Fire Me Up
Page 77

"Aisling Grey." I looked up at the sound of my name. Rene stood before me in the headlights of the car, his hand extended to me. "Come along. The street is no place for you,"
I took his hand, clinging to the warmth of it, wanting nothing more than to throw myself into Rene's arms and beg him to take me to the airport so I could leave. "Drake betrayed me," I said.
He nodded. "I know what he has done. It is yet another bump in the road, hein?"
"No, Rene," I said, wiping the tears off my face with my sleeve. "This isn't a bump. It's a dead end."
"It seems that way, yes, but in time, I think, you will see things with the different eyes," he answered, getting into the front seat. Jim hopped up beside me, yanking the door handle with its mouth.
Rene didn't say anything else as he drove me to Margaret Island. I sat in silence, my thoughts so painful I couldn't stand thinking them, so I didn't. I pushed them all aside, idly watching the play of lights on the back of Rene's head. He was such a nice man. So unlike the people of the Otherworld. So normal.
I glanced down to where I my hand was clutching the jade dragon talisman. Alongside it was the crystal Venus amulet. "Why aren't you affected by the amulet, Rene?"
His head turned a little so he could see me in the rearview mirror.
"What?"
I looked down at the amulet again, then back to him. "Why aren't you affected by this? Every other mortal man is. Everyone except you and ..."
My mind snapped into place, just as if it had been dislocated and now pushed back into the proper position. One moment I was wondering why Rene wasn't affected by the amulet, the next I saw an image of Gyorgy, the other man who wasn't affected by it. Gyorgy the woodsman. Gyorgy the hermit, the man who seldom left his claimed spot of land, but a man who had admitted to being at the hotel.
Jacob's voice played through my thoughts. "When we take human form, we are as humans."
Gyorgy looked human to me. He felt human. But he smelled like a campfire—smoky.
I rubbed my head. No, that wasn't right. Jacob had named all of the other eleven incubi in his order. "Twelve brothers, twelve sisters..." I repeated, my eyes closing when I realized how stupid I'd been. "And one leader. The morpheus. That has to be Gyorgy. Mother Mary and all the saints ... Rene! Screw the traffic laws—get me to the hotel as soon as you can! I know who the murderer is!"
What was probably a ten-minute drive seemed to me to take aeons. By the time Rene pulled up in front of the hotel, I was shouting orders to Jim. "The final dinner has already started. You can run faster than me—go to the ballroom and find Nora or Monish. Tell them I know who the murderer is. Tell them to watch out for Marvabelle. And Tiffany, for that matter!"
Jim was off in a black flurry. I ran after the demon, Rene beside me as T raced down the stairs to the conference level. "You don't have to be here!"
"I am your friend. I will stand by you. You might need me as before, hein?"
"I will always need you, Rene." I leaped off the last step, haring down the long hallway to the double doors at the end that marked the main entrance to the ballroom,
I threw the door open, racing inside, praying that I wasn't too late. Jacob had said that the morpheus was the only one who did not need to be summoned to arrive— which meant he could attack anytime he chose. A group of people stood in a clutch before me, blocking my path. I shoved my way through them, scattering apologies behind me as I burst out into the center of the floor, cleared for the evening's presentation, and came to a skidding halt.
"Eh-." Kostich was at the podium, holding a piece of paper, reading a list of names into the microphone. He turned to look at me. I stared back at him, then slowly turned my head and saw that all two thousand of the Guardians, oracles, Diviners, Theurgists, and. Mages were watching me with hushed disbelief.
I realized at that moment that my brush with Drake's fire, subsequent race through the city, and occasional contact with vehicles as I rebounded off them had not left me untouched. The thin gauze dress I wore was dirty, smeared with oil and grime from the road, torn along one side where I'd caught it on the edge of a car, and scorched black on the hem. My hands were black with soot and dirt. My hair had come loose and was flying around in clumps. My nose was running from crying.
Regardless, I was a professional. I had a job to do, and I had just sacrificed any chance of happiness with Drake to do it. I straightened my shoulders, brushed a hand down my dress, and stepped forward.
Dr. Kostich backed away from the podium. I leaned toward the microphone. "Has anyone seen Nora Charles or Monish Lakshmanan?"
My voice echoed through the huge ballroom. There were several gasps that I put down to using full names. I shaded my eyes against the big spotlights that were on the podium, scanning the audience for sign of Monish or Nora. Two thousand disbelieving, shocked, horrified pairs of eyes stared back at me. "No one has seen Nora? Or Monish? Has anyone seen a demon in Newfie form, answering to the name of Jim?"
You could have heard a cricket snore in the room, so silent was it.
"Um. How about Marvabelle O'Hallohan? Is she here?"
Dr. Kostich, keeping his distance, said in a voice that jusl about made my blood freeze, "If you are quite through with this farce, we would be glad to continue announcing the apprentices who have been accepted by their chosen mentors."
"Oh. Sure. Sorry." I stepped away from the podium, relinquishing it to him. "Um ... I don't suppose my name is anywhere on that list?"
He just stared at me.
"Right. I didn't think so. Sorry to interrupt. I'll just go now."
I walked quickly to the back of the ballroom, worry about Gyorgy overwhelming the mortification I felt at embarrassing myself in front of a ballroom full of my peers. Or people I had hoped would be peers. I doubt if they'd had any such hope. Rene was waiting for me by the door, but before I could reach him an arm reached out to stop me.
"'Aisling, you look so very sad. Your eyes make me want to weep. You are having troubles?"
Tiffany, at least, was safe and sound. The people at the table hissed at us to be quiet as Dr. Kostich read out the next name on the list, Tiffany followed me to the door, smiling beatifically at Rene. "Good evening, Rene. Your eyes are not sad, I am happy to see."
"Have you seen Monish or Nora? Or Jim?"