Up In Smoke

by Katie MacAlister

  “I can’t begin to name the deities to which I offer my soul-deep gratitude for the fact that you haven’t been able to do that for almost a century,” I answered, rubbing the goose bumps on my arms as I stepped out of his chilly embrace.

  “Come. We shall take care of this matter right now.” Magoth grabbed my wrist and started to haul me out of the room. “We will formally announce to the other princes that you will be made my consort in . . . how long will it take you to prepare for the ceremony?”

  “A millennium?” I asked, feeling a familiar tingle start at my toes and work upward. “I think I’m being summoned again, just so you know.”

  He let go of my hand, surprising me with an expression of pleasure. “It must be your dragon again. Excellent. You have my permission to tell him of the impending consorthood. In fact, tell him he’s invited to the ceremony. All the dragons are! You may have five minutes to explain everything, after which I will expect you to return to me. I will begin the proceedings while you are doing that.”

  His image shimmered for a moment, then was gone, no doubt on his way to the room he called his library, although it resembled a porn museum more than any collection of literature.

  “Gee, thanks,” I told Sally.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sugar; did I overstep my bounds?” she asked, sincerity filling her face, but I wasn’t fooled one bit.

  “You’ll make a grade-A demon lord, you know.”

  She flashed a smile at me. “Why, thank you, May! That’s very sweet of you to say . . .”

  Sally faded as I was yanked out of Magoth’s domain and back into the real world.

  “Aw, her face isn’t green anymore. And I got the digital camera out and everything! I was going to send Cecile a piccy to show her what doppelgangers were looking like these days,” a voice complained as I shook away the dizziness that came with such transitions.

  “Cecile?” I asked somewhat woozily as my vision returned.

  Everyone stood in the same positions as the last time I had seen them, Aisling leaning on Drake, Jim sitting at her feet (with a digital camera), Nora the Guardian, and behind me . . .

  “Magoth has given me five minutes, which I think should just about be enough time to kiss the living fire right out of you,” I told Gabriel.

  His dimples flashed as he held his arms open. I didn’t hesitate, just threw myself on him, my soul singing as his warmth and scent and presence sank into me. “It’ll take a lifetime for that to happen, little bird. But before you have your wanton way with me, there is something I must first tell you.”

  “Perhaps we should give them a little privacy,” Nora murmured behind me.

  “We’ll be in the sitting room if you need us,” Aisling said.

  “I want to stay. Look, Gabriel’s got his hands on her butt, and it looks like May is going to—ow! I’m calling the demon-abuse hotline!”

  Jim’s voice faded as Aisling hauled the demon out with her.

  Gabriel’s bright eyes flickered away from me for a moment. “This won’t take long,” he told Drake, who had paused after ushering Aisling and her demon out.

  One of Drake’s eyebrows quirked upward, but he said nothing, just bowed to me and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  “Much as I would love to argue with you that it will, in fact, take a long, long time, I suspect you aren’t talking about lovemaking. Not to mention the fact that Magoth would end up summoning me back before we could do much of anything.” I slid my hands over the soft black linen shirt Gabriel wore. Although most dragons wore clothing that reflected the color of their septs, Gabriel dressed just as often in black as he did in silver and gray, something I took as a nod to the origins of the silver dragon sept.

  A speculative glint lightened Gabriel’s eyes. He cast a quick glance to the side, where a long chaise held sway in the corner of the room, but sanity quickly returned to him. His chest rose beneath my hands as he gave a heavy sigh. “I’m quick, but not that quick. A mutual seduction will have to wait until we have more time, Mayling.”

  “Agreed, although you know how fast you can make me . . . No, you’re right, we’ll wait. It’ll be better if we aren’t rushed. What was that little look to Drake all about? And how did you get Nora to summon me? I’m not a demon.”

  “No, but you are a minion, and as such can be summoned just as easily as a demon. Mayling, I have missed you.”

  His lips were warm against mine as he spoke. My entire body answered the unspoken desire in his eyes. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you, although I don’t have time to. Magoth will be sure to recall me in”—I consulted my watch—“four and a half minutes. Oh, to hell with it. It’s been a long, long six weeks . . .”

  His fingers dug into my hips as he hoisted me up so he could kiss me without bending down. I wrapped my legs around him, twining my tongue around his as he swept into my mouth.

  “Fire, please,” I whispered, giving his lower lip a quick nip to remind him just how much I loved the feeling of sharing his dragon fire.

  “Such a demanding little bird,” he chuckled, then groaned when I swept my hands under his shirt, around his ribs, stroking the lovely long lines of muscle in his back. He gave me what I wanted, his fire spilling from him to me as he kissed me with a yearning that echoed deep within me.

  I gave in to the passion that swept me up in its fiery grip, emotion that was joined by joy, sorrow, and the fear that despite the fact that we were fated to be together, there might not be a way to overcome that which separated us.

  “I told you when you left me that I do not give up what is mine, and you, my raven-haired mate, are most definitely mine.” Gabriel’s words were as soft as the whisper of his beard against my jaw as he kissed a burning line over to my ear.

