“Lovely. And this is supposed to be a good spot to stay?”

“There is nowhere safer.” His words were more abrupt than normal, and I realized with surprise that he was tense and ready to spring, his fire riding high inside him. His gaze was constantly moving, flicking up and down the street. I was reminded of a film I’d seen of a knight protecting some damsel in distress.

“What you need is a big old sword, the kind those guys in the Middle Ages used,” I told him, giving him a smile in hopes of lightening the tension that he was exuding.

“I wish I had my old longsword,” he said, looking wistful. “I separated many silver dragons from their heads with it.”

“You’re kidding.” I stared at him for a moment, decided that he wasn’t joking at all, and shook my head. “You had a sword you used to fight with? A real sword?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have survived long without it.” He didn’t stop his vigilance, keeping an eye on every bird that twittered in the trees, every car that passed, every person strolling by.

“Just how old are you?” I asked, wondering if people still used swords as far back as the First World War. I had a feeling they did.

“I was born in 1584.”

“Sweet scuppering salamanders!” I said on a gasp.

He looked surprised at the fact that I was clearly gobsmacked. “You thought I was older?”

“Younger! Much, much younger. I know you said that you guys were not mortal, but…” I did a quick calculation in my head. “Four hundred and thirty-one is a whole heck of a lot of immortality.”

He said nothing. I was about to ask him what it was like living through history when my thoughts were drawn elsewhere.

“We going to go in or stay out here where the sun is going to ruin my nice coat?” Jim asked, wandering up. I gave him a look when I noticed the wet marks on a pretty planter full of red flowers. He noticed the look and gave me one in return. “Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go, and no one asked me if I had to go walkies. You’re supposed to do that, you know. Matter of fact, I may have to indulge in a number two pretty quick. You got a bag or something to pick it up?”

I grimaced at the thought. “You can just hold it until we get our accommodations settled. And hopefully someone will have some sort of hygienic method of poop removal that I can use.”

Jim screwed up his furry black face. “Okay, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to last long. That popcorn you made me with the second DVD is acting like roughage. Hey, there’s that French dude again.”

I turned to see Rene back at the door. “Oh good. Apparently he’s explained the situation to Drake’s people.”

Rene stood on the steps and called out, “You may come inside. Suzanne—she acts as a cook and housekeeper for Aisling and Drake—has cleared her things from her room.”

“Oh no, that sounds like a lot of trouble,” I said as Jim and I hurried over to him, Kostya bringing up the rear.

Rene held the door open for us, waving us into a small antechamber. He closed the door, and the sound of several electronic locks clicking into place was plainly obvious. “This will take one little moment,” Rene explained as a couple of lights flashed on the ceiling. Ahead of us, a substantial-looking door clicked open. “Ah, good, the scan is completed. And here is the hall.”

“I hope those weren’t X-rays,” Jim said as he looked around the hallway. “Those things are bad for your noogies. Leaves you sterile. Hey, something smells good.” He lifted his head and sniffed. “Cinnamon toast!”

“Suzanne was making it for Aisling, evidently,” Rene said, gesturing us toward the back of the hall. I got a few seconds to admire the paneled walls, antique furniture, and what looked like original old masters on the walls before we entered a short passage. “Suzanne’s room is off the kitchen and has its own entrance at the rear of the house, which will be most comfortable for you, yes? Come, I will show you. The others are upstairs until I tell them that you are settled.”

“I feel horrible that we ran someone out of their room,” I said, fretting about discommoding Aisling’s household. “I’m sure we could find some hotel or somewhere that the red dragons don’t know about—”

“No, no, Aisling and Drake agreed that you would be safest here,” Rene said quickly, escorting us through the kitchen. I had to stop and grab Jim by his collar in order to keep him from moving through that tantalizing room and into a small suite beyond. “Suzanne has moved her things up to Istvan’s room. They are companionable, you know? Not mated, but together, so it is no hardship. Aisling has commanded that I tell you that she will bring extra towels and blankets down later and that you are to make free use of the kitchen, although if Kostya is to be in the room, please close the door leading to the hallway so the other dragons will not stumble upon him.”

I sighed and looked at Kostya, who was examining the room we’d been given. It was a standard-sized bedroom but had a nice bathroom attached. Kostya gave close scrutiny to each window before turning to the door. It opened onto a narrow passage, evidently belonging to servants of centuries gone by. Kostya went over them while Rene chatted with me about how Aisling had planned to go out to the country where her children were housed but would now delay that visit for a couple of days in order to see that all was well here.

“Does it pass muster?” I asked Kostya when he closed the bedroom door on the passage.

“Yes. I had no doubt that it would—as I said, Drake frequently has his children here, and he has a passion for security systems. There are several spells bound into the surface of the door as well, which, coupled with the wards Aisling has drawn on the windows, should keep us from invasion.”

I pursed my lips at the mention of spells and wards but didn’t want to appear ignorant in front of Rene, so I just said, “Good.”

“I have a plan I wish to discuss with Drake,” he told Rene, pulling out the paper he’d peeled off from the tablet. “You will read this to him and report back to me on his thoughts.”

“Ah, the plan of masters, eh?” Rene said, taking the sheets. “Is he to write his responses for you?”

“No. I would not be able to read them. You must take notes of what he thinks and read them to me.”