Light My Fire

by Katie MacAlister

  “Odd,” Drake said in a distracted tone, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I always assumed it would be you who challenged for my mate, not Fiat.”

  “I intended to,” Gabriel said, avoiding my eyes. I stiffened, my hands fisted. How dare he? “But after last night, when you told me Aisling would be having a child, I changed my mind.”

  “Is there anything you can do for Dmitri?” I asked him, deciding I couldn’t deal at that moment with the implications of his statement.

  “No, I’m sorry. There is too much damage to the brain. He will live, but he will not be”—Gabriel gently touched the side of Dmitri’s face—“cognizant.”

  Retribution can be yours, the voice said.

  I ground my teeth, holding back both hot-tempered words and the bile that was raised by the violence of the day.

  Revenge these sins.

  I leaned into Drake to absorb some of his heat, turning away from the persuasive voice within me.

  Right the wrongs.

  “I will not do it!” I shouted out loud, startled by the sound.

  Everyone in the room looked at me.

  “Whoa, meltdown warning,” Jim said, its voice flip, but concern visible in its eyes. “Everyone may want to stand clear.”

  I ignored Jim to glare at Fiat. There had to be a way to do this without using the dark powers.

  “I spoke with a demon lord today. Two, as a matter of fact. I thought they were the coldest, most evil sentient beings I’d ever met, but I was wrong. You are, Fiat. And if there is any way I can bring you to justice for the crimes you have committed today, I will do so.”

  Fiat brushed off my statement as if it were a piece of lint. “Are you aware of how much your desires play a role in my plans for the future?”

  “No.” I frowned, confused even more. “How much?”

  He didn’t bother to look at me when he answered. “None whatsoever. Renaldo, Pietro, we depart. A pleasant evening to you all.”

  Fiat gestured toward the door. His bodyguards fell into place behind him as he started for it.

  “Do something!” I demanded of Drake.

  He raised both eyebrows. “What would you have me do? I am in control of the sept again. Dmitri will be taken care of the rest of his life, but he poses no more of a threat to us.”

  Jim shook its head. “Missing the obvious, man.”

  And how. I frowned up at Drake. “Yes, you’re the wyvern again, but perhaps it’s escaped your attention that Fiat challenged Dmitri for me, which, unless I’m confused about all those bizarre and outdated dragon laws, means I’m now a blue dragon.”

  “You are mine,” Drake said, his eyes blazing. “You will always be mine. You belong to the green dragons. Nothing Fiat can do changes that. This is merely a political move on his part to gain leverage over me, nothing more. He does not expect you to fulfill any duties as the mate to the blue wyvern.”

  Fiat, for a change, said nothing. But he smiled.

  It made my skin crawl.

  “Don’t think I’m going to let this situation pass without correcting it,” I called after Fiat as he opened the door to the hall. He paused and glanced back over his shoulder at me.

  I smiled a grim little smile of my own. Drake’s arm tightened around my waist, giving me strength. “You may think I’m a pawn in this horrible game you’re playing, but you’re wrong. I have a whole lot more going for me than you can possibly imagine.”

  The condescending look on his face made my hand itch. “You have power, cara…but you are too pure of heart to use it.”

  The pressure of Drake’s hand on my side kept me from making wild threats. Evidently I was back in the business of being politically correct.

  “That does not mean you never will, though,” Fiat added, his mind brushing against mine. I have high hopes for your future.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” Nora said what seemed like an eternity later, as she opened the door to Drake, Pál, me, and two of the green dragons who insisted on escorting us home. “Someone attacked István, but he’s going to be all right. Rene is with him now. Jim was here briefly, but it disappeared before I could ask what was going on. I was just leaving you a note and was about to find you…”

  “Drake!” Catalina stood at the top of the stairs and glared down at us as we trooped in the doorway. “Where have you been? This woman here, this Guardian I do not know, has been giving me orders. Me! Make her leave.”

  I wrapped my arms around Drake and buried my face in his neck, allowing him to just hold me. The events of the day had taken away most of my strength, leaving me weak and boneless.

