“We didn’t expect you to take off and try to find the talisman,” Aoife said at the same time. “Kostya sent word to a thief-taker who was supposed to do that job. We had no idea you were going to try to get it, so really, you only have yourself to blame if you took it upon yourself to find the talisman.”

“Silly me trying to do my job my efficiently because you dragons were taking so long.” She held up a hand when Kostya started to protest. “Let’s just agree that there could have been better communication on both sides, and stop beating that particular dead horse. We have more important things to do than argue. Just how did you find out that Bael laid the curse on you guys?”

Constantine enjoyed watching Bee struggle to rein in her temper. He liked the way that, other than an initial burst of anger, she didn’t waste time throwing around blame. She simply reacted, then focused her attention on what needed to be done next. Kostya slid a quick look toward Aoife, who blushed. “That fact came out only after Bael was released.”

“Inadvertently released,” Aoife said quickly.

“Goddess, you’re not going to tell me that Bael is loose now?” Bee asked. “Out of Abaddon? In the world with us?”

Constantine closed his eyes for a moment. Life simply could not get any worse.

“He is,” Kostya said abruptly.

“I… er… I tried to break the curse using the ring, and it ended up summoning Bael from the Abaddon,” Aoife admitted, meeting her sister’s eyes for the first time. “Yes, it’s all my fault, and don’t think I haven’t beaten myself up about it ever since that day, because I have.”

“You are not responsible for Bael,” Kostya said, pulling Aoife against him. The set of his jaw dared anyone to dispute his declaration.

Bee clearly was not impressed by such a show, and one part of Constantine’s mind, the part not busy shrieking and screaming dire warnings, was vastly amused by that fact. She might irritate his sense of what was right, but she was a woman who was not afraid to face difficulty.

“I am, though,” Aoife said, looking distressed. “It’s because of me that he’s out and about, and that G&T was burned down. If only we could get the talisman—”

“Well, you can’t,” Bee interrupted in her down-to-earth tone that made Constantine want to smile, and if he hadn’t been so close to going insane with abhorrence, he might have done so. “Right, so now we have to find Bael, and then steal a talisman. Any idea where he is?”

“He had been in Asmodeus’s palace,” Kostya said.

Bee shook her head even before he stopped speaking. “We were just there. All we saw was Asmodeus, right, Constantine?”

Constantine, locked in a world of misery and horror that was rooted in his past, did not answer. He couldn’t answer… at least, he couldn’t admit the truth. Not to Bee. The thought of what she’d think, of the repulsion that would fill her face when she knew… no. He couldn’t bear that.

“He left a few days ago, just before Asmodeus returned from a visit elsewhere, or at least that’s what we assume. We had dragons watching, but he escaped our surveillance and went to ground somewhere.” Kostya gave a little one-shouldered shrug. “We do not know where.”

“Which of course makes it infinitely more difficult to find a talisman. If only I’d known this before—” Bee stopped, and shook her head at her own statement. “Ignore that. I said let’s not beat that dead horse, and I won’t.”

“Speaking of your ghostly ways,” Kostya said, giving Constantine a gimlet eye, “why are you still here? You usually fade away to nothing the second you are wanted.”

Constantine dragged his mind from the blackness that consumed it, and glared at his godson. “You forget yourself, Konstantin Nikolai Fekete. More, you forget to whom you speak.”

“I speak to the traitor who is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of dragons.”

Bee shot him a startled look. He ignored it, focusing his ire on the upstart before him. “I do not have time to teach your place, nor the true facts of what happened all those centuries ago. There are other things more important than you that I must accomplish in order to save all dragonkin.”

“That’s right,” Bee said, nodding her head and surreptitiously taking his hand. He was startled by the contact, not just because she initiated it despite her stated dislike of dragons, but because the touch set the fire smoldering inside him to a blaze. No woman had done that since he had lost Ysolde. “We have more important things to do, like finding Bael, and stealing a talisman from him. I guess we’d better get started on that. Where was Bael last seen?”

“Here in Paris,” Kostya answered somewhat sulkily.

“Excellent. Then we can get started right away on the job. We can start at the Paris entrance to Asmodeus’s palace, and try to resurrect a trail for him. Sound good, Constantine?”

“No,” he answered, and without another word, he released Bee’s hand, picked up Gary, and strode out of the G&T.

Eight

“Constantine!”

The voice that chased him was full of disbelief and frustration. He knew both sensations well. He’d lived with them for most of his life. Both lives.

“I think Bee wants you, Connie,” Gary said helpfully, looking out of the back of the cage. A woman they passed on the street gasped, stumbled, and toppled forward in a faint. “Goodness. Woman down! Maybe you should stop and help her.”

“Constantine, where are you going? Why did you just walk out like that?” Bee’s voice was breathless as she hurried after them.

“That’s definitely Bee,” Gary said, squinting against the sun. He turned when they approached a couple of teenage girls, making a movement that could be interpreted as a bow, and said politely, “Bonjour, desmoiselles.”

The girls didn’t bat an eyelash at him.

“Constantine! For the love… pardon me, madam, I didn’t mean to step on your hand. Did you fall? Here, let me help you up, and then I really must dash…”

Bee’s voice grew fainter as Constantine marched onward, pausing only when he came to a street corner.

“This is fun,” Gary chirped, smiling at everyone on the street. “It’s been forever since I was out of Abaddon. Paris has changed so much since I was alive. Oooh, a boulangerie! I would murder for a fresh croissant. I don’t suppose you’re a bit peckish? Bonjour, monsieur et madam. Bonjour, bonjour, everyone!”