the dragon you obviously want.”

  “Now you are acting all too human, fishing for compliments,” he said with a playful grin that faded when I didn’t respond. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  I nodded, too miserable to speak, my eyes on the carpet beneath my knees.

  “May, look at me.”

  It took a bit of doing, but I managed to drag my gaze up to his.

  “Before, when you started the mating dance, it was exciting to me,” he said, and my heart turned into a leaden ball. “I would like to say I could have not responded, but that would be impossible. I am a dragon. You are my mate. You initiated a mating dance, and that delighted me. But that delight was nothing compared to what you mean to me. You are my mate, May, the being that is you, no matter what your form.”

  Unfamiliar tears pricked my eyes. I hated the dragon shard for making me feel so overwhelmed with gratitude, so vulnerable. “You wouldn’t want me to be a dragon like you?”

  “Not if you don’t want it, no,” he said, taking both my hands in his, kissing each finger. “You are happy as you are—were—and I have no complaints whatsoever about that state of affairs. So you can stop feeling guilty and unhappy, and instead tell me what your limit is.”

  “My limit?” I said, blinking away the last of the tears, my heart once again hopeful. Perhaps it was a sign I was all too human in that I sought reassurance that he treasured me for what I was, but if so, I embraced that humanity. “What sort of a limit do you mean?”

  “How far can you go without the dragon shard taking control of you?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing across my fingers.

  A little fire started at my knees.

  “Ah,” he said, looking at it.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Just looking at you makes the shard kick into high gear, but I can keep it under control for the most part. It’s just when we . . . er . . . that it takes over. And bringing gold into the equation is definitely out.”

  “Can I kiss you?” he said, bending forward to press a kiss of infinite sweetness onto my lips.

  “Yes,” I said, lifting my head in hopes he’d do it again.

  “Can I touch you here?” He put his hand on my upper arm.

  I nodded.

  A little glint of wicked intent started to burn in his eyes. “What about here?”

  His hand cupped my left breast. I sucked in my breath, arching my back. “Oh, yes.”

  “And how about this?”

  His mouth closed over my aching nipple, his tongue a brand as it swept across my breast, causing my breath to catch in my mouth. My hands went to his hair, tugging on the soft dreadlocks as he kissed his way over to the other breast.

  “That’s . . . that’s . . . that’s really, really OK,” I said, my eyes closed as I clutched him while he tormented my breast.

  “Just OK? You wound my ego, little bird. What about the rest of your torso? Are you still firmly in control if I explore the sublime beauty that is your belly?”

  Fire licked my flesh when he laid me back on the floor, his hair trailing down my sensitive breasts as he kissed a path to my belly button.

  “The dragon shard wants me to roll you over and jump on you,” I moaned as he nipped my hip.

  “It shall have to want in vain. You are in control, not it, May.”

  “I know, but it’s so strong, Gabriel. The need in me is so strong. It wants you.”

  “It only reflects your desires, which does much to assuage my male pride,” he said with a deep chuckle that seemed to reverberate through me. His hands slid along my thighs, gently parting them. “Will it let me touch you here, do you think?” he asked.

  His breath was hot on highly sensitive flesh.

  “The shard can take a flying leap as far as I’m concerned,” I said, my body tight with anticipation as I struggled to control the rising demands that built up inside me. I wanted to tease and run and play and do all sorts of things to Gabriel that seemed both foreign and yet so right. My fingers dug into the thick pile of the carpet as Gabriel’s mouth touched me, the heat of his tongue almost causing me to lose the control I just barely held.

  “Too much?” he asked, looking up at me.

  “Almost,” I said, my voice thick and unfamiliar.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  I closed my eyes for a minute, concentrating fully on reining in the demands of the dragon shard. “No. I think I’m OK.”

  “You’re more than OK, but that conversation is for another time. First we have this to explore.”

  Stars seemed to explode behind my eyes as he slid a finger into me just as his tongue made a swirling motion. The orgasm rippled through me, my fingers elongating as the red claws dug deep into the carpet.

  “Keep ahold of the emotions the shard generates,” Gabriel said, moving over me as he kissed his way upward. “Use it, but don’t let it take over.”

  I struggled to do just that, the claws fading back into fingernails.

  “Can you take more?” he asked, and I saw in his face just how much control he was wielding over his own needs.

  “Let’s try,” I said, twining my legs around his as I dug my fingers into the thick muscles of his butt, pulling him where I wanted him.

  “I’ll stop if it’s too much for you,” he said, biting my neck with a groan when he sank into my body. “It may kill me, but I’ll stop.”

  I held him tight to me as our bodies moved, praying I could do this without succumbing. The dragon shard wanted me to do more, to make Gabriel move faster, to satisfy urges that were too numerous to count.

