Chapter Five
“You could think the arrival of a naked, dirty, ex-demon lord would merit at least a few raised eyebrows,” Savian said as I collapsed into a chair. “But no one seems to care.”
“It’s probably more they don’t know what to think than they don’t care,” I said.
“That or they’re just too horrified at the sight of a penis curse to take more than a quick peek.” Savian glanced around the faux-medieval basement bar of the hotel at which we had taken rooms. At this hour of the day, it was empty of customers, a few morsels of gray light bullying their way in through thick, waved glass panes strapped with militant precision in what was no doubt supposed to be a design reminiscent of the court of Elizabeth I of England.
“Are you impugning my cock?” Magoth asked, his hands on his hips.
Savian looked startled for a moment. “I am not doing anything to your dick, let alone impugning it, although . . .” His gaze dropped to the member in question. “If the curse fits, wear it.”
Magoth’s eyes narrowed as he gestured proudly to his genitals. “This is a magnificent specimen of its kind! It is beyond magnificent—it is the epitome of cockhood. It can do things yours can only dream of! It is, in fact, a god amongst penises!”
“Oh, it wasn’t that good,” Cyrene snorted, rolling her eyes at Jim.
Jim clearly had many comments to make about that, but bound to silence, it could only raise its eyebrows and give Magoth’s penis a long, considering look.
“Magoth, please, keep your voice down,” I said.
“He,” Magoth spat, pointing at Savian, “disparaged this most resplendent of cocks. I demand that you as my consort defend its honor. Change back into dragon form and roast him alive.” He paused, a thought having occurred to him. “And then you can wrap your tail around me and—”
“No one is disparaging anything, least of all your genitals,” I said quickly before he dwelled on the strange ways he got his jollies. “Calm down and take a seat before someone notices you.”
He snorted, casting unimpressed glances around him. “I have to piss. I assume you will not let me hear the end of it if I do it here. I will take my commanding and august cock to the bathroom, where it will no longer offend your plebeian souls.”
I exchanged a look with Cyrene as he marched off to the men’s room.
“He really does love his penis,” she said as if that explained things. “And don’t get me wrong, it was fine and all, but magnificent? A god among penises? No. Maybe a duke, or a minor prince. But not a god.”
“I really find it difficult to believe we’re sitting here discussing Magoth’s genitalia,” I said, rubbing the smooth, cool wooden surface of the table. “It’s just a bit surreal.”
“Not nearly as surreal as this whole place is,” Savian said from where he was examining pictures of boats on the walls. He nodded toward one. “Henley Regatta 1923. Not quite what you’d expect in Latvia.”
I had to admit that the hotel wasn’t at all what I expected. The question of why an obscure Latvian hotel in the small town of Livs would try so hard to re-create a half-timber English country house complete with wattle and daub was answered by a red-faced, balding man who bounded into the bar from a back room.
“ ’ Ello, ’ello, I didn’t realize we had customers so early. We don’t do lunches here in the pub, just so you know. Those are done in the tearoom upstairs. All handmade pastries up there, nothing store-bought. My wife does the baking—she has a fair hand with pastries, too. You’ll not be finding a better scone west of the Thames.”
“We’re not hungry, thanks,” I said, leaning back so he could slap a paper coaster in front of me. “Drinks are fine.”
“Right, then. You do look a sight. Been out hiking, have you? We get lots of Americans coming here for the hiking, now that the Russians aren’t in charge anymore. Sisters, are you? You’ve the look of each other, that you do. Oh, but where are my brains today? I’m Ted Havelbury, ye olde host,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, I do indeed. You’re thinking that old Ted is a bit out of his natural setting, and you wouldn’t be far wrong there, but my wife’s mum was from the old country, and when she died and left us this inn, we thought, why not? The children were grown and had families of their own, so off the missus and I went with nothing but a wish and a prayer, as they say. But now, you’ll be wanting a few drinkies, won’t . . . er . . .”
