Rene came forward at my gesture, holding out a dark blue canvas bag. I pulled out a round sisal and metal object, holding it up to show him, turning so the crowd could see it as well. "I, Aisling Grey, challenge you, Drake Vireo, to a game of darts' Winner takes all."
If I thought the crowd was silent before, it was positively breathless now. At least it was for a second or two; then everyone erupted into comment, most of them outraged yells of foul.
Drake stormed toward-me, his eyes an angry forest green. "What are you doing?" he asked softly when he got close enough to me. "Why are you doing this? Why do you make a mockery of me?"
I clutched the dartboard to my chest, more to keep from grabbing Drake than to protect it. "I'm not mocking you, Drake. This was the only thing I could think of."
"You issued me a challenge to meet me body to body. That is traditionally defined as combat. What you suggest is not combat—it is a game!"
I let my eyes caress him from his nose to his toes and back up again. "I'm not stupid, Drake. There's no way I want to try to fight you physically. I can't even arm-wrestle you, I've got girly arm muscles. I might be able to take you down with a few self-defense moves, but Jan, my instructor, told me never to use them except in life-threatening situations, and you can't kill me."
His hands made fists at his sides as he leaned into me, his breath feathering my face. "What you plan is ridiculous. I told you I was an expert at darts. You will lose."
"I know," I whispered back. "And I'd appreciate it if you could keep that fact in mind when your sept is dreaming up its punishment for me."
"Why are you doing this?" he asked again, his eyes losing a bit of their anger.
"It's part of my plan," I said, wanting desperately to kiss him. "Don't worry—it'll be over quickly. I have a horrible throwing arm. Is it kosher for the challenger to kiss the challengee?"
"No," he said, a startled look flickering across his face. "It is not done at all. What plan?"
"Just a plan I have. You'll find out about it as soon as this is over. Well, good luck. I mean, bonne chance." I held out my hand. He stared at it for a moment, then shook it carefully as if it were made of glass.
Everyone watched as I gave Rene the dartboard. He hung it on the wall, pulling out the cheap blue and yellow darts from the cloth bag. Istvan shot Drake a disbelieving look before reluctantly accepting the yellow darts.
"OK, so how do we do this? First one to hit center wins?"
Drake rolled his eyes, then grabbed me and hauled me up to his chest in the best arrogant, domineering wyvern manner. "You are impossible," he muttered just before his mouth descended upon mine, his tongue immediately invading, stroking the fires that burned so deep within me. Before I could do more than think about responding, he was gone. It took a moment for me to realize that the dull roar I heard wasn't just my blood pounding in my ears—everyone in the club was laughing and applauding.
"We will play the 501 game," Drake announced, ignoring the still howling crowd. He briefly explained the rules, showed me how to throw a dart, and even gave me a couple of practice shots before we started the match proper.
"Well, that didn't take long," Jim said when Drake beat me in record time. My score was still in the four hundreds when he made zero. "Almost anticlimactic, you could say. Too bad about Istvan. You think he's going to hold that wild shot against you?"
I looked over at where Istvan had a protective hand clapped over the edge of his groin. I'd missed the important parts, but just barely. He glared back at me. I grimaced. "I hope not. I also hope he doesn't get a say in the sept's punishment of me."
Pdl stepped forward and held up his hands for silence. The audience, which had been loudly and vehemently discussing the outcome of the challenge (several people shooting me vengeful looks that left me making a mental vow to be sure I had Rene with me at all times), lowered their voices enough so Pdl could speak. "By the laws of the Otherworld, Drake Vireo has met the challenge and proved the victor. The terms of the challenge call for the Guardian known as Aisling Grey to accept the punishment meted out by the green dragons." He turned to look at Drake. Istvan limped forward and grinned an evil, anticipatory grin.
I decided right then and there that if I ever truly did become Drake's mate, Istvan would be the first one to go.
Drake glided forward, interrupting his henchman's gloating look. "The punishment will be delayed until such time as the sept can meet to discuss the matter. The challenge has been satisfied."
