“You know full well what I mean,” I told the look. “Why didn’t you mention that your mother was alive and well and prone to walking in on you at any moment?”

“I had no idea she was in this hemisphere, let alone in England. She loathes England. That’s why she gave me this house. I doubt if she’s been to this country more than three times in the last hundred years.”

I took a deep breath as Drake paused outside the double doors I knew led to a formal library. I’d had a quick tour of the house when we arrived, just enough to see that it wasn’t so much a house as a small mansion, but none of that mattered now. Inside that room was someone I’d never expected to have to meet, and certainly not in the circumstances I’d just found myself.

“Made it downstairs, did you? So many comments come to mind,” Jim said, sitting up from where it was lying on the gray marble floor.

“You make just one of them, and it’s back to limbo for you,” I warned.

Jim evidently read with unusual accuracy the threat in my eyes. “Sheesh! Fine. Make a big deal about it. It’s not like I haven’t heard you two going at it before.”

I narrowed my eyes and thought about a nifty curse Nora had told me about that turned the target into a slug.

“I’m really impressed with the flame-proof quality of your bedding,” Jim said in a conversational tone to Drake as the latter swung open the double doors. “Think I can get a dog bed made up in something like that for when Ash gets pissed at me? The last time she got really annoyed, she singed my blanket.”

“Behave yourself, or there won’t be anything left of you to need a bed,” I whispered, slapping a smile on my face that I felt far from feeling. The four people in the room—Nora, Pal, Istvan, and Drake’s mother—turned to look at us as Drake gently pushed me into the room.

“So. Here you are,” the dark-haired, olive-skinned woman said from a gold brocade couch. Nora was perched next to her, Paco at her feet. Pal and Istvan sat in chairs opposite, both looking uncomfortable. They leaped to their feet as Drake entered the room.

“Yes, we are here. Kincsem, this is my mother, Dona Catalina de Elferez.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said pleasantly, lying through my teeth as I held out my hand for her.

She looked at it like it might contain toads.

“Mother,” Drake said in a voice rife with warning.

I dropped my hand when she stood up, her dark eyes hard as she looked me over from feet to forehead. I felt hideously gawky and awkward despite wearing clothing Drake had purchased for me—a lovely pair of raw-silk black pants and a flowing fuchsia shirt that highlighted my assets. “Your woman is unacceptable.”

“That’s the second time today someone has said that.” My nerves were clearly a bit on edge, but despite the desire to snap at her, I kept a pleasant expression on my face. “Your nephew shares that opinion, for which I’m very sorry.”

“You look tired.” Catalina ignored me completely, examining Drake’s face for a moment. “You are unhappy.”

“On the contrary, at the moment I am quite content,” he answered, escorting me to a loveseat that sat at right angles to the couch. “You, however, are being unforgivably rude to my mate. Aisling has done nothing to justify such hostility and poor manners on your part.”

“Mate!” she shrieked, sending me a look that could have dropped a horse.

My fingernails bit into my palms as I squelched back any number of things I wanted to say. To my surprise, Jim marched over and sat next to me, leaning on my leg as if to offer support. I was touched by that, as well as by Drake’s hand, which he kept on my shoulder as he stood on my other side. I felt oddly protected by the two of them, although why I needed to be protected from Drake’s mother was beyond me.

“She is human!” Catalina accused, pointing a scarlet-tipped finger at me.

“Yes, she is,” Drake answered calmly. His fingers tightened slightly on my shoulder. I took that as a sign that he appreciated my silence while he dealt with his mother.

“You cannot have a mate who is human! You are a wyvern!”

“I know what I am. I also know what Aisling is, what the rules governing the weyr are, and the history of the sept. Regardless of all three, Aisling is my mate. The sept has accepted her. You would be wise to do the same.”

“Wise?” Her voice had a Spanish accent that became more noticeable as she shrieked. I had a few moments of trouble with the fact that she didn’t look any older than Drake—or me, for that matter—but pushed that aside to cope with the important things happening before me. “You are as insolent as your father was! If I had known you would shame me in this way, I would never have allowed them to rip you from my belly!”

Pal and Istvan sidled toward the door.

“I think I’ll just take Paco for a walk,” Nora said quietly, following the two men. She slid me a sympathetic glance as she left. I gave her a feeble smile and wished like the dickens I could escape with her.

“And you are being deliberately insulting,” Drake answered as the door closed behind Nora. “If you are finished—”

“I have not yet begun to express myself,” she snarled, storming toward me, her black eyes lit with an unholy glint.

Jim stood up, the hackles between its shoulders standing on end as it gave a low-pitched warning growl. I stared in surprise at Jim for a second. It had never growled before, not even when various people were trying to kill me.

Catalina stopped, waves of hostility rolling off her. I wondered what I had done that set her so against me. “The mortal has a demon. How fitting.”

My hackles rose at the tone in her voice. I sat up straighter, aware that Drake moved closer until his leg was pressed against my arm. “Do not, Mother,” Drake said, the note of warning back in his voice.

Her eyes narrowed on him. She spat out something that had me flinching, even though I didn’t understand it. “You dare to criticize me? You made this choice, Drake. You cannot blame me or anyone else for having this response to your slap in the face of dragon tradition.”

‘Tradition has been broken in the past and survived,” he said somewhat cryptically.

“Cabron!”

I pursed my lips. I knew from watching Spanish-speaking TV that Drake’s mother had just called him a bastard.