Dragon Fall

by Katie MacAlister

  “I know, I know, but I was under stress, and I suffer from test anxiety.” I took a deep breath, fixed my eyes on his, and said loudly, “Jim—”

  “Effrijim.”

  “Sorry, Effrijim, as your official demon lord, I order you to change back into the Newfoundland dog form that you like. The one with the white spot on the chest.”

  “And the big noogies.”

  “And the big…” I stopped, giving him a look. “Just resume the form you like best.”

  Naked man shimmied into the shape of a large black dog, at which point Jim sighed a happy, happy sigh and plopped his butt down onto the floor. “At last! Sheesh, beginner demon lords are harder to deal with than I thought.”

  “I don’t need any lip out of you,” I told him sternly, then considered my hand. “Just how am I supposed to use the ring to get us out of here? Is it like a transporter on Star Trek? Can I just zap us somewhere else?”

  “Dunno. It’s your ring.”

  “Fat lot of help you are,” I said, giving him a little frown before holding out my hand and saying, “Ring, please take Jim and me somewhere safe. Preferably Aisling’s house.”

  Nothing happened. The ring didn’t even so much as glow; it just sat there on my finger being a ring.

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” I said, and gnawed my lower lip a bit while I thought.

  “Anticlimactic,” Jim agreed, nodding.

  “Okay, maybe the transporter request was too much for it. I’ll try this instead.” I placed my palm on the flat, cold surface of the door. “Open sesame!”

  Jim rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

  I slapped my hand on the door. “It has to be the intent behind the words that powers it, right? So it shouldn’t matter what I say. Dammit, door, open up!”

  The door, like the ring, remained annoyingly inanimate. I tried everything I could think of for three straight hours, from vaguely remembered incantations used in popular movies and TV shows, to suggestions from Jim of archaic Latin commands. None of it did anything but leave me hoarse, frustrated, and more than a little worried.

  We dozed for a bit and lost track of time. I had no idea how many hours had passed when I gave in to the dark thoughts that had been growing ever more persistent as each minute passed. It could have been the following morning, or a week later, for all I knew. Time seemed to blur in Abaddon, which left me feeling even more at sea.

  “What if Asmodeus finds a way to get the ring off me?” I said, slumped into a corner, my knees to my chest, with Jim pressed against me for comfort. “What if the way he does that is to leave me here to starve to death so he can just pluck the ring off my cold, lifeless fingers? What if I spend the rest of my life trapped in this dank, dark hellhole, kind of a modern-day man in the iron mask, only without the mask. I’ll end up an old, old lady with crazy hair and crazier eyes until one day, I’ll just topple over and die.”

  “You’re a wyvern’s mate, babe. That means you can’t die unless someone lops off your head, or cuts out your heart, or something like that,” Jim said in an obnoxiously cheerful voice.

  I lifted my head from where my cheek lay on my knee and gave him a look that I felt he deserved. “Great. So now I just get to be perpetually old crazy lady in a cell that no one remembers.”

  “You got me, chicky,” Jim said, rubbing his head on my leg. Unfortunately, that also meant the drool tendrils that swung from his furry lips had a landing zone. I shifted my look to the long, slimy ropes on my pant leg before cocking an eyebrow at him. “Heh. Sorry. Afraid that’s one of the downsides to having such a stunning form. I’m sure it’ll dry quickly.”

  I sighed, fully engulfed in martyr mode. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m doomed, doomed, doomed.”

  “Emo much?”

  “Doomed with a smart-aleck demon. This just gets better.”

  “Man, you are a Debbie Downer today.”

  I straightened up and glared at him. “I am not! And if I was, I have every right to be one. I mean, look at the situation!”

  “I am. It’s not so bad.”

  “Are you insane? How can being locked in a cell in hell not be bad?”

  “Abaddon, and you’re not thinking right.”

  I squinted at him with suspicion. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I told you what you were, right?” Jim stood up and stretched, then ambled over to the door to give it a sniff.

  I thought. “You said I was emo and a Debbie Downer, which I’m absolutely not.”

