Light My Fire Page 3

  “I think you’re in love with him, yes. And despite the differences you have, I believe you are meant to be together. Further, I believe that you know this but are too stubborn to admit it to yourself.”

  There’s nothing like a bit of plain speaking to knock the wind from your sails.

  “But…but…”

  She shook her head, picking up the paper to glance at it. “I was going to address the issue with you in a few days, when we begin your training proper. A Guardian’s strength comes from within, Aisling. To deceive yourself is to weaken your power.”

  “He betrayed me,” I said, wanting to scream the words. “He broke my heart!”

  “He betrayed your trust, yes. But you betrayed an oath to him. You both have to learn how to make compromises in order to happil—what on earth?”

  The fury in her voice yanked me from the dark musings about my life. “Oh! I’m so sorry! That’s what I was going to tell you, but then Drake came in and distracted me. A man named Mark Sullivan was waiting when Rene dropped us off at the door. He said he’s with the committee, and he’s slapping a restraining order or something on you that says you can’t teach me because there’s an investigation going on.”

  Nora nodded, her lips moving slightly as she read the letter.

  “Rene?” she asked, looking up, a finger marking a spot on the letter. “You saw Rene?”

  “Story for another day. Does the letter say what this is all about?”

  She went back to reading, her face impassive. I hadn’t known Nora long—it had been about a month since we’d met in Budapest—so I wasn’t too good at reading her body language. There was no way to mistake the anger in her ebony eyes, however. They positively flashed black sparks as she crumpled the letter up and threw it on the ground for Paco to bat around.

  I waited impatiently for her to say something. When she did, my eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “The fools. The bloody ignorant fools. I’ve half a mind to curse the lot of them.”

  “I know how you feel. I was shocked when Mark said you were not going to be allowed to teach me. Why are they doing this?” I gave her arm a friendly pat as she looked blindly at her hands.

  “It’s Marvabelle, of course,” she answered.

  “Marvabelle? O’Hallahan?” I asked, even more surprised by the name she’d mentioned. “The Marvabelle who was in Budapest? The one with the wimpy oracle husband? The one who used to be your roomie when you were studying to be a Guardian? That Marvabelle?”

  “One and the same.” Nora jumped from the couch, striding across the living room with her chin high. She turned and paced back. “She’s had it in for me ever since we were recognized for stopping the Guardian killings. She warned me then she would not stand around watching me have glory she felt she deserved.”

  “She deserved! She did nothing to catch the murderer!” I got to my feet and stomped around in sympathetic indignation, keeping a tight rein on my anger lest it manifest itself again in dragon fire. “We did all the work! We figured it all out. All she did was get in the way.”

  Nora stopped pacing in order to grab my sleeve as I stomped by her. “To be honest, you did all the work, and you figured it out. But I thank you for your outrage on my behalf.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said, waving away her thanks. “What does matter is that Marvabelle thinks she can mess with you. Us. I didn’t know she had this sort of clout with the committee.”

  “Neither did I.” Nora picked up a stuffed toy and managed to exchange it for the letter Paco was gnawing on. She smoothed it out and read it again. I peeked over her shoulder, my eyes narrowing at the officious language mentioning a complaint against Nora and the investigation that would hitherto follow.

  “In concordance with the precepts of the code of the Guardians’ Guild, you are hereby ordered to cease and desist with any form of Guardian training until otherwise notified, pending the outcome of this investigation,” I read aloud. “Oh, that is such bull!”

  Nora nodded, folding the crumply letter and setting it in a basket that held her correspondence. “I agree. But don’t let it upset you. I have nothing to hide, and I have committed no violations of the Guardian’s code. This is just a minor setback, and not worthy of our concern.”

  “Not worthy? It’s utter crap, and I for one don’t intend to sit around while…” I stopped at the determined look in her eyes. This was her profession, her life that we were discussing. Just because I wanted to punch the committee in the nose for believing Nora could do anything unethical didn’t mean I could act on those desires. “OK. Just a minor setback. Gotcha.”