Ted, who had been chatting merrily to Cyrene and me, nodded to Savian as he slid into the chair next to mine. Before he could finish his sentence, Magoth, in full snit, emerged from the bathroom, shoved aside Jim, and stomped over to stand in front of Savian. He glared down at the thief taker, who shot me a martyred look before heaving a sigh as he relinquished the seat.
“Er . . . ,” Ted said again.
“Our friend had a little accident with a stream,” I said, shaking out a paper napkin and placing it over Magoth’s lap. “His clothes were too soaked to wear.”
“Is that so?” Ted said slowly, his expression almost enough to make me laugh. “I don’t suppose he’d like to get dressed before he has a drink?”
“Tell the slave that I wish a bottle of 1996 Bollinger, chilled to forty-five point nine degrees, with one glass,” Magoth said in his most demanding voice.
“Slave?” Ted asked.
I leaned forward toward him, speaking in a low, confident voice I’d found worked well with mortals. “You’ll have to excuse our friend. He’s foreign.”
Ted eyed the naked, dirty, arrogant Magoth with doubt. “He is?”
“South American,” I said, mentally apologizing to everyone on that continent.
“Oh. Latin,” Ted said, nodding. “That explains it. Impetuous people. Excellent dancers, but impetuous.”
“I’d like a gin and tonic, my twin would like a bottle of lemon Perrier, if you have it, and Savian would like . . . ?”
“Brandy.”
“Hmm, 1996 Bollinger’s. I’ll have to check the storeroom for that. I think we have some left over from the New Year’s celebration. . . .” Ted took our orders with only one backwards look at Magoth before hurrying to the back room.
“You’d better pray no one else comes in here while you’re having your champagne,” I told him. “Because as soon as you’re done, you’re putting some clothes on. Jim, stop wiping your nose on my hand. You can have some of Cy’s Perrier, since she gets drunk if she drinks a whole bottle.”
“I do not get drunk! I never get drunk!” Cyrene said, outraged at the slur against her character.
“May eighteenth, 1921. Long Island, New York,” Magoth said, arching an eyebrow at her. “My house. Specifically, the garden. You, me, and three hundred of my closest friends.”
Cyrene flushed and looked away. “That wasn’t drunk. That was enthralled.”
“It was an orgy,” corrected Magoth. He thought for a moment, a smile erasing his pout. “A lovely, lovely orgy. Which resulted in the creation of the ever-adorable May, if I am not mistaken, and I never am about such things. Do you remember, sweet one? Do you remember being called into existence, and the exact moment when your life began, and your eyes first landed upon me?”
“Yes, I remember. I screamed.”
“Music to my ears,” he sighed dreamily. “I don’t suppose—”
“No,” I said hastily, and would have continued, but the sound of footsteps clattering down the bare wooden staircase to the basement arrested me.
A man paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing quickly about the room, clearly about to turn around and go back upstairs. He caught sight of us, however, blinked twice, then turned and bellowed up the stairs, “Found her!”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I murmured as I watched a second man join the first. The pair of them walked toward us with unmistakable purpose—and scent.
“Demons,” Cyrene said, wrinkling her nose as the smell of demon smoke hit us.
“Wrath, by the looks of them,” Savian said, squinting at them.
Wrath demons, as anyone who’s ever been to Abaddon knew, were not the sort of beings you welcomed into your company. They were like mini demon lords, with substantial powers, and minions of their own.
“What do they want?” Cy asked.
“No doubt that cur Bael has realized what a mistake he made in expulsing me, and is summoning me back to restore upon me the rightful estates and titles which your twin’s carelessness so callously cost me,” Magoth said, watching the two men approach with an anticipatory glint in his eye.
“May didn’t do anything to get you kicked out of Abaddon,” Cyrene said, much to my astonishment. Normally oblivious to slurs made against me, now and again she surprised me by jumping to my defense. “That was your own doing, and you know it.”
“His Most Heinous and Imperious Majesty, the premiere prince Bael, has not sent us to deal with a has-been like you, Magoth,” the nearest demon said, a sneer curling its lips. It stopped a few feet away from me and jerked its head in what I realized was acknowledgment of me.