He looked at me. I put my hand in my pocket and fingered the lodestone, turning to face the crowd. If my plan fizzled out, I'd have to do the one thing I was dreading— summoning Bael. "Drake is right, the challenge has been met and satisfied. He will not turn himself in to the police for the three recent murders that have stained the reputation of the Otherworld. He has no reason to do so even should he have lost, since he is not guilty of those crimes."
"You are the one wanted by the authorities," a tall black man said in heavily accented English. "You are the one who has caused much difficulty to those of us in the I'au-dela. Why should we not turn you over to the police?"
I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm innocent, as well."
"And I say you lie," a voice called from the back of the room.
I smiled as I released the lodestone, breathing a sigh of relief. I had counted on Ophelia's need to witness the challenge to bring her out into the open. The throng in front of me shimmered, then parted slowly, revealing the figure of a woman in black striding toward me, her blond head held high.
The gasps of horror were eerie, but it was the woman herself who set my skin to crawling.
It was Perdita.
"You're—you're dead," I said, my flesh tightening along my back and neck. "We saw you dead." I turned to Drake, confused beyond all confusion. "She was dead, right? We saw her? Together? All of us?"
Drake nodded, his eyes on Perdita. He had that bored look on his face again that I was coming to learn was a warning sign. "I suspect it was a setup."
"Well, that's the understatement of the year," I said as I looked at Perdita. "Why did you pretend to be dead?"
Perdita laughed and spun around with her arms up, showing everyone how healthy she was. "Me? It was I who was drugged and made to look as if I had been murdered, but I am quite well, as you all can see. Your little plan to pin the murders on my servant Ophelia have failed. Now everyone will hear the truth of how you killed the Venediger and Aurora Deauxville in your attempt to serve your master Bael. Everyone in the Other-world will know how you intend to rule them by wielding the Tools of Bael."
I gawked. There was just no other word for it: I gawked at her. "You what? Ophelia was your servant? You said she was your sister!"
Perdita laughed again. "Everyone here knows Ophelia is my doppelganger, my servant to summon when I so desire." She appealed to the crowd. "Is that not so?"
Every single blasted head in the crowd nodded. "Well, poop!" I said, turning to Jim. "Did you know Ophelia was a doppelganger?"
It shook its head, looking thoughtful. "No, but I've been a bit off my game ever since my powers were stripped."
I looked over to Amelie. "A doppelganger?"
She gave a little shrug. "I thought you knew."
"I didn't!"
"You see how she does not deny the truth," Perdita said. "You see that she does not dare refute her dark master. She does not even try to deny that she has in her possession one of the Tools of Bael at this very moment. Is this minion of Abaddon who you want ruling you? Will you let her destroy the Otherworld in order to gain power? Should she be allowed to kill our kind without punishment?"
The crowd rumbled an ominous negative, moving forward slowly until the space on the dance floor all but disappeared. Panicked, I looked over to Drake. He stood a few feet away with his arms crossed over his arms, watching me, making no move to interfere.
Drat his dragon hide.
"I do d
eny the truth," I yelled, the crowd pausing as I waved the steel pointed darts around. "I am not the minion of anyone, nor do I want to rule anyone. I just want my aquamanile back and the murderer of Mme. Deauxville and the Venediger caught so I can go home. Perdita is the killer. She summoned the demon Bafamal to help her set up the murders as a red herring to cover up her true plan lo gather the Tools of Bael. She used her doppelganger sister in order to give her an alibi. She's the one who tried to frame Drake for the murders because she knew he had two of the Tools, and she's the one who will tear apart the mortal world if she is allowed to fulfill her evil plan. Perdita is the only one here trying to escape justice!"
"Lies!" Perdita shrieked, turning back to the crowd.
"Do not listen to her lies—she has no proof to back up her wild accusations. We must take her now, use the Tool she possesses to destroy her before she destroys us. We must stop her!"
"You're right about one thing, you know," [ told Perdita as I pulled the lodestone from my pocket. "I do have the Eye of Lucifer. The rest of what you're saying is a bunch of cow cookies, however. And I can prove it in the simplest way possible." I waited until everyone was silent, watching me as I held up the lodestone. "What say I summon Bael and we ask him just which one of us was working for him?"
