“I am eleven hundred years old,” he snarled, jerking hard on the steering wheel as he sent us spinning out of the intersection. “I don’t need a mundane license to drive!”
“We’re doomed, I tell you, doomed!” Jim wailed.
“That is a pedestrian crossing!” I yelped as Baltic came close to mowing down two elderly ladies and their little wheely baskets of shopping.
“I did not strike them,” Baltic said, his tone injured. “You make too much of a few near misses, Ysolde.”
I looked back. One of the little old ladies was staggering to the zebra crossing barrier, her hand to her chest, while the other was making an extremely rude hand gesture at us. “Right, that’s it. Pull over.”
“Why?”
“When my fabulous form is crushed and burned into an unrecognizable blob of goo, would you please tell Aisling so she can summon me back?” Jim asked.
“Oh, be quiet. We’re not going to d—Baltic!”
“What now?” he snarled, his teeth gritted and his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he drove in a serpentine fashion down the road, ignoring the blaring horns, anatomically impossible suggestions, and shrieks of horror.
“This is a one-way street!” I bellowed, leaning forward over the seat to try and wrap my arms around Brom in a desperate attempt to protect him from imminent death.
“I’m only going one way!”
“Yes, the wrong waiiiiiiiiieee!”
“Wow.” Brom’s voice came from the depths of where I had him smashed against my chest. “That really is your nipple. What’s that mark near it?”
“Stop looking at my boobs!” I roared as Baltic, in blatant disregard of the fact that he was driving against traffic, and indeed was now up on the sidewalk scattering pedestrians hither and yon, turned to see just how badly I was popping out of the corset top.
“You will not be purchasing garments from that shop again,” he said sternly. “I do not approve of this belief you cherish that exhibition games will arouse me. They do not.”
“Pull over!” I screamed, pointing to a parking lot.
He pulled over, the sounds of horns, crumpling metal as cars avoided him but ran into parked vehicles, and breaking glass following us to the car park.
The second we stopped I was out of the car, marching around to the driver’s side. I yanked open the door and pointed at the backseat. “I will drive!” I said, daring Baltic to defy me.
He glared, his eyes narrow slits of obsidian. “You are impugning my ability to drive a vehicle, mate. You will cease doing so, and get back into the machine.”
“Please,” Jim whimpered from the back. “Let her drive. I don’t know how many more magnificent forms I can find.”
My glare turned into a thing of fulminating beauty.
“Very well,” Baltic said with haughty graciousness as he got out of the car. He stared pointedly at my chest. “But you must stop showing everyone your breasts. I realize that your rebirth has caused you to develop odd sexual preferences, but I will not tolerate my mate exposing herself to all and sundry. If you wish to display them, I and I alone will be your audience. You must resign yourself to this, mate.”
“Oooh,” Jim said, sitting up straight. “What sorts of odd sexual kinks other than flashing nip do you have, Soldie?”
“I am not exposing myself to anyone!” I said, then looked down and saw I was doing just that. I tucked my right breast back into the shirt, saying, “Well, dammit! I don’t normally do that! And I don’t have odd sexual preferences, so you can just stop whatever suggestive comment you were about to make, Jim.”
“I was just going to ask if it involved sticks of butter or cloven-hooved animals,” it answered.
“You cannot deny the overriding desire you harbor to watch Pavel with—”
“Gah!” I yelled, wanting to tear out my hair. I slapped my hand over Baltic’s mouth, instead.
“Who’s Pavel? And what does she want to watch him do?” Jim asked, leaning forward over the front seat.
I glared at it for a second as I slid behind the steering wheel. “Get in,” I told Baltic.
He crossed his arms. “I will not share a seat with a demon.”
“Hey! I can hear you!”
“I’ll sit with Jim,” Brom said, giving me a considering look as he scrambled into the backseat.
“There, you see? My son is kindly allowing you to ride shotgun.”
“My son,” Baltic said, giving me another of his patented annoyed looks.
