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Witchling

Page 29

Delilah looked at me. I nodded. She reached down and grabbed Georgio by the elbow, helping him up. As he tried to smooth his wannabe chain mail, she helped him shake out the armor. Chase had reached us by then, and as he reached for his gun, I shook my head.

"Not a good idea," I said, giving a little jerk of my head in Smoky's direction.

Smoky took a long look at Chase and flashed him a wide, beguiling smile. "How do you do. You must be—?" He let his voice drift. It was a charming voice, an inviting one, one that made you want to spill your guts to the person speaking.

Chase started to open his mouth, but I grabbed his arm and yanked him off to the side, reaping an "Ouch" for my troubles.

"I'm sorry, I know you must still be hurting, but trust me, you do not want to give that man your name. And whatever you do, don't address any of us by name in front of him. Remember the dragon we were talking about? Welcome to his world."

"Dragon?" Chase's look changed from confused to Oh God, not again.

"Yes, I said dragon. And a powerful one at that. Smoky may look all man, but trust me, under that gorgeous hunk of man flesh is a pure, fire-breathing dragon. And if he learns your name, he can use it to control you."

Chase glanced at Smoky, then back at me. "Gorgeous, huh? He doesn't look like a dragon, although I'll admit he has an arrogant enough stance to him."

"Yeah, well, an hour ago he was big enough to squash your house."

"You mean dragons can change shape into humans?" He groaned. "Oh great, so I may have talked to a dragon say… oh… twenty years ago and never known it?"

"That about sums it up," I said. "Though most of them don't make a point of meandering through the city streets chatting up humans. They tend to… well… to eat them instead. Or enslave them."

Once again he flashed me a dry smirk that held just enough fear behind it to tell me that Chase believed me. "Say," he said, so casually that I knew he was putting up a front. "You don't think Delilah thinks he's cute?"

I repressed a snicker. "Chase, dude… get real. Do you drool after supermodels? Heidi Klum? Tyra Banks?"

For once he blushed and stared at the ground. "Uh… uh…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. So just deal with the fact that Smoky's a supermodel to the Faerie world. Gorgeous, sexy, and as alpha-male as you can get. He makes Trillian look like a Boy Scout, and trust me, that's hard to do." Once again, the thought of my Svartan lover hanging between life and death choked me up, but I managed to push the thought to the side. Grief later. Take care of business now.

Chase grimaced. "Okay, okay. So, who's the dude on the ground?"

"Georgio Profeta, our mysterious visitor who had the picture of Tom Lane in his notebook. By the way, we've found out something about Tom. He's actually Tam Lin of legend. He was ensnared by the Faerie Queen's spell centuries ago and has been living a series of well-planned lives since then, though he doesn't remember who he was originally or how old he is."

"Oh, this is just getting better and better," Chase said, groaning. "So he's like some sort of Highlander character?"

I frowned, then understood the reference. A movie that Chase had recommended some time back. Delilah and I'd watched it but had been relatively unimpressed except by what a great voice Christopher Lambert had.

"Well, not exactly. Tom's not going to end up ruling the world, and he's not immortal, though he's probably one of the oldest humans on record, thanks to some well-timed nectar of life."

"Nectar of life?" Chase's eyebrows did a little dance. "We really have to have a long talk at some point. Okay, so what do we do? Have the demons been out here? And what do we do with veggie-girl, who's still tied up inside?"

I frowned. By all rights, we should return her to Otherworld for questioning. "We'll take her with us, which means making sure she's bound and gagged all the way. This is turning into a real joyride, isn't it? I'm going to go question Georgio and find out just what he was doing outside our house. Why don't you take Delilah and Morio inside and truss up Wisteria for traveling?"

Chase glanced at Smoky. "Will you be safe with that thing?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I think he likes me. Whether or not that's a good thing, I'm not entirely sure. Go on, we want to get out of here before Bad Ass Luke et al. return. I'd sure like to have Smoky on my side when they do."

