Fire Me Up
Page 39
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"Is it over?" Tiffany asked, white-faced, clutching her hands as she stood next to the taxi. "The demon Jim, it is..."
"Resting," I answered when her voice trailed off. I blinked back a couple more tears, this time of gratitude that Tiffany would be so concerned about a demon she'd just met. "The doctor thinks they got all the toxins out, but he said Jim would be out of it until tomorrow morning."
"That is very good," she said, taking my hand in hers for a moment. "Resting is very good for animals, is it not? The demon, it will recover its strength, and be back by your side to bring joy and happiness to everyone it meets."
I almost choked on the thought of Jim bringing joy and happiness to anyone, but smiled and said nothing, sitting in the back of the taxi, allowing Tiffany's terminally optimistic chatter to wash over me as we drove back into town.
It was only when Rene dropped us off at the hotel that I remembered I hadn't delivered the amulet to Gyorgy the hermit.
Chapter 14
The lunch banquet had just ended when Tiffany and I walked into the hotel lobby. She murmured something about needing to spend some time in the sun perfecting her tan.
"A day without the sun is like a day without a smile shared with everyone you see, and that is a tragedy, don't you think? I will practice my ice princess smile while I am on the verandah. Do you wish to join me?" she said, eyeing my pale, freckled arms.
"No, thanks. I've got appointments this afternoon, and besides, I burn easily. My smile will just have to be shared from the confines of a pasty, tanless body. Thanks for all your help today, Tiffany. I really appreciate it."
She patted me on the shoulder. "Did I not tell you that I would be of great use to you? Now you know the power of a professional virgin."
"It is an awesome thing to behold," I agreed, without one single quiver of my lips, which I thought was awfully darn good of me. Tiffany tripped off to her room. I checked the conference message board quickly in case either of the two Guardians with whom I had arranged interviews had begged off, but there was nothing for me.
As I approached the elevators, a familiar man passed me, pausing to say, "You will—"
"Stop it right there!" I yelled, interrupting Paolo the Diviner before he could cause any more trouble for me. People in the area turned to look at us. I lowered the volume of my voice, but kept my tone as mean as I could. "I have no idea why you've decided to become my personal voice of doom, but I would appreciate it if you would stop telling me that I'm going to trip, or spill stuff on myself, or be arrested, or any of the thousand other disasters I'm sure you behold in my future, because frankly, I don't want to know. OK?"
Paolo looked offended. His nostrils flared. He backed up a step, looking down his long nose at me, his lips pressed together tightly.
"I'm sorry to be so brusque," I said, realizing I had insulted him. "And I want you to know that I appreciate your concern for my well-being"—a little white lie never hurt anyone—"but I will take my chances with life on my own."
He said nothing, just raised a supercilious eyebrow at me.
"Thank you," I said, figuring that he might leave me alone if I thanked him for his effort. "Uh ... have a nice day."
Paolo continued to stare silently at me as I made a little good-bye wave and walked toward the elevator.
I got in it with three other people, all chatting about the delicious lunch served at the banquet. Paolo continued to stand like a statue, staring at me with cold, dark eyes.
The doors started to close, I heaved a mental sigh of relief that I had escaped his dire prognostications.
"—face one who wishes you gone," Paolo finished, triumph flashing across his face as the elevator doors closed with a soft swoosh.
"Like that's some sort of news flash," I muttered, smiling a toothy smile when the woman next to me cast a questioning glance at me.
It was odd walking down the long hotel hallway without Jim at my side. Since I had summoned the demon, just a little more than a month before, we hadn't been parted for longer than a few hours. Yes, it was a demon, and yes, it wasn't technically alive, but smart mouth, nagging tendencies, and demands for frequent feeding and walks notwithstanding, it was also my friend. I missed the big hairy galoot.
"My room is going to seem awfully empty without Jim taking up all the space," I said softly to myself as I slid the plastic key card into the slot on my door, opening the door with plans of a quick shower before I ran downstairs to meet with the two Guardians. "Hell's bells! Not again!"
The room was indeed emptier without Jim—extremely empty. Of all my possessions, that is. Everything of mine was gone—my suitcases, my clothing, Jim's paraphernalia, everything! It was as if someone had come in and wiped the room clean of me.
I turned on my heel and started for the front desk, growling to myself about what I was going to say to the police. "How dare they confiscate my things! It was bad enough in Paris when they took my stuff, but at least they mailed everything back to me a couple of weeks later. This time, I'm going to get pushy. I'll go straight to the U.S. Embassy and demand that they—in, Istvsin."
Drake's red-haired bodyguard gave me a stiff bow, his muddied hazel eyes as hard as stone. Istvan had never really forgiven me for a slight accident that resulted in him being mistaken by me for a dartboard. I couldn't blame him for being a bit testy over that, although I had apologized profusely at the time. No permanent damage had been done, but Istvan hadn't seemed to be able to move on. "I am sent to bring you."
I glanced at my watch. "It's only a little after one. Drake said the green dragon party wasn't until seven."
Istvan looked like a bodyguard. Both he and Pal were as tall as Drake, but where Drake was elegant and exuded a sense of coiled power held in check, Istv&n was blocky and thick-muscled, looking more like a cross between a bodybuilder and a linebacker. His heavy brows remained in a straight line as he glared at me. "You come. The wyvern commands."
"Oh, he commands me?" I was in no mood to go head-to-head with Drake, not when I had a police department to tackle, two Guardians to meet and sway with my perfectness for an apprenticeship, and a vast amount of worrying to do about Jim. Suddenly it seemed like too much for me so rather than get prickly and tell Istvan just where Drake could stuff his command, I nodded wearily and followed him silently to the elevator, saying nothing until he pushed open the door to the green dragon's suite.