  “We will begin your training tomorrow, as planned,” Nora said firmly as she deposited Paco’s carrier in a closet. “Hopefully it will have the side benefit of helping you control Drake’s fire.”

  “Er…I don’t mean to question you, but didn’t that letter say—”

  “I do not intend to allow one spiteful woman to waste any more of our time than she has,” Nora answered. She pulled a book out of the floor-to-ceiling bookcase that lined one wall and held it out for me. “Although it grieves me to do anything against the committee’s dictates, in this I know they are wrong. We will proceed as planned.” She paused in the doorway to the kitchen. “Unless you have had a change of heart?”

  I laughed so hard tears wet my eyelashes. “Nora, I’ve broken just about every rule there is. I don’t know why you’d think I’d balk at breaking another one.”

  She smiled, warmth glowing from behind her glasses. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I’ll make an appointment with Mark to discuss the issue. Now, as for your problems with Drake—why don’t we have a nice cup of tea and talk it over?”

  Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Jim’s (and Nora’s) words had hit me hard. I raised my chin and shook my head. “No, I’m through obsessing and monopolizing the conversation and whatever else I’ve been doing over that annoying man. I’m just going to have to work things out on my own. Er…would it help if I talked to the Guardian people, too?”

  “It certainly couldn’t hurt. Don’t worry about that now—I’m sure we’ll get everything straightened out once I can sit down and talk to them. And as for you…Aisling, I didn’t mean you couldn’t talk to me about your troubles,” Nora said, opening the shutters that closed off a small bar from the kitchen area. “I will always be here to listen to you, if you need a friendly ear.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” I gathered up my things and the book she’d handed me and glanced at the clock. “I’ll let you know if I need a shoulder to sob on. Right now I have an outfit to pick out for tomorrow’s dragon conference, a book of demonic class types to memorize, and a demon to appease. If I leave now, I think there’s time for me to zip over to Paris and make it back by midnight. I’ll bone up on the texts you gave me once I get back.”

  She looked skeptical as I rushed into my room, grabbed my purse and passport, and ordered Jim to follow me. “Aisling, you’d really go all the way to Paris and back in twelve hours just to make your demon happy?”

  “Paris?” Jim asked, shuffling its way out to the living room. At the word its ears pricked up, its eyes lit, and it suddenly looked a good ten years younger, not to mention five pounds lighter. “Did I hear that right? We’re going to Paris? Right now?”

  “Yes, I would,” I answered Nora first. “Jim and you are both right—I have been obsessing and moody. I owe it a trip. By my voice, by my blood, by my hand, demon, I banish thee to Akasha.”

  Before Jim could do more than open its eyes wide with delight and surprise, it disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

  “Man, that’s a handy little spell,” I said as I ran for the door, waving at Nora as I went. “See you later—I’ll be back by midnight. Don’t let the committee get you down. It can’t be anything serious or we’d know, right?”

  Honestly, there are times when I think I should be teaching a class called Famous Exit Lines You’ll Later Regret.

  3
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  Thanks to the swift efficiency of the Eurostar high-speed train running under the English Channel, three and a half hours after I had raced out of Nora’s London apartment, I was standing on the street staring down a dark alley named rue des Furoncles sur les Fesses du Diable (aka Boils on the Buttocks of the Devil Street), a familiar view since that particular narrow alley was home to Le Grimoire Toxique, the cute little shop that catered to the wiccan and witch crowd in Paris. This area of town was heavily given over to occult-type shops, most of which were harmless places where non-Otherworldians came to buy incense and love spells. The shops given over to supplies used by those who knew what they were doing were hidden away on similar dark, out-of-the-way streets like the one where Amelie Merllain lived.

  The tiny bells over the door to the Grimoire Toxique tinkled cheerily as I pushed open the door, a similarly cheery smile on my face. Two elderly ladies stood next to a bookshelf as a third woman, middle aged, with a slight amount of gray mixed into her short black hair, stood on a stepladder and fetched bottles from a top shelf.

  “Bonjour, Amelie,” I said in my best French (which admittedly was atrocious). I sneaked a peek at the slip of paper upon which I’d written a greeting gleaned from my seatmate during the trip to Paris. “Um. Tu es que l’ombre de toi-même! Quoi de neuf?”