Perdita screamed and lunged at me. Bafamal appeared out of nowhere in another of its shiny suits. Jim woofed as it threw itself forward, heading for Bafamal. I slashed the darts into Perdita's arm as she grabbed me, trying to twist with the motion of her body so I could throw her to the ground. We both fell as Ophelia shimmered into view, called by Perdita. The crowd surged forward around us as I struggled to keep the lodestone safe in my hand at the same time I tried to disable Perdita. Ophelia shrieked and grabbed my hair, making my eyes burn hot with tears. I kicked out at her at the same time I punched Perdita on the jaw. She wrenched my arm up, biting my fist in an attempt to get me to release the Eye. Behind us, Jim and Bafamal were locked in battle, each snarling and spitting curses.
Rene pulled out his gun and aimed it over his head, firing a few shots into the ceiling as he yelled, "Stop! I have a gun!"
The heavy lighting fixture above him fell, knocking him to the ground.
"Help. Rene." I gasped to Amelie as I fought to free myself. She hurried over to him.
The air was thick with cries and shouts of encouragement as Perdita and Ophelia and I rolled around in the catfight to end all catfights. "Aren't you going to do something to help me?" I yelled at Drake as I head-butted Ophelia into releasing my hair. Perdita kicked at my knee. I socked her in the stomach. Ophelia threw herself on my back, screaming blue murder in my ear.
Drake tipped his head to the side as we rolled around at his feet. "What will you give me to help you?"
Perdita punched me in the eye. Ophelia bit my ear. I kicked both of them, whipped open the door in my mind, and envisioned a hell of a lot of possibilities, most of which concerned both women cowering before me. The lodestone grew hot in my hand as first Perdita, then Ophelia let go of me to fall away, their faces covered. I crawled out from beneath Ophelia's legs to stand triumphant over them. My nose and mouth were bleeding, one eye was swelling shut, my tunic was torn, my kneecap had been wrenched sideways, I was panting, and I could feel one of my front teeth loose, but I hauled myself up. I wiped the blood off my face, stared at my bloody fingers for a second, then bent down and drew a circle. I turned to face east. "Guardian of the towers of the east, I summon you to guard this circle."
"No!" Perdita shouted, getting to her knees. "No, do not let her do this!"
"Guardian of the tower of the south, I summon you to guard this circle."
"Stop her! Someone must stop her!" Perdita was on her feet now, but when she turned toward me, I held the lodestone up, using it to protect me.
"Guardian of the tower of the west, I summon you to guard this circle."
"Ophelia! Stop her!"
Ophelia crawled toward me. I waved the lodestone, and she collapsed.
"Guardian of the tower of the north, I summon you to guard this circle."
With a cry that shattered every glass hanging in the bar, the demon Bafamal disappeared in a thick, oily black plume of smoke.
I took a deep breath. "I conjure thee, Bael, prince of all the legions of Abaddon."
"She will bring death upon us all," Perdita screamed, trying to lunge at me, but held at bay by the power I wielded through the Eye. "Stop her! Do not allow her to say the words."
Amelie stepped into my range of vision. Her face was drawn and pale, her eyes endlessly deep. She was trying to warn me, but I could not stop to heed her.
"I summon thee, Bael, to appear before me now." The air within the circle thickened.
"No! He will kill me! No one was supposed to know! He will take me with him! Stop, you must stop!" Perdita was sobbing now, on her knees before me in supplication. "Do not do this to me!"
"I command thee, Bael, lord of Abaddon, to my will by the virtue of my power." The air in the circle shimmered, a low howl like the wind in a storm filling the club. The people around us stood frozen, as if in fear of what I was about to do.
Perdita stared at it in horror. "Please! I beg of you, do not! I will be lost!"
"Aisling," Drake said, stepping forward. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I have no choice," I said, keeping my eyes on the woman at my feet. The air within the circle grew pearlescent, as if something was forming, the wind howling within the club growing until it was shrieking like a dying animal. My stomach tightened, my soul sick with dread. "She will not admit her guilt otherwise. By my hand thy shall be bound, by my blood thy shall be bound, by my voice thy shall be—"
"I confess!" Perdita shrieked. She clawed the air, dragging herself to her feet. "I will confess all, only do not bring him! He will take me with him if you do, and I will be damned for all time! I confess, please, I confess!"
