Playing with Fire

‘‘May? What’s the-’’

The tingling increased to a painful pitch as the world seemed to give a shudder, then twisted into a gut-wrenching parody of reality. I was jerked out of the room at Drake’s house, and deposited naked, clutching a blanket, onto a cool tile floor.

‘‘I see you’ve changed your mind about me. I’m delighted, although I would have preferred a little warning of your intentions,’’ a smooth, suave voice spoke.

The chill from it caused my skin to prickle as I twisted the blanket around me toga-style. My dignity was shredded, but I managed to get off the floor with the blanket intact. I glared at the man who stood in front of me, his hair slicked back from his forehead, his dark, deep-lidded eyes promising all sorts of carnal pleasures.

I said the first thing that came to mind. ‘‘I never liked you in that movie about the Arab chieftain, you know. You were bearable in the sequel, but the first one? The word ‘ham’ comes to mind.’’

Magoth bristled, the air cooling at least ten degrees. ‘‘That was my greatest picture!’’ he said in a near hiss. ‘‘It made my career!’’

‘‘I thought your depiction was clumsy, brutal, and extremely heavy-handed.’’

He did hiss this time, his face hard. ‘‘Women the world over swooned whenever I was on the screen. Swooned! Several committed suicide because of me!’’

‘‘That was just the Hollywood hype,’’ I said nonchalantly, aware that I was playing with fire (so to speak), but unable to express my fury in any other way at the untimely summons. ‘‘You had a very good manager, as I recall. I always did think he was smart to have you pretend to die just when you did. I doubt if you’d have kept your precious mystique if you’d been around much longer.’’

Magoth’s face worked for a moment before he regained control. I knew I was perilously close to being punished for my flip comments, but they served their purposes: they distracted him from thoughts of seduction of my nearly naked self, and they gave vent to my much-aggrieved spleen.

He strolled over to a bar, pouring himself a glass of sangria. I took the wicker seat across from him, ignoring the fact that two demons were also present in the pretty courtyard of what I assumed was his villa in Spain. ‘‘I find myself wondering if there is a purpose in your slanderous comments about my brief movie career,’’ he said with perfect suavity.

‘‘Just an idle thought. You haven’t worn your hair slicked back like that for a number of decades-it reminded me of when I first saw you.’’

He smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to behold. ‘‘I have toyed with the thought of returning to the screen, but alas, my schedule allows me little free time. Which brings me to an interesting bit of gossip I have heard.’’ His gaze dropped to the top of the blanket, the edge of which was tucked securely under my arm. ‘‘The word on the street is that you have mated with a dragon. A wyvern, to be exact.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ I said, fighting to control the fear that rose inside me. I knew this moment would come, and counted on Gabriel’s strength to see me through it.

One sleek black eyebrow rose. He sat, crossing one leg over the other, the glass of sangria dangling from his fingers. ‘‘That is all I am to expect from you on the subject?’’

‘‘There’s nothing to say. I met a wyvern, agreed that I was his mate, end of story.’’

‘‘Oh, I think not,’’ he said with amusement. My stomach contracted. Gabriel would probably be furious and worried about my sudden disappearance from his bed. What if he came after me? What would Magoth do to Gabriel if he managed to track me down in order to rescue me? ‘‘There is another rumor that I have heard, one that I find even more intriguing.’’

I frowned, running my mind back over the last couple of days. With the quintessence returned to Kostich, there was nothing I’d done in the last few days that would be of any interest to Magoth. ‘‘What rumor?’’

‘‘It is said that a thief taker finally caught you.’’ He leaned back along the rattan chaise, patting the cushion next to him. ‘‘Let us not be so formal. Come sit with me.’’

‘‘I’m fine where I am,’’ I said, oddly relieved that he didn’t seem to be trying to enthrall me.

‘‘This is not an invitation,’’ he answered, the force in his voice compelling me to move from the sanctuary of my chair. Reluctantly, I clutched the blanket tight around myself and perched on the edge of the chaise, as far away from him as I could manage.

‘‘There, now, isn’t that more comfortable?’’ He dropped a hand on my blanket-covered knee, lolling back. In an instant, the demons moving silently around in the background were gone… as were Magoth’s clothes.

‘‘I believe I will start a clothing-optional hotel on the southern coast,’’ he said with studied nonchalance. ‘‘I find the human form so much more pleasing when it is not hidden away behind garments.’’

I slapped his hand away from where it had crept toward the knot of the blanket. ‘‘That depends on the body in question. I prefer to remain clothed, thank you.’’

‘‘Sweet May. Sweet, adorable May. Does my form please you? I have thought of changing it, but there is no other which can match the original, don’t you think?’’ He waved a languid hand to indicate his body.

He clearly hoped to shock or frighten me. In an effort to deny him any satisfaction on either account, I forced myself to glance over him with what I prayed indicated indifference. ‘‘It’s very nice, as you well know, given the number of women you’ve seduced, enthralled, and damned to eternal torment.’’

‘‘ ‘Torment’ is such a harsh word for it. I prefer ‘enlightenment.’ ’’

My curiosity, always bothersome, got the better of me. ‘‘You said this was your original form… did you have to beat the women off you with a stick when you were mortal?’’

His lips quirked. ‘‘From the time I first grew hair between my legs, women have chased me. Few have resisted me when I have set about to charm them. You are one of my failures, but even you are not, I think, immune to me?’’ He gestured toward his bare chest with a wicked glint to his eyes. ‘‘Perhaps you find my body not to your taste? My chest is too broad for you?’’

‘‘It’s fine, although a little hirsute for my tastes,’’ I answered, clearing my throat. He wasn’t turning the full power of his charm on me, but just being this close to him-naked-was reminding me that even a mate to a dragon could be susceptible to his power. The key was to keep him from feeling he had to prove a point. ‘‘I know other women like a furry chest, though.’’

‘‘And my belly. No-abs. That is the current trend, is it not? My abs are rock hard, are they not?’’

‘‘Six-pack,’’ I agreed, nodding at the body part in question.

‘‘I can do things with my cock that would make you faint with pleasure,’’ he said with half-closed eyelids. ‘‘What do you think of it?’’

I bit my lip and gazed upon his privates. His penis was enlarged, bobbing gently in the breeze. ‘‘It looks pretty much like any other male genitalia, although I doubt if many men would tolerate having their penises tattooed.’’

‘‘That was not my choice,’’ he said with a shrug. ‘‘It was the first curse bound to me by a very jealous diviner years before I rose to power. If you trace out the words of the curse, they will glow,’’ he added with a leer.

‘‘I think I’ll pass on the opportunity to see a glowing penis curse. Is that it, or would you like me to admire your legs, as well?’’

He sighed in a highly dramatic fashion. ‘‘I do my best to please you, and still you spurn me. Tell me, did you enjoy the bestial act with your dragon?’’