Fire Me Up (3 page)

Only Rene could take a near head-on collision with such bland
disregard. I twitched with the effect of the adrenaline pumping into my body at
the close call, taking deep breaths to calm my pounding heart. "No, it's not
like me, but yes, I'm staying there. I'm here for a conference that's being held
at the hotel, and they had special rates. It's taken most of my savings to pay
for the conference, but I figured it's worth it. When I found out the conference
was going to be held in the same city where I'm supposed to deliver the amulet,
I decided it was too good an opportunity to miss."

"You see?" Rene nodded. "You listen to fate. That is good. I
did not realize that you knew goddamn.

I mentally shook my head. I couldn't possibly have heard him
correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Goddamn. The conference. You are here for the conference of
Guardians, Oracles, Diviners—"

"—Theurgists, and Mages," I finished with him, wondering how
he knew about the conference. Like me, Rene had been a newcomer to the
Otherworld, becoming involved with it via my attempts to extricate myself from a
nasty murder rap. "Yes, that's it. GODTAM. Gotcha. How did you hear about it?"

"I am not so sheltered as you think," he answered with a
great air of mystery. "It is good that you are listening to your heart about
being a Guardian. It is what you are meant to be, yes? But you mentioned an
object? You are still the courier most faithful for your uncle?"

"Yeah. Something has to pay the bills—not to mention my ex's
alimony. Uncle Damian is giving me another chance to prove that I can transport
a priceless object without having it stolen by a certain green-eyed dragon in
hunk form. It doesn't have any gold on it, so it should be safe enough from him.
How familiar are you with Budapest? The guy is supposed to deliver the amulet to
is a hermit. He doesn't have any fixed address, but supposedly he hangs around
the city parks."

"A hermit?" Rene shook his head, then leaned on the horn when
a bicycle courier dashed out in front of him. "I do not know about a hermit, but
there are many parks in Budapest. Margaret Island is itself a park botanical.
Jim will enjoy the Rose Garden, I think."

"Jim has no trouble finding enjoyment wherever it goes. I'm
not worried about Jim. I'm worried about how Uncle Damian expects me to find a
hermit whose whereabouts no one knows. All I have to go on is an address at
which the hermit is supposed to pick up mail, but who knows if it's still
valid?"

"Do not worry. I am here. We did most well in Paris, yes? We
will conquer this hermit, too."

I smiled at Rene's reflection. "Yeah, we did work together
well, didn't we? I'm very grateful you're here. Are you taking private
passengers? I managed to talk my uncle into giving me a tiny little expense
account for travel and such. I'm going to need someone to drive me around to all
the parks in the area."

"Because walking would be, like, so healthy," Jim said,
glancing toward me for a minute.

"I get enough exercise taking you out for the gazillion
walkies you seem to feel necessary each day," I pointed out. "Besides, unlike
some four-legged demons I could mention, Rene is smart, insightful, and most
importantly, willing to help. I'd welcome any assistance he wants to offer in
rinding the hermit."

Jim made a sour face. "Look, you knew when you summoned me
that I'd been kicked out of Abaddon and didn't have any powers. Don't come
whining to me about how I can't tap into the dark powers to do your bidding."

I opened my mouth to protest that I'd not known any soch
thing but bit back the words. Bickering with Jim always left me frustrated and
resentful, two things I had hoped to banish from my life when I closed the
relationship door on Drake.

Drake. Dammit, why did he have to reappear in my life, just
when I was trying to get a good solid grip on it?

"Here is the Thermal Hotel Danu," Rene said, inter-repting my
murky thoughts. The taxi swept around a grand curved drive to pull up in front
of an astonishingly modern hotel. After the drive through the historic area of
town, I was surprised to find this hotel looking more like an office building in
Portland. It was white stone (no surprise there—many of the buildings in
Budapest seemed to be made of white stone) and glass, layered into stripes that
rose at least twelve stories high, but it was surrounded by the most gorgeous
gardens I had ever seen. I followed Jim as the demon leaped out of the taxi, and
stood looking out across a narrow parking lot to a long expanse of lush green
lawn and flower beds brilliant with reds, yellows, deep blues, and at least a
hundred shades of green.

