You Slay Me
Page 43

"Five hundred!" Drake snorted.
I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. "Four hun-dred?"
"I am exactly three hundred and eighty-nine years old, although I have been told that I don't look a day over two hundred."
I smiled at the outraged expression on his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend. You're right—you don't look that old. I'm surprised that you're so young, though. You're just a widdle bitty baby dwagon, aren't you?"
"Hardly that," he said with another disparaging look.
I strolled over to admire a fabulously detailed ivory-and-ebony-framed dartboard. The darts in it were hand-painted with ornate dragons, trimmed in gold, each one fletched with peacock feather flights. "Pretty. Do you play?"
"Extremely well."
I put the dart I was examining back in its ivory socket. "Darts seem a little tame for a dragon almost four hun-dred years old."
"Any game can be made exciting if the stakes are right," he answered, waving me toward a chocolate-colored leather sofa.
"I suppose so. Are you sure Jim is going to be OK with your minions?"
"They're not minions—they are members of my sept. And your demon will be fine with them," he answered as he sat next to me, one arm snaking out to haul me up to his side. I thought of protesting the possessive move, but the truth was, I enjoyed being snuggled up next to him. And as long as I had to interrogate him, I might as well be comfy, right? Right.
I hadn't noticed much during the trip to Drake's house after having ralphed up my guts in the street, but once I arrived, I couldn't help but be impressed once more with just how fabulous his house was. Drake sent Jim off to the kitchen with Pdl and Istvdn, his two red-headed bud-dies who I gathered also served as some sort of body-guards, both of whom Jim immediately began ingratiating itself with.
"So, let's get right down to the negotiating."
Drake looked like he was going to say something, but inclined his head toward me instead.
"First, the ground rules: You answer my questions, however many I want to put to you, honestly and com-pletely. You agree to help me discover who the murderers are of both Mme. Deauxville and the Venediger. Once we find that out, I tell you where you can find the Eye of Satan."
"Lucifer."
"There's a difference?"
Drake sipped his drink. "One of semantics, perhaps. Names—"
"—have power. Yeah, yeah, so I've gathered. Do you agree to the rules?"
He set down his glass, pulling me close. His breath was warm on my cheek as he nuzzled my jaw. "Do I have a choice?"
"Lots of them," I said, squirming, although whether it was to get away from him or closer to him was not quite clear in my mind. That thought, however, made me curi-ous about something. "What… uh … what exactly did youdo with the virgins?"
"What virgins?" he asked, his hand sliding up my thigh.
"The ones you said you missed so much," I answered, stopping the hand before it could slide under my tunic. There would be no touchy-feely business while I hid the Eye of Lucifer in my bra.
He pulled back a couple of inches, unexpected amuse-ment making his eyes dance. "Unfortunately, by the time I was born, very few villages were offering up virgins as a sacrifice."
"Really? What did they give you instead?"
He glanced toward a cabinet that held a variety of jew-eled daggers.
"Oh. Ah. Well, I suppose gold and jewels and valu-ables are better than a virgin any day, eh?"
'That depends on the virgin." he answered, his hand trying to slide under mine.
"Sorry, gropage isn't part of the rules," I said, firmly pushing his hand away. "Do you agree to the terms?"
He sighed and sat back, his fingers trailing down my bare arm. I shivered at the heat that just his fingertips could generate. "Very well, although I must warn you, I do not like my women dominant."
1 snorted at that comment (which was all it deserved) and settled in to get serious. "Right, let's begin with Mme. Deauxville. What were you doing there?"
Drake sipped at his drink, stalling as long as he could before he answered. "I told you that the Venediger hired me. I was at Mme. Deauxville's to fulfill the duties that I was hired for."
I pinched his wrist. "We'll be at this all night if you an-swer all my questions that evasively. Now, spill."
He frowned at me. "It does not come easily to me, this interrogation. I am the wyvern of the green dragons. I am not a person to be treated thusly."
"You're also arrogant, domineering, and sexy as all-get-out, but that doesn't change the rules. You agreed to answercompletely."
Emerald fire burned hot in his eyes. "You push me too far, Guardian."
I smiled and flicked my tongue across the tip of his nose. "I haven't evenbegun to push you, dragon. Now let's get on with it."
A tiny wisp of smoke drifted out of one nostril. Drake's jaw was so tight, I was surprised he could talk
at all, but talk he did. "I was hired to retrieve the Blood of Lucifer from Mme. Deauxville. I arrived early, having been misinformed about the time you were due to deliver the aquamanile. When I arrived, she was dead."
Without thinking, I laced my fingers through his, rest-ing our joined hands on his thigh. "Hmm. If you didn't kill her, who do you think did?"
He tossed back the remainder of his drink. "I assumed the Venediger did. Bafamal was one of the demons he frequently used. The murder had all the signs of being his handiwork, but for one thing."
"What was that?" I asked, my thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand.
"He would never have spent the money he agreed to pay me to do a job he intended on doing himself."
"Oh, yeah, I see your point. So who do you think killed her?"
"I have no idea." His green eyes turned to me. "I had rather thought you would be able to tell."
I grimaced. "I couldn't. When I tried to figure out who drew the circle beneath the Venediger, the gazebo caught on fire." I frowned, remembering the powerful feeling of controlling Drake's fire. "Why was I able to feel your fire when you weren't with me?"
His gaze flickered to the side. "You are my mate. One of the abilities of a mate is to channel fire."