Dragon Storm
Page 13

“Really?” Bee asked, giving him a little shake of her head. “I’ve never met anyone who is such an odd mixture of arrogance and naïveté.”
“If you have finished abusing me simply because I have an inquiring mind—”
“I’m abusing you because you kissed me without my permission,” Bee interrupted, poking him in the chest. “Don’t do it again.”
“I’ve never had to ask permission to kiss a female before,” he said, a little outraged at the idea.
“Well, you’d better get used to doing so, because if you try playing sucky-face on anyone else without first asking, you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of a foot to the crotch. Or worse.”
“I do not care for rough sex play,” Constantine said, adding as an afterthought, “with the exception of the use of restraints. Those can be quite titillating if they are used correctly.”
“Oooh, yes,” Gary agreed. “Silk scarves! Fur handcuffs! Those stretchy cords that people use to fling themselves off the sides of bridges!”
Bee shook her head again. “I don’t believe this day. The whole thing, from this morning right on down to the point where you locked your lips on mine. It’s all just a dream, isn’t it?”
“So romantic,” Gary said with a happy sigh.
“Perhaps I kissed you harder than I knew,” Constantine said, looking closely at Bee. “You seem to be a bit rattled.”
“I’m not rattled,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t want you to go any further!”
He looked down the alley. “It would not be wise to stay here.”
“No, I mean this.” She lifted their joined hands. “Did you not hear me mention that I wasn’t looking for a dragon lover?”
“Yes. I also heard you state that you were interested in finding a man.”
“Look, my romantic life, or lack thereof, is not of any importance. I’m simply saying I don’t want you trying to seduce me.”
“Oooh,” Gary said. “Seduction with manly hands.”
“One kiss does not a seduction make,” Constantine said abruptly, and assuming she had recovered from their enjoyable—if unexpected—kiss, he pulled her forward down the alley. “I’m simply holding your hand because it makes coordinating our movement easier if I can feel when you are about to start and stop.”
“Fine.” They walked for the count of twenty before Bee added, “Just so you don’t get any ideas about kissing me again.”
“I can’t help the bad opinion you have of dragons.” He paused at the end of the alley to glance up and down the street before continuing. “But I feel obligated to point out that I don’t need to force myself where I am not wanted. Now, if you are finished suspecting me of base motives—”
“I like base motives,” Gary said softly. “They can be oodles of fun.”
“—then I’d like to discuss what steps we should take next.”
Bee shot Constantine a look of disbelief. “I don’t know why you’re even asking what we should do, because the answer is pretty obvious to me. We need to get these shackles off, and then one of us has to go back into Abaddon to get that blasted talisman back.”
“I have the talisman,” Constantine said, taking in the population of the street with a couple of quick, assessing glances. There were a handful of people strolling the street, but since it was approaching the heat of the afternoon, many people were inside in air-conditioned comfort. But he saw no signs of demons.
“You do?” Bee shook her head. “I saw you give that… that thing back to Asmodeus.”
“It was a finger, not a thing,” Gary said. “You see, one day Asmodeus had a battle. I don’t know who with, although the demons said something about it being vampires, but I think they were just trying to scare me. Anyway, there was this battle, and his finger got lopped off—”
“You saw me give the finger to Asmodeus, but that wasn’t the only thing I took,” Constantine said, ignoring Gary.
Bee stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, gawking at him. “You have a talisman?”
“Yes.”
“Where? What is it? Show me.”
“Not here. We are too close to the entrance of the palace, and although the demons won’t come after us here, it would be best to not flaunt the possession.”
They started walking again, pausing when a passerby, an elderly lady in black, smiled gently at them both, then happened to glance at the birdcage.
“Good afternoon,” Gary said politely, and made a bob of the head that made Constantine believe that the knocker would have lifted his hat in polite greeting had he the requisite arm and hat.
The old woman shrieked, clutched a nearby light post, and began screaming in unintelligible Spanish.
Bee tsked, and peeled off her cotton sweater, which she threw over the cage with an apology to Gary. “Sorry, kid, we can’t have you attracting undue attention.”
“It’s okay,” Gary’s voice came from the cage, now slightly muffled. He sounded unusually subdued. “I know I’m a pariah. Unwanted by mortals. Unloved. Ill-kempt to look at…”
Constantine would have rolled his eyes at the dramatic statements issuing from the cage, but he prided himself on never having been an eye roller when he was formerly alive, and wasn’t about to start it now. “Do you know Seville at all?” he asked.
“Me? No, not a bit. I entered the palace in Paris. I don’t know how we got to Spain,” Bee said, glancing around with curiosity.
“There’s a Paris entrance?” Constantine stopped at a corner. “I wish I’d known that. I was only told about this entrance.” He glanced back toward the house that was the mortal world manifestation of the palace, hesitating for a few seconds. “I wonder if we shouldn’t go back.”
“Are you kidding?” Bee worked her hand free, and took a handful of Constantine’s shirt, tugging him after her as she hurried around the corner. “You’ve got the talisman! Why should we go back in and risk capture again?”
“For a number of reasons. For one, it would be easier to get to Paris via a door in the palace than having to attempt to fly there while shackled together.”