Ysolde goggled again. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. “I—he’s your—you mean the First Dragon is his—Why didn’t you tell me?”

Baltic managed to shrug even while looking like he was about to pounce. “It never occurred to me that you didn’t know.”

“Well, I didn’t!” Ysolde turned to me, and asked softly, “Who exactly are you?”

“My name is Bee Dakar. I’m a Charmer.”

“I do not believe my situation is as dire as you would like to believe,” Bael said, brushing off dust from drywall before slowly sauntering forward. I wanted to scream at Constantine to get the sword away, but he just stood there until his father stood a couple of yards in front of him. “In fact, I believe the odds are with me.”

Constantine raised the sword so that it stood between them. “You will not find us so easy to overcome.”

Bael pursed his lips for a moment, glancing from Constantine to Baltic, and then to Ysolde. His gaze touched me for a moment, but since I was now behind both Ysolde and Baltic, I managed to stand the experience without flinching. “Perhaps not. Very well, have it your way.”

And with a gesture like that of someone sweeping back the door to a tent, he simply waved open the fabric of space, and a handful of demons leaped through, each brandishing a sword. They skidded to a stop, looking at Bael for instructions.

“Run, Constantine! Save the sword!” I yelled again, trying to get around Ysolde and Baltic in order to grab Constantine and forcibly drag him from the room.

“That is not the light sword,” Baltic said calmly, moving forward to block my path. In his hand, the crystal thrummed for a few seconds, then elongated into a beautiful sword that appeared to be made of blue-and-white light. “Only a black dragon can handle arcane magic.”

Ysolde finished casting her spell, flinging her hands wide just as Bael gave the command to attack.

Constantine and Baltic, side by side now, lifted their swords and prepared to defend us from the demons. My heart seemed to contract with fear, and I realized something profound: I was falling in love with Constantine.

I didn’t have time to do more than to admire him as he flexed his hands, ready for the attack, before a flash of insight struck me: we didn’t have to look anywhere else for Bael’s talisman.

The ring suddenly grew hot and heavy on my finger, dragging my attention to our immediate surroundings. I pulled hard on the ring’s magic, planning to focus it on Bael, but a fraction of a second before Bael brought his hands together in a dramatic gesture, I knew with every ounce of my being that we were about to be destroyed.

The resulting shock wave not only threw us all backward, it flattened the building, sending walls, bricks, roof, and timber down on top of us.

Fourteen

“I’m seriously tired of having this building coming down on top of me.”

Bee’s voice was strained and thin, but Constantine could have greeted the sound of it with cries of joy. Instead, he carefully levered off a part of the wall that had collapsed down onto a long desk and flung rubble out of the way until she was revealed to him.

“You’re a mess,” he said, not wondering at the way his heart lightened just by the sight of her dust-streaked face. Her hair was sticking out all over, partially turned white by plaster dust, bits of paper and wood, and bits of upholstery from an armchair. Her shirt was torn off of one shoulder, with little speckles of blood, but his quick gaze reassured him that it was minor scratches, and nothing more. She was filthy, dirty, and blood-streaked, and coughed and spat up bits of dust, wheezing like an asthmatic at a cigar bar.

And the world was a better place because she was in it, swearing like a stevedore in between coughing attacks.

He kicked aside a broken bit of chair and gently helped her up, rubbing her back in an attempt to ease the distress.

“Is everyone—” Bee broke off to cough again. Her voice was as rough as sandpaper. Even that seemed charming to Constantine. “Is everyone okay? Ysolde? Baltic? Where’s Gary?”

“I’m here. I think. Golly, what happened?”

Constantine waited until Bee had her balance before releasing her to toss aside a painting, part of a settee, and a chunk of Sheetrock, pulling Gary out of the remains of his hamster ball. He, too was covered in dust and dirt, his hair resembling a porcupine’s back with slivers of wood and glass poking out at all angles. Constantine picked the worst of it off and propped him up on the remains of a chair before turning to look to the other side of the room. He’d seen Baltic and Ysolde as soon as he hauled himself out from under the part of the roof that had fallen on them, so he knew they were alive, at least.

“Are you hurt?” he called to them, wondering that he wasn’t panicked with worry about Ysolde’s state of health. He felt vaguely guilty over that, but decided that since Bee wasn’t immortal or mated to a dragon who would give his life to protect her, it was only right and proper that he be more concerned about her.

“Ysolde was struck on the head, but she appears to be unharmed,” Baltic answered.

“Thankfully, I have a thick skull,” Ysolde said with an attempt at a smile.

Rather than rushing to her side to make sure that she wasn’t overestimating her state of health, Constantine simply nodded, then proceeded to clear a path before up-righting the remains of a chair so Bee could sit down.

“I’m fine, really,” she protested when he insisted that she allow him to tend her wounds. “I think the ring did something to protect us, because I had this flash of insight right as Bael did whatever it was that brought the place down around our ears. I mean, we shouldn’t have survived that, should we?”

“You shouldn’t have,” he agreed, pulling out the tail of his shirt and tearing off a piece of it. He dabbed gently at the bloody specks on her shoulder and upper arm, pleased to see that none of the wounds were deep or serious. “The ring definitely protected you and quite possibly cushioned the rest of us as well.”

“Except the Venediger and Guillaume,” she said sadly, and reached out to pull Gary onto her lap. Constantine was horrified to see her eyes well up with tears. “I can’t help but feel partially responsible for their deaths. I know that it was Bael’s decision to kill them, and ultimately the blame must lie squarely on his shoulders, but he wouldn’t have been here if we hadn’t tried to break the curse. And speaking of that, I’ve had an idea.”