Fire Me Up Page 8

  "I did not explain the situation to you last night because you were exhausted and needed sleep, and you slipped away this morning before I could inform you of your duties, but if you insist on having the discussion in public, I will oblige you. I allowed you to leave last month because you were still confused about your new role."

  "Allowed?" I gasped, struggling to keep my voice low. A few people sitting nearby glanced over at us, but no one else seemed to notice. My throat ached with the need to yell at Drake, while my body warred with my mind over whether or not it would be a good idea to throw myself in his arms and kiss the fire right out of him. My mind won the battle, but my body had its revenge—unable to resist the temptation, I pushed back an errant lock of his dark hair from where it had fallen over his brow. "You did not allow me to do anything, you scaly-skinned lizard. We had a little fling, it didn't work out, I left. End of story. There was no allowing going on anywhere."

  "You are my mate."

  "So you say."

  A tiny little wisp of smoke curled out of his nostril, always a sign that I was pushing his notoriously short temper. "You came to me of your own accord last night."

  "Only because I was being plagued by naked men, and you're big enough and bad enough to scare them off."

  "You want me."

  That last was said in a low, sexy growl that set my whole body vibrating. I thought about denying his statement, but I knew if I did, he'd consider it a challenge and feel obliged to prove he could arouse me with just a look.

  "Yeah, I do. But you want me, too, so we're even Steven."

  "I need you."

  My mind ground to a halt at his words. I had a horrible suspicion that my mouth hung open a little, too, but I was too stunned by his admission to worry about that. "What?"

  "You are my mate and an important member of my sept. I need you. The summit cannot continue without your participation."

  "Me? What on earth do I have to do with anything dragonish?"

  "Mates bear an important part in our society. If something was to happen to me, it would be you who would control the sept. It is tradition that mates are involved in all important decisions."

  "But I don't know anything about you guys! I wouldn't know what to do at an important summit"

  "You sit next to me and answer any questions asked of you. That is all. It will not be difficult. I will conduct the actual negotiations. Your role as mate is primarily one of showing assent and support for my proposals."

  I shook my head, more to clear it than to negate what he was saying. "Drake, I appreciate the fact that you think I have a role to play with your clan, but we've talked about this. It's not going to happen."

  "If you do not help me, the dragons will war, and although our peace has been tentative, a full war is something that has not happened for seven hundred years. The last time it happened, the mortal world suffered most grievously."

  "How?" I asked, unable to keep myself from asking.

  "Plague. As a result of the last dragon war, a plague struck Europe and twenty-five million people died. Do you wish to risk such an atrocity recurring?" I stared deep into his emerald eyes to determine the slightest sign of deception or ulterior motive. His eyes were unshadowed by anything but sadness. "Lunch is at two in the atrium. Wear something green."

  The black plague. He had to be talking about the black plague, which struck Europe in the mid-fourteenth century and decimated almost half the population . . . wear something green'] Drake walked away without waiting for me to answer. I ground my teeth, biting back all the things wanted to say as I stormed into the hotel, swearing this was the very last time Drake would have the opportunity to manipulate me. Damn his finessing self, pushing me into doing his wishes by giving me a choice between two evils.

  I could bring down a plague upon the world, or I could have lunch with a few bossy dragons. When put that way, it didn't seem like such a momentous choice to make.

  I just hate it when I'm wrong about things like that...

  8

  You forgot about me!"

  "I did not. I just got a little busy."

  "You forgot me and you left me. Two strikes, Aisling."

  "I was held up, that's all."

  Jim shot me an accusatory glare as we waited outside the hotel for Rene, "You said you were waiting for your appointment with Moa. How busy can you be just hanging around the lobby?"

  "For your information, I was trying to deal with some non-Otherworld businessman staying here who wouldn't take no for an answer. He all but ripped down the door to our room when I tried to escape. I had to call security."

  Jim rolled its big eyes. "Oh, right. Like I'm going to believe that?"

  "It's true! I was accosted! Hit on! By some guy in a nice suit, and no, he wasn't old or insane—at least, he wasn't old."