“You will address me as Lord Magoth, you sniveling little scum,” Magoth snapped, his words so chilling and filled with menace that Jim immediately backed up a few feet. I rubbed my arm nearest Magoth. Emotional outbursts caused him to leech the warmth from his environment, leaving me with the sensation of having brushed up against an iceberg. “And you will speak only when I give you permission to do so.”
My eyebrows went up at his imperious tone. I’d heard him use it before, but only on his own minions, never another demon lord’s followers, and certainly not the first-in-commands of the head honcho of all Abaddon.
The demons gave Magoth a scathing look and turned to me. “The Lord Bael desires your presence, dragon.”
I bit back the retort that I wasn’t, in fact, a dragon. “What?” Magoth shrieked, leaping to his feet. “He wants to see my consort? About what?”
The demon nearest him raised its eyebrows as it studied Magoth’s penis tattoo. The other one ignored the irate demon lord, its cold, flat eyes fixed on me.
“Why would Bael want to see me?” I asked it, since it obviously wasn’t going to answer Magoth.
“I will ask the questions around here, slave,” Magoth snarled, marching over to stand in between the wrath demon and me. He got right in the demon’s face, shouting, “Answer me, you watery scum on the underbelly of a toad.”
“I do not seek to question my lord’s commands,” the demon said, treating Magoth as if he were invisible. “I simply carry them out. He has commanded your presence, and we have been through three countries to find you. You hide your trail well, dragon. You will come with us now.”
“Argh!” Magoth screamed, his hands waving wildly. “I will not be treated this way!”
I considered the two wrath demons, wondering how long Gabriel and Kostya would be getting the shard. “And if I choose not to?”
The penis-watching demon shrugged. “You will come with us. The Lord Bael commands.”
“The Lord Bael commands, the Lord Bael commands,” Magoth parroted in a snide voice. “Well, the Lord Magoth commands, too!”
“The difference being, of course, that you’re no longer a reigning prince,” Savian said.
Magoth spun around and sent him a look of pure poison. Savian flinched.
I had a feeling that if I didn’t give in to Bael’s demands, there would be trouble for everyone.
“All right,” I said slowly as I got to my feet. I slid Cyrene a meaningful look. “Please tell Gabriel what’s happened, and where I am. I will try to return as quickly as possible.”
Cyrene’s face looked pinched as she glanced between the demons and a now nearly hysterical Magoth, who was ranting about the good old days. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” she asked in a whisper.
“I should be. Even Bael thinks twice about tangling with a wyvern’s mate,” I said with a lot more confidence than I felt. “Jim, you may come with me, although I want you to mind your tongue in Bael’s presence.”
Released from the command to be silent, Jim staggered a little with the strain of holding in its comments. It cocked an eyebrow at the wrath demons. “Hiyas. Long time no see, Sori. How they hangin’, Tachan? Been forever since I’ve seen you guys. You still got a thing for rams?”
The penis watcher shot Jim an outraged look that nearly set the demon’s coat smoking.
The sound of a man’s singing grew louder as the bar-keep evidently found Magoth’s champagne.
“You guys stay here. I’ll take care of whatever Bael wants and be back as quickly as I can. Don’t forget to tell Gabriel I went willingly,” I said hurriedly, one eye watching the storeroom door. “He doesn’t need to come rescue me.”
“That you know,” Savian said, just adding that little extra dollop of worry that I needed to make my misery complete.
The demon named Sori grabbed my arm in preparation for yanking me through the fabric of being to Bael’s presence, but before it could do more than slash an opening, Magoth screamed a battle cry and threw himself on me. Jim leaped up at the same time, intent on intercepting the attack, but was too late. Magoth hit me, sending me careening into Sori as it was pulling me through the opening, with the end result that all four of us went down in a tangle of arms, legs, and furry black tail.
“I assure you that such a dramatic entrance is not necessary,” a cool, almost bored voice said as I tried to pull my limbs from the pile of others. Jim clunked its head on mine, making me see stars for a second.