  It wasn’t until his movements became more agitated that the thin control began to unravel. As the orgasm built up inside me, I flexed my inner muscles, urging Gabriel to finish before I lost it completely.

  “Mayling, I’m trying to go slow for you, but if you do that, it will all be over,” he said, panting as his chest rubbed against mine, his hips making long, slow movements that both thrilled and tormented me.

  “Now!” I said, feeling the dragon shard take over as another climax crested. “For the love of the twelve gods, Gabriel, finish n
ow!”

  He shifted, his cry of my name echoing in my ear as his body elongated and changed, and within me, the dragon shard rejoiced and started forcing me to change with him.

  “No!” I sobbed, clutching him as I fought back the need to answer his unspoken call.

  Immediately he was back, his mouth hot as he kissed me, his body still trembling with little after-shocks of pleasure. “Do not fear, little bird. You did it, you embraced the strong emotions, and you did not change.”

  I clung to him as he rolled over, pulling me with him, mindless with pleasure on one level, but knowing just how close a thing it had been.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Three hours later, we arrived at Drake’s Paris house. “So, what exactly are you going to tell Drake and Aisling about Fiat?”

  “What they need to know to help us with Chuan Ren.”

  I waited until we entered the spacious entrance hall, divesting myself of my coat before stopping Gabriel. “Are you sure this is a good idea, involving them in the whole thing? Drake isn’t going to let Aisling do anything that will endanger her or the baby, and I just don’t know that anyone else has the ability to help us. Maybe if I was to force Magoth to help us, threaten him somehow—”

  He stopped me with a kiss so hot, it made me want to jump him right there, in front of everyone. “My fierce little bird. Just when I am convinced that you could not get along without me, your claws come out and I live in fear you’ll fly away from me.”

  I stared at him for a moment, my fingers moving against my legs to make sure that the claws weren’t evident.

  The teasing light in his eyes faded when I didn’t respond.

  “There you are!” Aisling said, emerging from what I remembered as being the downstairs bathroom. “Drake’s in the lounge. Come in and have a drink. I bet you could use one after having to sit through all that bull from Fiat. I know I could, but the best I’ll get is juice. No reason you all should suffer, though.”

  “I’d like a stiff belt, too,” Jim said, following her into the sitting room. “All that restraint you made me show has left a really nasty taste in my mouth. Scotch on the rocks, István. No, make that a double.”

  “You let your demon drink?” I said as Gabriel, his bodyguards, and I entered the room. Gabriel passed me a glass of dragon’s blood, the spicy drink that only dragons could drink without lethal repercussions.

  “Not after the last time when it got drunk and called up Whoopi Goldberg to demand airtime on The View,” Aisling said with a dark look at her demon dog. “You’ll have ginger ale and like it, buster.”

  “Bully,” the demon muttered, glaring at the bowl that Drake’s bodyguard set in front of it.

  “I don’t want to seem rude, but is this a social visit, or are you going to talk dragon business?” Aisling asked, sighing as Drake stuffed a pillow behind her back. “If it’s the former, no sweat, but if you’re going to talk about Fiat or Kostya, I’d appreciate it if you can do it in the next twenty minutes.”

  “Why twenty minutes?” I asked, puzzled by such an odd request.

  “Baby’s right on my bladder,” she said, patting her bulging belly. “You’ve got my undivided attention until she makes it impossible for me to sit still any longer.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you decided to find out the gender. A girl! How exciting,” I said.

  “Aisling is having a boy,” Drake said, seating himself next to his wife. “Everyone knows that girls are nothing but trouble. We will have a son.”

  “Ha!” Aisling elbowed him in the ribs. “You are so delusional. It’s girls who are easy, and boys who are trouble. We will have a daughter, a lovely girl who won’t put up with any of the medieval bossiness you’re sure to try to pull on her.”

  Drake sent Gabriel a long-suffering look that had me smiling. “I would caution you to wait before having children, but I suspect that May will do exactly as she wishes, including deliberately having a female despite the well-established fact that male dragons are much easier to raise.”

  “The father determines gender, which you well know,” Aisling said complacently, beaming at us as we sat across from her. “So are we chitchatting or dragon talking?”

  “Dragon talk,” Gabriel answered, his gaze flickering to Drake. “There is a situation with regards to the red dragons.”

  “I suspected as much,” Drake said easily. “Fiat’s reappearance and claim are a bit too pat for my liking.”

  With admirable brevity, Gabriel recounted the experiences of Cyrene, Maata, and myself in Fiat’s underground environs. By the time he was finished, Drake was pacing the length of the room.

  “I’ve never seen people pace as much as dragons do,” I was moved to say in an aside to Aisling.