  "Ha!"

  "Moa never showed up, either," I said, kicking irritably at a pebble on the pavement. "You'd think she would at least have left me a message on the message board, but no, she just left me waiting for her in the lobby, fending off randy businessmen."

  "A likely story. You forgot me, pure and simple, leaving me to the nonexistent mercies of that butch Guardian who sent me into limbo." Jim's body shook. "It was horrible, a ghastly nightmare of nothingness, just me and a couple of late-night talk show hosts floating around with nothing to do but listen to them name-drop. Don't ever do that to me again."

  "I don't know why you're complaining. They fined me a hundred euros for your containment. Do you see Rene's taxi?" I stood up from the wooden bench alongside the lobby doors and peered down the curved drive that ended at the front of the hotel. It was the only place cars were allowed on the whole of Margaret Island, and thus far Rene was ten minutes late.

  "No. But fruit girl is at six o'clock and coming on strong."

  I turned to smile at Tiffany as she greeted us. "Hello, Aisling and Jim. That is a very pretty dress, Aisling. I had one just like it when I was going through my Romany stage, although I quickly outgrew it when I realized that all those ruffles and flounces made my hips look positively huge. Why is Jim wearing a towel around his neck?"

  I smoothed my hands down my lightweight gauze ruffly, beflounced broomstick skirt, wondering if Tiffany was being catty or if my hips did, in fact, look so massive she had to give me a gentle pointer. One glance at her white denim miniskirt and matching halter top left me be-beving the latter. She didn't look catty—she looked fashionable. "Jim managed to leave the last of its drool cloths in limbo, so now it has to wear a towel. Do you think if I belted this blouse instead of tucking it into the skirt it would be more flattering in the hip region?"

  "Warning, warning! Do not mention her butt! Whatever you do, do not mention her butt!"

  Both Tiffany and I ignored Jim, Her head tipped to the side, her long blond ponytail swinging gently behind her. "It might help a little bit. What are you doing here?"

  I yanked the sleeveless gauze blouse out of my skirt and used the silk scarf that I'd been wearing to confine my hair as a belt instead. "We're waiting on a friend who drives a taxi. We're going into the city because I have to deliver something to someone,"

  "Oooh, a drive! I love to go for drives. I love to see people, and share smiles, and feel the warm glowing goodness that always follows me."

  She waited, expectant.

  My lips curved into a bit of a forced smile. I didn't want to be downright rude to Tiffany, but I really didn't relish the thought of being confined with her chirpy brand of self-centered altruism, either. "Er... we'd love to have you come with us, Tiffany, but the truth is, I don't know where to find the person I'm looking for, so the trip is bound to take at least a few hours. I'm sure you'd be bored, not to mention you'd miss the lunch banquet and some of the afternoon's workshops."

  She clapped her hands together happily. liA long ride! That is even better, because then there are so many more people to see and share smiles and happiness with! We will be like butterflies flitting from person to pe
rson, bringing joy wherever we go. Thank you for the kind invitation to join you, Aisling. I do not mind in the least missing either lunch or a few workshops, and I do not have any appointments until the moon comes up later tonight."

  "Uh—"

  A car had pulled up while we were speaking, disgorging a couple of occupants, the driver coming around to pull luggage from the rear of the car while the man and woman went into the hotel. The driver, a handsome man with a brown goatee, turned to walk past us. Instead, the bags fell from his hands as he flung himself at me, wrapping his arms around my legs and saying something in fervent Hungarian into my pelvis.

  "What the—hey! Get off me!" I tried to step backwards out of the man's embrace, but he just clung tighter lo me, speaking in between the kisses he was pressing into my stomach.

  "How very curious," Tiffany said, eyeing the man doubtfully. She pulled a mirror from her purse and checked herself. "Most unexplained. This man, he says he wishes to have many sex acts with you."

  I grabbed the man's ears and tried to push him off me. He just made kissy lips at me, his arms locked around the back of my legs. "Well, he's not getting any! You! Go away! No sex! Bad man! Leave me alone or I'll deck you! Crap, he doesn't seem to understand. Tiffany, you must speak Hungarian if you understood what he said?"

