Light My Fire
Page 1

 Katie MacAlister

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“Just leave everything to me.”
“Famous last words, Ash. Your record hasn’t been too good so far, has it?”
The burly black shape in front of me that tossed the words over its furry shoulder didn’t stop, but I did, frowning. Jim, my demon in Newfoundland dog form, might not be Little Mary Sunshine, but it didn’t normally say things that it knew were deliberately cruel.
Around us in GreenPark, people were flaked out in the rented park chairs or lying on the ground sunbathing, everyone happily enjoying the English September sunshine... everyone but my crabby demon.
“I have, if you haven’t noticed, been rather busy these last three weeks getting moved from Oregon to London. But I said I’d find someone to dremel your toenails, and I meant it. There have to be dog groomers in England who grind away nails with a dremel rather than clip them.”
“That last woman you took me to was nothing more than a butcher,” Jim snapped, marching forward with enough force to get me moving again. “I’m lucky I have all my toes. Minus the two you enchanted away, that is.”
“I said I’m sorry fifteen times already—I’ll say it for a sixteenth if it gets you out of this grouchy mood. I’m sorry she nicked your quick and made your toenails bleed. And that other toenail issue is so two months ago.”
“Too little, too late,” was the grumpy answer.
“Right.” I stopped near a tree that was relatively private. “That’s it. I’ve put up with your snarky comments the last couple of weeks because I know that transitions like the one we’re making aren’t easy for anyone. Lord knows I’ve heard nothing but horror stories from my family about Americans living abroad, but I expected better from you, Jim. You like Nora! You were looking forward to coming here. Why are you being so unpleasant about everything now?”
Jim turned to face me. I hadn’t thought it possible for a Newfie’s face to look sour, but Jim had pulled it off. “My heart is broken, in case you’ve forgotten! You shouldn’t have, since you’re the one who stomped all over it.”
“Oh, that.” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, stiff with tension.
“Yes, that.”
“Well, I know it’s no substitute for a corgi, but you’ve got a dog for companionship. You’ve got Paco now.”
“Paco isn’t a dog. Paco is a snack.”
Secretly, I agreed with Jim. Nora’s Chihuahua was nice enough but was a little light in the character department. Then again, Jim could have ruined me for all normal dogs. “I told you I’d take you to Paris to see Amelie and Cecile just as soon as I know .. .” The words trailed off to an awkward stop.
“As soon as you’re sure that Drake is gone; yes, I know. But since he lives there, that’s not likely to be for a long time, now, is it? And Cecile isn’t getting any younger. I’d like to see her before she’s dead, my lord.”
I sighed again, leaving the slight shade of the tree to brave the crowds filling the park. During the four days I’d been in London, I’d learned to avoid the edge that borders Buckingham Palace. It was always packed with tourists, and the last thing I needed was for one of them to notice that the dog who marched so determinedly in front of me was speaking. “I hate it when you call me that, but we both know you know that, so I won’t humor your bad mood by arguing about you trying to get in a few ‘you’re a demon lord now, Ash’ digs. And since you’ve apparently forgotten, I’ll remind you that Drake also has homes in Hungary and the Cayman Islands, and probably a couple other places that never came up during our short time together.”
“Short because you walked out on him. Again.”
I ground my teeth. The park was too public a place to have it out with Jim. Nonetheless, I lowered my voice and whispered with as much threat as was possible, “I am not going to discuss my relationship with Drake.”
“Ha! Relationship. Is that what you’re calling it now? You two get together; you break it off. You get together again; you agree to be his mate; you take an oath of fealty to the sept; you get pissy; you leave him. Doesn’t sound like much relationship is going on there.”
Now, that stung. Jim knew full well the circumstances of my breakup with Drake. It had even agreed with me at the time that Drake had pulled a nasty on me and that I was fully justified in walking away from him.
“Demon, I command thee to zip thy lips until you get over your case of the grumps,” I said instead of the gazillions of snappy comebacks that I knew would occur to me hours later. “I’m not going to defend myself or my actions. We’re here, we’re going to stay here, and I’ll get you to Paris just as soon as I know the coast is clear. I’m sorry if that’s broken your heart, not that demons have a heart to break, but it’s the best I can do. Now, if you’re done watering everything, let’s get back to the apartment. Our stuff should be arriving today, and I want to get everything put away before Nora comes back from Liverpool.”
Jim glared at me over its shoulder for a moment, but one of the fringe benefits of being a demon lord was that a demon in my control couldn’t disobey a direct command, so we had a silent trip as we headed back to the three-room apartment that Nora had inherited from an elderly relative. Located above a chic combination bakery and bookstore, the apartment was a rare find in a city of overpriced, undersized housing.
“After I get the stuff unpacked, I’ll call Amelie and let you talk to Cecile if you like,” I said as we skirted a group of tourists gawking in an expensive shop’s window. We took advantage of a break in traffic to hurry across the street. “Not that you deserve it. Honestly, Jim, you’re just about the most aggravating demon I’ve ever had the pleasure to—bloody hell!”
I jerked Jim back as a black taxi ignored the laws regarding pedestrians in a crosswalk and screeched to a halt just millimeters away from my demon.
“That sounded very English. You are adapting well, yes?”
The oaths that I was about to crack over the idiot driver’s head dried up on my lips as I peered through the window at the man behind the wheel. His voice was smooth, thick with a French accent... and very familiar.
“What. .. who ... Rene?”
“Mais oui C’est moi. Good morning, Jim. You look well. Did you have any trouble getting through customs?”