I sat up, rubbing it, glaring at Jim for a second before Magoth used my head as a support to lever himself to his feet. “Well! You might have had your servants show a little more respect,” he said, making a great show of brushing his naked self off. He made a brief bow to Bael. “Lord Bael.”
Unlike Magoth, whose appearance never changed from his original, once-mortal form, Bael changed his at a whim. Today he was tall and thin, with a long Ben Affleck-type face, complete with stubble, and world-weary eyes. Those eyes turned on Magoth with extreme unction.
“Why did you bring him?” he snarled at his two wrath demons.
Both men bowed low, in a way that implied they were groveling without their actually doing so. “It was an accident, Your Greatness. He flung himself on the dragon as we were escorting her through.”
“I did not fling myself on May. I have never flung myself on anyone in my life. I am a demon lord—if there is any flinging to be done, it will be of minions!” Magoth snapped.
Bael rolled his eyes for a moment before dismissing the demons, turning his attention to me. His gaze landed on Jim. He frowned. “Have not I seen you before, demon?”
I swear Jim curtsied. “That you have, your most infernal of all infernal beings. I’m Jim. Effrijim, really, but you being stuck with your alternate names of Beelze bub and Baalzuvuv know how it is—short and punchy is definitely the key to success.”
Bael continued to frown, obviously not remembering who Jim was.
“I was here a few months ago with May. We kicked some wrathy ass, not that you probably want to hear that, but you know, if one sixth-class demon and a doppelganger can do that, you might want to up your standards a smidgen,” it said with a helpful air.
I punched it in the shoulder.
“I’m just sayin’!”
“Well, stop it!” I said, waving my fist at it.
“If one of my wrath demons allowed you to get the better of it, then I can assure you it was not due to inef fectiveness,” Bael said dryly as he moved around to sit behind a large, ebony desk.
“Yeah? Then why would . . . shutting up,” Jim said, having accurately read the look in Bael’s eyes.
“And about time, too,” Magoth said, grumpily shoving the demon aside to stand before his boss.
Bael, without looking up, waved a hand toward me. I took the chair he indicated. Magoth waited a moment, but no such nicety was extended to him. With audible grinding of his teeth, he hauled over a chair from against the wall to sit in front of the desk, plopping down into it with a rude noise caused by bare flesh on glossy leather.
Bael, in the process of opening a drawer, froze for a moment, but he pulled out a laptop and set it in the exact center of his desk without comment.
I glanced at Magoth. He had a testy look on his face, his legs mercifully crossed, his fingers drumming out an annoying tattoo on the chair’s arm.
“You go ahead. Evidently my business is not nearly so important as that of my slave, my minion, my consort.” His lips were tight as he answered the question in my eyes.
My curiosity prodded me to ask Bael, “I don’t mean to harp on a subject you probably would like to forget, but are you saying your wrath demon held itself back when I was here a few months ago?”
I hesitated to bring up the reason why Jim and I had been in Abaddon, lest it rub a raw spot.
Bael flipped open the top of the laptop, and punched a couple of keys with laconic pokes of his long fingers. “That is correct.”
“Why?” I asked, remembering the scene well. The wrath demon Jim and I had disarmed sure didn’t seem to have been holding back anything.
“You are a dragon,” Bael answered, his eyes on the laptop screen.
Magoth snorted and said something rude under his breath.
“And?”
Bael heaved a sigh, as if my questions were too tiresome to answer. “I find it best to adhere to a policy of noninvolvement with members of the weyr.”
“And yet that doesn’t stop you from holding a wyvern prisoner,” I pointed out.
He waved a graceful hand toward me. “That was different. I did not seek to control the wyvern—she was sent to Abaddon, sent to my palace specifically. I merely provided her with . . . accommodations.”
I forbore to point out the obvious.
“Until, that is, you released her.” His eyes pinned me back, and I was very aware for a moment that he had enough power to squash me like a particularly ineffective bug. Then the dragon shard kicked in, filling me with dragon fire and a matching fierceness.
Bael’s gaze dropped, and I was possessed with the sudden knowledge that what he said was true—he might hold Chuan Ren prisoner when she had been thrown into his lap, but he did not want to tangle with any of the dragons. It was the dragon shard he was wary of, not me, but that knowledge gave me a little kernel of reassurance.