  "Yes, my mother was from a small town near the Romanian border," she said, still primping as she frowned slightly into the mirror, "It does not make sense at all. Here am I, all sunshine and beauty and glorious Summer Eyes, and yet the man, he kisses her belly and not mine. My belly is very smooth and nice."

  "Look, this isn't a—hey, hey, hey! No squeezing cheek, buster! This isn't a contest, Tiffany. Nor do I want this man's attentions. Would you please tell him to go away and leave me alone?"

  She rattled off something to the man. He answered her as he shook his head, releasing one arm around my legs in order to grab my wrist and begin placing wet, smacking kisses along my hand.

  Tiffany shrugged. "He says he will give you many fine babies. He says he will spend every waking moment making many sex acts with you. It is obvious to me that he is without his brains. I am a virgin. I have much charm and attractiveness, and my smile is very happy. It is impossible that he should desire you over me unless he is without his brains."

  "No babies," [ shrieked, pulling ruthlessly on his hair. "No sex acts! Jim, dammit, help me!"

  "What do you want me to do, bite him?" Jim asked, sitting next to the bench, watching the scene with amusement glittering in its eyes.

  "Yes, thank you, if it wouldn't be too much trouble," I snarled, pounding the man's head with my free arm.

  Rene pulled up on the other side of the lust-crazed madman's car, his lips pursing in a silent whistle when he saw us.

  "Right, that's it. No more miss nice guy." I brought the knee of my free leg up into the crazy man's jaw, his head snapping back with an audible grunt of pain. He fell backwards when I lunged sideways, but he didn't completely release me, one hand grabbing frantically for my ankle. I threw myself toward the taxi, trying desperately to shake him off. Tiffany had already entered the car, with

  Jim right behind her. Rene leaned out the window as I staggered toward the taxi, the mad driver doing a commando crawl after me, refusing to release my ankle.

  "You are having some difficulty, yes?" Rene asked.

  "Difficulty? I don't know what you mean," I answered, whirling around to stomp my sandal down hard on the man's wrist. He screeched and let go of my ankle, sobbing into the pavement as I jumped into the taxi. "Nothing out of the ordinary as far as my life goes. Drive, please, Rene, before he stops crying about his hand."

  Rene cocked his head for a moment as he listened to the man blubber, then shifted gears and pulled out. "He was sobbing most harshly about your rejection of him, Aisling, not because you stepped on his arm. Who is he?"

  I tightened the strap on my ankle that the madman had loosened. "I have no idea. He jumped me for no reason. I've never met him before. As far as I know, he's just a taxi driver."

  "One without his brains," Tiffany added, putting away her mirror and gifting Rene with a dazzling smile. "I am Tiffany. I am a professional virgin. If you were to choose between kissing Aisling's belly and mine, you would choose mine, would you not? My belly is very smooth and white."

  Rene's glance flickered from Tiffany to me in the mirror. "A professional virgin?"

  Her smile brightened until it almost blinded me. "Yes. I am very happy to meet you and bring you the joy of my beauty. You are friend to Aisiing and Jim the demon?"

  "Rene is a very good friend," I answered, since Rene seemed to be a bit stunned by Tiffany's statement regarding her occupation. I should have known better, though.

  Anyone who took Jim's existence in stride after only a few moments was not a man who balked at meeting a professional virgin.

  "I believe that if I were to make a choice, I would have to choose Aisling's belly to kiss, but that is only because she is my bon ami, heinl If she was not, then I would choose your belly above all others."

  Tiffany seemed to accept that, sitting back against the seat, looking around with pleasure. Jim sat with its head hanging out the window, as usual. "Where is it we are going to on this long and pleasant drive?"

  I met Rene's gaze in the mirror and mentally shrugged. It looked like I was saddled with a virgin while I hermit-hunted. 'Tin going to a shop on the Andrassy lit. It's the last address my uncle had for the hermit. Supposedly, he picks up his mail there, but Uncle Damian's last letter two weeks ago warning of my arrival went unanswered."