“What?”
“He is my son. By rights he should be, and you said you wanted me to treat him as such, so I am doing that. I claim him as my son. You, Bram—”
“Brom,” my child corrected him.
“You will cease being the offspring of the usurper who stole Ysolde from me. You are now my son.”
“OK,” Brom said, not the least bit ruffled by that idea.
“There, you see? I have fixed things,” Baltic told me.
“Lovely. Great. Wonderful. I’ll get you a Dad of the Year T-shirt later. Can we get going now? I hear police sirens, and if we don’t get out of here now, we’re going to have a whole lot of explaining to do.”
“Yeah. Demon- napping is a federal offense now, I hear,” Jim said as Baltic got into the passenger seat.
It was a very long ride back to Baltic’s house.
“What are we doing here?” Brom asked as I stopped an hour later. He peered out the window at the white house.
“We’re going to be staying here with Baltic.”
“For how long?”
“Until I can rebuild Dauva,” Baltic replied as he got out of the car. The door to the house opened, and a man emerged. “Ah. Pavel is back. Good.”
I looked over the roof of the car to the man I recognized from my dreams. He started down the steps toward us, stumbled when he saw me, and stared with huge eyes. “Is that . . . it cannot be . . . is it?”
“Yes,” Baltic said, marching over to me in order to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me into his side. “My mate lives.”
“So do I, no thanks to Baltic’s driving,” Jim said as it peed on the back tire. “Nice place. Can I go home now?”
“No,” I said, digging my elbow into Baltic’s ribs. Brom was watching us with fascinated eyes.
“Aisling’s going to open a serious can of whoop-ass on you when she finds out what you did, you know,” Jim told me. “And bodacious boobies or not, I’m not going to stop her. I was supposed to go to Paris today to see my beauteous Cecile, and now I won’t be able to suck her ears or snuffle her butt or lick her belly or any of the things I wanted to do.”
Brom transferred his gaze to Jim, equally fascinated.
“You bared your breasts to the demon, too?” Baltic asked with outraged eyebrows.
“No, of course I didn’t! I’ve told you several times now that I have no desire, fantasy, or other urge to bare anything to anyone, least of all my breasts. I have never, ever deliberately showed my breasts. So please stop insisting that’s all I can think of. It just doesn’t happen, OK?”
Pavel, Jim, and Baltic all eyed my cleavage.
I looked down, swore, and hiked up the neckline yet again. “Gah!”
“We are going to have a long discussion regarding these sexual fantasies of yours,” Baltic told me, tugging me toward the house.
“I do not have an exhibitionist fantasy!” I yelled.
“What’s an exhibitionist?” I heard Brom ask Jim.
I spun around and sent the demon a look that had it grinning. “It means someone who likes shopping at small boutiques,” it said.
“One step out of line, demon, and I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“Or you’ll what?” it asked, tipping its head to the side.
Before I could answer, Baltic paused and shot laser beams from his eyeballs. Well, all right, not really, but the effect was the same. Fire blossomed in a circle around the demon, causing it to dance and yelp.
“
Cool,” Brom said, looking with speculation at Baltic.
“All right, all right! Call off your wacko boyfriend! I’ll behave!” Jim tried to blow out flames that licked up its tail. “Not the package! Anything but the package!”
“See that you do behave,” Baltic said, extinguishing the fire with a flick of his eyes. He turned to Pavel and spoke in a low tone of voice, the latter casting periodic glances my way.
I sighed to myself and pulled out my cell phone as we all entered the hall. “I suppose I should tell Aisling that you’re with me, Jim, and all right. It wouldn’t be fair to make her worry you’d been kidnapped by someone who meant to destroy you.”
Jim made a face. “Yeah, well, about that . . .”
“What?” I asked when its voice trailed to a stop.
“Normally I wouldn’t worry, because as soon as Ash realized I’d been demon-napped, she could summon me back to her, but she’s not going to realize I’m gone. Well, she is, but not. If you get my drift.”
