Up In Smoke

by Katie MacAlister

  “Jewelry?” I asked, remembering how gold affects dragons. It seemed to act as both an aphrodisiac and a sort of dragonish catnip, driving them wild.

  “No.” He smiled and reached for the bowl, pulling off the cloth covering it. Inside was a small fan brush and a pool of goldish powder. “Gold dust. I’m going to paint you with it and lick it off. I believe that will qualify as—oof!”

  I had a momentary image of what Gabriel was proposing when the scent of the dust reached my nose. A tidal wave of desire crashed over me, sending me forward as I shoved him backwards onto the floor, one hand grabbing the bowl, sprinkling the gold all over him. My fingers elongated, turning silver, the crimson tips biting into his sides as I gave in to the unbridled emotions that churned within me.

  “Take me,” I said, rubbing my body against his in a sinuous, gold-flecked dance. His entire body stiffened for a second; then I bit his shoulder and squirmed against him again, overwhelmed with the need to be joined together. “Now.”

  Luckily, his control wasn’t as great as he thought it was, because all it took was one little bite, and in a flash, I was on my back, Gabriel looming over me, his head blotting out the sun, the eyeshade askew, leaving one silver eye uncovered. I knew the moment the scent of the gold hit him. His body tightened as if he was going to spring, and then he was there inside of me, our bodies and souls joined in a wild frenzied dance that was more beautiful than anything I’d ever beheld.

  Deep, primal urges drove me on, visions flickering in my head of things I couldn’t begin to understand. I moved, and he moved with me, our bodies moving in a manner that was unlike anything I’d experienced. We rushed toward a climax, driven too mad by the scent and taste of the gold to do anything else, and at the moment when I gave myself up to it, up to him, the world changed. It shifted even as I shifted, my body elongating at the same time Gabriel’s did, arms and legs and tails and necks entwined with a glittering silver brilliance, a nova of passion that exploded even as a star explodes, filling the sky with its radiant light.

  We fell back to the earth one silver-scaled microscopic piece at a time, our beings gently twirling around each other, as if someone had sprinkled the air with glitter. I lay strewn upon the surface, content just to be, content to know that whatever else would happen to or in my life, I could never be separated from Gabriel.

  A loud knocking at the door, accompanied by muted voices, disrupted my philosophical meanderings. I was brought back to reality with a sudden jerk as Gabriel lifted me off of the floor of the balcony and carried me into his room.

  “What is it?” he called, setting me down next to my bags. I grabbed the nearest one and made a run for the bathroom even as he jerked on a pair of jeans to answer the door.

  My legs were weak, my hands shaking as I dug through the bag, then stepped back to rub the sudden crop of goose bumps that rose on my arms. The experience I’d just shared with Gabriel was still strong in my mind, too strong. “It wasn’t me,” I told the mirror that did not contain my reflection. “I’m not a dragon; I’m not.”

  I looked down at my gold-dusted torso and shuddered. I was being consumed by the dragon shard. I was changing, turning into a dragon, and that scared me to the tips of my toenails.

  What if Gabriel preferred me as a dragon? What if he’d prefer to have a dragon mate, someone who understood his emotions, his needs, the things that drove him? How could I possibly begin to explain to him the fear that I was losing myself?

  The door opened. I clutched at a piece of clothing in an attempt to cover myself, but it was just Gabriel. He marched over to a large shower and yanked the faucet so that the three showerheads burst to life. “I wish I had time to wash the gold off you in a manner that would please us both, but we do not have time, little bird.”

  He held open the shower door for me, following me as I entered. “What’s wrong? Who was that at the door?”

  “Jian.” He gave me an earthy-smelling soap and a loofah, taking another for himself.

  I dutifully scrubbed the gold dust off myself, my feelings conflicted—part of me wanted to shove away the sea sponge he was using and lather him up with my hands, stroking the entire length of his wet, soapy body, the other part of me shying away from the thought of another lovemaking session that would end with me losing yet another piece of myself to the dragon shard. I dragged my mind back from that subject to more important matters. “The red wyvern’s bodyguard? What’s he doing here?”