  “She would not help with István,” Nora said in an apologetic tone. “I was a bit sharp with her, I’m afraid. I apologized, but it didn’t seem to do much good.”

  “Make her go away! She is rude to me. I don’t like her.”

  “Mother, cease.” Drake’s voice rumbled in his chest. I melted against him, breathing in his delicious scent, filled with so much love it almost drove out the horrors of the day.

  Almost.

  “I will not be spoken to this way in my own home,” Catalina huffed, twitching herself by Nora as she approached us.

  “This is my home—mine and Aisling’s. You will not insult our guests.”

  “She has bewitched you,” she said, frowning at Drake.

  “She has cast a glamour on you to make you believe she is right for you, but we all know that is not so.”

  I sighed into Drake’s neck and lifted my head to look at my future mother-in-law. “Boo!”

  She gasped, a hand at her throat as she took a couple of steps backwards. Quickly she crossed herself. “Madre de dios! You are marked by the evil one!”

  Nora’s startled intake of breath quickly followed, her eyes huge with horror behind her glasses. “Aisling! Dear god. What have you done?”

  “You know that bad-ass demon lord who was after her blood?” Jim asked.

  Nora didn’t back up the way Drake’s mother did, but she did wrap her arms around herself, as if in protection. She nodded.

  “Well, guess whose ass is the baddest now?”

  The color drained out of her face as she reached blindly for a chair next to the window. “You didn’t…you didn’t…you’re not…”

  “She has sold herself to the devil,” Catalina announced to everyone, her hands waving dramatically. “I hope you are happy now, son of my loins. You are bound to the devil! Pah! I wash my hands of you both. I am returning to Rio. If you come to your senses and rid yourself of the she-devil, you may call me.”

  I sank wearily onto the bench that sat between the arms of the stairs as Catalina made a grand exit, muttering under her breath about exorcisms and the possibility of demonic grandchildren. It was all so horrible, I just wanted to laugh, but I was afraid once I got started I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Aisling?”

  “Yes, it’s true,” I answered Nora’s unasked question. “I did. I am. You’re looking at the newest prince of Hell.”

  She took a couple of steps toward me. Beyond her, Drake stood silent, his arms over his chest as he watched me. I gave him a minuscule little smile to let him know I appreciated his letting me deal with the situation. I knew from our discussion in the car on the way home that he would be much happier taking charge of my life for me.

  “I’m sorry,” Nora said, stopping several feet away.

  “I know you are. It was an accident. Another demon lord tricked me into banishing Ariton.”

  She shook her head, interrupting me. “No, I mean I’m sorry that I won’t be able to continue to mentor you.”

  “What? You said earlier that we’d just go on like be fore, even though the committee had stripped you of the official title.”

  “It’s not that—” She looked from Drake to Pál, then back to me. “You are a demon lord, Aisling. I cannot harbor a demon lord. I cannot mentor one. To be near you is dangerous to me. The power you wield now…I am a mortal. It woul
d be too much temptation for me. It grieves me greatly to say this, but I cannot remain in the same house as you.”

  “Why?” I wailed, hot tears forming in my eyes. My life was falling apart bit by bit, and I felt completely out of control, unable to fix the problems that tormented me. “I’ve been a demon lord since the day you met me.”

  “Yes, but that was with Jim,” she answered waving a hand toward it. “Jim is a sixth-class demon.”

  “What on earth does that mean? Everyone keeps saying it, but I have no idea what a sixth-class demon is.”

  Nora straightened up, giving me a chastising look. “You have not been reading the texts I gave you.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit busy, what with the imps after me, and the red dragons skewering me, and being kidnapped and poisoned and all.”

  “A sixth-class demon is the lesser of all demonkin,” she said in a lecturing tone of voice. “They are Fallen.”

  I rallied my tired brain to focus on what she was saying. “Fallen as in…angels?”

  “Not exactly, but it will do as a generalization.”

  I looked at Jim. “You’re a fallen angel?”

