Fiat leaped off the bar and stormed over to Bastian, still blasting him with fire and Italian. He stopped long enough to call for his henchmen, pulling a gun from his jacket, which he leveled at Bastian.
“Most dragon establishments are heavily fireproofed,” I told my uncle. “They don’t need sprinklers.”
“Renaldo and Stephano won’t answer your call,” Bastian told his nephew. “They have been…detained.”
Fiat screamed even louder.
“Man, I haven’t heard language like that since Amaymon kicked me out of his legion. Fiat’s got quite the mouth on him,” Jim said, watching the dragons from behind the safety of my legs. “Go, Bastian! I never did like those two.”
“Do you think I am afraid of you?” Bastian laughed outright in Fiat’s face, causing the latter to turn an interesting shade of crimson.
“Bastian gets points for style, but boy howdy, I don’t think I could stand in front of a raving lunatic armed with a deadly weapon and mock him,” I said quietly as I helped Nora take off her still-smoking coat.
“And yet that’s pretty much just what you’re planning on doing,” Jim said. “Ash, I know you’re immortal and all, but I’m thinking you may want to get out of the line of fire until we see what shakes down.”
“I’m in complete agreement,” Uncle Damian said, taking me by the arm and pulling me over to a spot behind the bar. “Stay here.”
I would have protested being hustled out of the area, but given my present circumstances, I stood half-hidden by the wall and watched as Bastian and Fiat duked it out. The dragons in the bar had finally come to life at the appearance of Fiat waving the gun at Bastian. They formed a loose circle around the men, Bastian and his three buddies facing Fiat alone.
“The sept is mine, old man. Mine!” Fiat snarled. “And I do not allow disrespect in the sept, much less mutiny! You and Aisling may have thought you could get rid of me, but I assure you, I am in full control. And now you both will die for your treachery.”
“We are leaving,” Uncle Damian said, moving quickly to grab me and haul me toward the back rooms.
“No,” I said, grabbing onto the doorjamb and holding tight. “I can’t leave, uncle. Not until I see if Bastian is going to take down Fiat.”
“It’s too dangerous. That idiot dragon just threatened to kill you.”
Jim’s laughter was more a bark than a laugh. “Death threats are old hat to Ash.”
“They really are, you know,” I told my uncle, giving his arm a little squeeze. “People have been trying to kill me from day one, and I’ve survived, so really, a few wild threats from Fiat aren’t going to scare—”
The sound of gunfire exploded in the close confines of the pub. Uncle Damian knocked me against a wall, shielding me the way I’d shielded Nora.
“I’m all right, save her,” I yelled into his chest, pushing him back in order to make sure my friends weren’t being slaughtered.
Nora was crouched down behind the bar, peering over it with Rene.
I squeezed out to see what was happening. Two of Bastian’s company were on the floor, one male, rolling in obvious pain as blood stained the floor around him, the other a woman who was sobbing as she tried to rip off the man’s shirt to see how badly he’d been injured.
Fiat slammed Bastian up against the wall, holding him off the floor in an impressive display of one-handed strength. Another dragon stooped and picked up the gun from where Bastian had evidently knocked it from Fiat’s grasp. He looked unsure of what to do with it, holding it as if it were a toad about to spit warts.
Uncle Damian jetted past me, snatching the gun from the dragon before the latter knew what was happening.
“Uncle, don’t—” I started to say as Uncle Damian pointed the gun at Fiat.
“I believe I’ve seen enough,” he said, but before I could stop him, several of the surrounding dragons jumped him. He went down in a flurry of fists.
“Stop this right now!” I bellowed, leaping forward, drawing wards as fast as I could. Nora saw what I was doing and jumped into the fray, her hands flying as she bound the dragons to the floor, leaving them unable to move.
Rene jumped on top of the dragons who had piled onto my uncle, flinging them off until he was down to the Uncle Damian–flavored center.
