Fire Me Up
Page 26

I smiled at everyone, a great big smile, while hissing awkwardly through my teeth at Drake, "Just how stupid do you think I am? Once Fiat gets his hands on the amulet, I'll never see it again,"
"He would not dare take it from you." Drake's breath was hot on my ear, sending little skittles of fire down my neck to shiver down my back.
My voice rose in indignation. The occupants of the table watched with fascinated interest as I pushed Drake away and pulled the amulet over my head, tucking it back down into my shirt before crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh, he wouldn't, huh? Just like you wouldn't steal my aquamanile and refuse to give it back?"
His fingers paused for a moment, then slid down my back in a gentle caress that did nothing to reassure me. "That is different."
"Really? How is it different?"
"You gave me the aquamanile. You said you trusted only me to keep it and the other Tools of Bael."
"I didn't give it to you. You took it. You stole it from me! I just let you keep it. There's a difference."
"I grow weary of this," Chuan Ren said, pushing her plate back. "Your mate shows much disrespect, Drake. Punish her, give Fiat the crystal, and let us get on with more important matters."
I bristled at her demand. "Now, just wait a second, sister—"
She rose up out of her chair, her eyes huge with outrage. "I am not your sister—"
"Mate, I must insist—"
"You want that salad, Ash? This diet is going to be the death of me—"
All hell broke loose at that point. Literally. It wasn't just the babble of voices as everyone at the table started talking at once, the indignant demands from Fiat and his boys that I hand over the amulet, or the screeching of Chuan Ren that signaled the opening of the portal to Hell. No, it was the sudden appearance in the middle of the table of a man in hot-pink fishnet stockings, matching leather corset, and turquoise feather tutu that let everyone know that something was seriously wrong.
"Fires of Abaddon, Ilarax, what are you wearing? Don't tell me you've gone transvestite!" Drake pulled me away as Jim put its front paws on the table and snuffled the demon's nearest leg. "Aw, damn, it's true. You've gone girly."
"What the—"
"Don't say it," Drake growled, clamping a hand over my mouth as he pulled me backwards to the relative safety of a pillar framed with palms. "Never say that word in the presence of an open portal."
"Guardian!" Chuan Ran shouted, pointing her finger at me. "Close this portal immediately!"
The demon in drag squawked, its voice shattering the water glasses on the table. From a shimmering area at its feet, dozens of tiny little pink and turquoise creatures burst forth, scampering over the table, leaping onto the chairs and the floor with tiny little eek-eek yips.
"Man, he's gone and tinted his imps to match his costume." Jim jumped off the table, shaking its head as it walked toward us. "Now that's the sign of a demon needing some serious therapy time."
"Imps?" I said. "You mean they're real? They're not some sort of weirdo Otherworld joke?"
"Do they look like a joke?" Drake asked, shaking a turquoise imp off from where it was gnawing on his shoelace. When the little creature made like it was going to return to his shoe, Drake narrowed his eyes and allowed a little smoke to trickle out of his nose. The imp squeaked in horror and ran to join a few of its brethren in an attempt to push a crystal glass off a nearby table.
"Do you want the honest answer, or the thoughtful and erudite one that I as a future Guardian would give? Jim! What in heaven's name are you doing?"
Jim's head whipped around to look at me, two tiny turquoise feet twitching between its lips. Jim gulped, ran its tongue around its lips, and blinked innocently. "What?"
"Bad demon! You're on a diet, and besides, it's not nice to eat imps! They're kind of cute even if they are a bit troublesome—" Three pink imps succeeded in knocking a water goblet over, dancing a happy little victory dance around the soggy tablecloth. One of them stopped in front of me, turned around, and bent over until its pointy little chin touched its knees. "Oh my god, did that little monster just moon me?"
"You were saying?" Jim asked, sucking its teeth.
"Guardian!" Chuan Ren bellowed. Two of her men were struggling with the demon, but it was clear to see that against the minion of Hell the dragons didn't have a lot of power. "Close the portal. Now!"
Drake gave me a little shove forward. "Perhaps it would be best if you do as she asks, Aisling. The imps are harmless, but who knows what will follow the demon?"
I looked at him as if he had imps dancing on his head.
"What? You're kidding, right? You don't actually expect me to close that portal?"
"That's going to stain," Jim said as one of Fiat's men stomped on an imp that was running toward him with a cocktail fork clutched in three of its four arms, scraping the turquoise smear off onto the ceramic pot holding a nearby palm.
"I realize you do not have much experience as a Guardian—" Drake started to say.
I interrupted him. "None. Try none. Other than summoning Jim and dealing with that demon lord last month, my experience with portals to you-know-where is exactly nil."
"Afene egye meg," Drake muttered.
"You can say that again, not that I know what you said, but the way you said it leads me to believe that you've captured my feelings in a few succinct words."
"It means 'damn it.' I thought you were being modest when you told me about your lack of skills," Drake said hurriedly, turning to bark out a few orders to Pal and Istvan before turning the others. "We will have to locate a Guardian quickly. Chuan Ren, you must keep the demon from leaving this room. Subdue it if you can, but at all costs it must be kept from leaving. Fiat, your men must stand guard at the portal to ensure nothing else enters. Gabriel and I will gather the imps before they do any real damage. Pal and Istvan will find a Guardian."
"What do you want me to do?" I asked as Drake's men ran past, out to the hotel proper. The look they gave me spoke volumes, and none of it was overly flattering.
"Stay out of the way," Drake answered, grabbing a tablecloth and throwing it on a fire a small herd of imps had started using lunch menus.