“Pfft,” Bee said, waving the thought away. “We don’t have to fly. We can take a portal.”

“Oooh, a portal,” came the muffled voice of Gary. This was followed by a pause, then, “What’s a portal?”

“Hush. We’ll tell you when we get there,” Bee said loudly, ignoring the hoots of two male youths who just noticed their shackles. “I bet there’s a portal shop somewhere in this town. It looks big enough. Drat. My phone is back in my cell. Let’s find an Internet café, and we can look up local portal facilities.”

“I have a smart phone,” Constantine said somewhat proudly.

Bee shot him a considering look. “I always thought dragons had an aversion to technology.”

“Most do not care for it, but there are some who appreciate it. I am one. I enjoy much of the new technologies. The episode with Twatter aside, of course.”

Bee mouthed the word Twatter before shaking her head and halted when she reached a café with small metal tables painted white infringing on the sidewalk. “I really don’t want to know where you found that site. Right, we can sit here and have a big glass of ice-cold lemonade, and you can locate the nearest portal place, and then we’ll get ourselves to Paris, and have the shackles taken off, and I can Charm the curse. Sound like a plan?” She plopped down in one of the chairs and tucked Gary under the table.

“Would it be possible to get a glass of ice water? With lemon?” the latter asked as Bee hailed a waiter. “I’m parched, and your sweater is making it a bit stuffy in here.”

“Hush while we’re around mortals who could hear you,” Bee said, gesturing to a waiter before slanting a glance up at where Constantine still stood. “You can sit down, you know. It would allow my leg to be a bit more comfortable if you did so. I don’t know why Asmodeus had them attached to us anyway, since he put the kibosh on you slipping into the spirit world. What point did the shackles make after that?”

“Asmodeus likes to throw people off balance. He says it helps make them vulnerable,” Gary offered from under the table. “But honestly, I think he’s just a big ole meany-pants, and he gets his jollies from messing with people.”

“Hush,” Bee reminded the head before tugging at the chain.

Constantine sat, but slowly. “Your plan does not have merit. Or rather, the part concerning a portal company does not. We will go to Paris, yes, but first we must remove these shackles. They make it difficult to walk, and I cannot imagine fighting while being so hindered.”

“Fighting who? Demons?” Bee’s voice dropped when a waiter delivered a tray of beverages to a nearby table. “Look, I want the shackles off just as much as you, but unless I’m very much mistaken, it’s not going to be a matter of simply finding someone with some bolt cutters. Or a locksmith. These are a demon lord’s shackles. They aren’t normal.”

The waiter finally gave them his attention. Constantine absently ordered lemonade for Bee, and a pitcher of ice water. “I know what they are, which is why I want them removed immediately.”

Bee looked insulted. “It’s not a barrel of monkeys being strapped to you, either.”

Constantine was about to point out that he simply wanted to be able to protect them should they need that ability, but was distracted. “Why would you put monkeys in a barrel? Is it an odd sexual kink that I’ve not heard of?”

“Why would you even go there?” Bee asked, squinting at him. “How do you get from barrel of monkeys to sexual kinks? Wait—you aren’t one of those freaky guys who gets off on things like animals and bondage and… well, I guess barrels—are you?”

“I am not freaky,” Constantine said with much dignity. “There is no sense of freaky in exploring those items and apparatuses meant to enhance sexual pleasure. It is an entirely normal and natural thing.”

Bee stared at him for a second before shaking her head, and saying softly, “No. Not going to ask.”

“I will,” came Gary’s muffled voice. “What sort of apparatuses?”

Constantine ignored the head, instead pulling out his phone. “I see there are a number of locksmiths within walking distance. We will try them, and while they are working on the shackles, I will find us a flight to Paris.”

“Flight?” Bee waited a minute for their drinks to be placed on the table before continuing. “Why bother when there’s bound to be a portal office here?”

“I don’t wish to use the portal.” Constantine got lost in a search for flights from Seville to Paris, and shook the phone in an attempt to reset it. “We will fly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It will cost more to fly, not to mention take a lot longer. Plus, it’ll be easier to get you-know-who to Paris.”

“Are you talking about me?” Gary asked. “You are, aren’t you? I can tell you are.”

“Then he can stay here,” Constantine said.

“I don’t want to stay in Seville! Bee, don’t let him leave me here. I dehydrate easily!”

“Constantine,” Bee said severely, evidently about to read him the riot act, then her expression softened. She reached across the table and gave his hand a quick pat, an act that shocked him almost as much as it gave him a little spurt of pleasure. How long had it been since a woman had initiated physical contact with him? “Okay, what gives? What do you have against portals? It’s obvious you don’t want to use one, but I don’t understand why.”

“Dragonkin do not like portals,” he said, stretching his hand to stroke hers in return. He half expected her to recoil from the touch, but she just looked puzzled.

Whereas he felt as if his hand was alight.

“In what way?” she asked.

He shrugged, both at the question and the fact that someone other than the glorious Ysolde could give him a tiny morsel of pleasure. “We do not travel well through them. It is something to do with our physical properties and the act of portaling through space. We come out… rumpled.”

“No one is going to judge you on whether you’re suitable to go on the cover of GQ,” she chided, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter under her breath, “which you are.”

“Regardless, we will take a plane.”

“It’ll cost more. Come on, you can’t tell me that a big brave dragon like you is afraid of one little portal?”