  To my surprise, it looked chagrined. “I was never an angel. Just a minor sprite, servant to a muse. A really cranky muse with absolutely no sense of humor who got me damned and sent to Abaddon. You think organized crime is tough—it’s nothing compared to muses.”

  “You’re a fallen sprite?” I asked, my mind muzzy and slow.

  “Yeah, but don’t let that give you any ideas. I was a bad-boy sprite, feared by all.”

  “OK.” I turned back to Nora. “So Jim is a fallen semi-angellike thing. I can accept that, because I’ve never felt anything truly evil in it. But, Nora, you know me—I’m not bad, either!”

  “You are proscribed,” she said simply, her eyes on mine. “You used the dark power.”

  I pushed myself off the bench, taking a step toward her. She braced herself as if expecting a blow. “Barely! And the first time without knowing what it was. I swear to you now, swear before everyone here, that I will never use it again.”

  “I’m sorry, Aisling.” She glanced at Drake and Pál for a moment. “I’m really very sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”

  I begged, pleaded, and tried reasoning with her for two hours, but with no success. I even followed her into her room as she packed up her few belongings.

  “Aisling, please—you are distressing yourself for no good purpose. I cannot change my feelings on this.”

  “But if I promise—oh, what is it, Pál?”

  Pál held out a phone to me. “Call from Paris.”

  “It must be Amelie. I’m not through making a case yet,” I told Nora as I left her room.

  “It will do you no good,” was all she said in response.

  “Amelie? Hi. What’s up?”

  “Aisling, I wanted to be the one to tell you…today is the day the L’au-delà votes on Venediger, since no suitable candidates have come forward. I am afraid that you will be elected, my friend.”

  I sighed and slumped wearily against the wall. “I’d refuse, except it turns out that Peter Burke is worse than we thought.”

  “He is a demon, then?” Amelie asked. “No. He’s Bael.”

  Amelie swore. “Mon dieu, how could that be? Why did no one recognize him for what he was?”

  “Evidently one of the perks of being the premiere prince of Abaddon is that you can work up a detection-proof disguise. What am I going to do, Amelie? I can’t be Venediger. Things…well, things have happened that I can’t go into now.”

  “I wish I had an answer; I truly do. But the L’au-delà is in uproar now, and someone must step forward before another such as Bael takes control. We are all extremely vulnerable until someone does.”

  The air before me shimmered a moment, then Traci the demon stepped out.

  “I apologize for interrupting, but there are some pressing things for you to sign dealing with the patch out in two days,” it murmured obsequiously, handing me a clip board and pen.

  I stared at in it bewilderment for a moment, quickly scanning the papers. They were all straightforward business-type things, dealing with the release of a new (bug-riddled) patch to the latest version of operating software.

  “Aisling? Are you there?”

  “Yeah. Hang on a sec.” A thought appeared to me, a thought so bizarre, I almost discounted it. But deranged as it was…

  “Can I nominate someone to take charge as Venediger in my stead?” I asked Amelie. “Kind of as a deputy? Someone who would be responsible to me, but do the job on his own until a real Venediger candidate comes forward?”

  She was silent a moment. “Yes, so long as you are ultimately responsible.”

  Traci gave me a pointed look. “There are only four forms. You could sign them in just a few seconds, my lord.”

  “Then you can tell everyone there that I will offer someone to act in my name, someone who is bound to me. His name is Traci.”

  “Traci? This is a man?”

  I smiled at the look of surprise on the demon’s face. “No, this is a demon. My steward, as a matter of fact. It’s too long of a story to go into right now, but you can tell everyone that my deputy for the position of Venediger is Traci.”

  “But…but…” Amelie sputtered a few phrases in French. “Aisling, you cannot place a demon in position as Venediger!”

  “Yeah, it’s an abomination, right?”

  “Oui! Of the most major sort!”

  “Excellent.” I signed the forms and covered the mouthpiece to tell Traci, “I’ll want to talk to you tomorrow about a little project I have for you in Paris.”

