Dragon Storm
Page 29
“Yes, but we’re supposed to be working together.” I was suddenly struck by the question of just what point in time my job had gone from a solo endeavor to one where I was dependent on Constantine. “Dammit, I don’t need him.”
Amalie’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the two conflicting statements.
“Sorry,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “It’s… he’s… the whole thing is complicated.”
“I see.” She bent over to pat the fat Welsh corgi who snored in a fleece dog bed. “I rather imagine it would be difficult to be a wyvern’s mate. I have known only one other, and she had a very hard time accepting it. I believe it took her some time before she welcomed the role.”
“Mate? Oh no, I’m not Constantine’s mate. We’re not even dating! We were just thrown together in the process of a commission I accepted, and since we had a common goal, I assumed he’d stick around to see it finished.” I gave the door a bitter look. “Clearly, I was mistaken in my judgment of his character. The big toad.”
“I could not help but notice your activities earlier,” Amalie said without meeting my gaze. She scratched behind the dog’s ears. “I do not know of anyone, especially a mortal, who can take a dragon’s fire without being injured.”
“I can’t,” I said, holding out my wrist so she could see the scar. “I used to date a dragon, and that was the result of a little fire play.”
“Your legs were surrounded by dragon fire just a few minutes ago,” she pointed out with a gentleness that for some reason irritated me.
“Yes, but that’s different. Constantine was being all sexy-man, and it got away from him. My legs were protected by my jeans, and he put it out before it could do more than singe the fabric, whereas the time that Ben Fong—a red dragon I dated for a while before I learned my lesson about dragons—the time that Ben slipped a little with the fire thing, it burned my bare hand.”
Amalie stood up. “Indeed? Well, you must know best, but I will say that I have not heard that there is more than one type of dragon fire. However, I am far from an expert on such things.” She straightened a stack of small leather-bound journals on the counter. “Can I assist you in anything else?”
“No, thank you. And I apologize for us using your store as a snogging parlor. I don’t normally indulge in public displays like that, especially not with dragons, and double especially when the dragon in question is maddeningly obstinate.” Sad, I moved toward the door. “I guess I’ll just have to do the job on my own.”
“Perhaps your friend would help you if you asked him,” Amalie suggested.
I shook my head and pushed open the door, allowing sunlight and the noises of the street to stream into the quiet little shop. “He’s made it quite clear that he has no further interest in breaking the curse. Well, thank you again. I hope to see you another time soon.”
Amalie returned the compliment, and I left the comforting confines of the shop and emerged into the late afternoon sun of Paris. There was no sign of Constantine on the street, which for some reason made my heart sink to the bottoms of my feet.
Three hours later, I was escorted into a pleasant living room of a large house in a high-income section of Paris, and was welcomed by a woman with a genuine smile, and a large black dog.
“You must be Bee. I’m Aisling Grey. Kostya says that you are looking for a demon?”
“Yes, that’s right. I have to find Bael, and since he’s slipped away from the dragons’ watching eyes, I had an idea that perhaps a demon could track him down where you guys couldn’t.”
“Hmm,” Aisling said, considering that. “It’s possible, I guess. Although I haven’t heard of it being done before.”
“Sometimes you have to make your own fate rather than waiting for others to do it for you,” I said, trying to look wise. “I figured it’s worth a try since you were in Paris, and my only other option is to hire a tracker to find him.”
“Drake tried that,” she said, speaking about her dragon mate. “He said the trackers lost Bael almost immediately. But a demon… hmm.” She glanced at the dog sitting at her feet. “Jim, you may speak now.”
“Whew!” the dog said on a whoosh of breath, leaving me momentarily surprised to find that he was obviously not what he appeared. “Hiya. Name’s Jim. You have dragon scales on you. Been necking with a dragon?”
“What? No!” I glanced down at the front of my shirt and brushed off a few of the translucent, minute scales that dragons seemed to exude like a fine pollen. “I just kissed him, nothing more. Not that it’s here or there.”
“Dragon mate,” Jim said, nodding, and got up to sniff at my shoes. “Which sept?”
“I have no idea, and I’m not a mate.”
“No, of course you’re not,” Aisling said with a nudge to the dog’s backside. “If you were, the curse would make sure we wouldn’t be able to talk. Jim, stop being so nosy.”
The dog narrowed his eyes in thought. “Man, it’s a familiar scent… at least I think it is, but I just can’t place it. Gotta be that memory loss I suffered earlier. Okay, I give. Who’s the dragon?”
“That’s none of our business, Jim,” Aisling said primly, then ruined that impression by adding, “although I am human enough that I have to admit I’d like to know. Not just for the sake of knowing—there’re very few mortal women who dare date a dragon, since their fire can be deadly.”
“I’m not dating Constantine—”
“Constantine Norka?” Aisling interrupted, her eyes big. “Wow. I didn’t think—that is, he’s a ghost, so I didn’t imagine he could… er… perhaps we’d just best let that whole subject go.”
“Perhaps we should.” I squashed the irritation that rose every time I thought of Constantine walking out on me. “Can you help me summon a demon so I can find Bael?”
“Yes, but I should warn you that this plan is pretty dangerous.”
I shrugged. “I have no problem with that.”