“I have had enough!” I continued, turning a glare that warned of serious consequences on the couple of remaining unbound dragons. They backed off, with the exception of the woman named Marta. She snarled something and leaped at me with hands curved into claws. Jim broadsided her and knocked her backwards into a table. She went down with a clatter of chairs. I quickly bound her to the floor, then slapped an additional silencing ward on her to stop her stream of abuse.
I turned back to where Fiat was spitting Italian at his uncle, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of Bastian’s neck.
“You wanted me as a mate, well, fine, I’m your friggin’ mate, and I’m telling you to stop right now!” I yelled at Fiat, marching over to him.
“Aisling, stay away!” my uncle shouted.
Nora hastily drew a protection ward on me, hitting all four sides, the wards shimmering golden in the air for a moment.
I didn’t want to pull Fiat’s fire at all, didn’t want to feel it, didn’t want to use it, didn’t want to gain strength from it, since it was tantamount to betrayal of Drake’s fire, but I didn’t have time for the finer points of my feelings. I pulled hard on it and slammed the fire back into Fiat, not causing him any harm, but distracting him enough to release Bastian.
“Maiala,” he snarled at me, spinning around to face me.
“Yeah, whatever. Bastian, do it.”
Bastian got to his feet with the help of his remaining friend, his face mottled red, his eyes blazing a fury to match Fiat’s. It was almost like seeing some sort of a twin act when they were face-to-face—they really were remarkably similar in appearance, but there, thank god, the similarities ended.
“By the laws governing the illustrious sept of the blue dragons, I, Bastiano de Girardin Blu, wyvern by right of tanistry, do hereby issue a formal challenge of transcendence to Sfiatatoio del Fuoco Blu.”
Fiat laughed, a scary sort of near-hysterical laugh, the kind that screams straitjacket and lifetime supply of happy drugs. “You have tried to take the sept from me three times, old man, and failed. What makes you think you can do it this time?”
Bastian had challenged Fiat before?
“Oh, man, that doesn’t sound good,” Jim muttered.
“Yeah. He didn’t tell me he’d challenged Fiat before and lost.” Doubt entered my mind for the first time since meeting Bastian. I’d been so certain that all he needed was a helping hand to get out of his imprisonment, I’d never considered that perhaps Fiat was just too strong to be overthrown. If the overthrow failed…I shuddered at that unthinkable conclusion. “I do not want to think about what evil sort of punishment Fiat will have his sept work up for me if he beats Bastian.”
“It ain’t gonna be pretty, that’s for sure,” Jim said in a repulsively cheerful voice.
“I will succeed because I must,” Bastian said with much dignity in reply to Fiat’s comment, tugging down his shirt and dusting himself off. “It is true that you have managed to manipulate the circumstances of my challenges in the past, but this time, I am prepared for you.”
To my intense relief, Fiat’s anger had morphed into a wicked sort of amusement, still dangerous, but not explosive…at least for the moment. “You put too much faith in the power of my mate. She cannot help you. Do you not know? She is proscribed, banned by her own people, and far too stupid to understand the power she could wield.”
“Don’t fool yourself,” I started to say, but Jim stomped on my foot in warning. I shut up.
“This is not about your mate, although I understand the lady disputes your right to call her that,” Bastian said evenly. “This is between you and me. You will leave the others out of it.”
Fiat glanced at the three
dragons who had accompanied Bastian. The one he’d shot—whether by mistake or intentionally, I wasn’t sure—had evidently recovered from the bulk of the trauma and was sitting in a chair while the woman wiped blood off his stomach. The third man stood warily next to Bastian. “I need no others to aid me. But I have a long memory, a very long memory indeed, and I remember equally those who serve me well, and those who do not.”
The man next to Bastian edged away a smidgen, licking his lips nervously.
“As do I,” Bastian said.
“Name the form the challenge will take.” Fiat crossed his arms and tipped his head to the side, as though he was finding the whole thing highly entertaining.
Bastian smiled.