  Amelie’s figure froze for a second. “I believe I am more than a shadow of myself, but not much is new here in Paris. Could it be that someone from out of town is asking?” She turned around with a warm smile. “Aisling, I knew it must be you. You have a way of speaking French that is truly…impressive.”

  I laughed and hugged her when she hurried down the stepladder, her hands full of jars that she set down on the counter. Speaking in quick French, she gestured toward me as she bustled around behind the long counter that served as her sales desk. The two ladies looked at me with pursed lips.

  “Bonjour,” I told them. They murmured what I assumed were polite replies. “Sheesh, Amelie, it’s been forever since I last saw you!”

  “You exaggerate. It has been under two months, I think. I will be with you in just one of the brief moments.” Amelie doled out a pink powder, some dried herbs, and a handful of rose hips. “I told my ladies here that you are a friend from America, and are a powerful, much-respected Guardian.”

  The ladies looked anything but awestruck. “Then you are guilty of exaggerating as well.” I hooked my foot under the rail on a tall wooden stool at the end of the counter, and plopped myself down on it. “Regardless of the time passed, I’m pleased to see you again.”

  “And I you,” she said as she made up a neat paper package of all the herbs, giving them to the two ladies with a few hurried comments. “But where is Jim? Cecile will be deranged if she is not to see him.”

  “Oh, Jim!” I leaped off the stool, a little zinger of guilt lashing me. “I forgot all about it. I put it in the Akasha.”

  “The Akasha?” There was a little stereo gasp as Amelie spoke. The two ladies looked horrified and backed up a few steps.

  “Yeah. The Akashic plain, actually. You know—the place everyone calls limbo? Where demons who don’t eat their vegetables go?”

  Amelie just looked at me. The two ladies stood clutching their packages, eyeing me warily as if they were afraid to go past me to the door.

  “You are joking at me, yes?” Amelie asked.

  “Um. About the veggies, yeah. I put Jim in the Akashic plain because of England’s quarantine laws for animals. It’s an easy way to get in and out of the country without having to worry about documents for Jim.”

  “But, Aisling…” Amelie looked taken aback for a moment or two. “The Akasha is steeped in dark powers. I know of many experienced members of the L’au-delà who will have nothing to do with it because it poses such a danger to them. Only the most protected of people access it. Who taught you to do so?”

  “A…er…friend. He just taught me how to send and summon Jim from there; that’s all.”

  “Still, you must be very powerful indeed if you are able to utilize it without it tainting you.”

  I stopped cold, wondering why I was always the last to hear things. The limbo I’d been parking Jim in was steeped in dark powers? Why hadn’t Gabriel mentioned that when he gave me instructions on accessing it? How would I know if I’d been tainted? Why didn’t Nora warn me about it when I told her that’s where I was sending Jim? And why did I always end up in hot water doing something simple? “Uh…yeah, something like that. Why don’t I just summon Jim and we’ll move on?” I took a deep breath and swung open the door in my mind that was the portal to all my Otherworld powers. “Effrijim, I summon thee.”

  The air in front of me gathered together in a tight clutch, the motes of dust dancing on the afternoon sunlight cohering into a shape that quickly formed itself into that of a large, shaggy, black dog.

  “Hounds of Abaddon, Aisling! Could you have left me dangling in limbo for any longer?” Jim glared at me for a moment; then its eyes opened wide when it realized where we were. “Amelie?”

  The two ladies gave up all pretence and ran from the shop screeching something that I gathered wasn’t a compliment on the form my demon had picked out above all others to wear in the mortal world.

  “Where’s Cecile?” Jim asked hurriedly, spinning around to examine the shop, its nose in the air as it tried to scent her. “Cecile? Baby? Daddy’s home!”

  “Cecile is having her rest upstairs—” was all Amelie got out before Jim went bounding from the room, heading for the back door and the flight of stairs that led to the apartment over the shop.

  “The door is locked, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yes, but there is a window open,” Amelie started to say, but the distant sound of tinkling glass interrupted her.