"Resting," I answered when her voice trailed off. I blinked back a couple more tears, this time of gratitude that Tiffany would be so concerned about a demon she'd just met. "The doctor thinks they got all the toxins out, but he said Jim would be out of it until tomorrow morning."
"That is very good," she said, taking my hand in hers for a moment. "Resting is very good for animals, is it not? The demon, it will recover its strength, and be back by your side to bring joy and happiness to everyone it meets."
I almost choked on the thought of Jim bringing joy and happiness to anyone, but smiled and said nothing, sitting in the back of the taxi, allowing Tiffany's terminally optimistic chatter to wash over me as we drove back into town.
It was only when Rene dropped us off at the hotel that I remembered I hadn't delivered the amulet to Gyorgy the hermit.
Chapter 14
The lunch banquet had just ended when Tiffany and I walked into the hotel lobby. She murmured something about needing to spend some time in the sun perfecting her tan.
"A day without the sun is like a day without a smile shared with everyone you see, and that is a tragedy, don't you think? I will practice my ice princess smile while I am on the verandah. Do you wish to join me?" she said, eyeing my pale, freckled arms.
"No, thanks. I've got appointments this afternoon, and besides, I burn easily. My smile will just have to be shared from the confines of a pasty, tanless body. Thanks for all your help today, Tiffany. I really appreciate it."
She patted me on the shoulder. "Did I not tell you that I would be of great use to you? Now you know the power of a professional virgin."
"It is an awesome thing to behold," I agreed, without one single quiver of my lips, which I thought was awfully darn good of me. Tiffany tripped off to her room. I checked the conference message board quickly in case either of the two Guardians with whom I had arranged interviews had begged off, but there was nothing for me.
As I approached the elevators, a familiar man passed me, pausing to say, "You will—"
"Stop it right there!" I yelled, interrupting Paolo the Diviner before he could cause any more trouble for me. People in the area turned to look at us. I lowered the volume of my voice, but kept my tone as mean as I could. "I have no idea why you've decided to become my personal voice of doom, but I would appreciate it if you would stop telling me that I'm going to trip, or spill stuff on myself, or be arrested, or any of the thousand other disasters I'm sure you behold in my future, because frankly, I don't want to know. OK?"
Paolo looked offended. His nostrils flared. He backed up a step, looking down his long nose at me, his lips pressed together tightly.
"I'm sorry to be so brusque," I said, realizing I had insulted him. "And I want you to know that I appreciate your concern for my well-being"—a little white lie never hurt anyone—"but I will take my chances with life on my own."
He said nothing, just raised a supercilious eyebrow at me.
"Thank you," I said, figuring that he might leave me alone if I thanked him for his effort. "Uh ... have a nice day."
Paolo continued to stare silently at me as I made a little good-bye wave and walked toward the elevator.
I got in it with three other people, all chatting about the delicious lunch served at the banquet. Paolo continued to stand like a statue, staring at me with cold, dark eyes.
The doors started to close, I heaved a mental sigh of relief that I had escaped his dire prognostications.
"—face one who wishes you gone," Paolo finished, triumph flashing across his face as the elevator doors closed with a soft swoosh.
"Like that's some sort of news flash," I muttered, smiling a toothy smile when the woman next to me cast a questioning glance at me.
It was odd walking down the long hotel hallway without Jim at my side. Since I had summoned the demon, just a little more than a month before, we hadn't been parted for longer than a few hours. Yes, it was a demon, and yes, it wasn't technically alive, but smart mouth, nagging tendencies, and demands for frequent feeding and walks notwithstanding, it was also my friend. I missed the big hairy galoot.
"My room is going to seem awfully empty without Jim taking up all the space," I said softly to myself as I slid the plastic key card into the slot on my door, opening the door with plans of a quick shower before I ran downstairs to meet with the two Guardians. "Hell's bells! Not again!"
The room was indeed emptier without Jim—extremely empty. Of all my possessions, that is. Everything of mine was gone—my suitcases, my clothing, Jim's paraphernalia, everything! It was as if someone had come in and wiped the room clean of me.
I turned on my heel and started for the front desk, growling to myself about what I was going to say to the police. "How dare they confiscate my things! It was bad enough in Paris when they took my stuff, but at least they mailed everything back to me a couple of weeks later. This time, I'm going to get pushy. I'll go straight to the U.S. Embassy and demand that they—in, Istvsin."
Drake's red-haired bodyguard gave me a stiff bow, his muddied hazel eyes as hard as stone. Istvan had never really forgiven me for a slight accident that resulted in him being mistaken by me for a dartboard. I couldn't blame him for being a bit testy over that, although I had apologized profusely at the time. No permanent damage had been done, but Istvan hadn't seemed to be able to move on. "I am sent to bring you."
I glanced at my watch. "It's only a little after one. Drake said the green dragon party wasn't until seven."
Istvan looked like a bodyguard. Both he and Pal were as tall as Drake, but where Drake was elegant and exuded a sense of coiled power held in check, Istv&n was blocky and thick-muscled, looking more like a cross between a bodybuilder and a linebacker. His heavy brows remained in a straight line as he glared at me. "You come. The wyvern commands."
"Oh, he commands me?" I was in no mood to go head-to-head with Drake, not when I had a police department to tackle, two Guardians to meet and sway with my perfectness for an apprenticeship, and a vast amount of worrying to do about Jim. Suddenly it seemed like too much for me so rather than get prickly and tell Istvan just where Drake could stuff his command, I nodded wearily and followed him silently to the elevator, saying nothing until he pushed open the door to the green dragon's suite.
