“Hi, Gary,” I said, watching as he pulled up before my feet. “Your new… home… is indeed pretty unique. I can honestly say that I would never in a million years have thought of putting you in a gerbil bowl, and mounting it on a remote controlled truck.”

“Well, I don’t want to say you lack vision, because that’s rude, but I do have to say that Connie’s strong point is thinking outside of the box.” Gary leaned forward, bumping the stick of the remote control that was taped to floor of the big round clear plastic gerbil ball so that the truck drove a circle around my feet. “Now if he’d just feed me, I could die happy. Not that I’m going to die, because hello! I’m a knocker! But you know what I mean.” He beamed happily at me.

I looked at Constantine. He had the smug look of a man who was pleased with his creativity. “Well, other than being surprised that they made hamster balls large enough to hold your head, I think we’ll just move past all of that and get to the point. Which is Bael.”

Constantine’s jaw flexed, finger twitching. “Drive yourself downstairs and ask Madame Claude to feed you,” he instructed Gary, opening the door for him. “Tell her to bill me for the meal.”

“Oooh, I get to see the doxies? I hear they have both women and men. How exciting! You see, this is going to work out very well,” Gary said as his little truck buzzed out the door. “I don’t suppose my credit would extend as far as—”

“No,” Constantine cut him off. “You must make your own arrangements if you wish to patronize other services of the house.”

Gary sighed dramatically, but winked as he said, “I’ll rely on my skill as a storyteller and my innate charm, then.”

Constantine closed the door on him, leaning against it, his face shuttered, his arms across his chest.

“You cannot get more classically don’t want to talk about it than you are now,” I told him, glancing around the room, and picking out a window seat. I sat on it and patted the cushion next to me. “But that’s not going to work. What is bothering you that you keep making cryptic comments and walking out on me?”

He held his position for a full minute before he unbent and sat down on the window seat, his leg warm and solid next to mine. “What I tell you, only three living beings know, and one of them was my mortal enemy for most of my life.”

“Goodness,” I said, feeling a sudden surge of empathy. “If you’re worried I’ll spill your secret—”

“It matters not,” he said with a sharp gesture, looking at the floor with such an expression of bleak misery that I scooted over so I could put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “After this day, all will know the truth. I will be censured, but I have lived in fear too long. It is true that I hoped to delay it for a few centuries, but that is not to be.”

“Constantine…” A sense of guilt overwhelmed me, driving out the overwhelming urge to kiss the breath right out of his lungs. What right did I have to force the man to bare his soul, just because I wanted him to help me? “I don’t know what it is that you’re afraid of, but I’ve changed my mind—we don’t have to talk about that, or your reasons for not wanting to deal with Bael. I would appreciate any advice you have, however, since I have a job to do, and with all respect to Aisling and her dog, I just don’t have a lot of faith that they can help with Bael. They may find him, but it’s not fair to expect them to do any more than that.”

“I will tell you my reasons. You will understand then why I have avoided this, but you have made me see that refusing to lend my aid will only end in more destruction.” He looked up, the emotion in his eyes now flat and cold. “The deaths on my soul were ones obtained honorably, obtained in the course of the wars between the dragon septs, but I do not seek to have others added to that total. Not when they could be avoided.”

“Good lord. Who do you expect is going to be killed? More dragons? Or someone else? And by whom? Bael?”

“Yes.” Constantine kept his gaze firmly on the wall across from us, his hands fisted where they sat on his thighs. “Bael is… he was not always known as Bael, nor was he born a demon lord.”

“I assume not, since demon lords are made, and not born into the position. Most were mortals that morphed into that via some demonic means or other. Do you know who Bael was before he was a demon lord?”

“He was a dragon.” Constantine took a deep breath.

“Mother of martyrs! A dragon? Why would he curse you guys if he used to be one of you?”

“It is for that reason that he wishes to destroy us. He was not just any dragon. He was a firstborn.”

“What’s that?”

“One of the children of the First Dragon, the progenitor of all dragons who ever were, and who ever will be.”

I edged my hand along his side until it rested on his thigh next to his fist, trying to provide what comfort I could. The pain on his face was etched deep; oddly, I could swear I felt his dragon fire condense down until it was almost extinguished. “I’ve heard of the First Dragon. He was like a demigod, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. He was literally the first dragon. His children formed the dragon septs. All of them but one—Kashi, who was not given a sept because his father did not see in him the signs of a wyvern.”

“What exactly are the signs of a wyvern other than…” I bit back the word stubborn. “… being dominant?”

“Wyverns have many traits that signal their suitability for the position. Kashi wished to control all around him, and a wyvern does not control—he guides, he mentors, he advises—but he does not treat the members of his sept like they are minions, there only to serve him.”

I gave his leg a little squeeze. “Was Bael—Kashi—part of your sept, then?”

“No. He belonged to no sept.” Constantine took a deep breath and turned to face me. “Kashi is my father.”

That was the very last thing I was expecting Constantine to say, and I will admit that my jaw sagged a bit at that statement. “Holy crows, Bael is your dad?”

His expression went blank, just as if a curtain had fallen in front of his face. “Yes.”

“But—couldn’t you—I mean, wouldn’t he listen to you?”