  “I didn’t leave you,” I pointed out, moaning just a little when he hit a spot that made me shiver in his arms. I turned my attention to nibbling his neck, pushing aside the soft dreadlocks to suck his earlobe, something I knew drove him wild. “I sacrificed myself for your happiness.”

  Gabriel stopped kissing the shivery spot and pulled back just enough to give me a chastising look.

  “Oh, all right,” I told the look, kissing the one eyebrow that had risen in question. “I didn’t sacrifice myself per se, I simply did what I had to do in order to buy us a little time. I take it that since you had Aisling’s friend summon me, it means that you found a way to get me out of Abaddon?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” He kissed me again, then reluctantly let me slide down his body until I was on my feet again. “I’ve had everyone working on the situation with you and Magoth. Through Aisling’s auspices, I’ve consulted the Guardians’ Guild, a number of oracles, and even a seer. All of them told me the same thing—there is no way to force a demon lord into giving up a minion bound to him.”

  I said nothing but watched him closely, sure that he wouldn’t let the matter end there.

  His dimples emerged. “So then I went back to Aisling and asked her what she would do if she was in my position.”

  A little pang of jealousy gave me a moment of irritation. Before I had met Gabriel, he had been what I assume was moderately smitten with Aisling, evidently considering stealing her from Drake. That he gave up the idea when he found out Aisling was pregnant said much, but I wouldn’t be female if it didn’t annoy me just a smidgen that he turned to her for help.

  “Jealousy becomes you,” he said, his dimples flashing even deeper.

  “I sure wish I knew why you can read my mind at times, and I can’t read yours at all,” I answered, giving him a hearty pinch on his attractive behind. “I’m not jealous. I’m just . . . Oh, move on. We don’t have time for me to explain my emotions.”

  “I look forward to the time when you can explain,” he answered with a wicked glint in his quicksilver eyes. The amusement in them faded as he continued. “Aisling thought about the situation for several weeks but in the end had only one suggestion: that you barter
for your freedom.”

  “Barter? Barter what? Not the phylactery, I hope.”

  “No, not that,” he said, the lines of his face deepening. “I would not part with that, not after what it cost you.”

  “Good, because I didn’t give it to you lightly. I knew you would keep it safe, keep it from Kostya or Magoth or anyone else misusing its power. Er . . . where is it?”

  “Safe,” he answered.

  I searched his face but was satisfied with the honesty I found there. Gabriel knew what it had cost me to go dybbuk by giving him the phylactery—he wouldn’t give it up to anyone. “Do you have something I can barter with, then? Because I’m at a loss as to what you think I have,” I said, casting my mind over my meager possessions. “If I had anything valuable, Magoth would have long ago demanded I hand it over.”

  He shook his head. “I have many treasures that the demon lord would no doubt covet, but I do not give up anything I hold.” His thumb swept across my lower lip. I bit it. “That includes you, little bird.”

  “Then, what am I supposed to barter with?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” A horrible thought came to mind, one that I instantly dismissed as being too ludicrous for words.

  Gabriel looked offended. “Do you seriously believe I would allow you to sell your body—”

  “Of course I don’t! And stop being indignant over the idea. If you hadn’t read my mind, you wouldn’t know that the thought had even occurred to me. It’s just . . . what exactly about me do you think will sway Magoth?”

  “Your origins, Mayling. You’re a doppelganger, yes, but you live in the mortal world. Aisling tells me that of all the princes of Abaddon, only one has the ability to frequent this world, something that irritates the other lords.”

  Enlightenment dawned on me at that moment. “Agathos daimon—you want to release Magoth on the mortal world? Gabriel, I can’t begin to tell you what a very, very bad idea that is. There’s no one who wants to be out of Abaddon more than me, but not at the cost of endangering mortals.”

  “But they would not be endangered, not if Magoth is granted access via you. Aisling has a copy of a book that sets down the rules of Abaddon.”

  “The Doctrine of Unending Conscious, yes,” I said, nodding. “I’m familiar with it. You’re talking about the part that says if I agree to become Magoth’s consort, he will have access to my world of origin, but I say again: that’s not a good idea.”

  “You are not as familiar with it as you might be,” he said, his hands warm on my waist as he gently pulled me up against his chest, his breath brushing my face. “The book also says that when a demon lord accesses the world in such a manner, it is in a diminished capacity.”

  “Diminished?” I bit my lip and thought about that for a moment. It made sense—a demon lord’s abilities came from the dark power that had its source in Abaddon, which was why so few of them ever established a presence in the mortal world. Only the very strongest of all the demon lords, the head prince of Abaddon himself, was known to possess enough power to walk among mortals and immortals alike. The others had appeared briefly now and again, but only Bael could maintain a presence here.

  “Aisling and her mentor, Nora, researched the matter most thoroughly, I can assure you, and they both agree that Magoth would enter the mortal world with little power, nothing that can’t be controlled by keeping him under surveillance. And I have arranged to do just that.”

  “But what if that’s wrong? What if he comes through with more power than anyone expects?”

  “How could he do so?” Gabriel asked.

  I wrapped my arms around him and leaned against him, my mind working over what he asked. “I don’t know. I guess he couldn’t. I don’t have any power he can share—his origins are dark, so he can’t go into the shadow world like we can. I guess I just hate to give him what he wants.”

