Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [19]
‘‘What if we destroyed its form?’’ Cyrene asked, kneeling beside it.
‘‘We can’t . . . ,’’ I started to say, but stopped. She was right. It was harmed doing something for us, and I couldn’t just walk away. ‘‘I don’t know what we can do, Cy. We can’t take it up to the house. The dragons—’’
‘‘Are no friends of Dr. Kostich,’’ she interrupted. ‘‘Come on. And stop making that face—you may work for a demon lord, but I know you. I created you! You’re not a heartless person, so let’s just get this poor demon to its people and then we can leave. All right?’’
‘‘Why do I have a feeling you’re enjoying this?’’ I grumbled as I picked up the front half of the dog.
She giggled as she lifted its rear legs. ‘‘I have to admit I’m looking forward to seeing real dragons. And famous ones! This Aisling Grey person was the subject of conversation at the Elemental Beings conference last month. It was a very romantic story. She met this wyvern and became a demon lord and then she had something happen to make her a prince of Abaddon . . .’’
We were puffing heavily by the time we got the heavy demon to the flagstones marking the edge of the patio area. Cyrene continued to tell me some convoluted story about the demon’s master—to be honest, it sounded far too bizarre to be real—but most of my attention was focused on how I was going to explain the situation to strangers, and more important, keep the existence of the quintessence secret. I might have never met any dragons, but their love of treasure was legendary; the quintessence would surely present a temptation they couldn’t ignore . . . and one I couldn’t let them have.
Chapter Four
‘‘Remember your promise,’’ I reminded Cyrene in a low voice as we set the demon on a chaise longue.
‘‘Which one? Oh! That one.’’ She nodded and made a gesture over her lips. ‘‘Locked tight, Mayling.’’
‘‘Good. I think we’re about to have company.’’ I straightened up and tried to adopt an innocent expression as two red-haired men burst out of the house, their body language (not to mention expressions) intimidating. I lifted my hands to show I was unarmed. ‘‘Good evening. I assume you are Pál and István?’’
‘‘I am Pál,’’ the taller of the two men said, stopping in front of me. He nodded to the stockier man, the one who watched us with hard, suspicious eyes. ‘‘He is István. What are you doing here?’’
I moved aside so the men could see the body of the demon lying on the chaise. The one named Istvàn started and gave a little cry, immediately kneeling down next to the demon. Before I could tell him the demon’s form wasn’t destroyed, it was just unconscious, the other man jerked me forward, twisting me around so his beefy forearm crushed my windpipe.
‘‘What did you do to Jim?’’ he growled in my ear.
‘‘Nothing. It was the mage next door—’’
‘‘Stop it! Stop hurting her!’’ Cyrene cried, leaping onto Pál’s back in an attempt to pull him off me.
He snarled something in another language, tightening his arm around my neck until large, wavering black spots began to eat at my vision. I struggled desperately for air, both hands clawing at his arm, but it was like he was made of steel.
Cyrene screamed as István pulled her off Pál, flinging her halfway across the patio. She slammed into a glass and metal table, cracking her head on the edge with a horrible gut-wrenching sound, her body falling limp to the ground.
Adrenaline spiked my blood at the sight of my twin lying in a growing pool of her own blood. I twisted away from Pál, but István caught me before I could reach Cyrene. Angling my head, I clamped my teeth over István’s arm, biting down and throwing myself backward at the same time. István yelled, slamming his free hand down on my head as I slid out of his grip.
‘‘What’s going on out here?’’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘‘Who’s . . . good god! Is that Jim?’’
I swung a metal chair at Pál as he leaped for me, István lunging at the same time. There was a flash of black, and I was slammed up against the stone side of the house, the furious green eyes of a dragon