I fell for that smile just as I was sure Fiat did, for even though his dragon senses were more heightened than mine, he didn’t react when Bastian suddenly lunged forward, a black metallic item in his hand. There was a faint sizzling sound, followed by a crash as Fiat toppled to the floor, his body jerking violently. Bastian lurched over him, holding the black thing to his neck for another few seconds before stepping back.
“Taser,” Uncle Damian said as he took up a position be hind me. His left eye was swollen almost completely closed, blood dribbling from both his nose and lip, a nasty-looking welt seeping more blood from a spot on his forehead. He stood somewhat crooked, as if he couldn’t straighten up. “Effective but not lethal. Good man.”
“This is the challenge,” Bastian growled, jumping back from the still-twitching body on the floor before him. “You lose.”
The silence in the bar was of the stunned quality. I was just as taken by surprise as everyone else, gawking in obvious confusion as Bastian took a long, slow look at everyone in the room. “Make it known to one and all members of the sept that upon this day, I have taken my rightful position as wyvern by defeating Fiat Blu in challenge.”
I opened my mouth to say that that wasn’t quite how I understood challenges to take place, but snapped it shut with out uttering a word. Who was I to complain if Bastian used the same sort of dirty tactics that Fiat had used?
“Congratulations,” I said.
The dragons in the room looked at one another, those of them who weren’t bound to silence clearly unwilling to say anything.
I took a deep breath and mustered a smile as I faced them. “As mate to the wyvern of the blue dragons, I formally recognize you as wyvern, welcome you to the position, offer my good wishes for a lifetime of peace and prosperity, and am confident the members of the sept will do the same.”
The members of the sept turned their disbelieving gazes on me. Fiat twitched one last time, then went still.
Bastian came forward, his face still blotchy from the near throttling. He put a hand on my head and pushed down. Obligingly, I knelt before him. “Aisling Grey, I refute you as mate. You are hereby stripped of all rights and powers as such, and as of this moment, are expulsed from the sept.”
“Woohoo!” Jim said, doing a little happy dance. I knew just how it felt, but didn’t want to offend any of the blue dragons by celebrating my expulsion from their ranks.
“Thank you,” I told Bastian softly.
He nodded as I got to my feet. “It was the least I could do. I will never be able to fully express to you the full depth of my gratitude, but know that I am in your debt.”
“What are you going to do about him?” Uncle Damian asked, prodding Fiat’s body with the toe of his boot.
Bastian smiled again, a smile at once so similar to Fiat’s, and yet so different. “He’s had a hard time of it lately, don’t you think? He needs a rest. I know just the place where he will have nothing but quiet and peace, and time to contemplate his sins.”
“I’m glad you’re not going to…er…destroy him,” I said, hesitating to put into words my fear. “I don’t have any fondness for Fiat, but I’ve never been a proponent of the death penalty.”
“Liberal,” Uncle Damian scoffed.
“Politics has nothing to do with it. I just don’t think that a challenge should end in death.”
“I have seen too much bloodshed during my lifetime,” Bastian said, nodding. “I will not add to it unduly. Besides, there is a certain amount of ironic justice to be had in Fiat’s incarceration in the prison he created for me. I am certain that with time, he will appreciate that irony.”
“You better just hope no one rescues his butt like we did yours,” Jim warned, sniffling Fiat’s inert form. It cocked an eyebrow at me.
“No,” I told it. “We will be gracious in our triumph. No peeing on the loser.”
“Man, you’re just no fun anymore. How about the chick with the potty mouth?”
Marta’s eyes widened as Jim sauntered over to her.
I smiled.
19
“…perfect opportunity to pee on someone—which, let me tell you, doesn’t happen that often—and you go all ‘dignity at all costs’ on me. Sheesh. Like that Italian she-witch didn’t have it coming to her? A demon’s gotta have some fun, you know!”
“Aisling? Is that you?” Paula appeared at the door to Drake’s study, her hands on her hips, her lips compressed into a straight line.
“Uh-oh,” I said, offering her a weak smile. “Did I miss another appointment?”
“I don’t know why you told me to arrange a wedding for you if you refuse to attend any of the planning meetings! Honestly, Aisling, I’m at my wit’s end with you, and I’m this close to just washing my hands of the whole situation!”