"Wow! I could get used to this!"

"Gotta peel" Jim said as it shambled toward a nearby shrub.

"Not on any flowers," I yelled after it, then turned to grab
my luggage. "Oh, god, Rene, I'm sorry about the taxi. Are there any car washes
nearby?"

Rene came around the taxi and stared in surprise at the long
ropes of partially dried Newfie drool that were plastered along the side of the
car and the window,

"I should have realized when I didn't have to mop Jim up on
the ride here where all that slobber was going. How much will it cost to have
that cleaned off?"

"Eh ... it is of no account."

"You sure?" Due to the pileup of conference-goers and
tourists arriving before us, Rene had pulled in about sixty feet down the long
reception area. We walked around the back of the taxi to the sidewalk, Rene
pausing long enough to grab my suitcase from the trunk. I headed for the hotel
lobby, stopping when I saw that sitting smackdab in front of the hotel was a
long black limousine. "Crap!"

Rene looked over to where Jim was circling a laurel bush.
"No, he is just making much peepee."

"No, not Jim. That." I pointed to the limo. "It would just be
my luck that Drake and his bit o' hussy chose this hotel to stay at. I wonder if
I can get a room anywhere else?"

"Are you so afraid of the dragon, then?" Rene asked, his head
tipped to the side as he considered me. I smoothed down my T-shirt with a
self-conscious gesture.

"'Afraid? No. Terrified is more like it—terrified that he's
going to seduce me again and I won't have the willpower to refuse. How much do I
owe you? Dog slobber cleanup included?"

Thirteen euros. I will help you with your luggage."

Suspicious, I glanced at Rene's face, but there was nothing
but polite interest displayed. "You've never offered to carry my bag before. You
just want to see if Drake's hanging around the lobby, don't you? You want to see
if I'm going to make a fool of myself over him again, don't you? It's not bad
enough that my underwear attacked the man in front of half of Budapest. Oh, no.
Now you're secretly hoping for an encore. You ought to be ashamed of yourself,
Rene! You're as bad as Jim!"

He grinned and took my arm, gently pushing me down the
sidewalk toward the hotel's entrance. "I do not understand what you say about
your underwear attacking Drake, but I will admit that to me it is most curious
that and he fight your mutual attraction. Despite this, I have no wish to see
you make a fool of yourself."

Mollified, I allowed him to escort me to ihe entrance,
pausing long enough for Jim to catch up to us.

"Behave," I warned it, grabbing its leash and giving it a
look to let it know I meant business. "And yes, that's an order."

The demon rolled its eyes. "The hotel is full of denizens of
the Otherworld and you're worried about something as mundane as a demon?"

"Shh! You know as well as I do that citizens of the
Otherworld do not like to stand out and be noticeable. Besides, there are other
people staying here. Sane ones who don't need a Demon lord course. You will
remember at all times that this is a nice, normal hotel, with nice, normal'—

A woman with a long blond braid wheeled a crate past us
stamped LIVE IMPS: HANDLE WITH CAUTION.

—"people," I sighed.

Rene snickered.

The lobby of the Thermal Hotel Danu was done in shades of
peach, rust, and cream, a combination that sounds ghastly but that was pulled
off here with an elegance that left me wishing I had changed into something a
bit more sophisticated before we entered. Rene whistled in admiration as he
followed us. I started across the huge lobby, admiring the ambiance and praying
that Jim behaved itself when we were in public. We had gotten off to a bad
start, but with luck nothing else embarrassing would strike me in public.

A short blond man with a fuzzy upper lip strolled by as I was
passing a clutch of peach-colored chairs grouped in a conversation nook, pausing
just long enough to send me a bland look before he continued past. "You will
trip and fall."

"Huh?" I asked, peering backward at the man as he headed out
the front door. "Rene, did you hear that man? He said I would—"

Jim stopped suddenly in front of me. I tripped. I fell. With
a loud squawk that seemed to echo to every corner of the elegant lobby.

