Light My Fire
Page 70

“I’m damned forever.” I wanted to cry at the look of regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to use it, I really didn’t.”
“I know, kincsem. Your heart is pure. But you cannot risk tainting it, and that is what will happen if you continue down this dark path.”
Beyond us, the two men fought, Dmitri grunting a little as Fiat danced around him.
“I only want to fix things,” I told Drake.
“You wish to destroy Dmitri.” Drake shook his head. “You have not used the dark power for anything harmful, but this is different. It is dangerous. I cannot allow you to do that. You must trust that in this, I am right.”
I almost smiled. There was my bossy dragon, telling me what I could and could not do.
He is wrong. How can using power for good be dangerous?
I pulled my hands from Drake’s, releasing the power, letting it wash from me. I felt weak but righteous, understanding at last what Drake was saying. He was right. I couldn’t use power to destroy someone. Banishing a demon lord couldn’t in any conceivable light be considered bad, but destroying someone for my own gain was entirely different.
“All right, I’ll trust you. But it’ll be a cold day in Abaddon before I’m his mate,” I said loudly, nodding toward where Dmitri was trying to block a punch from Fiat.
The latter stopped. “I’m in complete agreement.”
Before our stunned eyes, Fiat pulled out from his pocket a small gun and shot Dmitri in the face.
24
“Funky eyes and tears of blood aside, you’re looking a bit odd,” Jim said.
I dragged my gaze from the form of Dmitri spread out on the floor, a pool of blood beneath his head, to my demon. I was literally struck speechless.
Not so Jim. “Stuff always happens around you. Never a dull moment and all that. It’s better than TV.”
I shook my head, trying to clear my befuddled mind. There was just too much to take in.
“Gabriel?” Drake asked, nodding toward Dmitri’s body.
“If his brain is destroyed, we won’t be able to bring him back to consciousness,” Gabriel answered, taking a step toward Dmitri.
“No,” Fiat answered, holding up a hand that stopped Gabriel in his tracks.
The latter didn’t like that. “Fiat, stand down.”
“I think not. You made an excellent point. Dmitri could well recover from a single bullet to the head.” Fiat glanced down at the man at his feet for a few moments, then cold-bloodedly shot him a couple more times.
I screamed and lunged forward to stop him, but Drake’s hand shot out and caught my arm, reeling me back in until I was flush with his body.
“That, I believe, will dispense with any question as to whether or not Dmitri is still wyvern.” Fiat bowed to Drake, who stood stiffly beside me. “You have your sept back. I hope you do not abuse it again.”
“You shot Dmitri!” I all but yelled, unable to believe my eyes.
Fiat’s attention turned to me. His face wore its usual pleasant, unperturbed expression, as if nothing at all untoward had happened. “I believe the evidence would be impossible to deny, cara.”
“You just up and shot him!”
Gabriel directed a narrow gaze at Fiat, walking around him to kneel next to Dmitri. I turned my head away, sick both physically and at heart over what had happened, feeling as if for some reason, the fault for Fiat’s actions lay directly on my shoulders.
“Yes, I did. You may thank me for saving Drake’s sept for him.”
“Thank you!” I exclaimed, outraged.
“Yes, thank me for returning to Drake that which he would not have regained without a battle,” Fiat snapped, his blue eyes icy with disdain.
“You forced him to sacrifice the sept in the first place!” I shouted.
“There are powers at work here that are beyond your comprehension,” he answered. “Do not make judgments.
In the end, Drake has back what he lost. Well. . . almost all. I assume now that Dmitri is incapable of serving as wyvern you will claim the post again?”
“Yes,” Drake answered, his voice steady. I could feel the tension in him, however.
Fiat inclined his head. “I trust your people will have no problems in accepting you in the role again.”
“Drake will always be our wyvern,” Pal said, his voice filled with pride. “The sept loves him.”
“Indeed. Lucky sept, then, to avoid the power struggle that would have ensued had Dmitri retained his position.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why did you go to all the trouble of kidnapping me, poisoning me, almost making me a vegetable, to put Dmitri in power, only to effectively kill him a few minutes later? Why, Fiat, why?”
“Lusus naturae,” Drake said slowly, his eyes on Gabriel as the healer bent over Dmitri’s unresponsive body.
Gabriel looked up, his normally light eyes shaded and disturbed.
“Odd,” Drake said in a distracted tone, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I always assumed it would be you who challenged for my mate, not Fiat.”
“I intended to,” Gabriel said, avoiding my eyes. I stiffened, my hands fisted. How dare he? “But after last night, when you told me Aisling would be having a child, I changed my mind.”
“Is there anything you can do for Dmitri?” I asked him, deciding I couldn’t deal at that moment with the implications of his statement.
“No, I’m sorry. There is too much damage to the brain. He will live, but he will not be”—Gabriel gently touched the side of Dmitri’s face—”cognizant.”
Retribution can be yours, the voice said.
I ground my teeth, holding back both hot-tempered words and the bile that was raised by the violence of the day.
Revenge these sins.
I leaned into Drake to absorb some of his heat, turning away from the persuasive voice within me.
Right the wrongs.
“I will not do it!” I shouted out loud, startled by the sound.
Everyone in the room looked at me.
“Whoa, meltdown warning,” Jim said, its voice flip, but concern visible in its eyes. “Everyone may want to stand clear.”
I ignored Jim to glare at Fiat. There had to be a way to do this without using the dark powers.
“I spoke with a demon lord today. Two, as a matter of fact. I thought they were the coldest, most evil sentient beings I’d ever met, but I was wrong. You are, Fiat. And if there is any way I can bring you to justice for the crimes you have committed today, I will do so.”