  “Not that, the other thing.”

  I dug around in my memory. “Wyvern’s mate?”

  Jim snuffled the bottom of the door. “And what does that mean?”

  I chewed my lower lip again. “It means that Kostya and I are a couple, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Don’t give me that look—I know full well that you’re implying that Kostya will somehow feel obligated to rescue me, but that’s not very realistic. For one, he has stated more times than I can count that I’m not his mate, and he doesn’t want me even if I am. And unless I’m missing something, hell—fine, Abaddon—isn’t a place that’s likely to be easy to conduct a jailbreak. So even if Kostya did feel inclined to rescue us, I don’t see how he’s going to do it.”

  “Dragons don’t like being parted from their mates,” Jim said with a little shrug, sitting down just out of range of the door. “And judging by the way that Slick goes for your boobies, I don’t see him washing his hands of you and going on his merry way.”

  “I do have the ring,” I said thoughtfully, my spirits rising. “He can’t want that to fall into Asmodeus’s hands. Hmm. You might be right, Jim.”

  “’Bout time someone finally admitted that,” Jim said, tipping his head to the side and looking back at the door.

  I was about to ask him what he so obviously heard when the door suddenly burst into flame. I leaped to my feet and pulled Jim backward.

  “Dragon fire!” I said excitedly, hope blossoming again within me. “You were right! Kostya is rescuing me!”

  “Us.” He nudged my hand with his head.

  “Yes, sorry, us, both of us.” I patted his head and almost did a dance of joy as the door, now burning merrily, started going black around the edges. If the door had been set alight with normal fire, Jim and I would have likely choked to death on the smoke, but with dragon fire, there was less smoke and more flames. “I wonder how long it’s going to take. I’d like to get out of here before Asmodeus realizes—Holy shish kebabs!”

  As I spoke, a sudden whumping noise shook the door. A second followed, and on the third, the door collapsed inward, revealing Kostya.

  With a half sob, half laugh, I flung myself at him, my heart filled with happiness at the sight and scent and feel of him. He caught me before I could topple him, spinning me around once and wrapping his arms around me with a muttered, “Aoife. You are not harmed?” before kissing the answer right off my tongue.

  “When I heard you were taken, it was as if my heart were ripped from my chest,” he murmured against my lips, then suddenly pushed me back to examine me, the silver in his black irises glittering dangerously. “The red dragons did not hurt you, did they?”

  “No, they didn’t. I’m fine,” I said shakily a moment later, when I could think again.

  “I’m fine, too, although I’m more than a little weirded out that Eefs likes to see me in naked human form,” Jim said, sauntering through the still-burning door frame.

  “Jim!”

  “Just sayin’.” Jim turned his attention to Kostya. “Nice shiner, Slick. We going to get out of here, or what?”

  “Shiner?” I pulled back enough to frown at Kostya’s face. “You have a black eye. Was that from Drake—”

  “Yes,” he interrupted, pulling me down the hallway, not toward the stairs as I expected, but deeper into the cellar. “It matters not, however. We must leave now. The distractions will keep Asmodeus and his minions only so long.”

  “What sort of distractions? The
green dragons? They helped you?” Kostya was moving so fast, I had to trot to keep up with him. “That was nice of them.”

  Kostya snorted. “I paid for that service, I assure you.”

  “Drake charged you? Well, I have to say, that’s kind of mercenary. I mean, he is family—Whoa, what’s that?”

  We had entered another cell, a slightly larger room, this one holding rusted pieces of what looked like medieval torture implements. I averted my gaze and instead gawked at a black, jagged rent that appeared to be floating in midair next to a thin man with slicked-back blond hair.

  “It’s a tear in the fabric of space. Aisling ordered the demon to keep it open for us. Jim, you go first.”

  “I have a name,” the blond man said with a sniff. “I am Amy, lord of twenty-six legions and servant to Ashtorath. Effrijim, I see you still insist on clinging to that motley form.”

