Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(94)

“No, I didn’t know, but I don’t see any reason why a guard to the lord of the Underworld shouldn’t be literary. My question goes back to that last day of the cruise.”

“Mmm, I do love champagne,” she said, sipping a second glass. “What about that day?”

“You said something about you were told to swap your Ka with Bael’s when you took the ring. Rowan and I tried to figure out what you meant by that, but we could never find a satisfactory answer.”

She gave a delicate shrug. “It means just what it says—I was told to swap my Ka.”

“Yes, but by whom? And how did you know where the Ka would be? I mean, most of us take it with us, or so I gather.”

“You are not allowing for the fact that Bael is a demon lord—he would not keep anything of value or power upon him lest his enemies gain hold of it and use it against him. His Ka, as was the ring, was kept in a strongbox.”

“Right,” I said slowly, giving her a long, hard look. “And how did you know that?”

“I was told, as I said.” She helped herself to a petit four, a silver pen that was intended to be used to sign the register, and my lipstick, tucking the last two items away into her small clutch. “Mmm, lemon.”

“Who told you?” I repeated, ignoring the petty theft.

She sighed and gave me a long-suffering look that she had no right to use upon me, not after all I had to put up with. “The First Dragon, of course. I’ve known him for, oh, ever such a long time, and when I told him that I was tired of the mortal world without Bo, he said he would help me since it would aid his descendants as well. So he sent me to Bael’s stronghold to fetch the Ka and the ring, and then he approached you, since he knew I’d need a dragon, and you were just drifting, and the rest you know.”

My jaw sagged a bit. “He approached me? Jian’s cousin! The one whose name I can’t remember! That was the First Dragon?”

“So I gather.” She rose and leaned in to check herself in the mirror.

“I can’t wait to tell Rowan. That and the reason he summoned Constantine to be there at the last challenge were driving us nuts. Until Rowan finally broke down and asked Constantine, but he, being a typical dragon, wouldn’t give us a straight answer.”

“Oh?” Mrs. P frowned. “Why was he there?”

“According to Gary—you know, the head that drives around on the little radio-controlled car—it’s because Constantine needed closure with Bael. Gary said that Bael killed Constantine’s mother, and Constantine had been angsting over it for centuries, and that his psyche was all tormented about it, and so on. Which is totally understandable—I mean, who’d want a demon lord for a parent? I’d much rather be an orphan than have that blighting my life.”

“Your parents were very nice people,” Mrs. P said, taking another petit four. This one she wrapped in a napkin and stuck in her purse. “I met them once, oh, around the turn of the nineteenth century. Your father was very dashing and had a fine eye for a hoochie-coo. Your mother disliked me, I think, but then she was mortal, and she feared I was trying to steal your father away from her.”

I looked suspiciously at the gorgeous woman standing next to me. “And were you?”

“Maybe just a little,” she said with a little smile. “But not seriously, because that’s when I was involved with my president. Oh, dear, does that music mean what I think it means?”

“Five minutes!” The door opened and Gary rolled in, did a turn, and immediately zoomed outward. “This is your five-minute call. You have five minutes.” He stopped at the door and said in a soothing tone, “And I don’t want you worrying about a thing, Sophea. They got the blood out and set Rowan’s hand. He’s been focusing on healing it for the last half hour, so I’m sure it’ll be just fine when it comes time to exchange rings. Gabriel’s head wound closed nicely, and Baltic insists he doesn’t need the crutches at all, so there won’t be any unwelcome thumping when the wyverns escort the grooms in. One of Gabriel’s men, who is also a healer, took care of Drake’s dislocation, so all is well there, although really, you’d think that beings who could heal themselves would do so rather than drinking themselves into insensibility, not to mention the fact that they were engaging in fisticuffs to begin with. But you know how it is with gentlemen and their stag parties. Still, all’s well that doesn’t end in death and dismemberment, and all that, so don’t worry, Sophea, everything is just fi—what? No, you can’t come in! Don’t you know it’s bad luck—”

Gary was unceremoniously pushed aside as Rowan entered the room. He was indeed wearing a tunic, a gorgeous deep red embroidered with golden dragons on the front. It wasn’t at all traditional bridegroom wear, but then, we weren’t very traditional people. To my amusement, he held a hand over his eyes. “I won’t look at you if you don’t want me to, but I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“You can look,” I said with a little laugh, then choked on it when I saw the two black eyes that darkened his face. “Oh, Rowan!”

“It looks worse than it—hoo.” He lowered his hand and blinked at me, a slow smile curling his delectable lips. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I’d like to say the same, and I would except for your eyes. What happened?”