Chase motioned to Delilah and Morio, and they took the steps two at a time. Tom sat down, digging at the ground with the heel of one boot. Smoky gave me a veiled look that I could barely decipher, though what little I could made me nervous.

Dragons sometimes took human form to lure in mates—they were all as lecherous as they were powerful. While no children were born of the unions, it could be a bizarre and frightening match. Not that I'd ever experienced it, mind you—though looking at the tall, lean, absolutely beautiful form Smoky had taken, I understood the temptation.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Apparently my paralyzed libido had been thawed full force, thanks to Trillian and Morio, but it looked like I was leaning toward dangerous—albeit fun—territory. I edged over to Georgio, who was slumped on the ground staring up at Smoky. Kneeling beside him, I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked like a little boy who'd managed to get aboard the carousel but who'd lost the brass ring.

He looked up at me, his expression both sweet and bewildered. "Yes?"

"Your name is Georgio, isn't it? Georgio Profeta."

He blinked, as if thinking about the question, then nodded.

Not very talkative. I tried again. "What were you doing outside my house? We have your notebook and jacket."

After another moment, he said in a whisper, "I was in the bar when you were talking to that Japanese man about how you were looking for Tom Lane. I thought you were coming out here to kill the dragon, and I couldn't let you do that. It's my destiny, so I followed you home to find out who you were."

So he thought we were out to vanquish Smoky? "Georgio, we didn't even know about the dragon until we found your notebook. How long have you known about him?"

"A long time," he said, his eyes downcast.

I glanced up at Smoky, who was listening with interest. "Just how many people know about you?"

He winked, one lip curling into a smile. "Too many. I've been around here a long time. But most people don't ever find a trace of me. I'm good with illusion, as you and your boyfriend know."

"He's just a friend," I said.

"If he's just a friend, then I'd love to see how you treat a lover," Smoky said with a snort. A faint wash of smoke wafted out from his nose, and I blinked, wondering just where the line stopped between dragon and man. In a persuasive voice, he added, "You don't have a boyfriend, Witchling?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face," I said. It just occurred to me that Smoky had probably had a perfect view of Morio and me having sex. If so, he must have gotten an eyeful. "I do have a boyfriend, and he's a Svartan, so play nice, because he won't if he thinks somebody's bothering me."

Smoky's eyes flashed. "Don't threaten me, girl. Don't you ever, ever forget who you're talking to when you talk to me."

I cringed. Not good, nope, not good. No matter how smarmy they got, a dragon was a dragon, whether in human form or not. "I'm sorry," I said in a little voice. "Don't toast me."

He let out a loud grunt. "Faeries… you're all a bunch of pests." After a pause, he said. "So, you have a Svartan boyfriend, and you're cavorting with a fox demon? That's a new one."

I held my tongue. Sometimes silence really was the better part of valor.

He continued. "Anyway, I've been mistaken for a flying saucer more than once, which just goes to show you how people see what they want to see. Humans are a fanciful bunch."

Turning back to Georgio, I said, "My friend, we aren't out to kill Smoky here. We were looking for Tom, that's all. But listen. You can't go around slaying dragons. It's dangerous, and you'll end up getting eaten."

Georgio's lower lip trembled. "But I'm Saint George. It's my destiny to slay dragons."

As I stared into his eyes, I realized that Georgio truly believed what he was saying. Unlike Tom's prestigious past, however, Georgio wasn't the actual saint he purported to be, and if he tried to slay the dragon, he'd be dead before he could lift his sword. He needed to be home safe, watched so he couldn't hurt himself. I reached out and fingered his chain mail. As I'd suspected, it was a replica, spray-painted plastic—uncomfortable and of utterly no protection.

I stood up and walked over to Smoky, my nose quivering as I drew near. The smell of smoke and musk filled the air, and I straightened my shoulders.

"Tell me more about him," I said, nodding at Georgio, who was playing with the rings of his armor.

