“No!” I sobbed, clutching him as I fought back the need to answer his unspoken call.

Immediately he was back, his mouth hot as he kissed me, his body still trembling with little after-shocks of pleasure. “Do not fear, little bird. You did it, you embraced the strong emotions, and you did not change.”

I clung to him as he rolled over, pulling me with him, mindless with pleasure on one level, but knowing just how close a thing it had been.

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-two

Three hours later, we arrived at Drake’s Paris house. “So, what exactly are you going to tell Drake and Aisling about Fiat?”

“What they need to know to help us with Chuan Ren.”

I waited until we entered the spacious entrance hall, divesting myself of my coat before stopping Gabriel. “Are you sure this is a good idea, involving them in the whole thing? Drake isn’t going to let Aisling do anything that will endanger her or the baby, and I just don’t know that anyone else has the ability to help us. Maybe if I was to force Magoth to help us, threaten him somehow—”

He stopped me with a kiss so hot, it made me want to jump him right there, in front of everyone. “My fierce little bird. Just when I am convinced that you could not get along without me, your claws come out and I live in fear you’ll fly away from me.”

I stared at him for a moment, my fingers moving against my legs to make sure that the claws weren’t evident.

The teasing light in his eyes faded when I didn’t respond.

“There you are!” Aisling said, emerging from what I remembered as being the downstairs bathroom. “Drake’s in the lounge. Come in and have a drink. I bet you could use one after having to sit through all that bull from Fiat. I know I could, but the best I’ll get is juice. No reason you all should suffer, though.”

“I’d like a stiff belt, too,” Jim said, following her into the sitting room. “All that restraint you made me show has left a really nasty taste in my mouth. Scotch on the rocks, István. No, make that a double.”

“You let your demon drink?” I said as Gabriel, his bodyguards, and I entered the room. Gabriel passed me a glass of dragon’s blood, the spicy drink that only dragons could drink without lethal repercussions.

“Not after the last time when it got drunk and called up Whoopi Goldberg to demand airtime on The View,” Aisling said with a dark look at her demon dog. “You’ll have ginger ale and like it, buster.”

“Bully,” the demon muttered, glaring at the bowl that Drake’s bodyguard set in front of it.