"My back! My liver! My spleen! You've killed me!" Jim wailed
from where it lay beneath me.

"You're a demon. You can't be killed. And shut up! Someone
will hear you," I hissed, mortified to the tips of my toes as I tried to gather
my sprawled limbs. People all over the lobby stopped chatting, mingling, sipping
cool drinks, checking in, and doing all the various other things people did in
fancy hotel lobbies, and turned en masse to look at where Jim and I lay in a
tangled heap.

A hand came into view, offering assistance. I grabbed it,
allowing Rene to help me to my feet.

As I stood, I realized the hand didn't belong to Rene.

Jim looked up at the hand. "Drake, would you tell my demon
lord that while it's true I can't be killed, this extremely handsome form can be
damaged, and she's probably broken every rib in my body? Man, someone needs to
drop a few pounds, and I can tell you one thing—it ain't me!"

I gritted my teeth both at the sight of Drake's amused green
eyes and at Jim's demon lord reference. I hated when it called me that.
Technically the title was true, because Jim had been cast out of its previous
lord's legions when I summoned it (thus binding the demon to me until F could
figure out how to release it), but I resented being called a demon lord.
Everyone knew demon lords were pure evil.

Whereas I was merely clumsy. Or cursed. Or probably both.

"Mate, your demon wishes me to inform you—"

I raised my hand to stop Drake. "Point one, I'm not your
mate. Point two ... er ... OK, there is no point two. So, thank you for helping
me up, oh stranger who parades around with gorgeous women who evidently shop at
the Madonna Pointy Breast Bustier Boutique. Now you may be on your merry little
way and leave us mortals to go about our lives without the addition of an
annoying, fire-breathing lizard in a human suit."

Drake leaned forward, his eyes going dark with emotion. "You
have never seen me breathe fire, mate. You might enjoy it."

Heat swept through me at his words, a familiar heat that
flared into the inferno that was his dragon's fire. I fought it for a few
seconds, knowing that if I didn't accept it, it would consume me where I stood,
leaving nothing but a few charred ashes to mark what I had been. Smoke began to
rise from my hair as Drake's fire flashed through me, setting every cell in my
body alight. My mind screamed a warning that I was seconds away from total
combustion and death, Drake's glittering eyes holding mine as I fought his heat,
fought the connection we had, fought the fact that despite my wishes to the
contrary I was one of the rare people who were able to withstand the test of a
true wyvern's mate. With a grow of futility against the inevitable, I opened
the door in my mind that allowed me access to newly discovered powers, embracing
the dragon flame as it consumed and renewed me, a fiery rebirth that I reveled
in for a few seconds before turning it back on Drake.

I wanted to say something witty and caustic to prove to Drake
that nothing he did or said mattered to me, but all I did was pant a little at
the effect of channeling so much of his heat. Triumph glowed in his eyes for a
moment before he banked his fire. Without another word to me, he turned and
strolled back to where the VIP and her gang of three were waiting impatiently.

"I am so over my head with him," I moaned softly to myself,
unable to keep from watching Drake's derriere as he walked away. Say what you
will about dragons (and I had a number of things I wanted to say), they really
knew how to move when they chose to appear in human form.

"Yes, yes, you are. Don't you think she is, Rene?"

"Very much, yes. He looks at her, she looks at him, and foof!
Sparks, they fly. Look, her hair is still on fire."

I stopped ogling Drake and slapped a few errant curls that
were smoldering with the aftereffects of my run-in with dragon boy. "All right,
enough of the wiseass comments. The show's over. It was just a little fire
exchange, nothing more. Nothing to get excited over. Now perhaps I can get on
with things. Important things. Like life without you-know-who."

Pal and Istvan, two redheaded men who were part of Drake's
sept (and served as his bodyguards), stood watching impassively as Drake
returned to the Asian woman's side. Pal lifted his hand toward me in friendly
greeting. Istvin glowered, first at me, then at Jim.