  “I shall wait in anticipation,” it answered, looking appalled as its form disappeared into nothing.

  “Excellent? You would put a monster of the dark powers in charge of the L’au-delà, and you say this is excellent?” Amelie all but shrieked at me.

  I couldn’t help a little chuckle. “Yeah. It’s so bad, everyone there will be scrambling to get a new, proper Venediger, won’t they?”

  “Oooh.” She thought about that for a minute. “Yes, but I do not like it.”

  “Well, neither do I, but it’s the only solution I have. Hopefully this will get everyone off their collective duffs and working on getting a real Venediger in place. I’ve got to go—there’s a bit of trouble here and I need to talk to Nora. Love to you and Cecile.”

  “And to you.”

  I sighed as I hung up the phone, wondering whether I’d done the right thing. Black and white no longer seemed to be so absolute anymore. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which was which.

  Nora left an hour later, Rene’s borrowed cab right behind the one Catalina had called to take her to the airport. I stood at the window in Drake’s bedroom and watched as Rene helped put Nora’s meager belongings into the back of the taxi.

  “My life sucks,” I said, leaning my forehead against the window. The door behind me closed. I didn’t have to turn to know it was Drake. I felt his presence as a warm, tingling energy.

  “You are having a bad period, I agree. But it will smooth out.”

  “Nora has left me,” I pointed out, leaning back into him as he wrapped his arms around me, his hands on my belly.

  “But she may return. You do not know what the future may hold.”

  “That’s what Rene said. He also said István is OK.”

  Drake’s warm breath touched my ear, making me shiver. His lips following shortly behind made me melt against him. “I know. I just spoke with him. He is getting proper care. It is you I am concerned about. Are you all right?”

  “No. Everything is ruined.”

  “Everything is not ruined.”

  “Yes, it is. István is hurt.”

  His lips moved to my neck, hitting the one spot that drove me crazy. “You just said he is mending.”

  “I’m a prince of Hell.”

  He bit my earlobe. “That does not mean you
have to remain so.”

  “Jim is calling up everyone it knows and is telling them it’s second in command, and if they want any favors, to get the appropriate bribes in order now.” I turned in his arms and buried my hands in his hair.

  “You should never have given it a cell phone. I will cancel the service.”

  His eyes were so beautiful, so bright with emotion, it hurt to look at them. I dropped my gaze, but Drake wouldn’t allow me to try to hide my shame. He lifted my chin and kissed each eyelid as hot tears squeezed out of them.

  “I’m damned,” I said, the words as hard and abrupt as the pain inside me.

  “You are proscribed. There is a difference. Kincsem, do not hide yourself from me.” His thumb swept gently along my cheekbone, brushing away the tears of blood. “This, too, we will overcome. Do not give up hope, for I have not.”

  I shook my head, fatalism filling me. “I have no hope. I’m doomed.”

  “Is that what Rene said?”

  I glanced up at him, a little confused. “No, as a matter of fact he didn’t. He said something about one path ending and another beginning. Why?”

  Drake was silent for a moment. “You said you suspected that Rene was not who he seemed. Have you not yet figured out just who he is?”

  “No, other than I know he’s not mortal. The guy at the Guardian place said he was a”—I dug through my memory for the word—“daimon. That was it. Do you know what it means?”

  “Yes. It is Latin.”

  “For?” I bit Drake’s chin. “Come on, this has been driving me nuts. I need to know who Rene is.”

  “Daimon is a word meaning fate,” he answered slowly, his eyes smoldering with familiar passion.

  “Rene is…fate?” I asked, nibbling on his delicious lower lip, my hands sliding down to his back, and farther down to his oh-so-delectable butt.

  “One of them, yes.” Drake’s hands did a little exploration of their own.

  My heart dropped as I thought about what fate had in store for me. I pulled away from him and turned to look back out the window. “I could just punch Rene in the nose for what he’s done to me.”

  “He has done nothing. Fates do not make your life, kincsem. They simply assist you to follow the path you’ve chosen.”