Fire Me Up (39 page)

"No," he snapped, his eyes brittle with heat. "You do not
understand. I have allowed you to pursue your interests because they did not
interfere with mine, but that is at an end. You are my mate. My sept is your
first priority. All else is secondary."

My jaw dropped for a second, then snapped shut with an
audible clink of my teeth. I shoved Drake back from where he'd leaned over to
snarl at me, my anger thoroughly roused. "Secondary? My career is secondary?"

"Your career is being my mate."

"Wrong!" I yelled, flinging off the possessive hand he
wrapped around my wrist. "My career is being a Guardian. You agreed to that when
I accepted the fact that I was your mate."

"I never agreed to such a ridiculous thing," he yelled back
at me. I was a little shocked—Drake never yelled— but I didn't have the time to
mull over what that meant.

"You did, too! That night in my dream, the night we spoke the
oath—I agreed to be your mate, and you agreed to me being a Guardian."

His eyes were so bright it almost hurt to look at them, but
his voice dropped, to. a low, angry tone. "You asked that I, and I quote, 'make
no more snarky comments' about you being a Guardian. Further, you asked that I
not say or do anything to ruin your chance with a potential mentor. I promised
never to say anything to a mentor that could be interpreted as being against
your plans. That is all you asked of me, Aisling. And I have fulfilled those
terms wholly and completely."

I stared at him, too stunned, too filled with pain to
comprehend what he was saying. "We swore an oath to each other," I whispered at
last.

"Yes." His face was as hard as the edge to his voice. "You
swore to uphold the well-being of the sept. I swore to protect, honor, and
respect you."

He was a stranger. That wasn't Drake sitting there speaking
in that cold voice. It had to be a stranger. Those were the thoughts that went
around and around in my head with sickening regularity. "You knew how much I
wanted this. You knew how important it was to me. You knew I was committed to
being a Guardian. You agreed not to stop me."

"I agreed not to say anything to a potential mentor. I
haven't. By no stretch of the imagination does that mean I endorse you being a
Guardian. I never have, nor have I made secret my feelings."

I thought back to that night, to that dream, when I was so
happy because Drake said he was willing to negotiate with me. The conversation
we had repeated in my head, and again I heard his voice agreeing to something
less than what I had intended.

He had betrayed me. He had fooled me into thinking he was
agreeing to my terms, when all along he was using me for his own purpose.

A little voice in my head pointed out that if I had been less
lust-crazed, I might have noticed the difference in what I was saying and what
he said. I acknowledged that as true. I acknowledged my own responsibility with
the situation. I had sworn an oath to Drake and his sept.

But he had betrayed me.

My eyes sought his. They were cold, like green ice, and
within them I could see the depth of his determination, his resolve, and his
intent. He was fighting for the life of his clan, fighting against almost
impossible odds to form a peace not for his own good, not for selfish reasons,
but for the good of all people, dragon-born and mortal. I understood what he was
doing. I understood why he did what he did.

But he had betrayed me, and I could not forgive that.

I closed my eyes on the tears that welled out from between my
lashes and pulled hard on his fire, allowing it to fill me, consume me, burn
every last tear inside me until it burst forth with a roar of anguish that
filled the night sky— and that set fire to the limousine.

Istvan slammed to a stop in the middle of a street, Pal
already dragging Jim from the car. Drake swore and kicked open the door,
yelling, "You foolish woman! You'll set the gas tank alight! This close to other
cars you'll kill who knows how many people!"

I didn't wait for him to drag me out. I threw myself out the
other side of the car, yelling an order to Jim as I ran along the median,
dashing between cars, bouncing off a sedan to fall onto the pavement on the
other side of the road, tears streaming down my face as I ignored the sound of
Drake shouting after me. I knew him. He might be a thief, he might be a liar, he
might be the sort of man who would betray the woman who loved him if he felt the
reason was good enough, but he would not willingly walk away and allow innocent
people to die.

"Fires of Abaddon, Aisling!" Jim panted as it reached my
side. It took one look at my face and shut up, following me as I ran down
streets, cutting through markets, dashing in front of cars, racing around
corners until I had no idea where I was or where I'd come from.

At least I had lost Drake.

My heart, frozen in a block of disbelief, shattered at the
realization that I had, indeed, lost Drake. I fell to my knees right there in
the middle of the street, sobbing with the realization of what had happened. I
had given Drake everything, I had sworn my allegiance to him, I had agreed to
become his mate, I had fallen in love with the damned scaly lizard, and he
betrayed me.

Tires squealed on asphalt as a car slammed to a stop a few
inches away from me, the driver's swearing audible even over the hum of the
engine.

"Ash?"

Jim's voice was unusually gentle.

"Ash, come on. You're in the street. I know you don't care
about getting run over, but you're immortal now, and if one of these cars hits
you and you crumple the bumper, you're going to have a hell of a lot of
explaining to do."

"Aisling." Another voice spoke.

What was I going to do now? How was I supposed to fix things?
Dammit, why was everything my responsibility? Why was I the only one who could
make things right? Drake had betrayed me, but wasn't I guilty of the same thing
by refusing him? It felt in my heart like betrayal, but I just couldn't see any
other way out of the situation. There was more at stake here than just Drake and
me—there was my promise to find the murderer before he killed another innocent
Guardian. The dragon sept had my fealty, but how could I live with myself if the
murderer struck again because I had been so busy with the dragons that I hadn't
the time to stop him?

"Aisling Grey." I looked up at the sound of my name. Rene
stood before me in the headlights of the car, his hand extended to me. "Come
along. The street is no place for you,"

I took his hand, clinging to the warmth of it, wanting
nothing more than to throw myself into Rene's arms and beg him to take me to the
airport so I could leave. "Drake betrayed me," I said.