“Without my knowledge or express consent, I hasten to point out,” Magoth said quickly. “I did not, as you have claimed, order her to go against your wishes. I would never do that. I would never risk expulsion. It was all May’s doing. If anyone should be expulsed, it is she.”
“Oh, you did so tell me to do whatever I needed to do,” I said, unable to keep from arguing with him. The dragon shard made me feel cocky, as if Magoth posed no threat to my borrowed strength. “You said, and I quote, ‘I’m too busy to bother with your unimportant concerns. Feel free to do whatever you need to do, so long as it’s without me.’ And if that’s not consent, I don’t know what is.”
Magoth bristled, the temperature of the room dropping by a couple of degrees. “How can you lie like that in front of Lord Bael!”
“I don’t lie. You know that. And so does he.”
“I never—”
Bael held up a hand, which thankfully shut up Magoth.
“This discussion bores me. You have been judged and sentenced, Magoth. Your punishment has been duly bound upon you.”
“Not properly!” Magoth said, shooting me a couple of really nasty looks. I thought for a moment of setting his toes on fire, but managed to keep from doing so. He would probably consider it foreplay. “My rightful powers have not yet been restored.”
“It is for that reason I’ve had you brought here,” Bael said to me.
“Really? I assumed it was to chew me out for releasing Chuan Ren,” I said calmly, embracing the dragon heart’s strength. I felt particularly dragonish at that moment, allowing my fingers to change into curved, wickedly sharp claws as I tapped on the round-headed tacks pounded into the arms of the leather chair on which I sat. “It goes against my nature, but if you want me to beg you not to give Magoth back his powers, I am fully prepared to do so.”
“May!” Magoth gasped.
Jim snickered softly to itself.
Bael’s eyes lit with interest for a moment. “That might be . . . no. I suppose it would be best not to pursue that train of thought, tempting as it is. As you know, the Doctrine of Unending Conscious allows for a period of time before an expulsion is made permanent, a time during which the expulsed person may petition the princes for reinstatement.”
Magoth lifted his chin. “Which I have done. You rejected my petition. Therefore, according to the laws set down in the Doctrine, you must restore to me all the honors due me, including my full powers.”
I moved uneasily in the chair, the dragon shard filling my mind with all sorts of unlikely actions that were intended to keep Bael from doing just that.
Bael’s gaze flickered to me for a few moments before returning to his laptop. “The law states that powers must be given to their rightful owner, yes.”
“Fine, then,” Magoth said, standing up, one hand on his naked hip. “I don’t like it, but I will accept the expulsion. So long as I have my powers, I will simply turn my attention to ruling the mortal world. You can have my seat with my blessings.”
“I don’t need your—”
Bael’s terse response was interrupted by a whirlwind that suddenly burst through the door.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I got held up disciplining one of my legions. You wouldn’t believe how insubordinate they were. I don’t know what the last demon lord was thinking, but she totally messed up my minions. Do you know that all they want to do is write software? But that’s a subject for another day. Did I miss it? Did I miss seeing you tell him? May, sugar! How lovely to see you again! And Magoth. Goodness! You’re starkers!”
A giggling pink-frilled whirlwind, that is. One named Sally, who appeared to be accompanied by two nearly naked bodybuilders.
She stopped next to me, air-kissing the spaces about four inches from either side of my face. “You look simply scrumptious in that black leather waist cincher. It’s amazing what that can do for your figure, isn’t it? Magoth, my dear boy, is that your curse, or are you just happy to see me?” Having dealt with the niceties, Sally squealed her way over to Magoth and stroked a hand down his bare chest. “Still so yummy, even though a bath would probably be the best thing right now. Is that mouse droppings in your hair? Oooh. Kinky.”
Magoth simpered at her. I kept my eye rolling to merely a desire, and greeted her politely. “Hello, Sally. I wondered what happened to you, since we haven’t seen you in a few months. It looks like you’ve taken up coaching Chippendales dancers.”