  “Motley?” Jim said, about ready to jump through the inky tear into nothingness. “Dude, you are clearly suffering from form envy. Get with the program. Let me walk you through a tour of all my magnificent points—”

  Jim likely would have continued, but Kostya, with an annoyed click of his tongue, hefted Jim and tossed him through the gaping black tear in the fabric of space. Behind us, a horrible keening sound started, one that set my teeth on edge and made the skin on my arms crawl in horror.

  “Go!” Kostya ordered, shoving me toward the black rent.

  “All right, but I’m not leaving you here.” I grabbed his wrist and jumped, pulling him into the abyss with me.

  Fourteen

  “So, this is the delicious Eva, hmm?”

  Groggily, I shook my head and got to my knees, looking upward at the man who stood next to me. He was about my height, with black hair that was slicked back and a face that looked strangely familiar. He also had a leer that instinctively had me reaching for Kostya. “It’s Aoife, not Eva. Kostya, are you all right? Where are we?”

  Kostya lay facedown next to me on asphalt. Judging by the debris, water-stained cardboard boxes, looming large trash receptacles, general smell, and dimness of light, I judged us to be in an alley of some sort. I scooted over to him, ignoring the pain as small pebbles and a plastic bottle cap dug into my knee, and rolled Kostya over.

  His eyes opened, but they were unfocused.

  “Holy crapballs, what did you do to him?” I snarled in the direction of the black-haired letch. “Kostya, my darling, are you all right? It’s me, Aoife. Do you recognize me? Did you hit your head? Is anything broken?”

  Quickly I felt my way down his body, but nothing seemed harmed.

  He said something I didn’t understand and blinked at me. His hair, normally swept back from his brow, looked rumpled, as if someone had ruffled his hair and left it standing on end. His black eye was already fading, allowing him to squint at me and say, “Aoife?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” I smoothed his hair down. “Did you hurt yourself? I think I blacked out going through that tear thingie, but I didn’t feel sick like I did when Jim and I got dragged into hell.”

  “Abaddon,” corrected the man next to us. “Wyvern, the Guardian told me to instruct you to return to her home. You will tell her that I have completed the tasks she has given me, and thus you are to give me the location of your mother, as agreed.”

  Kostya sat up, shaking his head a little, obviously to clear it. He frowned, then glared up at the man. “Who… oh, it’s you. I forgot Aisling had to use you.”

  “Use me! I am used by no woman, unless she has a donkey rig and several small, barbed whips.” Even as I helped Kostya get to his feet, the man hitched his leer up a notch and waggled his eyebrows at me. “I don’t suppose you care for barbed whips, my delectable little wyvern’s mate?”

  “Who the hell—”

  “Abaddon.”

  “—are you?” I asked, brushing off first Kostya, then my own jeans.

  “Magoth, former prince of Abaddon and ruler of more legions than you could count, demon lord extraordinaire, and star of stage, screen, and soon a highly anticipated series of erotic webisodes. I believe that’s the correct word. My people would know.” He waved a hand in a vague manner. “You may call me ‘my lord.’ Or perhaps ‘master,’ although that tends to be overused these days.”

  “How about neither,” I grumbled, glancing up and down the alley. “Where’s Jim?”

  “The demon went off to find transport.” Magoth pulled out a cell phone and read some messages. “The location of the wickedly inventive Dona Catalina?”

  Kostya straightened up, finally getting himself together. He gave Magoth a long, long look before shaking his head. “She is well able to take care of herself, so I don’t know why I hesitate to tell you. She is in Aruba. Recently, she began a bondage club there and has expressed her intent to stay on until it bores her.”

  “Oooh, bondage club,” Magoth said, a little ripple of pleasure visibly affecting him. “What a delightful notion. City and address?”

  Kostya told him.

  “I shall look forward to offering her my expert advice on the best way to add a little extra sado to her masochism.” Magoth gave us a little bow, tried to catch a look down my shirt, and when I crossed my arms, heaved a huge mock sigh and toddled off.

  “That was a former demon lord?” I asked Kostya when he, without even a glance my way, turned and headed in the opposite direction. “Why does he want to know where your mom is? And while we’re on the subject: you have a mom?”

