Holy Smokes
Page 25
Renaldo intercepted him.
“Rene speaks Italian. He’s translating for me,” I said quietly to Fiat.
He shook his head at Renaldo, who pushed Rene back into his seat. “You do not need him. I will tell you what is being said. We are to discuss the war now.”
Fiat was one of those people who needed his hands to speak, releasing my hand as he addressed the congregation. I covertly rubbed my fingers, trying to get the warmth back into them as he talked. At one point he gestured to someone in the audience, who stood up and said a few words. Fiat smiled, nodded, and spoke some more before turning to me. “You must now state your support of the sept decision, cara. I will tell you what to say in Italian. It is not difficult.”
I just bet it wasn’t. “What exactly has the sept decided?” I asked.
A lazy smile curled his lips. “Naturally, they are distressed by the war and wish to see it brought to a timely end.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s going to be achieved how? By helping the green dragons beat the snot out of the red ones?”
His smile widened. “The red dragons are stronger, cara. They must surely win in time. We will simply ensure that fewer dragons die by helping them bring the war to a swift close.”
You know—
I gritted my teeth and blocked out the voice before it could tempt me. “And you expect me to stand here and tell these six hundred dragons that I support that?”
“You have no choice, mate,” he answered, his eyes going cold and hard. “It is your role to support me. To do otherwise would be intolerable.”
“Why do you even bother having me speak to them when you know I won’t mean a single word?” I asked, frustrated beyond all belief. I hated Fiat at that moment and thought seriously about banishing him…except that would get me deeper into trouble than I already was.
What do you have to lose?
“You are my mate. The sept needs to hear you speak.”
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, sick to death of all Fiat’s machinations. “Rene?”
Renaldo leaped forward as Rene stood up, obviously intending to stop him. My temper, already frayed, snapped at that point. I spun around and drew a binding ward on Renaldo, stopping him cold.
Uncle Damian and Jim hurried over to stand behind us, Traci following, a wary look on its face.
“You dare?” Fiat hissed, his face tightening. Stephano, the other bodyguard, started toward us. I nailed him to the floor by the same ward.
“I dare. You want me to speak to the sept? Fine, I’ll speak, I’ll tell them exactly what I think, but Rene is going to translate for me.”
I grabbed for the microphone but Fiat caught my arm and jerked me up close to his body. Uncle Damian shouted and would have leaped forward, but I waved him back.
Fiat’s eyes burnt into mine, his breath cool on my cheek as he spoke a few inches away from my face. “Do not try it, cara. I have not laid my plans so carefully to have you destroy them with a few ill-chosen words.”
“Oh, I’ll choose my words carefully, I assure you,” I told him, fury mingling with an uncomfortable spike of fear. There was something in Fiat’s eyes I hadn’t seen before, a conscienceless element that frankly scared me silly.
“You had best do so, if you want to see Drake again,” he warned, the intent in his voice crawling along my skin.
“Are you threatening him? You can’t do that. It would mean war between the blue and green septs.”
His fingers tightened around my upper arm until I thought he would break the bone. “The green dragons would be lost without Drake, as I have so easily proven. If he were dead, they would not fight. Just remember that when you speak to my sept. You hold the fate of your beloved Drake in your hands. Choose your words wisely, cara. You will not like the outcome if you do otherwise.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was seeing and hearing, and yet knowing in my heart he meant what he said. If I told this sept that I did not support Fiat, he’d try to have Drake killed. It wouldn’t be an easy feat, but I knew that he wouldn’t stop until he’d utterly destroyed Drake.
If he died, so would my heart. I couldn’t bear that.
“Aisling?” Rene asked, his eyes going from Fiat to me. “What do you wish me to say?”
Fiat released my arm, standing back, his face a smooth mask. I looked out at all the dragons gathered and wanted to vomit. I had no choice—Fiat after Drake’s blood was not an option. If the blue dragons joined forces with the red…well, wars had ended before; this one could end as well. I wasn’t alone in this battle—I had Drake and friends. We would think of some way to end the war.
“Aisling?” Rene touched my arm.
“You must speak, cara. They are waiting.”
It went against everything I wanted, everything I felt, everything I knew to be true and right and good, but there was simply no other choice.
There is a way. You choose not to use it. Silly woman.
The dark power nudged me, tempted me, teased me with all the possibilities it had to offer. I fought a little battle within myself to keep from pulling on it, finally turning to Rene and growling through my teeth, “Tell them I support Fiat.”
9
“Aisling, are you sure this is wise?”
I paced past where Rene was sitting on the couch, sipping a gin and tonic.
“I don’t see that I have a choice. It’s either Fiat or us, and I’ll be damned if I let him destroy Drake or the sept. In this case, Gabriel is the lesser of two evils.”
“I do not know,” he said slowly, frowning into his drink. “You said you did not trust him.”
“I don’t have to trust him to pump him for information,” I pointed out.
“This is true. But is there not someone else you can ask for help? What about that man the Guardian mentioned who could help you with the proscription?”
“Dr. Kostich?” A little chill skittered down my back at the memory of my one and only meeting with the man, a few months before in Hungary.
“Yes, that is the one. He is on the committee, no?”
“What committee?” Uncle Damian asked from the depths of one of Drake’s deep leather chairs.
“It’s the governing body of the Otherworld. And yes, Rene, Dr. Kostich is very powerful and likes to scare the crap out of people when he’s annoyed. But he’s an archimage, and I doubt if he knows enough about dragon history to help with Fiat—what is it, Suzanne?”
