Light My Fire
Page 62
Jim walked around me, eyeing the togalike covering that Traci had fashioned for me out of the heavy, wine-colored velvet drapes. “I’m not saying a word.”
“Good.” I took a deep breath and tied tighter the gold braid that served as a belt. It wasn’t haute couture—hell it wasn’t even a real dress—but it was better than a dirty towel.
“Did you ever see that Carol Burnett show where she did her parody of Gone with the Wind! Your outfit is a hundred times funnier than hers.”
“Shup,” I told Jim, turning back to Traci, who was looking rather proud of itself as it tweaked a fold in my toga. I slapped its hand. “Is there any special power demon lords have about getting through rush-hour traffic really quickly?”
“No,” it answered shaking its head. “You can alter time and space, though. Would that help?”
I looked at Jim. “Is that evil?”
“Naw. Kind of cool, really, although it hurts like a son of a bitch if you do it wrong.”
“Right.” I brushed out my toga and faced Traci. “Show me how to do that, please.”
A few seconds later, I screamed my way into being, falling through the shredded fabric of space onto the sidewalk below, cracking both my elbow and my poor, abused head. “Son of a—”
“Told you,” Jim said, grunting as it landed next to me. “Man, you have got to take portaling lessons. I just lost another toe!”
I pushed myself to my feet, glancing at the back foot it shoved toward me. Around us, the busy evening traffic of London pulsed past, a few people stopping to stare. I lifted my chin, brushed off my curtain, and turned toward the marble-pillared doorway of the London Fencing Association. The doorman eyed me warily.
“I believe I’m expected,” I told him.
“Indeed, you are. I’m glad to see you have not suffered any harm,” a voice said behind my shoulder.
I didn’t need to turn around to guess who was behind me. Cool fingers took my arm in a grip that was borderline painful. “This is just not my day.”
“Really?” Fiat looked me over. “Something is different about you. Did you have your hair done?”
“Oh, for god’s sake!”
“This garment is fetching, but I preferred the other.”
Fiat considered me for another few seconds, then shrugged. “I do not understand why you have done what you have so obviously done, but it is of no matter to me. If you do not do exactly as I say, you will not live to see another day.”
21
I am, in general, an easygoing person. I try to take a reed-bending-with-the-wind attitude toward life, rather than fight everything. But these constant “out of the frying pan, into the fire, into a worse fire, into a worse fire than the worse fire before it” situations that had been riddling my life of late were beginning to wear me down.
“Just once, I’d like something to go right for me!” I snapped as Fiat and his men surrounded me. I looked around for any green dragon help, but the lobby of the fencing club was empty.
“If you do as I tell you, all will be right,” Fiat said softly in my ear.
“Famous last words. You want to offer me a guarantee on my satisfaction?”
Fiat laughed as he steered me up a staircase, Jim following. I was just formulating a plan whereby Jim attacked two of Fiat’s bodyguards while I went after him and the third one, but that idea died quickly.
“It would not work, cara. You are physically tired, and Renaldo and I would easily overpower you, even assuming your demon could disable Pietro and his cousin Berto.”
“No trespassing!” I growled, reinforcing the mental barriers to keep Fiat out of my mind. The fact that he’d slipped through them shook me more than I wanted to admit. Fiat on his own was dangerous enough—Fiat in possession of my thoughts just about made my blood run cold.
“You make it so easy ... ah. Here we are.” Fiat indicated a door. It looked like it led to a central court in the club. I waited until it was a few inches open, then screamed for all I was worth, the noise echoing off the high walls of the corridor into which we’d just stepped. Fiat caught the bulk of my scream in his right ear, but I didn’t feel any pity for him. He yelled as Renaldo jumped me, slamming a hand over my mouth, but it did little good.
“Too late,” I mumbled beneath the hand over my mouth, recognizing the distant voice that bellowed my name. “Now you guys are really in trouble.”
Fiat snapped out some orders. The men quickly surrounded me, Fiat pulling out of his jacket a small black case, the kind diabetics carry around. By the time Drake appeared in the far end of the corridor, shoeless, wearing pants and the green silk tunic he wore at official dragon functions, and holding a wicked-looking saber, Fiat had a good grip on my arm, his men hemming me in on all sides.
Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pal appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn’t recognize.
“Aisling.” Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. “Where have you been? And what are you wearing?”
I pinched the back of Renaldo’s hand until he released his hold on my face. “To hell and back, but that’s a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I’d really rather not talk about it right now, either.”
“Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started.” He stopped ten feet away, still scowling at me. My lips twitched. Drake was deliberately ignoring Fiat, something I knew would irritate someone of his pride. “What is wrong with your eyes?”
I touched the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Is something wrong with them? I imagine they’re bloodshot as hell.”
“They’re washed out, almost white.” Drake’s frown deepened. “You will tell me later what happened to your eyes, too. But now you will explain why, when you were expected to be present for the start of the challenge, you were not. Where is Istvan?”
“I have no idea. You’d have to ask my kidnapper that. Fiat?”
Drake finally looked away from me to Fiat, his gaze steady, his face mirroring nothing more than mild annoyance. “I hadn’t expected to see you here, Fiat.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but as you see”—Fiat waved the small black case at our group—”here we are. I ran into Aisling earlier, and since I knew she would want to be here, I offered to provide her with safe transport.”