“Oh, Paula, I’m sorry—”
“Do you know how many wedding planners I’ve been through in the last week? Five, Aisling. Five!”
I flinched. “I’m really sor—”
She tossed her hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how in demand these people are? Or what it costs to try to have a rush wedding?”
“No, but I’m sure—”
“The situation is intolerable!” she yelled, gesturing wildly as she paced a circle around me. “It’s only for the sake of your father and late mother that I’m still trying.”
“And I really appreciate it—”
She took a deep breath and pinned me back with a look that would have stripped paint off a battleship. “Since it’s obvious that you are not capable of handling even the tiniest of responsibilities, I have taken it upon myself to arrange a ceremony for you. It will be simple, just immediate family and whatever friends you still have.”
I sagged with relief. “That sounds fine, Paula. I know this hasn’t been easy on you, but there are mitigating circumstances—”
“There will be no reception. There will be no banquet, no dance band, no decorations.”
I tried to summon up a smile. It didn’t work. “OK.”
“If you had any conscience, any conscience whatsoever, you would return each and every wedding present you received from guests who took the time and effort to attend your first wedding.”
“Absolutely,” I said meekly, taking a couple of steps toward the stairs, wondering if I dared make a break for it.
She took three steps toward me, literally pressing me against the banister. “The wedding is scheduled for tomorrow at four p.m., in the office of the only individual in the whole of England who was willing to be bribed into making room for you. If you do not make this appointment, your father and I will leave immediately. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”
I nodded frantically. “Perfectly clear.”
She snorted as she gave me one last piercing glare, then turned on her heel and stalked back to Drake’s study.
As soon as the door closed, the one across the hallway opened. Drake peered out. “Is she gone?”
I nodded weakly and sagged against the banister. “She’s in your study.”
“I know. It seemed better to let her occupy it. She’s in a bit of a mood,” he said, coming over to me.
“That’s putting it mildly. She scared the crap out of me.” I transferred my limp form from the banister to him, wrapping
my arms around him as he tilted my head back to examine my face. “I think I need massive kissing to restore my strength. And then if you wouldn’t mind mating me again, I’d be very appreciative.”
“Jeez, Ash! Just ask him to boink you right in front of me!” Jim tried to look appalled, but failed.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I was simply trying to tell this handsome hunk of dragon that I am no longer the mate of the blue wyvern, and if he would be so kind as to offer me a lifetime of undying love, affection, and steamy, sweaty lovemaking, I’d be gracious enough to accept.” I nibbled Drake’s lower lip as I spoke the last bit, expecting him to sweep me off my feet and make mad, passionate love to me before offering me matedom.
Instead he looked troubled, his eyes more human than dragon. “I’m afraid it’s not quite as simple as that.”
“Why not? Is there some sort of re-mating ritual we need to do?”
Drake cast a quick glance at the closed door of his study and pulled me into the living room. “We will talk in here.”
“Oh, yeah, talk, that’s a new name for it. Hey! Don’t I get to wa—” Jim started to ask.
Drake shut the door on it.
“I’m getting a little sick and tired of people doing that!” it bellowed, audible even through the door. “Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings!”
I opened the door and narrowed my eyes at it.
“And I thought your stepmom was scary,” it muttered as it took itself off to another part of the house.
“All right,” I said, closing the door and leaning against it as I looked at Drake. “What’s the problem? Does the sept not want me back?”
“The sept would be delighted to have you back. They accepted you as my mate, and they will not forswear that allegiance.”
That warmed the cockles of my heart a bit. I slid my arms around him and bit his chin. “Then what’s the problem?”
His hands were warm on my derriere, his eyes shuttered. “The problem is that you are not available to be my mate.”
“Ah. I see the confusion is bogging us down. You didn’t know that Bastian beat Fiat and took over as wyvern. Well, he did, and his first act was to de-mate me, so I am, actually, available, and if you play your cards right, I can be yours.”