  “Of course I have a mother. Everyone does.”

  I glared after him for a moment, then broke into a trot to catch up, taking his hand when I did so. “Yes, but not all of them are alive, especially not if you’re several hundred years old. Aren’t you a little bit worried about sending a demon lord her way? One who clearly has some sexual deviancy issues?”

  His fingers weren’t at all their usual pleasant selves. He didn’t so much as rub his thumb over the back of my hand. Nor did he look at me. Rather than being a man who, according to Jim, had missed me greatly, he had the appearance of one who couldn’t bear to have me around.

  I was far more hurt than I wanted to admit, but I was unsure of whether I should just ask him what was wrong or give him the space he was so obviously signaling that he needed.

  “Unfortunately, my mother spent some time enjoying Magoth’s company. It drove Drake mad, but our mother has long made her own choices, and she little heeds our advice. Besides, the last time she and Magoth got together, he was out of commission for a good three days.” Suddenly, he smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. “There are few who can best Mother, especially when it comes to dubious sexual practices.”

  “Great. I’m marrying into a family of bondage fans,” I said lightly, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze.

  He dropped my hand, striding across a narrow street into another alley.

  I stopped, wanting to cry, and hit him, and run away and hide for a few years. I did none of them.

  Kostya must have realized I wasn’t with him, for halfway down the alley he stopped and turned to gesture me forward.

  “This is not the time or place,” I told myself, hesitating a few seconds before I crossed the street and entered the alley. “There are better times to deal with whatever bee is up his butt.” As I approached him, he turned, obviously not even able to stand looking at me. “To hell with the right time—what is the matter with you?”

  He had started to walk on, but when I didn’t follow, he half turned back toward me. “What?”

  “That’s what I want to know—what’s wrong with you? Have I suddenly turned into something repulsive that you can’t even brace yourself to look me in the eye? Do I smell like something horrible? Are you pissed at me?”

  He blinked for a couple of seconds, then shook his head. “We must hurry.”

  “No, sir.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not going anywhere with a man who obviously can’t stand being with me.”

  A low, primal growl was ripped out o
f him as he moved, quicker than I could follow, down the alley. One moment I was standing there thinking how much I’d like to punch him in the arm, and the next I was smashed up against something hard, cold stone at my back and hot dragon at my front.

  “You think I cannot bear to be with you?” The silver flecks in his eyes glittered a warning, but I could sense his fire riding high and knew just how close he was to losing control. “I cannot bear to be without you, woman. You are life to me. There’s not a breath I take that does not need you to complete it. The sun rises, and the moon sets, and without you, it would all be meaningless. Do you understand now?”

  “No,” I said softly, putting my hands on his chest, melting at the romance of the moment despite the setting and the fact that the words sounded as if he were chiseling each one out of granite. “But that’s beautiful, Kostya. I’m touched, I really am. But if you feel that way about me, why are you treating me like I’m a leper?”

  He growled again; this time it was a sexy sound, one that had my internal engine humming. “Dragons do not like to be parted from their women. When they do, they must join. It is an urgent need, one basic to our beings, that can’t be dismissed. We must reclaim that which is ours.”

  I squinted at him, confused by his declarations. “You wouldn’t even let me hold your hand, you idiot. How is that the sun rising and moon setting?”

  He heaved a sigh, and his lips hovered over mine, but despite me tipping up my head in welcome, he pushed away with a snarl. “You have no idea how you tempt me. How I want to hold you and possess you. How I wish to breathe in your scent and feel the warm satin of your skin against mine. I need all this with a desperation that is almost making me insane, but I cannot have it. If I was to so much as kiss you, I would not be able to maintain control.”

  “Oh?” I followed when he turned and continued down the alley, the penny finally dropping. “Oh! You mean you’re giving me the cold shoulder because…”

  His jaw was so tight, it’s a wonder he got any words out. “You would not like me taking you here in the street. Besides, it would be unsafe. The red dragons are clearly on the hunt for us. Above all else, I must protect you.”