“Rene speaks Italian. He’s translating for me,” I said quietly to Fiat.
He shook his head at Renaldo, who pushed Rene back into his seat. “You do not need him. I will tell you what is being said. We are to discuss the war now.”
Fiat was one of those people who needed his hands to speak, releasing my hand as he addressed the congregation. I covertly rubbed my fingers, trying to get the warmth back into them as he talked. At one point he gestured to someone in the audience, who stood up and said a few words. Fiat smiled, nodded, and spoke some more before turning to me. “You must now state your support of the sept decision, cara. I will tell you what to say in Italian. It is not difficult.”
I just bet it wasn’t. “What exactly has the sept decided?” I asked.
A lazy smile curled his lips. “Naturally, they are distressed by the war and wish to see it brought to a timely end.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s going to be achieved how? By helping the green dragons beat the snot out of the red ones?”
His smile widened. “The red dragons are stronger, cara. They must surely win in time. We will simply ensure that fewer dragons die by helping them bring the war to a swift close.”
You know—
I gritted my teeth and blocked out the voice before it could tempt me. “And you expect me to stand here and tell these six hundred dragons that I support that?”
“You have no choice, mate,” he answered, his eyes going cold and hard. “It is your role to support me. To do otherwise would be intolerable.”
“Why do you even bother having me speak to them when you know I won’t mean a single word?” I asked, frustrated beyond all belief. I hated Fiat at that moment and thought seriously about banishing him…except that would get me deeper into trouble than I already was.
What do you have to lose?
“You are my mate. The sept needs to hear you speak.”
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, sick to death of all Fiat’s machinations. “Rene?”
Renaldo leaped forward as Rene stood up, obviously intending to stop him. My temper, already frayed, snapped at that point. I spun around and drew a binding ward on Renaldo, stopping him cold.
Uncle Damian and Jim hurried over to stand behind us, Traci following, a wary look on its face.
“You dare?” Fiat hissed, his face tightening. Stephano, the other bodyguard, started toward us. I nailed him to the floor by the same ward.
“I dare. You want me to speak to the sept? Fine, I’ll speak, I’ll tell them exactly what I think, but Rene is going to translate for me.”
I grabbed for the microphone but Fiat caught my arm and jerked me up close to his body. Uncle Damian shouted and would have leaped forward, but I waved him back.
Fiat’s eyes burnt into mine, his breath cool on my cheek as he spoke a few inches away from my face. “Do not try it, cara. I have not laid my plans so carefully to have you destroy them with a few ill-chosen words.”
“Oh, I’ll choose my words carefully, I assure you,” I told him, fury mingling with an uncomfortable spike of fear. There was something in Fiat’s eyes I hadn’t seen before, a conscienceless element that frankly scared me silly.
“You had best do so, if you want to see Drake again,” he warned, the intent in his voice crawling along my skin.
“Are you threatening him? You can’t do that. It would mean war between the blue and green septs.”
His fingers tightened around my upper arm until I thought he would break the bone. “The green dragons would be lost without Drake, as I have so easily proven. If he were dead, they would not fight. Just remember that when you speak to my sept. You hold the fate of your beloved Drake in your hands. Choose your words wisely, cara. You will not like the outcome if you do otherwise.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was seeing and hearing, and yet knowing in my heart he meant what he said. If I told this sept that I did not support Fiat, he’d try to have Drake killed. It wouldn’t be an easy feat, but I knew that he wouldn’t stop until he’d utterly destroyed Drake.
If he died, so would my heart. I couldn’t bear that.
“Aisling?” Rene asked, his eyes going from Fiat to me. “What do you wish me to say?”
Fiat released my arm, standing back, his face a smooth mask. I looked out at all the dragons gathered and wanted to vomit. I had no choice—Fiat after Drake’s blood was not an option. If the blue dragons joined forces with the red…well, wars had ended before; this one could end as well. I wasn’t alone in this battle—I had Drake and friends. We would think of some way to end the war.
“Aisling?” Rene touched my arm.
“You must speak, cara. They are waiting.”
It went against everything I wanted, everything I felt, everything I knew to be true and right and good, but there was simply no other choice.
There is a way. You choose not to use it. Silly woman.
The dark power nudged me, tempted me, teased me with all the possibilities it had to offer. I fought a little battle within myself to keep from pulling on it, finally turning to Rene and growling through my teeth, “Tell them I support Fiat.”
9
“Aisling, are you sure this is wise?”
I paced past where Rene was sitting on the couch, sipping a gin and tonic.
“I don’t see that I have a choice. It’s either Fiat or us, and I’ll be damned if I let him destroy Drake or the sept. In this case, Gabriel is the lesser of two evils.”
“I do not know,” he said slowly, frowning into his drink. “You said you did not trust him.”
“I don’t have to trust him to pump him for information,” I pointed out.
“This is true. But is there not someone else you can ask for help? What about that man the Guardian mentioned who could help you with the proscription?”
“Dr. Kostich?” A little chill skittered down my back at the memory of my one and only meeting with the man, a few months before in Hungary.
“Yes, that is the one. He is on the committee, no?”
“What committee?” Uncle Damian asked from the depths of one of Drake’s deep leather chairs.
“It’s the governing body of the Otherworld. And yes, Rene, Dr. Kostich is very powerful and likes to scare the crap out of people when he’s annoyed. But he’s an archimage, and I doubt if he knows enough about dragon history to help with Fiat—what is it, Suzanne?”
