Holy Smokes
Page 50

“Gah!” I yelled at it. “One more mention, just one more mention of your toes, and I’ll see to it you don’t have any left to complain about!”
“See?” it asked Nora. “She’s all evil and stuff. She never used to be that way. The dark power is warping her brain.”
Nora stifled a smile and asked me, “What exactly do you expect will happen here?”
“Despite what Jim thinks, I’m well aware that it’s likely to be a trap of some sort,” I said cheerfully as I entered the pub, taking a quick look around its interior.
“Ah. A trap. Sounds fun,” she said, looking brightly around the room.
Rene sidled up to me from where he’d been sitting at the counter, his furtive manner so pronounced it attracted the attention of everyone sitting nearby. “I have scooped out the pub. It is clean.”
I stifled the urge to giggle at his attempts both at subterfuge and idiom, instead nodding gravely and thanking him. “Where’s Uncle Damian, by the way?”
“I do not know,” Rene answered, a little frown pulling down his brow. “We split up before entering the pub. He asked me to check the rear of the building before we entered. I did that, but by the time I came into the pub, he was nowhere to be seen.”
“Hmm. He’s probably hiding somewhere, being all stealthy and stuff. He lives for that sort of thing.” I allowed my purse to fall, turning around quickly to fuss with it for a minute while covertly surveying the room. It was a typical pub in most respects, with the usual arrangements of small round tables scattered around the bulk of the floor, the walls lined with tables and wooden settles, a jukebox, low timbered ceiling, various glowing neon liquor signs…and there wasn’t a single visible human in it except for Nora and me. “At least we were right about this having something to do with the blue dragons.”
“Yes, but which dragon is it who summoned you? Fiat or Bastian?” Rene asked.
“We’re prepared for the worst, and we’ll hope for the best. Jim, I don’t suppose it’s much good asking you if you sense any danger?”
“Oh, yeah, serious danger,” it answered, watching a dragon walk past bearing a couple of glasses and a plate of appetizers. “As in, I’m in serious danger of starving to death unless you order something to eat.”
I stepped forward and everyone in the pub turned into statues. “Hello. I expect some of you know who I am.”
The publican was a dark-haired dragon with the most startling blue eyes I’d ever seen, framed with thick, lush black lashes. He set down a glass in front of a waiting dragon and inclined his head. “You are the pretender.”
I cleared my throat. “The pretender? As in, pretending to be a blue dragon?”
He nodded.
“Ah. Well, that’s a bit of a long story, but the upshot is that as nice as you guys are, I’m not Fiat’s mate by choice. You are aware of that, aren’t you?” I asked, suddenly worried that the blue dragons might think I was slighting them without any due cause.
A woman emerged from a back room, her resemblance to the first dragon marking her as some sort of a relation. A look of dislike swept over her face as she recognized me.
“What are you doing here?” she growled, setting a wooden crate on the counter.
“Marta,” the man said, putting his hand on her arm as if to stop her from vaulting over the bar. “It is not wise. You do not wish to anger him.”
She spat out a word that I had no difficulty translating, although I thought it best to overlook it. “I do not fear Fiat. And I will not treat his whore with respect.”
“Whoa now,” I said, recoiling from the venom in her voice. “I had a feeling you guys weren’t happy about me being in the position of mate to your wyvern, but as you must all know, I am only here because he tricked Drake and me. I dislike Fiat more than I can politely express, and I certainly am not having any sort of illicit relations with him—”
“Cara! What a pleasant surprise. You did not tell me you were coming to visit.” Fiat’s voice cut across mine, the man himself oiling his way out of an all-but-invisible door set into the far wall of the pub.
He tried to take my hands, no doubt to kiss them. I put them on my hips instead, and leveled a glare at him. “I thought it might be you. The next time you want to see me, I’d appreciate it if you could leave your name and the nature of the event, so I know whether to bring Drake, or my über–protection team.”
Fiat’s gaze moved from me to Rene and Nora before returning accompanied with a brittle smile. “Cara, you abuse me for no purpose. I did not request your presence here today, if that is what you are implying.”
“You didn’t?” I looked around the room, as if the answer would be found in one of the closed, hostile faces that watched me so closely. “Well, there’s obviously been some sort of a mix-up. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“As if I could find your so-charming presence a bother,” he said, snagging one of my hands and pressing a wet kiss to my wrist.
The woman behind the bar exploded in a fury of Italian. I leaned toward Rene and murmured, “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”
His eyes were round as he watched her evidently chastise Fiat. “This woman, she is most brave. I cannot imagine someone speaking to a wyvern the way she does. It is most hot.”
Fiat evidently thought so, too, because he listened to her for about ten seconds, then slapped her so hard, her head snapped back.
“Hey!” I yelled, leaping forward.
Rene grabbed my arm as I raised it to draw a ward on Fiat. “Aisling, that is not wise, either,” he said in a low tone.
Fiat’s eyes spat blue anger at me as he spun around to face me. “You dare raise your hand to me, mate?”
“I do not tolerate abuse of women, in any form,” I snapped, shaking off Rene to stalk forward. “I don’t happen to be horribly fond of this woman, but I will not allow you to smack her around in front of me.”
“You challenge me in front of my people?” he asked, stepping closer so that we stood toe-to-toe, the threat very evident in his voice and body language.
“No, I do not challenge you,” I said, trying to keep a hold on my temper. That was a lie, of course—I wanted nothing more than to smite him where he stood.