She watched me thoughtfully for the count of eight before continuing. “You know, Constantine might be a good solution to the problem. He’s a ghost, and he can slip in and out of our reality.”
Amalie’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the two conflicting statements.
“Sorry,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “It’s… he’s… the whole thing is complicated.”
“I see.” She bent over to pat the fat Welsh corgi who snored in a fleece dog bed. “I rather imagine it would be difficult to be a wyvern’s mate. I have known only one other, and she had a very hard time accepting it. I believe it took her some time before she welcomed the role.”
“Mate? Oh no, I’m not Constantine’s mate. We’re not even dating! We were just thrown together in the process of a commission I accepted, and since we had a common goal, I assumed he’d stick around to see it finished.” I gave the door a bitter look. “Clearly, I was mistaken in my judgment of his character. The big toad.”
“I could not help but notice your activities earlier,” Amalie said without meeting my gaze. She scratched behind the dog’s ears. “I do not know of anyone, especially a mortal, who can take a dragon’s fire without being injured.”
“I can’t,” I said, holding out my wrist so she could see the scar. “I used to date a dragon, and that was the result of a little fire play.”
“Your legs were surrounded by dragon fire just a few minutes ago,” she pointed out with a gentleness that for some reason irritated me.
“Yes, but that’s different. Constantine was being all sexy-man, and it got away from him. My legs were protected by my jeans, and he put it out before it could do more than singe the fabric, whereas the time that Ben Fong—a red dragon I dated for a while before I learned my lesson about dragons—the time that Ben slipped a little with the fire thing, it burned my bare hand.”
Amalie stood up. “Indeed? Well, you must know best, but I will say that I have not heard that there is more than one type of dragon fire. However, I am far from an expert on such things.” She straightened a stack of small leather-bound journals on the counter. “Can I assist you in anything else?”
“No, thank you. And I apologize for us using your store as a snogging parlor. I don’t normally indulge in public displays like that, especially not with dragons, and double especially when the dragon in question is maddeningly obstinate.” Sad, I moved toward the door. “I guess I’ll just have to do the job on my own.”
“Perhaps your friend would help you if you asked him,” Amalie suggested.
I shook my head and pushed open the door, allowing sunlight and the noises of the street to stream into the quiet little shop. “He’s made it quite clear that he has no further interest in breaking the curse. Well, thank you again. I hope to see you another time soon.”
Amalie returned the compliment, and I left the comforting confines of the shop and emerged into the late afternoon sun of Paris. There was no sign of Constantine on the street, which for some reason made my heart sink to the bottoms of my feet.
Three hours later, I was escorted into a pleasant living room of a large house in a high-income section of Paris, and was welcomed by a woman with a genuine smile, and a large black dog.
“You must be Bee. I’m Aisling Grey. Kostya says that you are looking for a demon?”
“Yes, that’s right. I have to find Bael, and since he’s slipped away from the dragons’ watching eyes, I had an idea that perhaps a demon could track him down where you guys couldn’t.”
“Hmm,” Aisling said, considering that. “It’s possible, I guess. Although I haven’t heard of it being done before.”
“Sometimes you have to make your own fate rather than waiting for others to do it for you,” I said, trying to look wise. “I figured it’s worth a try since you were in Paris, and my only other option is to hire a tracker to find him.”
“Drake tried that,” she said, speaking about her dragon mate. “He said the trackers lost Bael almost immediately. But a demon… hmm.” She glanced at the dog sitting at her feet. “Jim, you may speak now.”
“Whew!” the dog said on a whoosh of breath, leaving me momentarily surprised to find that he was obviously not what he appeared. “Hiya. Name’s Jim. You have dragon scales on you. Been necking with a dragon?”
“What? No!” I glanced down at the front of my shirt and brushed off a few of the translucent, minute scales that dragons seemed to exude like a fine pollen. “I just kissed him, nothing more. Not that it’s here or there.”
“Dragon mate,” Jim said, nodding, and got up to sniff at my shoes. “Which sept?”
“I have no idea, and I’m not a mate.”
“No, of course you’re not,” Aisling said with a nudge to the dog’s backside. “If you were, the curse would make sure we wouldn’t be able to talk. Jim, stop being so nosy.”
The dog narrowed his eyes in thought. “Man, it’s a familiar scent… at least I think it is, but I just can’t place it. Gotta be that memory loss I suffered earlier. Okay, I give. Who’s the dragon?”
“That’s none of our business, Jim,” Aisling said primly, then ruined that impression by adding, “although I am human enough that I have to admit I’d like to know. Not just for the sake of knowing—there’re very few mortal women who dare date a dragon, since their fire can be deadly.”
“I’m not dating Constantine—”
“Constantine Norka?” Aisling interrupted, her eyes big. “Wow. I didn’t think—that is, he’s a ghost, so I didn’t imagine he could… er… perhaps we’d just best let that whole subject go.”
“Perhaps we should.” I squashed the irritation that rose every time I thought of Constantine walking out on me. “Can you help me summon a demon so I can find Bael?”
“Yes, but I should warn you that this plan is pretty dangerous.”
I shrugged. “I have no problem with that.”
She watched me thoughtfully for the count of eight before continuing. “You know, Constantine might be a good solution to the problem. He’s a ghost, and he can slip in and out of our reality.”