He nodded. "I know what he has done. It is yet another bump
in the road, hein?"

"No, Rene," I said, wiping the tears off my face with my
sleeve. "This isn't a bump. It's a dead end."

"It seems that way, yes, but in time, I think, you will see
things with the different eyes," he answered, getting into the front seat. Jim
hopped up beside me, yanking the door handle with its mouth.

Rene didn't say anything else as he drove me to Margaret
Island. I sat in silence, my thoughts so painful I couldn't stand thinking them,
so I didn't. I pushed them all aside, idly watching the play of lights on the
back of Rene's head. He was such a nice man. So unlike the people of the
Otherworld. So normal.

I glanced down to where I my hand was clutching the jade
dragon talisman. Alongside it was the crystal Venus amulet. "Why aren't you
affected by the amulet, Rene?"

His head turned a little so he could see me in the rearview
mirror.

"What?"

I looked down at the amulet again, then back to him. "Why
aren't you affected by this? Every other mortal man is. Everyone except you and
..."

My mind snapped into place, just as if it had been dislocated
and now pushed back into the proper position. One moment I was wondering why
Rene wasn't affected by the amulet, the next I saw an image of Gyorgy, the other
man who wasn't affected by it. Gyorgy the woodsman. Gyorgy the hermit, the man
who seldom left his claimed spot of land, but a man who had admitted to being at
the hotel.

Jacob's voice played through my thoughts. "When we take human
form, we are as humans."

Gyorgy looked human to me. He felt human. But he smelled like
a campfire—smoky.

I rubbed my head. No, that wasn't right. Jacob had named all
of the other eleven incubi in his order. "Twelve brothers, twelve sisters..." I
repeated, my eyes closing when I realized how stupid I'd been. "And one leader.
The morpheus. That has to be Gyorgy. Mother Mary and all the saints ... Rene!
Screw the traffic laws—get me to the hotel as soon as you can! I know who the
murderer is!"

What was probably a ten-minute drive seemed to me to take
aeons. By the time Rene pulled up in front of the hotel, I was shouting orders
to Jim. "The final dinner has already started. You can run faster than me—go to
the ballroom and find Nora or Monish. Tell them I know who the murderer is. Tell
them to watch out for Marvabelle. And Tiffany, for that matter!"

Jim was off in a black flurry. I ran after the demon, Rene
beside me as T raced down the stairs to the conference level. "You don't have to
be here!"

"I am your friend. I will stand by you. You might need me as
before, hein?"

"I will always need you, Rene." I leaped off the last step,
haring down the long hallway to the double doors at the end that marked the main
entrance to the ballroom,

I threw the door open, racing inside, praying that I wasn't
too late. Jacob had said that the morpheus was the only one who did not need to
be summoned to arrive— which meant he could attack anytime he chose. A group of
people stood in a clutch before me, blocking my path. I shoved my way through
them, scattering apologies behind me as I burst out into the center of the
floor, cleared for the evening's presentation, and came to a skidding halt.

"Eh-." Kostich was at the podium, holding a piece of paper,
reading a list of names into the microphone. He turned to look at me. I stared
back at him, then slowly turned my head and saw that all two thousand of the
Guardians, oracles, Diviners, Theurgists, and. Mages were watching me with
hushed disbelief.

I realized at that moment that my brush with Drake's fire,
subsequent race through the city, and occasional contact with vehicles as I
rebounded off them had not left me untouched. The thin gauze dress I wore was
dirty, smeared with oil and grime from the road, torn along one side where I'd
caught it on the edge of a car, and scorched black on the hem. My hands were
black with soot and dirt. My hair had come loose and was flying around in
clumps. My nose was running from crying.

Regardless, I was a professional. I had a job to do, and I
had just sacrificed any chance of happiness with Drake to do it. I straightened
my shoulders, brushed a hand down my dress, and stepped forward.

Dr. Kostich backed away from the podium. I leaned toward the
microphone. "Has anyone seen Nora Charles or Monish Lakshmanan?"

My voice echoed through the huge ballroom. There were several
gasps that I put down to using full names. I shaded my eyes against the big
spotlights that were on the podium, scanning the audience for sign of Monish or
Nora. Two thousand disbelieving, shocked, horrified pairs of eyes stared back at
me. "No one has seen Nora? Or Monish? Has anyone seen a demon in Newfie form,
answering to the name of Jim?"

You could have heard a cricket snore in the room, so silent
was it.

"Um. How about Marvabelle O'Hallohan? Is she here?"

Dr. Kostich, keeping his distance, said in a voice that jusl
about made my blood freeze, "If you are quite through with this farce, we would
be glad to continue announcing the apprentices who have been accepted by their
chosen mentors."

"Oh. Sure. Sorry." I stepped away from the podium,
relinquishing it to him. "Um ... I don't suppose my name is anywhere on that
list?"

He just stared at me.

"Right. I didn't think so. Sorry to interrupt. I'll just go
now."

I walked quickly to the back of the ballroom, worry about
Gyorgy overwhelming the mortification I felt at embarrassing myself in front of
a ballroom full of my peers. Or people I had hoped would be peers. I doubt if
they'd had any such hope. Rene was waiting for me by the door, but before I
could reach him an arm reached out to stop me.

"'Aisling, you look so very sad. Your eyes make me want to
weep. You are having troubles?"

Tiffany, at least, was safe and sound. The people at the
table hissed at us to be quiet as Dr. Kostich read out the next name on the
list, Tiffany followed me to the door, smiling beatifically at Rene. "Good
evening, Rene. Your eyes are not sad, I am happy to see."

"Have you seen Monish or Nora? Or Jim?"

"Yes, all three. Jim burst in a few minutes before you. They
all left out the side door, there." She indicated a door that led to a smaller
room of the ballroom.