“Not in the least. What are you babbling about?”
Jim sighed. “My ride to the airport was due when you showed up. Suzanne probably thought that’s where I went. I told you I was supposed to go to Paris.”
“Ah, well,” I said, not too worried about Jim’s missed trip. “I’m sure you can go another time.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” Brom suddenly said, giving the hall a good long look.
“Why not?” I asked, worried that he had gotten the wrong impression from Baltic’s possessive hold on me. Or rather, the right impression, but without an explanation that would help him understand the complex relationship that even I wasn’t sure I completely grasped.
“I want to go back to Gabriel’s house, where I have my lab set up.”
Baltic whirled around. “What is this? My son does not prefer the house of the silver wyvern over mine.”
“Gabriel told Brom he could use a room in the basement to perform his experiments. He likes to mummify things.”
“I’m a mummologist,” Brom told Baltic.
“The silver wyvern gave you a room?” Baltic’s eyes narrowed. “You are my son. I will give you . . .” He thought for a moment. “I will give you an entire building. There is a barn to the north—you may use that.”
“Cool,” Brom repeated; then his face fell. “But all my stuff is at Gabriel’s house. My natron, and my dehydrator, and my dead fox, and everything else.”
“I will give you new things. Better foxes, better natron.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Do you even know what natron is?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, blithely waving away the question. “But the natron I give to my son will be the best quality.”
“If you want to dump Gareth for Baltic, I wouldn’t mind,” Brom whispered to me, clearly enjoying Baltic’s determination to outdo what he thought of as a rival.
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him with a little flick of my fingers to his ear.
Pavel made a little bow to me. “I am pleased to see you again, Ysolde. It has been a very long time. You have not changed at all.”
Baltic said something in that language I didn’t understand.
Pavel looked a bit startled, shooting me a look that I had a hard time deciphering as I answered, “It certainly has. And thank you.”
Pavel gave Baltic a little nod and took off into the depths of the house.
“Brom, why don’t you and Jim go outside and look around,” I said.
“OK. We can look at the barn. I wonder if there’s anything dead in it. . . .”
“Weird kid you got yourself there,” Jim said over its shoulder as it followed Brom out the front door.
“Just see that you mind your manners,” I warned it. “And don’t try to escape, because you won’t like how Baltic deals with pests.”
“There is some business I must attend to,” Baltic said, pulling out his phone.
“What sort of business?” I asked somewhat suspiciously. “Dragon business? Because if so, I want to talk to you about that.”
“No, mundane business.”
“You mean human-type business? I had no idea dragons did that sort of thing.”
He shrugged. “Most of my fortune was claimed by others when I died. It takes some time to rebuild that, and since I will need a good deal of funds to restore Dauva, I must deal with business affairs.”
“Oh. I wish I could give you some money, but I don’t make very much as an apprentice, and Gareth funds us from the yearly manifestations. So I’m pretty much broke.”
“I do not seek fortune from you, mate. Only your love.”
I glanced down the hallway as Pavel crossed from one room to another. “Er . . . does Pavel live here with you?”
“Of course. He is my oldest and most trusted friend. He survived when the others did not.” Baltic paused in checking his phone messages and slid me a glance. “Are you sure you do not lust after him?”
“Dammit! How do you know what I’m thinking? Are you a mind reader, too?”
He sucked in a huge breath, approximately a quarter of all the air in the house. “You do lust after him!”
“No, I do not! For heaven’s sake, Baltic! I don’t give a hoot about him, not in that way. I was just a bit curious about whether or not . . . oh my god! You didn’t! Oh! You did! I can see by that expression, you did! You told him about me and my fantasy about guy-on-guy action, didn’t you!”
Mollified, Baltic ceased seething at me and punched in a number on his phone. “Yes. He said you could watch the next time he has a male lover over.”
“Oh! I can’t believe”—I whomped him on the arm—“I can’t believe you told him that! I am going to die of embarrassment! I will never be able to look him in the eye again! I’m never going to forgive you! How could you do that to me!”
