You Slay Me
Page 14
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"Actually, I'm not really a—"
"Well, that was interesting. Feelie, you're not going to believe what the V told me about that imp outbreak in Versailles." A woman who was clearly Ophelia's identi-cal twin (but with shorter hair) grabbed a nearby chair and swung it around to our table, setting her glass of white wine down and flashing me a bright smile. "Hello, I'm Perdita. You're a Guardian? Pleased to meet you."
"This is Aisling, Perdy. She's American, and she closed up a portal."
Perdita looked over the rim of her wineglass with frank astonishment. "You didn't! Goddess above! I don't think we've ever met a Guardian of your sort of caliber."
"Oh, I can just about guarantee you that," I said with a laugh, and would have cleared up the misunderstanding (just whatwas a Guardian?) but at that moment a tall, handsome, green-eyed dragon-snatching … er… dragon walked into the club. I stood up, waving away the waitress who came over to take my order. "Oh, he is going to beso sorry he ever tangled with me!"
"Who?" both Ophelia and Perdita asked, craning their heads to see who I was glaring at.
"A very nasty man with light fingers," I growled, grabbing the handbag I had purchased after my long nap. "His name is Drake Vireo."
Perdita started to stand up, but gave a yelp at my words, hurriedly sitting back down.
"Drake?" Ophelia asked, her eyes huge. Both sisters grabbed my arm as I started past them. "Goddess help you!"
Perdita tugged at my sleeve. "Aisling, you don't want to mess with him. He's bad news, very bad news. He's the green dragon's wyvern, you know."
"I know," I said, giving them both a smile. It was nice to feel that someone was in my corner… whatever that would end up being. "But he doesn't scare me. Much."
"But…" Perdita glanced at Ophelia, then back to me, her voice a hushed whisper. "What do you want with him?"
"He stole something of mine," I answered. The sisters just stared at me. I remembered what Amelie had said about the green dragons being thieves. Evidently no one was surprised by the news that Drake had robbed me. I straightened my shoulders, patted Perdita's hand until she released my sleeve, and said, "Don't worry—I'm not going to do anything stupid. I'm just going to make him give it back."
I thought their eyes were going to bug right out of their heads as I stormed off to the far curve of the bar, where Drake stood with his back to me as he chatted with two redheaded men.
"Well, if it isn't Puff the Magic Dragon," I said to Drake's back. I didn't speak loudly, but the second the words left my mouth, a hush fell over the entire club. Even the music stopped, as if by magic.
And what a discomforting thoughtthat was.
Drake's shoulders stiffened at my words. He slowly turned around, his eyes shining with a brilliant green light in the smoky darkness of the club. Figuring a best de-fense was a strong offense, and not wanting to admit that all of a sudden everyone's warnings about wyverns were scaring the bejesus out of me, I took a step forward and poked him in the chest. "You have something of mine, Drake. I want it backNow."
"Aisling." His voice was just as wonderful as I re-membered it, deep and rich, and as soft as velvet brush-ing against my skin. I shivered at the undiluted effect of it at close range. "I had not expected to see you here."
I pulled myself together enough to give him a dis-gusted snort. "I'm sure you didn't. I want my aquamanile back"
His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared. The air of dan-ger that surrounded him—so palpable, I could almost touch it—thickened. The people surrounding us surrepti-tiously moved back several paces as if they were expect-ing trouble. I wished I could join them. I felt as if it were high noon, and I'd just stepped into the main street of Tombstone, my trusty six-shooter at my side.
His voice swept over me again, deep with warning. "You are a very good actress. I actually believed your act earlier. I shall not make that mistake again."
I lifted my chin, my insides quaking. I was about to pick a fight I knew I couldn't win. Sometimes I truly am an idiot. "It wasn't an act. I've had a very informative day. I've learned about dragons and Guardians and imps and faeries, but all that is irrelevant. I want my dragon . back, Drake. We both know you have it. So, for that mat-ter, do the police. If you don't want me to call them up and tell them where to find
you, you'll give it back to me."