The nearest wrath demon flexed its zebra-striped thong at me.
“You mean Vincenzo and Gunter? Aren’t they the most scrumptious things you’ve ever seen?” Sally blew them a kiss.
“Er . . . they’re definitely something,” I said, avoiding eye contact with them.
“Sugar, jealousy just doesn’t look good on you. I’ll send them away, since you know how much I value our friendship. Well, that and they’re naughty little boys who don’t like it when Mumsy pays attention to other men.” She kissed Magoth’s ear and made an elaborate gesture in the air. The two nearly naked demons disappeared.
“I wonder how I’d look in a thong,” Jim said thoughtfully, squinting at the spot in which the two demons had been standing.
“Ridiculous,”I told it before turning to Sally.“You look hale and hearty. I take it you’re still apprenticing?”
“Gracious, no!” She looked crestfallen for a moment. “You didn’t get the invitation for the ceremony? Hell-fire! I knew I should have gone with Crane and Co. to do my announcements rather than having one of the minions handcraft paper from Yankee money. I’m sorry about that, May. It was a beautiful ceremony, truly moving when Bael sacrificed an entire legion to mark the occasion of my ascension to the throne. You would have loved it.”
Somehow, I doubted that. Still, my eyes widened at the thought of Sally ruling Abaddon. “You took the throne?”
“You little backstabber,” Magoth told her fondly, using the arm he had around her waist to give her a squeeze. “You used my banishment to forward your own cause. What a superbly self-serving thing to do.”
She bit his chin. “I knew you’d approve.”
“So long as it wasn’t my seat, yes.”
“To answer your question, May, I took over the seat left vacant by that demon lord who is now all dragonny,” she said, giggling a little as Magoth goosed her. “You know her, don’t you? I’d appreciate it if you could give her a piece of my mind. She’s absolutely ruined all of my minions. You wouldn’t believe the lax attitudes they have, not to mention a flat-out refusal to do anything truly evil. I mean, seriously, what’s the use of having minions if they won’t go forth and spread debauchery, depravity, and suffering in your name?”
“Shocking,” Magoth murmured, both hands on her butt now.
I said simply, “What a disappointment that must be to you. I will be sure to pass along your complaint to Aisling.”
“I’m sure she’ll be heartbroken,” Jim said, snickering just a little.
Sally, who had been whispering and giggling to Magoth, suddenly froze, her head snapping around to pierce Jim with a look that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “Who dares to speak to me without permission? What is your name, demon?”
“This is Jim,” I said quickly as Jim backed up until it was pressed against my legs. “It’s Aisling’s demon, actually, although it’s out on loan to me.”
“It is impertinent,” Sally said, and with a negligent hand drew a symbol in the air.
“Hey, all I said—” Jim disappeared, just flat-out disappeared.
Fury roared to life within me. “What did you do?” I almost yelled, stomping forward toward her.
She had the gall to look surprised. “Why, banished it to the Akasha, of course. I know you’re not a demon lord, May, but really, your time here in Abaddon should have taught you that the only way to maintain control is to never allow impertinence in minions. It can only lead to worse things, like insubordination and outright mutiny.”
“She’s right,” Magoth said, nodding. “I prefer torture, myself, since it entertains and is a good demonstration for other demons, but the idea is sound.”
“Bring it back,” I said, my voice a low growl that I didn’t recognize.
“Don’t be silly—it’s just a sixth-class demon,” Sally said, dismissing my concern to turn her head and nuzzle Magoth’s filthy neck. She plucked a fern from behind his ear and proceeded to tickle his penis with it.
I slid a glance toward Bael. He was leaning back in his chair, watching me with an anticipatory light in his eyes.
“Bring. It. Back,” I said again, my body elongating and shifting into that of a silver-covered dragon. I drew back my lips, sending fire through my clenched teeth.
Sally’s eyes widened as I took a step toward her, sending fire to the very tips of her sparkly pink plastic shoes. “May! This is how you thank me?”