  She nodded. “It’s all that pent-up energy—they have to move, or it manifests itself in fire, and frankly, I’d rather put up with a stiff neck from watching them march back and forth. Our fire-retardant bill is high enough as is.”

  “Why didn’t you mention any of this at the sárkány ?” Drake demanded to know.

  Gabriel glanced to me. Drake stopped in midpace.

  “Ah. The shard. Yes. I see you had little choice but to allow Fiat to continue unimpeded.”

  “I don’t get it,” Aisling said, looking confused. “But wait, potty break. Explain it when I get back.”

  Drake hauled her out of the couch and sent her on her way.

  Jim watched me with an avidity that made me uncomfortable.

  “Stop doing that,” I told it.

  It grinned. “You know the rules as well as I do—I don’t have to do what you say.”

  I gave it a thin-lipped look. “All I have to do is tell Aisling—”

  “Sheesh! No one can take a joke anymore,” Jim interrupted, rolling its eyes. “Fine, I won’t look at you. I won’t touch you, and I won’t sit on your side of the car, either. Happy now?”

  I ignored the demon to watch Gabriel and Drake as the two men talked about what Bao, Fiat, and the mysterious dragon had possibly been up to. When I glanced back, the demon was staring at me again.

  “Will you stop that?” I hissed through my teeth.

  “Sorry. Can’t help myself. I’ve never seen anyone but Ash who lipped off to Bael and lived to tell about it.”

  “I didn’t lip off to him,” I said, moving uncomfortably in my chair.

  “Back,” Aisling said as she returned, patting Jim on the head. “What have I missed?”

  “Not much. Drake and Gabe are arguing about what it means that Baltic has returned from the dead, István has gas, and May was being mean to me,” Jim said, plopping down on her feet.

  István and I both glared at the demon.

  “I’m sure if May was mean to you, you deserved it,” Aisling said with perfect composure.

  “I didn’t—”

  She waved away my protest. “Feel free to ignore Jim when it’s being an idiot.”

  “Hey! Sitting right here!”

  “So that guy you saw really was Baltic?” Aisling asked me.

  Gabriel returned to his chair. “We do not know. There seems to be some ambiguity about his identity. However, that has no bearing on the reason I have sought your help.”

  “Fiat,” Drake said, nodding.

  “I don’t think so, sweetie,” Aisling told him, watching me. “It’s your demon lord, isn’t it? You kind of glossed over how things went with him, but I assume it wasn’t a roaring success.”

  “Far from it,” Gabriel said with a wry twist to his lips. “We had thought to tackle Magoth again, but unless we have something to use as barter, he won’t help us.”

  “And even if we had something, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t just take it and leave us poorer for the experience, as we’ve learned,” I added.

  “What do you guys expect?” Jim asked, rolling its eyes. “He’s a demon lord. Tricking people is part of his job.”

  “Jim has a point,” Aisling said, looking thoughtful. “I suppose I could a
sk the Guardians’ Guild if they could help with the situation, but they’re not really happy with me ever since . . . Well, they’re not happy with me.”

  “Was it me?” I asked, worried that I’d gotten her in trouble with her professional organization. “Was it summoning me so often that got you into hot water with them?”

  Jim snickered. Aisling looked embarrassed. “Er . . . no. It was nothing, really, just a minor little thing that doesn’t matter, or it wouldn’t except the head of the guild might not consider a request by me for help to be awfully high on his to-do list.”

  “She turned him into a simulacrum,” Jim told me in a confidential tone.

  “A simulacrum?” I asked, astounded. “A living statue?”

  “It was just an unfortunate accident,” Aisling said, waving it away. “There was a kobold outbreak in London when we were there, and I convinced Drake to let me help take care of it, and somehow, rather than binding the kobolds so they could be sent back to Abaddon, I zapped Caribbean Battiste, the head of the guild, instead, and he was temporarily changed into a simulacrum. But I got it reversed by nightfall, so really, I don’t see why everyone had such a hissy fit. It wasn’t like it was permanent.”

  I looked at her with renewed respect. Anyone who had the power to change the head of a Guardians’ order into a statue was potentially someone who was the answer to my prayers. “We need your help. I hope we can count on it?”

  “With your demon lord? Absolutely,” Aisling said at the same time Drake said, “No.”

  The two glared at each other.

  “You are not going to get involved with another demon lord,” Drake told her. “It is too dangerous.”

  Aisling opened her mouth to protest but closed it again without saying anything for a moment. “All right,” she said finally, causing Drake to shoot her a look of surprise. “Maybe Nora was right and the baby is making my grip on my Guardian abilities a bit iffy. Magoth may not be much in this world, but he is still a demon lord, so I’m going to retract my agreement and instead offer Nora’s services. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to help you. What, exactly, do you need Magoth to do?”