A smile flirted with his lips. Dangerous lips, I reminded myself as my heart started beating faster. He might be a dragon, he might be someone whose name in-stilled fear in other people, but boy howdy, he sure turned my crank. "Are you by any chance threatening me?"
I lifted my chin even higher. "Only if you intend on making things hard."
His gaze raked me as he took in the pretty poppy dress. "Things are already hard, sweetheart."
My knees almost melted at the double entendre, but I stiffened them and reminded my libido that he was a thief who had cruelly stolen my aquamanile and left me at the mercy of the gendarmes. "I doubt you're going to die from hauling a little wood," I said, purposefully misin-terpreting his statement. "Let's stick to the point, shall we? You have my dragon. I want it back."
"I am immortal, Aisling—I cannot die. You, however, are refreshingly mortal." As he spoke, his fingers slid around my neck until his hand was gripping me in. a hold that was borderline strangling.
The silence in the club was so thick, you could have cut it with a piece of toast.
"You can huff and puff and breathe fire on me all you want, Drake," I said, my voice hoarse as his fingers Jslowly squeezed the air from my windpipe. I kept my chin up, my gaze firmly on his. "I'm not going to back down. I am not afraid of you."
"No? We shall see about that, shall we?" He moved closer, and every nerve in my body screamed a warning, but I just stood there as he pulled me to him, his arms hard as steel behind me, his mouth swooping down to claim mine. One part of my mind protested the fact that he was kissing me in full sight of everyone in the bar; the other part felt a moment of fear flare to life as I under-stood the true relationship between a dragon and his fire.
Heat burst through me the second his lips touched mine, the flames of his desire scorching me, licking along my skin until it started infernos within me. Pinpricks of sweat formed along my brow and spine as his fever consumed us, wrapping me in a searing cocoon of fire that stripped the air from my lungs. His tongue touched mine, and the heat that swept through me started to boil my blood. My flesh caught fire. Smoke from my body and the incan-descent shimmer in the green eyes before me obscured my vision. I was dying, burning from the inside out, Drake's fire setting every atom within me alight.
"Well, that was interesting. Feelie, you're not going to believe what the V told me about that imp outbreak in Versailles." A woman who was clearly Ophelia's identi-cal twin (but with shorter hair) grabbed a nearby chair and swung it around to our table, setting her glass of white wine down and flashing me a bright smile. "Hello, I'm Perdita. You're a Guardian? Pleased to meet you."
"This is Aisling, Perdy. She's American, and she closed up a portal."
Perdita looked over the rim of her wineglass with frank astonishment. "You didn't! Goddess above! I don't think we've ever met a Guardian of your sort of caliber."
"Oh, I can just about guarantee you that," I said with a laugh, and would have cleared up the misunderstanding (just whatwas a Guardian?) but at that moment a tall, handsome, green-eyed dragon-snatching … er… dragon walked into the club. I stood up, waving away the waitress who came over to take my order. "Oh, he is going to beso sorry he ever tangled with me!"
"Who?" both Ophelia and Perdita asked, craning their heads to see who I was glaring at.
"A very nasty man with light fingers," I growled, grabbing the handbag I had purchased after my long nap. "His name is Drake Vireo."
Perdita started to stand up, but gave a yelp at my words, hurriedly sitting back down.
"Drake?" Ophelia asked, her eyes huge. Both sisters grabbed my arm as I started past them. "Goddess help you!"
Perdita tugged at my sleeve. "Aisling, you don't want to mess with him. He's bad news, very bad news. He's the green dragon's wyvern, you know."
"I know," I said, giving them both a smile. It was nice to feel that someone was in my corner… whatever that would end up being. "But he doesn't scare me. Much."
"But…" Perdita glanced at Ophelia, then back to me, her voice a hushed whisper. "What do you want with him?"
"He stole something of mine," I answered. The sisters just stared at me. I remembered what Amelie had said about the green dragons being thieves. Evidently no one was surprised by the news that Drake had robbed me. I straightened my shoulders, patted Perdita's hand until she released my sleeve, and said, "Don't worry—I'm not going to do anything stupid. I'm just going to make him give it back."