  I sighed. “I’ll pay for that, of course. I’d better go see if Jim managed to cut itself in its frenzy to get to Cecile.”

  “I believe I will take the early afternoon leave,” Amelie said, going to the door to hang a CLOSED sign on it before locking up.

  “Oh, but I hate to make you miss any customers.” I hesitated by the beaded curtain that divided the front of the shop from the tiny back storage area.

  “Non, it is an unexpected pleasure, your visit. One worth celebrating, yes? We will celebrate.”

  The celebrations took the form of a bottle of chilled white wine (Amelie remembered my favorite brand) and a plate of delicious cheese munchies. I sat back in the bloodred neo-baroque armchair and sighed happily. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again. So much has happened in the last couple of months, I feel like a different person from the one who wandered in your door looking for information about a certain wyvern.”

  “Ah, yes. How is Drake? I heard that you were formally mated, and that you found a mentor, yes? This is very good news.”

  Jim looked up from where it was lying in a patch of sunlight with Cecile, Amelie’s elderly, fat Welsh corgi. “News flash: Aisling broke it off.”

  “Again?” Amelie asked, giving me a surprised look.

  “Yes, again.” That word was beginning to grate on my nerves. “It’s not like I didn’t have a reason to leave him! He betrayed my trust.”

  “Hello, and welcome to Aisling Heartbreak Hour,” Jim said, nuzzling Cecile’s ear. “I hope you’re comfortable, because this is likely to take a while.”

  “One more word, and you’re going to find yourself back in the Akashic plain, tainted powers or no,” I snapped, my patience worn thin by Jim’s needling…and my own guilty feelings. Although Nora had been the first person to put it into so many words, I realized that I’d been hiding the truth from myself behind hurt feelings. “This is not going to take a while. Drake and I had issues. I left to think things over. I’m still his mate, I’m still bound to the sept, and tomorrow, as a matter of fact, I’m going to another dragon conference to stand by Drake while he does whatever he does at these gatherings.”

  “Gatherings?”

  “Ye
s. Some sort of dragon shindig. Possibly involving wyverns, although I hope the more idiotic ones don’t show.”

  Amelie sucked in her breath. “Idiotic? You speak so of the other wyverns? You dare much, Aisling. Do you know them well?”

  “Not horribly well.” I took another sip of wine, enjoying the fruity Riesling. “Fiat Blu I met here in Paris at the same time I met you. I met some of his men, as well. Did you know the blue dragons are psychics?”

  She nodded. “Oui, I remember. And yes, they are known for their ability to find secrets.”

  “Yeah, well, Fiat is lovely eye candy, what with that whole blond god thing going for him, but underneath that handsome exterior beats the heart of a rat. He’s trying to stir up trouble for Drake.”

  “Ah?”

  “Fiat paired up with Chuan Ren. Have you ever seen her?”

  Amelie poured more wine and shook her head. “No. I do not mix much with the upper echelons of the L’au-delà. I am happier in my own sphere of influence.”

  “Boy, do I envy you that. Well, the red dragon wyvern, Chuan Ren, is a…um…trying to find a nice word for her…”

  “Bitch,” Jim said, licking Cecile’s ear.

  I made a wry little smile. “Basically, yes. She’s very powerful, very aggressive, and I don’t think she likes Drake very much. I know she doesn’t like me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “The fourth wyvern, Gabriel Tauhou, is a sweetie. He’s a healer, like you.”

  Amelie smiled and nibbled on a cheese stick.

  “Aisling has a crush on him.” Jim’s voice floated to us above the low drone of the air conditioner.

  “Oh, I do not. I like Gabriel, nothing more. He helped me when Drake wouldn’t, and he doesn’t seem to want to stir up trouble, unlike the other two wyverns.”

  “That is very interesting,” Amelie said, looking thoughtful. “And what of the fifth sept?”

  “The what?” I frowned, setting down my wineglass. When I started mishearing things, it was time to switch to something a little less potent. “Fifth sept? There are only four dragon septs—red, blue, silver, and green.”