  He tossed his sponge to the side, stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel to briskly dry himself. “He wants our help.”

  “Our help with what?” I asked, hurriedly rinsing off, following Gabriel out of the shower. I accepted the towel he tossed my way, going to the door as he strode out into his bedroom, heading for a bank of closets that lined one wall.

  “He wants us to rescue his mother.”

  A chill swept over me that had nothing to do with the balmy ocean air striking my wet flesh.

  Gabriel’s mouth was grim as he grabbed a shirt. “He wants us to bring Chuan Ren back from Abaddon.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  He came to me in the shadow world.

  I felt his presence before I saw it, a warm glow of lightness filling me as I huddled in a dark corner of what was, in the mortal world, the hotel lobby. Faint, vague shadows passed in and around me, echoes of human reality, visible in my world, but not really tangible. Nothing was. Nothing touched me.

  Until Gabriel found me.

  He sat next to me, his image all that he could project into the shadow world, but even though his body remained in the mortal world, the dragon-heart shard was aware that he was close.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, his voice mild.

  “The reason I ran from you, you mean?”

  He shook his head. Even here, his eyes were brilliant, glittering with so much emotion, they seemed to glow. “I know why you ran. It is part of the mating ritual. Females lead; males follow. What I want to know is why you are filled with so much fear and loathing.”

  I rested my chin on my knees, my arms wrapped around my legs. I didn’t need to look at him to know he was hurt by my apparent rejection. “I don’t loathe anyone. Well, perhaps Magoth, but that’s natural, given the situation.”

  He was silent for a moment. “No, it is there; I can still sense it. You are afraid, desperately afraid of something, but there is also a self-loathing that completely baffles me. It was not there before. What has happened that you don’t like yourself, Mayling? What has frightened you? More importantly, why do you feel you cannot turn to me for help?”

  The fabric of my jeans was rough under my cheek as I tipped my head slightly, not soft and warm, as I knew Gabriel was. I wished with every ounce of my being that it was his chest my head rested on, the soft hairs tickling me as I breathed in his wonderful scent, my lips seeking out the silken stretches of skin as I kissed a path to his ticklish ribs, smiling a little to myself as he squirmed beneath my caresses, knowing how his little intakes of breath as I kissed his belly would change to groans of arousal as I slid down his body, my hands and mouth intent on bringing him to the very edge of pleasure even as I burst into a nova of ecstasy—no!

  I jerked to the side, horrified that even in the shadow world, my world, the dragon shard had such a grip on me, it could override my reason.

  “You do not want me,” Gabriel said, his voice cold and lifeless. “You recoil from me.”

  It took me a moment to get a grip on my rampant emotions, and in the space of that moment, Gabriel withdrew, not physically, but emotionally.

  “Do you seriously believe that I can burn down an entire floor of a hotel while engaged in lovemaking with you, and not want you? Gabriel, it’s taking every ounce of strength I possess to keep from flinging myself on you and licking every square inch of your really incredibly hot body.”

  Animation returned to his face as he considered that for a moment. “Why would you not wish to fling yourself upon
me? Have I done something to offend you? Are you upset because I asked Maata to accompany you to Italy?”

  “No, although I’d like to point out that we would have been just fine on our own. And you haven’t done anything to offend me. It’s not you at all . . . it’s me.” I took a deep breath, dreading what I had to say. “Gabriel, I can’t have sex with you anymore.”

  “If you are worried about Magoth—” he started to say.

  “No, I’m not worried about him. Well, that’s not strictly true, I am a bit concerned about what he’s up to that he feels he can’t have Sally around to see. Not to mention why he suddenly gave your people the slip.”

  “I told you that I would find him again. You must have faith in the silver dragons—we might not have the innate tracking ability of the blue dragons, but we are not stupid. He cannot hide from us for long.”