  "A hermit? You seek a hermit?" Tiffany smiled brightly as I nodded. "This is excellent! Virgins, as you know, are most helpful when it comes to hermits."

  ''Really?" I said, unable to keep from asking. "I thought it was unicorns that couldn't resist a virgin."

  "Unicorns, hermits, sprites—both water and forest— and werefolk of all forms. You will find that employing a professional virgin will increase your Guardian productivity many times. It will give you quite the cachet amongst other Guardians, as well."

  "Employ? No, I—"

  "My rates are quite reasonable," Tiffany continued, just as if I hadn't spoken. "I have many good testimonies and, of course, my portfolio, which has splendid pictures

  of me in many happy poses. You will be most pleased with my excellent services."

  "But I don't have a budget for a virgin," I protested, my mind squirreling desperately for a way to extract myself from her clutches. "I couldn't possibly afford your services, as wonderful as I'm sure they are."

  "Perhaps your uncle will allow you one if you explain to him the situation," Rene offered as we drove through the city toward a popular street in the center.

  I groaned. "Not you, too, Rene."

  He smiled at me in the mirror. "It seems to me that you cannot have too much help, heinV

  "That's a matter of opinion—"

  Jim pulled in its head long enough to shoot me a weary look. "Give it up, Ash. You need help, and Tiffany here is offering it. You'd be a fool to turn her down because you're a tightwad."

  "I am not a tight—"

  "Jim speaks correctly," Rene interrupted with a nod. "You need help. Me, I am the driver tres bon, tr&3 extraordinaire, but I am not knowing Budapest as well as Paris. So if this young lady of the smooth white belly offers to help you find the lost hermit, you should not spurn up your nose at her."

  "Turn your nose up," I corrected him, giving in with a little reluctance and a whole lot of misgivings. I knew when I was bested, and to be honest, both Jim and Rene had a point. I didn't know the city at all, and if Tiffany really did have some sort of hermit-attracting powers, she could come in handy. "All right, you can help, but I can't ray you more than a hundred and fifty bucks. That was supposed to be my mad money, but I guess nothing defines mad quite so much as buying a professional virgin."

  "It is acceptable," Tiffany said, doing her little happy hand-clapping thing. "Now, let us
plan how to find this hermit. He will be in the nearby forests, yes? A cave, perhaps? There are many caves in Hungary, many around the city."

  "I don't know exactly where he is," I answered. "My uncle seemed to think he'd be camping out in a forest or something like that, but who knows with hermits? Uncle Damian said this guy was a bit flighty, not wanting to give his real name or any identifying information. And he paid in gold. Not gold ingots or anything like that—he paid in gold coins stamped with some strange symbols. I didn't have time to look them up, but they seemed very strange, not at all like the sorts of things I've seen in theurgical books."

  "Do not worry. We will find this hermit," Rene said, gaily blowing his horn and flipping off a discourteous driver. "It is a challenge, and we are par excellence when it comes to challenges, are we not?"

  I thought of the last challenge I'd issued—to Drake, of all people—and its subsequent outcome. Although I had intended for him to beat me, I had hoped that he'd recognize my generous act in saving face for him and eliminate the punishment I was due by his sept, but he hadn't. Back home in Oregon the fact that his entire clan had a say in how I was to be punished for failing the challenge hadn't worried me, but it was another matter now that I was here, about to be mixed up in dragon politics.

  As much as my frugal nature resented being put in a position where I had to hire Tiffany, I admitted two hours later that she had been a very useful translator. I had planned on pressing Rene into that position, since my skills with the language were obviously faulty, but it turned out that he was needed to keep Jim in line while Tiffany and I went on a wild-goose chase that led us from the Pest side (west of the Danube) to the Buda side of the city, finally ending in a tiny, dusty antique shop.

  "Well, that was an utter waste of two hours," I said as we emerged from the dark shop. I wiped a few cobwebs off my arm where it had brushed against a faded, battered trunk. "We're no better off than when we started."