Smoky frowned, a look of distaste crossing his face. "He thinks he's a dragon slayer. When he first started coming around I was wary, but for some reason the man fascinated me, and I let him live. After the second time, I went into the city in disguise to do a little digging. Turns out Georgio has a few bolts loose in his head, but he's not dangerous. He lives with his grandmother and works in a market, sweeping floors and doing other simple tasks."

Any other dragon would have already snarfed down the poor man without a second thought. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out and rested my fingers on Smoky's arm.

"You feel sorry for him, don't you? That's why you don't kill him."

Smoky gazed at my hand for a long minute, then gently shrugged me off. "I feel pity for no man." But the look on his face told me I was right. "Besides, he'd be too tough and stringy."

"You didn't kill Tom either, though you had the chance," I said. "Face it—you have a soft spot for humans. When's the last time you ate one?"

Smoky grabbed me around the waist and yanked me close to him. My feet dangled off the ground. His breath thick, he pressed his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes.

"Witchling, once again I warn you: don't press your luck."

I struggled, but he held fast. Feeling like an idiot, I stammered out a contrite apology. "I'm sorry, really. Please, let me go."

Smoky squeezed me tighter. "I could carry you off," he murmured, sniffing my hair. "No one would dare try to stop me. After all, you owe me for my protection."

"Smoky," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "Please let me go. So much depends on getting Tom Lane away from here before the demons return." I wasn't about to tell him that Tom's pendant carried a hefty power behind it—that would ensure that Smoky became the new guardian of the seal.

His eyes shifted, a dizzying array of colors swirling in the icy depths of the glacier. I felt myself being sucked in as I lost interest in freeing myself. He buried his nose in my hair and slowly, deliberately, licked my ear. I closed my eyes, but then he let go, setting me down gently.

Shaking, I said, "Thank you for letting me go. Again, I'm sorry."

The dragon gazed at me with eyes that were aloof and cool. "Go," he said. "Don't worry about young George here; I'll see that he goes home without being scratched. But, little witch, I'll see you soon. I guarantee it."

I hastily backed away. "Come on, Tom, we have to hurry," I said. As we headed toward the house, I glanced over my shoulder. Smoky stood at the edge of the wood, and I could feel him watching every step I took. When he saw me looking, he briefly raised one hand, then vanished into the forest with Georgio following him like a puppy dog.

We hurried up the stairs just in time to see Delilah and Chase guiding Morio down the stairs. He'd thrown Wisteria over his shoulder. She was trussed up tight as a turkey, and her mouth was firmly gagged.

"Let's get moving," I said, a sense of urgency pushing me on. "Events are moving. I can feel them on the wind."

We piled in the car. Delilah volunteered to drive, since Chase was still coping with his bruises. Wisteria had come very close to ensuring he never fathered a child. As we swung out of the drive, back onto the graveled road, I thanked my lucky stars that we'd managed to get Tom away from Titania. All in all, things had gone more smoothly than I expected, but we weren't home free by any means.

The mood on the drive home was heavy. For one thing, we had a gagged and bound floraed with us who was intent on helping the demons wipe out the human race. For another, Bad Ass Luke knew we had Tom. A whisper on the breeze going past told me he'd found out and was cursing our names. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became. Frustrated, I looked out the window.

"Can't this car move any faster?"

Chase shook his head from the passenger seat next to Delilah. "Not a good idea, Camille. We don't want the State Patrol stopping us. I have my badge, but even so, with Wisteria tied up in the back, it wouldn't look good."

He had a point. I glanced back at Morio, who sat next to the bound and gagged floraed in the back of the SUV. He kept his gaze trained on her, alert for the slightest hint that she might be up to something. The OIA would need to know that there was a spy in their midst. And Wisteria could potentially shed a lot of light on what Shadow Wing's plans were.

"Should I drive straight to the Wayfarer?" Delilah asked.

I mulled it over. That would be the most expedient route, but chances were, at least one of the two remaining demons would be there waiting for us. I shook my head. "No. Menolly said there are a couple of secret entrances to the bar, but to find them we'll need her. I think we should hole up at home until she wakes, and then she can lead us in a roundabout way." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">

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