  “I know you’ll track him down again, and I’m not worried in the sense you mean. This doesn’t have anything to do with keeping you safe from Magoth.”

  “Then what has caused this change in you?” he asked, a rough edge to his voice. “Yesterday, you could not get enough of me.”

  I was silent as I slowly straightened up. “That is the reason why, I’m afraid.”

  He frowned. “I admit to being completely confused. Your physical attraction to me is not a good thing?”

  “My physical attraction to you is a very good thing,” I corrected. “But my inability to control myself around you isn’t. Haven’t you noticed anything different the last couple of times we made love?”

  “Well . . .” He grinned. “You seem to have lost your ability to control my fire. And you seem a bit more . . . intense.”

  I brushed a tiny speck of dragon scale off my knee. “You had to have noticed the fact that I shifted into a dragon form.”

  “I did.” His grin faded when I didn’t answer it with a smile of my own. “Is that what is concerning you, little bird? The fact that you shifted? You bear a shard of the dragon heart. As I explained before, it is that which caused you to shift.”

  Something about his expression, some glint in his eyes, confirmed what I had suspected. “You liked it when I shifted, didn’t you?”

  “Very much so.” He leaned toward me, and even though he had no physical presence in the shadow world, goose bumps rippled down my arms at his nearness. “Shall I tell you a secret? Before I met you, I had never had sex with a human.”

  I gazed at him in surprise. “No humans? Not even immortals?”

  He shook his head. “Only dragon females. You were the first who was not. I found it a bit awkward to begin with, since you did not respond to any dragon signals, but now—yesterday morning will remain in my memory for a very long time.”

  My face froze in what I prayed was a blank expression; all the while my gut churned with misery.

  “That is why it pleased me so much a little bit ago when you initiated a mating dance. But I see now that the intensity of the experience frightened you. I promise that in the future, we will go slower, little bird. There is much I look forward to you learning about dragon ways, but you have an eternity to learn them. Do not fear I will rush you.”

  I dragged my gaze up to his, sick as it was driven home just how much he preferred a dragon version of me to the original. The question that remained was whether I was willing to allow the dragon shard to consume me. Gabriel certainly would have no complaints. Was it really such a big sacrifice? And wasn’t he worth it?

  “What is it?” he said suddenly in an annoyed voice. Immediately, he looked contrite. “My apologies if I startled you, Mayling. Tipene seeks my attention. I will return.”

  He faded away into nothing as he returned to his body.

  I contemplated remaining where I was, but I’ve never been much for introspective moping, no matter how overwhelming my problems seemed. I reminded myself that I was not Cyrene and, mentally girding my loins, returned to Gabriel’s suite.

  He was hanging up the phone just as I entered the living room, his face a study in resignation.

  “What’s wrong now?” I asked, quelling the need to rub my body against his.

  “It’s Magoth. We’ve found him at last.”

  “Why do I suspect I should not break out the champagne and doves just yet?”

  A wry little smile twisted his lips. “Perhaps because you know him too well. Magoth is in jail.”

  “Jail?” My eyebrows rose. “The watch nabbed Magoth? What on earth did he do to attract the attention of the L’au-dela?”

  “He is not being held by the watch,” Gabriel said, watching me carefully. “He was arrested in Paris by the préfecture and is being held at a station on the rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève.”

  “He’s been arrested by the mortal police?” I asked, aghast.

  “Yes. Apparently for indecent exposure.”

  I blinked a couple of times, unsure of what to say about that.

  Gabriel held my coat out for me. “And he’s asking for you to get him released.”

  I took the coat and tossed it onto a chair. “Are you crazy? I’m not going to help him get out of jail. This might not be the ideal method of keeping tabs on him, but at least if he’s being held by the mortals, he won’t be able to stir up who knows what trouble.”

  Gabriel picked up the coat again and slung it over my shoulders. “Have you forgotten Jian?”

  “Not in the least. Magoth probably won’t help us with the problem of finding Chuan Ren and getting her released.”

  “You don’t know that for certain,” Gabriel argued.

