Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Jim’s (and Nora’s)
words had hit me hard. I raised my chin and shook my head. “No, I’m through obsessing and monopolizing the
conversation and whatever else I’ve been doing over that
annoying man. I’m just going to have to work things out
on my own. Er... would it help if I talked to the Guardian
people, too?”
“It certainly couldn’t hurt. Don’t worry about that
now—I’m sure we’ll get everything straightened out once
I can sit down and talk to them. And as for you ... Ais
ling, I didn’t mean you couldn’t talk to me about your
troubles,” Nora said, opening the shutters that closed off
a small bar from the kitchen area. “I will always be here
to listen to you, if you need a friendly ear.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” I gathered up my things
and the book she’d handed me and glanced at the clock.
“I’ll let you know if I need a shoulder to sob on. Right
now I have an outfit to pick out for tomorrow’s dragon
conference, a book of demonic class types to memorize,
and a demon to appease. If I leave now, I think there’s
time for me to zip over to Paris and make it back by mid
night. I’ll bone up on the texts you gave me once I get
back.”
She looked skeptical as I rushed into my room,
grabbed my purse and passport, and ordered Jim to follow
me. “Aisling, you’d really go all the way to Paris and
back in twelve hours just to make your demon happy?”
“Paris?” Jim asked, shuffling its way out to the living
room. At the word its ears pricked up, its eyes lit, and it
suddenly looked a good ten years younger, not to mention
five pounds lighter. “Did I hear that right? We’re going to
Paris? Right now?”
“Yes, I would,” I answered Nora first. “Jim and you
are both right—I have been obsessing and moody. I owe it a trip. By my voice, by my blood, by my hand, demon,
I banish thee to Akasha.”
Before Jim could do more than open its eyes wide with
delight and surprise, it disappeared in a puff of black
smoke.
“Man, that’s a handy little spell,” I said as I ran for the
door, waving at Nora as I went. “See you later—I’ll be
back by midnight. Don’t let the committee get you down.
It can’t be anything serious or we’d know, right?”
Honestly, there are times when I think I should be teaching a class called Famous Exit Lines You’ll Later
Regret.
3
Thanks to the swift efficiency of the Eurostar high-speed
train running under the English Channel, three and a half
hours after I had raced out of Nora’s London apartment, I was standing on the street staring down a dark alley
named rue des Furoncles sur les Fesses du Diable (aka
Boils on the Buttocks of the Devil Street), a familiar view
since that particular narrow alley was home to Le Gri
moire Toxique, the cute little shop that catered to the wic
can and witch crowd in Paris. This area of town was
heavily given over to occult-type shops, most of which
were harmless places where non-Otherworldians came to buy incense and love spells. The shops given over to supplies used by those who knew what they were doing were
hidden away on similar dark, out-of-the-way streets like
the one where Amelie Merllain lived.
The tiny bells over the door to the Grimoire Toxique tinkled cheerily as I pushed open the door, a similarly
cheery smile on my face. Two elderly ladies stood next to
a bookshelf as a third woman, middle aged, with a slight amount of gray mixed into her short black hair, stood on
a stepladder and fetched bottles from a top shelf.
“Bonjour, Amelie,” I said in my best French (which
admittedly was atrocious). I sneaked a peek at the slip of paper upon which I’d written a greeting gleaned from my
seatmate during the trip to Paris.
“Um.
Tu es que l’ombre
de toi-meme! Quoi de neuf ?
Amelie’s figure froze for a second. “I believe I am
more than a shadow of myself, but not much is new here
in Paris. Could it be that someone from out of town is
asking?” She turned around with a warm smile. “Aisling,
I knew it must be you. You have a way of speaking French that is truly . . . impressive.”
I laughed and hugged her when she hurried down the stepladder, her hands full of jars that she set down on the
counter. Speaking in quick French, she gestured toward me as she bustled around behind the long counter that
served as her sales desk. The two ladies looked at me
with pursed lips.
“Bonjour,” I told them. They murmured what I as
sumed were polite replies. “Sheesh, Amelie, it’s been for
ever since I last saw you!”
“You exaggerate. It has been under two months, I think.
I will be with you in just one of the brief moments.”
Amelie doled out a pink powder, some dried herbs, and a
handful of rose hips. “I told my ladies here that you are a friend from America, and are a powerful, much-respected
Guardian.”
The ladies looked anything but awestruck. ‘Then you
are guilty of exaggerating as well.” I hooked my foot
under the rail on a tall wooden stool at the end of the
counter, and plopped myself down on it. “Regardless of
the time passed, I’m pleased to see you again.”
“And I you,” she said as she made up a neat paper
package of all the herbs, giving them to the two ladies
with a few hurried comments. “But where is Jim? Cecile
will be deranged if she is not to see him.”
“Oh, Jim!” I leaped off the stool, a little zinger of guilt
lashing me. “I forgot all about it. I put it in the Akasha.”
“The Akasha?” There was a little stereo gasp as Amelie
spoke. The two ladies looked horrified and backed up a
few steps.
“Yeah. The Akashic plain, actually. You know—the place everyone calls limbo? Where demons who don’t eat
their vegetables go?”
