“I’m going to see if the portal lady has any clothes handy, since Gabriel’s appear to be lost to the portal—” May stopped, staring at Avval’s back. “That’s—the First Dragon has a dragon tattoo.”

“Isn’t it pretty?” His shirt was on backward, but not buttoned, so I pulled it off and helped him put his arms into it the proper way round. “The tail of it goes down his left thigh. ...” I paused as both May and Ysolde stared at me in openmouthed amazement.

I blushed what felt like five different shades of red.

Baltic pushed himself up off the chair, weaved heavily, then fell back onto it. “Knew it. He works fast when he wants to.”

Avval, who was trying to reach behind himself to get at his fly, straightened up and gave Baltic a look that fathers had given sons for eons. “You forget yourself, Baltic. Apologize to Charity.”

To my complete surprise, Baltic’s expression turned contrite for about three seconds. “My apologies. I spoke without thinking. I blame the portal.”

Avval snorted, but allowed me to move around behind him to unbuckle his belt.

“Um ...” I glanced at the other two ladies, then leaned in and whispered, “Are you wearing underwear? Because if you aren’t, this is going to be a bit dicey.”

He said nothing, just dropped his pants as soon as I unzipped them, and put them on the right way. I spent a few moments feeling smug because my dragon had all his garments, including undies, until I realized what my mind was doing.

The First Dragon was not mine. He was a demigod, one who could not get emotionally involved with a mortal being. Fun sexy times notwithstanding, he was nothing to me, and it had to remain that way no matter what my hopeful heart had been planning while I busy being kidnapped and stuffed through a portal against my will.

“What the everlasting hell is going on?” Another door that I hadn’t noticed was thrown open, and the thief taker stood in the doorway, scowling first at me, then with growing astonishment at the dragons scattered around the room. “Holy hellballs. What did you do to them, siren?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but I had no time to answer before he rushed forward, pulling a roll of duct tape from his pocket. He slapped a piece of tape over my mouth, and had me by one arm, pulling me toward the open door by the time I realized what had happened.

There was a roar of anger from behind me, and suddenly, Savian was pressed against the wall, held a good two feet off the ground by Avval.

A furious Avval. “What have you done, mortal?”

Savian squawked something, his face turning beet red. He clutched at the hand that held him by the throat, his legs kicking helplessly.

“Answer me!” Avval roared, and I swear the building shook.

I braced myself, then jerked off the tape, muttering under my breath and rubbing my abused lips while glaring at my erstwhile captor. “That’s the second time today that you’ve done that, and I’m even less happy about it this time!”

“Savian!” May came into the room with a handful of clothing, having evidently caught the last part of the action. “You taped Charity’s mouth shut? That’s heinous!”

Savian made a gesture that would probably have been a shrug if he wasn’t, at that moment, being throttled to death.

“I will not tolerate this,” Avval thundered.

“You won’t have to if you keep choking him like that,” I said, tapping him gently on the hand that squeezed Savian’s throat. “You might want to let him have some air so that he’s still alive when I beat the ever-living tar out of him.”

With a snarl, Avval released Savian, the latter falling to the ground with ragged, desperate gasps of air.

Avval spun around and demanded of Ysolde, “Release me from my oath so that I might smite this mortal.”

“What? Me?” Ysolde, who had managed to get Baltic onto his feet, looked startled. Drake was also up on his feet, although he was clutching the back of a chair to keep upright.

“There will be no smiting on my behalf,” I said calmly, although I managed to accidentally step on Savian’s fingers.

He moaned and tried to crawl away, but Avval yanked him to his feet. “You will not take Charity to your overlord.”

Savian, cradling his hand, said hoarsely, “My what, now? And just who are you?”

“Oh, do allow me to make the introductions. Savian, meet the First Dragon, the demigod who created the race of dragons. First Dragon, this is the man who picked me up on the way to the train station, slapped tape over my mouth so I couldn’t sing, tied my hands behind my back, and dragged me over half the countryside of Hungary looking for a portal that worked.” I glanced at my watch. It was almost dawn.

Avval looked as if I’d punched him in the balls. “You were not kidnapped by the musicians?”

“Not so much, no. I ... uh ... I thought it was best that I leave, and I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“You left without telling me,” Avval said, his eyes stricken. “Why did you not tell me so I could accompany you?”

The lack of sleep made me want to laugh at the outrage in his voice, but I knew he didn’t see any humor in the situation. With a glance at the others, I took him by the arm and led him to the far corner. “I’m sorry I left without telling you.”

“Why did you leave me?” There was pain in his eyes, now a bluish green.

I put a hand on his chest. The sensation of his warm chest under my fingers stirred all sorts of desires within me. “I didn’t leave you so much as I escaped confinement. I woke up, and you weren’t there, and it suddenly struck me that I was at the mercy of all the dragons, and you have to admit that you guys aren’t particularly known for being merciful. I worried ...” I stopped, not wanting to admit the fright that had taken hold of me a few hours before and convinced me that I had to leave Avval.

“About what did you worry?”

I glanced at the others, but they were ignoring us to argue amongst themselves. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I left because I didn’t want to fall in love with him, since we could have no future together. Instead, I grabbed at the first excuse I could think of. “I worried that the other dragons would want to use me for their own gain.”

“They would not,” he said firmly, the pain easing from his eyes. “My kin hold what is theirs—that is true—but they do not resort to using another in order to gain those treasures.”