"You confess your guilt to everyone here? You confess to the murders of Aurora Deauxville and the Venediger? You confess to arranging the crimes so that Drake and later I would be blamed? Do you confess to binding yourself to the demon lord Bael in exchange for bringing him the Tools of Bael?"
"Yes, yes, I confess it all. I threw suspicion on Drake. I arranged the murders to blame the Otherworld so as to confuse the police. I confess. I confess...." She collapsed, sobbing hysterically as she writhed before the circle.
"I release thee, Bael, by my hand and my blood and my voice, thy shall return to thy dominion."
I rubbed out a bit of the blood forming the circle. The howling grew even louder, until everyone in the club screamed and clutched their ears. The air within twisted as if it were raging against my will, and for one horrible moment I feared I wasn't strong enough to send Bael back, but the lodestone burned hot in my hand with power. With a terrible noise that sounded like a thousand souls in torment, the howling abruptly ceased, the air in the circle slowly returning to normal. Perdita curled up into a fetal ball, rocking as she repeated over and over in a childish singsong voice, "I confess, I confess."
I walked over to Drake and stomped on his foot. Hard. "What will I give you to help me? What will I give you?"
He stood on one leg rubbing his foot, grinning a grin so steamy, it almost melted my underwear. "I never doubted you would defeat her. You are my mate. You could do no less."
I pointed a finger at him. "You are too arrogant for your own good. I officially de-mate you. Go away. I never want to see you again. Except maybe tonight. Naked. Your place. But after that, no more."
I turned back to the now-babbling audience. Rene was being propped up by the crowd; his head was bloody but he appeared to be OK. Amelie was fussing over him, instructing people to bring her water and herbs.
Drake's men pulled Perdita to her feet. She hung limply between them, her hands moving incessantly as if she were drawing something. I moved closer to speak to her, but Pal shook his head. I understood why when I saw her ey
es. They were mad, totally mad. She had snapped under the strain of my threat to bring Bael forward to confront her lies.
I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself, chilled by the proof of what power the Eye could wield, my whole body shaking with the realization of what I had done to another human being.
Warmth flooded me as Drake's hand slid around my waist. I fought the need to lean into him for a moment, then gave in and allowed his fire to flow into my frigid blood. His voice stroked my skin like the sheerest silk. "You are not responsible for her madness. She walked that path long before you came. Is it not the work of a madman to kill for gain?"
"Yes, but... but I scared her by summoning Bael."
"She sold herself to Bael in exchange for power. She made the decision to do so, not you. The price she pays now for that choice has nothing to do with you."
They were nice words, and they made a lot of sense, but they didn't ease all my guilt.
'Too bad we didn't have any Jell-O," Jim said as it strolled over to sniff Perdita. "Think of the money we could have made charging everyone to watch you three babes go at it!"
"You do what I think you're intending on doing, and you will be on nothing but dry dog food for the rest of your unnatural life," I warned it.
Jim lowered its leg and gave me a sour look as it walked away from Perdita.
"What will you do with her?" Amelie asked me, nodding toward the slumped figure.
I looked out at the dissipating crowd. "I don't know—it's not really my decision, is it? Why is everyone leaving? You all belong to the Otherworld, not me. It's up to you guys to decide what happens to her."
Amelie smiled a sad smile. "You have defeated the one who would be Venediger. By rights, that makes you—"
"No!" I yelled, dropping Drake's hand and backing away from them. "It's bad enough I'm a Guardian and a wyvern's ex-mate, and a demon lord. I'm not going to be a Venediger, as well! Jim, I command you, clear me a path! We're getting out of here before anything else happens!"
Epilogue
Do you want me to castrate you right here and now?" "Sheesh!" Jim flared its cloggy nostrils at me and lowered its front from the overstuffed armchair. "I had an itch, that's all! I just wanted to scratch."
You Slay Me Page 28