Magoth shoved Sally aside, his arms held wide as he welcomed me. “May! My own sweet, scaly May! You want to play? Right here? Right now? In front of Bael? I question your sense of timing, and yet, I am strangely excited by the thought. Let’s go for it. Give me a piece of that sweet tail!”
The air cracked. A large whump followed as Magoth hit the far wall of the room, sliding down the wood paneling with a squeak of flesh against highly polished wood.
Sally watched him for a moment before turning back to me, her eyes thoughtful, her lips pursed. “I see.”
“Do you?” I walked toward her, slowly, little compression tremors shaking the ground as I did so. “Do you, really?”
“Perhaps I was a little hasty in banishing your servant,” she said quickly, backing up a couple of steps. “I don’t want there to be bad feelings between us, sugar. What if I bring the demon back? Would that make you happy again?”
I let a slow smile curve my lips before I forced the dragon shard back into obedience, my body changing back to its normal shape. “That would make me very happy, indeed.”
She spoke a few words, and gave me a very toothy smile when Jim reappeared, its eyes rather wild. She even went so far as to pat it a couple of times on the head before turning her perky smile on Bael. “I’m sorry, Lord Bael. I forgot you said . . . I forgot.”
Bael gave her a long look before turning his head to consider the puddle of Magoth on the floor next to the wall. “He smudged my wall.”
“He had a little accident in the woods and got a bit dirty,” I explained.
Bael laced his fingers together and looked back to me. “It would appear he is also unconscious.”
“He would have just kept pestering me until I knocked him out, so I figured I’d save everyone the trouble of listening to him rant and rave. Which, I assume, he’d do, since I suspect you have something to tell me he isn’t going to like.”
“Very astute, dragon,” Bael said.
“Oh, goody, I haven’t missed it,” Sally said, beaming at me. “You’re going to love this, May. Just love it. It’s so—oh my gosh, so wonderful! I couldn’t believe it when Lord Bael told me about it. ‘May is just going to flip when she hears about this,’ I told him, and so you are.”
“Sally,” Bael said, with a weary gesture.
“Oh. Sorry. Lips are zipped,” she said, making a zipping action across her mouth. “Go right ahead and make May’s day.”
Bael leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaware of the wariness in my eyes, saying comfortably, “As I was saying before we were interrupted, there are rules that I must adhere to.”
“I am tolerably familiar with the Doctrine of Unending Conscious,” I said, mentally going over the set of rules that governed Abaddon for anything appropriate to the situation. Sally’s reassurance of loving the surprise that Bael had for me confirmed my initial impression that I was about to be sent screaming in horror from the room.
“As your employer so abrasively stated, we must grant him his due now that the expulsion has been appealed, and the appeal denied. Therefore, I am doing just that,” Bael said, flicking his fingers toward me.
I took a deep breath, holding tight to my anger and the need for the shard to dominate me. “Might I point out that Magoth running amok in the mortal world will have repercussions on Abaddon? You come and go into my world as frequently as you please—do you think you will be able to continue doing so once he rules it? Surely you must realize that he will hold a grudge, and will do everything possible to deny you access to the mortal world.”
“No one can stop me from doing what I wish,” he said with deceptive mildness. “That said, I have no intention of allowing Magoth to rule any world, let alone one in which I have an interest.”
I frowned, confused, sliding Jim a glance. Its eyes looked like they were going to bug out of its head. I wanted badly to ask it what it saw that I didn’t, but refrained. Bael would view such an act as a sign of weakness, and above all, I wanted him to continue thinking I was a badass dragon with whom it would be a very bad idea to tangle. “So you won’t be giving him his powers back?”
“No.”
“But the Doctrine . . . ?”
Sally giggled again. “This is so fabulous, May. I can’t believe you haven’t guessed!”
“Guess what?” I asked, but the second the words left my lips, a horrible idea came over me. I turned to Bael with what must have been an appalled look on my face. “You don’t mean . . . you can’t . . . it’s not possible, is it?”
“You are Magoth’s consort,” he answered with a little shrug. “As far as the Doctrine is concerned, you and he are of the same body. Therefore, it is to you his powers have been granted. I wish you joy of them, dragon.”