I thought their eyes were going to bug right out of their heads as I stormed off to the far curve of the bar, where Drake stood with his back to me as he chatted with two redheaded men.
"Well, if it isn't Puff the Magic Dragon," I said to Drake's back. I didn't speak loudly, but the second the words left my mouth, a hush fell over the entire club. Even the music stopped, as if by magic.
And what a discomforting thoughtthat was.
Drake's shoulders stiffened at my words. He slowly turned around, his eyes shining with a brilliant green light in the smoky darkness of the club. Figuring a best de-fense was a strong offense, and not wanting to admit that all of a sudden everyone's warnings about wyverns were scaring the bejesus out of me, I took a step forward and poked him in the chest. "You have something of mine, Drake. I want it backNow."
"Aisling." His voice was just as wonderful as I re-membered it, deep and rich, and as soft as velvet brush-ing against my skin. I shivered at the undiluted effect of it at close range. "I had not expected to see you here."
I pulled myself together enough to give him a dis-gusted snort. "I'm sure you didn't. I want my aquamanile back"
His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared. The air of dan-ger that surrounded him—so palpable, I could almost touch it—thickened. The people surrounding us surrepti-tiously moved back several paces as if they were expect-ing trouble. I wished I could join them. I felt as if it were high noon, and I'd just stepped into the main street of Tombstone, my trusty six-shooter at my side.
His voice swept over me again, deep with warning. "You are a very good actress. I actually believed your act earlier. I shall not make that mistake again."
I lifted my chin, my insides quaking. I was about to pick a fight I knew I couldn't win. Sometimes I truly am an idiot. "It wasn't an act. I've had a very informative day. I've learned about dragons and Guardians and imps and faeries, but all that is irrelevant. I want my dragon . back, Drake. We both know you have it. So, for that mat-ter, do the police. If you don't want me to call them up and tell them where to find
you, you'll give it back to me."
A smile flirted with his lips. Dangerous lips, I reminded myself as my heart started beating faster. He might be a dragon, he might be someone whose name in-stilled fear in other people, but boy howdy, he sure turned my crank. "Are you by any chance threatening me?"
I lifted my chin even higher. "Only if you intend on making things hard."
His gaze raked me as he took in the pretty poppy dress. "Things are already hard, sweetheart."
My knees almost melted at the double entendre, but I stiffened them and reminded my libido that he was a thief who had cruelly stolen my aquamanile and left me at the mercy of the gendarmes. "I doubt you're going to die from hauling a little wood," I said, purposefully misin-terpreting his statement. "Let's stick to the point, shall we? You have my dragon. I want it back."
"I am immortal, Aisling—I cannot die. You, however, are refreshingly mortal." As he spoke, his fingers slid around my neck until his hand was gripping me in. a hold that was borderline strangling.
The silence in the club was so thick, you could have cut it with a piece of toast.
"You can huff and puff and breathe fire on me all you want, Drake," I said, my voice hoarse as his fingers Jslowly squeezed the air from my windpipe. I kept my chin up, my gaze firmly on his. "I'm not going to back down. I am not afraid of you."
"No? We shall see about that, shall we?" He moved closer, and every nerve in my body screamed a warning, but I just stood there as he pulled me to him, his arms hard as steel behind me, his mouth swooping down to claim mine. One part of my mind protested the fact that he was kissing me in full sight of everyone in the bar; the other part felt a moment of fear flare to life as I under-stood the true relationship between a dragon and his fire.
Heat burst through me the second his lips touched mine, the flames of his desire scorching me, licking along my skin until it started infernos within me. Pinpricks of sweat formed along my brow and spine as his fever consumed us, wrapping me in a searing cocoon of fire that stripped the air from my lungs. His tongue touched mine, and the heat that swept through me started to boil my blood. My flesh caught fire. Smoke from my body and the incan-descent shimmer in the green eyes before me obscured my vision. I was dying, burning from the inside out, Drake's fire setting every atom within me alight.