Baltic just looked at me, waiting.
“Do you think he’s going to have a guy over soon?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He frowned. “I don’t know. You shall have to satisfy your lustful ways upon me until he does, and even then, you may watch only, not participate. And you will not bare your breasts to Pavel or anyone else.”
I gave him a look that should have shriveled his testicles. “I have no desire to have an orgy! All I said was that sometimes it was a bit interesting!”
“So you say,” he muttered darkly, heading for a room I assumed was his study.
I swore under my breath at the obstinate, jealous, infuriating man, and wondered which of my male acquaintances I could hook up with Pavel.
Chapter Twelve
The day was as dark and damp as my mood, the smell of snow heavy in the air. Bright Star, my mare, moved restlessly beneath me as we waited at the foot of the hill, watching as a line of men and horses wound its way in and out of the woods, moving toward us like a massive centipede.
Baltic rode at the lead, as he always did, without a helm, his hair lank from the misty rain, straggling over his mail like inky fingers.
“What are you doing out of the keep?” he yelled when he emerged from the last of the forest that surrounded Dauva.
“I came to greet you.” My gaze passed from him to count the number of dragons who followed. It was a much smaller number than had set off, no more than a quarter returning. Sorrow, these days a constant companion in my belly, gripped me painfully. “You did not stop Constantine?”
“No.” It was just one word, but in it was the full measure of despair that bound Baltic so tightly. His eyes were as bleak as his expression, flat, and without any hope. His shoulders were bowed, as if he were yoked to a great weight. “He comes for you, chérie. He is only a day behind me, less if he did not rest at night.”
I shook my head, unable to believe it. “Why is he doing this? He knows I love you. He knows I want only you. I would never remain with him even should he take me from you.”
He reached me, his stallion’s head hanging as low as my spirits. The horses and men looked exhaus
ted, clearly at their limit of strength. I knew Baltic would have pushed both hard.
“Why?” Baltic gave a hoarse bark of laughter. “He believes he can sway you, turn you against me.”
“He’s wrong,” I said, urging my mare around so that we rode into the bailey together.
“He has sworn that if he cannot have you, I shall not.”
I glanced at him, startled by the pain lacing his voice.
“Yes, my love,” he said, taking my hand in his. His gauntlets and bracers were stained brown with blood. “He has threatened to kill you if he cannot steal you from me, this one who professes his great love for you.”
“He is a fool,” I said grimly, the dull thud of hooves on the dirt the only sound.
Baltic noticed the silence. He lifted his head, glancing around. “Where is everyone?”
“I sent them away.”
He looked at me for a moment, his eyes so stricken I wanted to crush him to my bosom and comfort him. Slowly, he nodded. “Why let others suffer for my folly?”
I said nothing until I had him inside, arranging for the two remaining maids to bring water for a bath. Pavel, silent and filthy with blood and dirt, helped me remove Baltic’s armor.
“I’ll send one of the maids to help you,” I told Pavel as he gathered up the discarded mail.
His lips twisted in a wry half smile as he bowed and closed the door quietly behind him.
“It’s over, chérie,” Baltic said, slumping into the chair before the fire. “Constantine will win. He will take Dauva, take you, and I will die.”
I knelt before him, my hands on his knees, sliding up his legs to take his hands in mine. “Then I will die, too. For I will belong to no one but you.”
“I would rather you lived,” he said, a faint smile coming to his lips, but there was no humor in it. “I would rather we both lived.”
“There has to be a way we can stop this, stop Constantine. He has all but destroyed this sept.”
“There are only eighteen of us left,” Baltic said in a voice stripped of emotion.
“Dauva is strong. We will survive,” I said, refusing to give in to the despair that tainted the air around us.
“It is strong, but with time, Constantine will find a way in. We can hold it only so long with only a handful of men.” Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked about the chamber. “Where is Kostya?”