“Good.” I took a deep breath and tied tighter the gold braid that served as a belt. It wasn’t haute couture—hell it wasn’t even a real dress—but it was better than a dirty towel.
“Did you ever see that Carol Burnett show where she did her parody of Gone with the Wind! Your outfit is a hundred times funnier than hers.”
“Shup,” I told Jim, turning back to Traci, who was looking rather proud of itself as it tweaked a fold in my toga. I slapped its hand. “Is there any special power demon lords have about getting through rush-hour traffic really quickly?”
“No,” it answered shaking its head. “You can alter time and space, though. Would that help?”
I looked at Jim. “Is that evil?”
“Naw. Kind of cool, really, although it hurts like a son of a bitch if you do it wrong.”
“Right.” I brushed out my toga and faced Traci. “Show me how to do that, please.”
A few seconds later, I screamed my way into being, falling through the shredded fabric of space onto the sidewalk below, cracking both my elbow and my poor, abused head. “Son of a—”
“Told you,” Jim said, grunting as it landed next to me. “Man, you have got to take portaling lessons. I just lost another toe!”
I pushed myself to my feet, glancing at the back foot it shoved toward me. Around us, the busy evening traffic of London pulsed past, a few people stopping to stare. I lifted my chin, brushed off my curtain, and turned toward the marble-pillared doorway of the London Fencing Association. The doorman eyed me warily.
“I believe I’m expected,” I told him.
“Indeed, you are. I’m glad to see you have not suffered any harm,” a voice said behind my shoulder.
I didn’t need to turn around to guess who was behind me. Cool fingers took my arm in a grip that was borderline painful. “This is just not my day.”
“Really?” Fiat looked me over. “Something is different about you. Did you have your hair done?”
“Oh, for god’s sake!”
“This garment is fetching, but I preferred the other.”
Fiat considered me for another few seconds, then shrugged. “I do not understand why you have done what you have so obviously done, but it is of no matter to me. If you do not do exactly as I say, you will not live to see another day.”
21
I am, in general, an easygoing person. I try to take a reed-bending-with-the-wind attitude toward life, rather than fight everything. But these constant “out of the frying pan, into the fire, into a worse fire, into a worse fire than the worse fire before it” situations that had been riddling my life of late were beginning to wear me down.
“Just once, I’d like something to go right for me!” I snapped as Fiat and his men surrounded me. I looked around for any green dragon help, but the lobby of the fencing club was empty.
“If you do as I tell you, all will be right,” Fiat said softly in my ear.
“Famous last words. You want to offer me a guarantee on my satisfaction?”
Fiat laughed as he steered me up a staircase, Jim following. I was just formulating a plan whereby Jim attacked two of Fiat’s bodyguards while I went after him and the third one, but that idea died quickly.
“It would not work, cara. You are physically tired, and Renaldo and I would easily overpower you, even assuming your demon could disable Pietro and his cousin Berto.”
“No trespassing!” I growled, reinforcing the mental barriers to keep Fiat out of my mind. The fact that he’d slipped through them shook me more than I wanted to admit. Fiat on his own was dangerous enough—Fiat in possession of my thoughts just about made my blood run cold.
“You make it so easy ... ah. Here we are.” Fiat indicated a door. It looked like it led to a central court in the club. I waited until it was a few inches open, then screamed for all I was worth, the noise echoing off the high walls of the corridor into which we’d just stepped. Fiat caught the bulk of my scream in his right ear, but I didn’t feel any pity for him. He yelled as Renaldo jumped me, slamming a hand over my mouth, but it did little good.
“Too late,” I mumbled beneath the hand over my mouth, recognizing the distant voice that bellowed my name. “Now you guys are really in trouble.”
Fiat snapped out some orders. The men quickly surrounded me, Fiat pulling out of his jacket a small black case, the kind diabetics carry around. By the time Drake appeared in the far end of the corridor, shoeless, wearing pants and the green silk tunic he wore at official dragon functions, and holding a wicked-looking saber, Fiat had a good grip on my arm, his men hemming me in on all sides.
Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pal appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn’t recognize.
“Aisling.” Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. “Where have you been? And what are you wearing?”
I pinched the back of Renaldo’s hand until he released his hold on my face. “To hell and back, but that’s a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I’d really rather not talk about it right now, either.”
“Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started.” He stopped ten feet away, still scowling at me. My lips twitched. Drake was deliberately ignoring Fiat, something I knew would irritate someone of his pride. “What is wrong with your eyes?”
I touched the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Is something wrong with them? I imagine they’re bloodshot as hell.”
“They’re washed out, almost white.” Drake’s frown deepened. “You will tell me later what happened to your eyes, too. But now you will explain why, when you were expected to be present for the start of the challenge, you were not. Where is Istvan?”
“I have no idea. You’d have to ask my kidnapper that. Fiat?”
Drake finally looked away from me to Fiat, his gaze steady, his face mirroring nothing more than mild annoyance. “I hadn’t expected to see you here, Fiat.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but as you see”—Fiat waved the small black case at our group—”here we are. I ran into Aisling earlier, and since I knew she would want to be here, I offered to provide her with safe transport.”
