Holy Smokes
Page 53

Bastian smiled.
I fell for that smile just as I was sure Fiat did, for even though his dragon senses were more heightened than mine, he didn’t react when Bastian suddenly lunged forward, a black metallic item in his hand. There was a faint sizzling sound, followed by a crash as Fiat toppled to the floor, his body jerking violently. Bastian lurched over him, holding the black thing to his neck for another few seconds before stepping back.
“Taser,” Uncle Damian said as he took up a position be hind me. His left eye was swollen almost completely closed, blood dribbling from both his nose and lip, a nasty-looking welt seeping more blood from a spot on his forehead. He stood somewhat crooked, as if he couldn’t straighten up. “Effective but not lethal. Good man.”
“This is the challenge,” Bastian growled, jumping back from the still-twitching body on the floor before him. “You lose.”
The silence in the bar was of the stunned quality. I was just as taken by surprise as everyone else, gawking in obvious confusion as Bastian took a long, slow look at everyone in the room. “Make it known to one and all members of the sept that upon this day, I have taken my rightful position as wyvern by defeating Fiat Blu in challenge.”
I opened my mouth to say that that wasn’t quite how I understood challenges to take place, but snapped it shut with out uttering a word. Who was I to complain if Bastian used the same sort of dirty tactics that Fiat had used?
“Congratulations,” I said.
The dragons in the room looked at one another, those of them who weren’t bound to silence clearly unwilling to say anything.
I took a deep breath and mustered a smile as I faced them. “As mate to the wyvern of the blue dragons, I formally recognize you as wyvern, welcome you to the position, offer my good wishes for a lifetime of peace and prosperity, and am confident the members of the sept will do the same.”
The members of the sept turned their disbelieving gazes on me. Fiat twitched one last time, then went still.
Bastian came forward, his face still blotchy from the near throttling. He put a hand on my head and pushed down. Obligingly, I knelt before him. “Aisling Grey, I refute you as mate. You are hereby stripped of all rights and powers as such, and as of this moment, are expulsed from the sept.”
“Woohoo!” Jim said, doing a little happy dance. I knew just how it felt, but didn’t want to offend any of the blue dragons by celebrating my expulsion from their ranks.
“Thank you,” I told Bastian softly.
He nodded as I got to my feet. “It was the least I could do. I will never be able to fully express to you the full depth of my gratitude, but know that I am in your debt.”
“What are you going to do about him?” Uncle Damian asked, prodding Fiat’s body with the toe of his boot.
Bastian smiled again, a smile at once so similar to Fiat’s, and yet so different. “He’s had a hard time of it lately, don’t you think? He needs a rest. I know just the place where he will have nothing but quiet and peace, and time to contemplate his sins.”
“I’m glad you’re not going to…er…destroy him,” I said, hesitating to put into words my fear. “I don’t have any fondness for Fiat, but I’ve never been a proponent of the death penalty.”
“Liberal,” Uncle Damian scoffed.
“Politics has nothing to do with it. I just don’t think that a challenge should end in death.”
“I have seen too much bloodshed during my lifetime,” Bastian said, nodding. “I will not add to it unduly. Besides, there is a certain amount of ironic justice to be had in Fiat’s incarceration in the prison he created for me. I am certain that with time, he will appreciate that irony.”
“You better just hope no one rescues his butt like we did yours,” Jim warned, sniffling Fiat’s inert form. It cocked an eyebrow at me.
“No,” I told it. “We will be gracious in our triumph. No peeing on the loser.”
“Man, you’re just no fun anymore. How about the chick with the potty mouth?”
Marta’s eyes widened as Jim sauntered over to her.
I smiled.
19
“…perfect opportunity to pee on someone—which, let me tell you, doesn’t happen that often—and you go all ‘dignity at all costs’ on me. Sheesh. Like that Italian she-witch didn’t have it coming to her? A demon’s gotta have some fun, you know!”
“Aisling? Is that you?” Paula appeared at the door to Drake’s study, her hands on her hips, her lips compressed into a straight line.
“Uh-oh,” I said, offering her a weak smile. “Did I miss another appointment?”
“I don’t know why you told me to arrange a wedding for you if you refuse to attend any of the planning meetings! Honestly, Aisling, I’m at my wit’s end with you, and I’m this close to just washing my hands of the whole situation!”
“Oh, Paula, I’m sorry—”
“Do you know how many wedding planners I’ve been through in the last week? Five, Aisling. Five!”
I flinched. “I’m really sor—”
She tossed her hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how in demand these people are? Or what it costs to try to have a rush wedding?”
“No, but I’m sure—”
“The situation is intolerable!” she yelled, gesturing wildly as she paced a circle around me. “It’s only for the sake of your father and late mother that I’m still trying.”
“And I really appreciate it—”
She took a deep breath and pinned me back with a look that would have stripped paint off a battleship. “Since it’s obvious that you are not capable of handling even the tiniest of responsibilities, I have taken it upon myself to arrange a ceremony for you. It will be simple, just immediate family and whatever friends you still have.”
I sagged with relief. “That sounds fine, Paula. I know this hasn’t been easy on you, but there are mitigating circumstances—”
“There will be no reception. There will be no banquet, no dance band, no decorations.”
I tried to summon up a smile. It didn’t work. “OK.”
“If you had any conscience, any conscience whatsoever, you would return each and every wedding present you received from guests who took the time and effort to attend your first wedding.”