“Ah. Looks like the watch has arrived at last,” Dr. Kostich said, glancing toward the drive. A black van was parked behind the wyverns’ cars. He slid a glance toward us, hesitating for a few moments. “I believe in light of the day’s experience, I would be willing to drop the charges of assault against me on the condition that you give into my keeping the light sword of Antonia von Endres.” “You are mad,” Baltic said.
“On the contrary, I’m quite sane. I am also very serious that Tully will pay for your abuse of me on the occasion of your attack on the silver wyvern’s house, as well as today.” He lifted his hand, and a couple of men emerged from the van, jogging across the field toward us.
I clutched Baltic’s hand, panic swamping me. “You are not taking me to the Akasha!” “No, he is not,” Baltic said calmly.
“It’s your decision,” Kostich said, looking only mildly interested in the whole affair. “The sword or your mate. Or do you intend to be in a state of war with the L’audela, as well as the weyr?” “So help me god, if I didn’t have this interdict on me, I would turn you into a fruit salad,” I told him.
His eyebrows rose. “I never knew you had such a temper. I would never have engaged you had I known. It will matter little to you in the Akasha, however. Bryce, Dermott, please take Tully Sullivan into custody. We will return to Suffrage House in Paris where a formal trial will be held tomorrow—” Baltic snarled an invective, jerking his hand out to the side, the motes of air gathering around it until a long, shining blue-white sword formed. “The day will come, mage, when I will claim this sword again.” “Indeed?” Dr. Kostich caught the sword as Baltic hurled it at him. “You may try, dragon, you may try. I will accept this in lieu of punishment for your mate. Tully…” His mouth tightened as he looked at me.
I lifted my chin and gave him a look that let him see Baltic’s dragon fire raging inside me.
“The sorbet was excellent. My compliments.” He strode off with two puzzled-looking members of the watch, his hand rising to deflect the arcane ball-turned-banana that I hurled after him.
“Damn him. Damn him!” I railed, turning to Baltic. “Why did you give that to him? I know you loved that sword.” “If I told you that you mattered more to me than anything, even something so unique as the light blade, would you do unnatural things to me?” he asked, his fire simmering in both of us.
“I’ve told you I don’t do unnatural things! Why you insist on thinking my simple little common everyday sexual fantasies are bizarre and depraved is beyond me.” He just waited, his eyebrows raised in silent question.
“What sort of unnatural? You mean something like tying you down and coating your entire body with chocolate so I can lick—” A noise behind me reminded me we weren’t quite alone. I spun around, my cheeks heating as Kostya gave me a very odd look.
“Tying him down, hmm?” Cyrene said thoughtfully. “Milk or dark chocolate?” “Milk. Belgian. Or Swiss,” I answered.
“Melted, of course?”
“You can do so ahead of time, but I think it would be more fun to melt it right on him with dragon fire.” “Hmm,” she repeated, looking at Kostya.
He cleared his throat, trying to scowl but seemingly not able to with Cyrene’s speculative gaze on him. “If I see you again, Baltic—” “You will try to kill me,” he answered wearily, sliding an arm around my waist. “Yes, I know — again.” Kostya was silent for a moment, some of the antagonism leaving his face. “I am glad you are not dead after all, Ysolde.” “Thank you. It’s nice to be alive,” I said with no little irony.
He bowed to me, then glanced at Baltic. “I would have taken care of her.” Baltic waited for the count of five before answering. “I know. I never distrusted you with regards to my mate.” “You never had cause to,” I said, frowning a little at Kostya. “Not since that time when you showed up to claim me, and Kostya ran from me because he was afraid I would accept him, instead.” A little smile flickered at Kostya’s lips at the memory, and for a moment, I was transported back to happier times.
“Oh, really? I’m going to want to hear about this,” Cyrene said, tugging on his arm. “Come on, let’s go home. I want to swim in the pond.” “The pond,” I said, thinking of that beautiful home, with the even more beautiful grounds.
“That house was built for Ysolde,” Baltic called after Kostya. “She will have it again.” “You can try, dragon,” Kostya said in mimicry of Dr. Kostich. “You can try.” We stood together alone in the field, the afternoon sun beating down on us, the smell of the warm earth sinking deep into my soul, where Baltic’s fire resided.
I let my gaze roam over his face, over the high, Slavic cheekbones, along his widow’s peak, to the eyes that shone like polished ebony. “Everything is wrong, Baltic.” “Not everything.”
“We’re at war with the weyr.”
He shrugged. “We don’t need them.”
“We do. They are our kind. More importantly, I want to be a part of the weyr. I want there to be peace between us.” He took my hands, his mouth hot on my fingers as he kissed them. “I don’t know that I will be able to give you that.” “We’ll work on it together, OK?”
He said nothing.
“Then there’s the First Dragon. How do you know him?” He dropped my hands and wrapped an arm around me, gently urging me toward the house. “If I tell you all my secrets now, what will you have to worm out of me with your inventive sexual persuasions?” “Typical dragon answer. I can’t tell you how annoying that is.” “I am not typical. I am the dread wyvern Baltic.” “You are the annoying wyvern Baltic, that’s what you are. What are we going to do about this thing that the First Dragon expects of me? How can I do whatever it is when I haven’t the slightest idea what he was talking about? And how did I fail him in the past?” “Questions, questions, you were always full of questions,” he sighed, pulling me tighter against his body until his heat became mine.
“What about your sword? That’s not right that you should just hand it over to Dr. Kostich.” “There is a difference in surrendering something temporarily, and relinquishing the same,” he said cryptically.
I glanced up at him, squinting against the low sun. “If you’re going to steal it back from him, I want to help. I can’t believe I slaved for that man for all those years. Talk about ungrateful. Do you think Kostya would let us buy that house? This one is nice enough and all, but that house is just so us. And while I’m thinking of it, who was it who gave his life for me? It wasn’t you, was it? You were already dead. So who did that? I wonder also if I need to get a divorce from Gareth. Were we even really married, or did he just say we were?” Baltic sighed again. “You wear me out with all these questions, mate. Can you not think, instead, of all the ways in which I will use chocolate upon your body?” “Stop distracting me. I’m angsting, and I can’t do it if — wait, on my body? Oooh. Now that is kind of kinky… ”