  “I understand, little bird, and I wish the situation was different. But I cannot think of another way to free you from his control other than to give him something he wants more than you.”

  What he said made sense—it made absolute sense—but still, it irked me.

  “All right, then,” I said with dull acceptance. “Since it doesn’t bother you to have your mate made the consort of a demon lord, I’ll give Magoth what he wants.”

  Gabriel moved faster than I could see. He spun me around so that I was pressed up against the window, the glass icy cold against my back as he burned my front with eyes that spat silver fire. “Do not ever say that it doesn’t bother me, May. You are mine, my mate, the only woman who will ever be such, and I do not share what is mine. But just as you sacrificed yourself at the time for the better good, so I will ignore the pain that is caused by knowing my mate is technically the consort of a demon lord.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, unable to keep from stroking the hard line of his jaw.

  He continued to pin me back with a heated look that left me in no confusion about his emotions, then turned his head slightly and kissed my palm, tracing out on it a smaller symbol of a hand bearing a crescent moon. It was the symbol of the silver dragons and was identical to the small brand I wore on my upper back. “We have been too long apart. It is not your fault that you have not yet accepted that you are everything to me.”

  “Oh, gods, how I missed you,” I said, kissing him with all the passion I had.

  “There is nothing—”

  The world spun drunkenly, yanking me from Gabriel’s arms before he could finish his sentence, sending me plummeting with a gut-wrenching feeling into an abyss of darkness.

  Chapter Three

  “This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me! Will I be asked to speak, do you think? You know, something like toasting the bride and groom?” Sally asked as she posed in front of a full-length mirror, tugging at the neckline of a Pepto-Bismol pink dress. “Oh, I’m sorry; I’m hogging the mirror. I’m sure you want to check yourself.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I said absently, turning in my hands a scanty bit of lamé and leather that Magoth had produced as proper consort wear. “He has to be kidding. This isn’t enough to cover a hamster, let alone a woman.”

  “Well, you are positively tiny,” Sally said, turning around so she could examine her backside in the mirror. “Do you think the bow at the derriere is too much? I think it adds a sort of jaunty touch, but if you think it’s out of line with the gravity of the moment, I can snip it off.”

  I shook out the consort garment in hopes it would magically enlarge, sighing when it remained a pathetic little contraption made up of leather straps and what I assumed were strategically placed bits of cloth. “I don’t think it’s really going to matter. Thank god I didn’t tell Gabriel that Magoth wanted him for the consort ceremony. I’d really rather he not see me in this. Magoth went way over the line this time.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Sally called after me as I escaped to the privacy of the bathroom to don the skimpy outfit. “I’ve found that he has exceptionally good taste. He absolutely loves this dress!”

  It took me a minute to struggle into the skintight leather-strap outfit that Magoth had created for me, and then another couple of minutes to steel my nerve to step out of the bathroom. I knew without even seeing my reflection that I looked like a cross between a bondage princess and a stripper, buckled leather straps the only things covering my naked torso. The straps continued down my legs, ending in a pair of stilettos that would quite possibly leave me lame. There was a bit of cloth at the crotch, but other than that, it was all leather straps. “I think this little item puts the question of Magoth’s supposed good taste to an end.”

  “I wonder if I should change into a strapless bra for this dress,” Sally murmured, fluffing her cleavage and leaning down to examine the results in the mirror. “Sorry? Did you say someth . . . Oh, my.”

  “Don’t say it,” I told her, only just keeping from looking down at myself to make sure one of my breasts
hadn’t popped out of its restrictive strap.

  “You . . . That’s very . . . Oh, my.”

  “Uh-huh.” I picked up a spiked dog collar and pursed my lips at it for a moment as I contemplated canceling the whole thing, but the image of a silver-eyed dragon rose in my mind. I strapped the dog collar onto my neck and nodded to Sally. “All right, demon of honor, let’s get this done.”

  “Don’t you want to . . . er . . . check your outfit?” she asked, waving a hand toward the mirror. The look on her face was a nearly indescribable mixture of horror and amusement.

  “I wouldn’t if I could,” I said, giving the mirror a quick frown. “Magoth really is perverse.”

  She eyed me as I slipped my familiar dagger into the sheath at my ankle. “It’s hard to deny a statement like that when faced with your ensemble, but perhaps he didn’t know what it would look like on you?”

  I opened the door, adjusted the large leather strap that ran across my breasts so it hid my nipples, tugged down the minuscule bit of cloth on my rump, and prayed the upcoming ceremony was going to be brief. “That isn’t actually what I was referring to, although it certainly applies. I was talking about the mirror.”

  “The mirror? You’re still going on about that? And you know, I’m not really a demon, so the term ‘demon of honor’ isn’t technically correct. I think I’d prefer the term ‘counsel,’ since I’m here to give you the benefit of my experiences with both the Carrie Fay world and Abaddon.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her what was the difference, but I managed to stifle that urge. “Magoth had that huge mirror put in my room simply out of perverse pleasure. He insists on pretending he can’t remember that I don’t have a reflection even though we both know better.”