Amelie just looked at me. The two ladies stood clutch
ing their packages, eyeing me warily as if they were
afraid to go past me to the door.
“You are joking at me, yes?” Amelie asked.
“Urn. About the veggies, yeah. I put Jim in the
Akashic plain because of England’s quarantine laws for
animals. It’s an easy way to get in and out of the country
without having to worry about documents for Jim.”
“But, Aisling . . .” Amelie looked taken aback for a moment or two. “The Akasha is steeped in dark powers.
I know of many experienced members of the L’au-dela
who will have nothing to do with it because it poses such
a danger to them. Only the most protected of people ac
cess it. Who taught you to do so?”
“A .. . er ... friend. He just taught me how to send and summon Jim from there; that’s all.”
“Still, you must be very powerful indeed if you are
able to utilize it without it tainting you.”
I stopped cold, wondering why I was always the last to
hear things. The limbo I’d been parking Jim in was
steeped in dark powers? Why hadn’t Gabriel mentioned
that when he gave me instructions on accessing it? How would I know if I’d been tainted? Why didn’t Nora warn
me about it when I told her that’s where I was sending
Jim? And
why
did I
always
end up in hot water doing
something simple? “Uh ... yeah, something like that.
Why don’t I just summon Jim and we’ll move on?” I took a deep breath and swung open the door in my mind that
was the portal to all my Otherworld powers. “Effrijim, I
summon thee.”
The air in front of me gathered together in a tight
clutch, the motes of dust dancing on the afternoon sun
light cohering into a shape that quickly formed itself into
that of a large, shaggy, black dog.
“Hounds of Abaddon, Aisling! Could you have left me
dangling in limbo for any longer?” Jim glared at me for a
moment; then its eyes opened wide when it realized where we were. “Amelie?”
The two ladies gave up all pretence and ran from the
shop screeching something that I gathered wasn’t a compliment on the form my demon had picked out above all
others to wear in the mortal world.
“Where’s Cecile?” Jim asked hurriedly, spinning
around to examine the shop, its nose in the air as it tried
to scent her. “Cecile? Baby? Daddy’s home!”
“Cecile is having her rest upstairs—” was all Amelie
got out before Jim went bounding from the room, head
ing for the back door and the flight of stairs that led to the
apartment over the shop.
“The door is locked, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes, but there is a window open,” Amelie started to
say, but the distant sound of tinkling glass interrupted her.
I sighed. “I’ll pay for that, of course. I’d better go see
if Jim managed to cut itself in its frenzy to get to Cecile.”
“I believe I will take the early afternoon leave,”
Amelie said, going to the door to hang a
closed
sign on
it before locking up.
“Oh, but I hate to make you miss any customers.” I
hesitated by the beaded curtain that divided the front of
the shop from the tiny back storage area.
“Non, it is an unexpected pleasure, your visit. One
worth celebrating, yes? We will celebrate.”
The celebrations took the form of a bottle of chilled
white wine (Amelie remembered my favorite brand) and
a plate of delicious cheese munchies. I sat back in the
bloodred neo-baroque armchair and sighed happily. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again. So much
has happened in the last couple of months, I feel like a
different person from the one who wandered in your door
looking for information about a certain wyvern.”
“Ah, yes. How is Drake? I heard that you were formally mated, and that you found a mentor, yes? This is
very good news.”
Jim looked up from where it was lying in a patch of
sunlight with Cecile, Amelie’s elderly, fat Welsh corgi.
“News flash: Aisling broke it off.”
“Again?” Amelie asked, giving me a surprised look.
“Yes,
again.”
That word was beginning to grate on my
nerves. “It’s not like I didn’t have a reason to leave him!
He betrayed my trust.”
“Hello, and welcome to
Aisling Heartbreak Hour,”
Jim said, nuzzling Cecile’s ear. “I hope you’re comfortable, because this is likely to take a while.”
“One more word, and you’re going to find yourself
back in the Akashic plain, tainted powers or no,” I snapped,
my patience worn thin by Jim’s needling ... and my own
guilty feelings. Although Nora had been the first person
to put it into so many words, I realized that I’d been hid
ing the truth from myself behind hurt feelings. “This is
not going to take a while. Drake and I had issues. I left to
think things over. I’m still his mate, I’m still bound to the sept, and tomorrow, as a matter of fact, I’m going to an
other dragon conference to stand by Drake while he does
whatever he does at these gatherings.”
“Gatherings?”
“Yes. Some sort of dragon shindig. Possibly involving
wyverns, although I hope the more idiotic ones don’t
show.”
Amelie sucked in her breath. “Idiotic? You speak so of
the other wyverns? You dare much, Aisling. Do you know
them well?”
“Not horribly well.” I took another sip of wine, enjoying the fruity Riesling. “Fiat Blu I met here in Paris at the same time I met you. I met some of his men, as well. Did
you know the blue dragons are psychics?”
She nodded.
“Oui,
I remember. And yes, they are
known for their ability to find secrets.”
“Yeah, well, Fiat is lovely eye candy, what with that
whole blond god thing going for him, but underneath that
handsome exterior beats the heart of a rat. He’s trying to
stir up trouble for Drake.”
“Ah?”
“Fiat paired up with Chuan Ren. Have you ever seen
her?”