  He had a point, dammit.

  “I don’t like it,” I said, allowing him to push me toward the door. “There must be a way we can keep him in custody and still get assistance in the matter of Chuan Ren.”

  “I doubt if he’d agree to lend any aid without some in return,” Gabriel pointed out.

  “Well, there you are!” Sally said, bustling into the room with a large carrying bag. “You picked a fine time to do a disappearing act! Did you hear? Magoth is in trouble, and the poor dear needs our help. We have to get out to him on the double. He’s probably being tortured even as we speak!”

  I thinned my lips as Gabriel escorted us out of the suite. “Let’s take the scenic route to the rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève. Maybe a few thumbscrews and bamboo under the nails will make him more agreeable.”

  “May, for heaven’s sake,” Sally said, rolling her eyes as she hurried ahead of us to the elevator. “They don’t use thumbscrews and bamboo anymore. Now it’s all high-tech. They’ll probably attach a taser to his genitals or something.”

  She paused, looking thoughtful.

  “Somehow, I have a feeling Magoth wouldn’t consider that torture so much as foreplay,” I said, getting on the elevator, Gabriel and his two bodyguards following.

  “I admit, it does sound rather . . . intriguing . . . ,” she said, clearly lost in thought, only just managing to get into the elevator car before the doors closed.

  Unfortunately, the ride to the fifth arrondissement didn’t take that long, Tipene being familiar with the area. Twenty minutes hadn’t passed before I found myself standing in the police station, reading with interest a notice about an attached crime museum. “It says they have a real guillotine blade,” I told Gabriel. “I’d like to see that.”

  “A guillotine blade? Is there a torture section, as well?” Sally asked, pushing me aside to read the notice. “There’s nothing I love more than a good torture exhibit, unless, of course, it’s the actual practice itself.”

  “What say we have a quick tour before we have to see Magoth?” I suggested.

  A corner of Gabriel’s mouth quirked.

  “Madame Northcott? This way, please,” a pretty woman said, giving Gabriel a not-very-subtle eye before she turned and started down a hallway.

  “This is going to get old very fast,” I grumbled, taking his hand in a show of outright possession.

  He grinned, and tickled my
palm with his thumb.

  “My darling wife!” Magoth said when the policewoman opened a door to a small interrogation room, standing aside for us to enter.

  I stopped, glaring at him. “Do not call me that.”

  “Why not? You are my consort, my queen, my second in command . . . or at least fifth or sixth in command. I have a cadre of wrath demons who are above you, I’m afraid, but you’re definitely in the top ten. Possibly twenty.”

  I slid a worried glance to the policewoman. “I think that’s just enough about your cadre.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Why you insist we play these games when things could be so much easier . . .”

  “Magoth! Are you all right? Have you been abused in any fashion?” Sally asked, slipping around me to hurry to his side. “I don’t see any blood or even some bruising. Shouldn’t there be some blood? I expected there to be blood!”

  “I like how your mind works,” Magoth told her.

  She preened.

  I felt it was time to break up their admiration society. “What in the name of the spirits of sanity were you doing to be arrested for indecent exposure?”

  “Nothing at all,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hands. Someone had found him some clothing, a T-shirt and pair of jeans that weren’t his usual style, but he was incredibly handsome in them, regardless. “It is all a misunderstanding. I was visiting a quaint little fountain outside of a church, that’s all. No different from any other tourist.”

  “A church?” Sally asked, startled.

  I frowned. What was he doing near a church? Demon lords tended to avoid those places that were respected as holy ground, no matter what the religion. All too frequently sites were chosen because the ground was founded, or seeped in that quality that enhanced abilities that could be used against those of dark origins.

  “Monsieur was witnessed by a wedding party of two hundred, including three cardinals, and a papal legate, as he attempted indecent acts with a stone mermaid that sits on the top of the fountain,” the policewoman said, turning her attention on him.

  “Sins of the master,” Sally swore, looking at Magoth with something that looked very much like respect.