Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [96]
‘‘You’d remember if you did,’’ I said with a little laugh. ‘‘He’s very attractive.’’
‘‘If you like the smoldering, sensual, silent-movie-actor type,’’ Jim said with a sniff as it licked down the fur on one paw.
‘‘He looks like a smoldering, sensual actor?’’ Aisling looked somewhat startled.
‘‘He was a silent movie actor, but that was only a phase he was going through.’’
Aisling mentioned the name of a famous actor of the 1920s.
‘‘That was him. He was always a ham. But that’s not the issue. My problem is . . .’’ I checked the hallway quickly. It was empty. ‘‘Is there any way for someone to disobey a direct order you give? A demon, that is.’’
Aisling blinked a couple of times.
Jim’s mouth formed an O. ‘‘You’re gonna defy an order? You’re going to go dybbuk?’’
‘‘What’s dybbuk?’’ Aisling asked.
‘‘In terms of folklore, it’s a wandering soul that enters a living body,’’ I said slowly.
‘‘In Abaddon terms, it means a demon who’s gone rogue.’’ Jim’s eyes were grave. ‘‘Dybbuks are usually destroyed by their masters for insubordination, although I have heard of one or two who survived in order to be perpetually tormented. Fires of Abaddon, May—lots of demons talk about it, but I never heard of one who was actually thinking about doing it.’’
‘‘I’m not a demon,’’ I pointed out, biting my lower lip nonetheless.
‘‘No, you’re not,’’ Aisling said in an abstracted voice. ‘‘Defying an order . . . hmm. That’s tricky. Maybe it would help if you gave me the specific circumstances.’’
I hesitated for a moment or two, unsure whether I wanted to entrust something so potentially dangerous to her. In the end, I decided that I had little recourse, and she was my best resource of information about demon lords. ‘‘Magoth ordered me to retrieve the dragons’ phylactery for himself. He plans on using it to bring the dragons to rein.’’
Aisling’s eyes opened wide. Jim gave a low, long whistle.
‘‘A direct order?’’ she asked.
I nodded, misery making my gut grumble. ‘‘I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. Even if I wasn’t mated to Gabriel, even if I didn’t give a damn about the dragons, I still wouldn’t do it. It has the potential for just too much power.’’
‘‘But . . . he must have had you steal powerful items before,’’ she said. ‘‘How did you get around those? Or did you?’’
I shook my head. ‘‘He’s never asked me to steal anything quite so important before. Magoth is . . .’’ I made a vague gesture. ‘‘He’s a bit of a flibbertigibbet, if you want to know the truth. He always has a hundred different projects going, and flits from one to another without following one through to the end, which, I have to say, I encourage.’’
‘‘It keeps him from becoming dangerous to the mortal world?’’ she asked.
‘‘Yes. All the other things that Magoth has made me steal for him over the past eighty years weren’t nearly as important as this phylactery. Although I don’t like being forced into the role of thief, it eased my worry somewhat to know that the things I was taking weren’t really going to matter, if you know what I mean. He was just too unfocused, too easily distracted.’’
‘‘Not the brightest bean in the Crock-Pot,’’ Jim said, nodding in agreement.
‘‘Exactly. To be honest, I think he has a form of demonic attention deficit disorder. But this . . . this is different. He seems much more focused on the phylactery, and that worries me greatly. I can’t let him have it. But I can’t see a way out of obeying a direct order.’’
‘‘Sometimes when Ash gives me an order, there’s wiggle room,’’ Jim said. ‘‘What did Magoth say exactly?’’
‘‘He told me to bring him the phylactery. There’s no wiggle room there that I can see.’’
Aisling looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘‘What that means is that if you physically have the phylactery in your possession, you must give it to him.’’
‘‘Ye-es,’’ I said slowly, not seeing where she was going.
‘‘So that means we simply don’t let you touch it. If you don’t have it in your possession, you can’t turn it over to him, right? Easy as pie—you may be a renowned thief, but the green dragons