“Resigned.” The demon dog snorted. “Yeah, if you call him threatening to take you and the spawn away and leaving everyone else behind as resigned, then I guess so. Hey, Vicky, are you a Wiccan? No? You’re not a mage, ’cause you don’t have that smell of arcane magic around you, and you’re not a naiad, because I know all about what they smell like.” It tipped its head at me. “May’s twin is a naiad.”

“May?” I asked.

The dark-haired woman looked over from where she had been conversing in a low tone with Aisling. “Oh, hello. Yes, I’m May.”

“This is Vicky and Ernest. They’re with the band.” Aisling frowned. “What’s the problem with the First Dragon?”

May glanced toward us. “Er ... I’m sure these people don’t want to hear about it.”

Andrew murmured something about it not bothering him at all.

“Actually, I’ve always been fascinated by you dragons,” I found myself saying. “I think it’s the juxtaposition of the traditional image of big, scaly fire-breathing dragons with people who look perfectly normal.”

Aisling gave a short bark of laughter. “They may look normal, but I guarantee you they aren’t.” She turned back to her friend. “I don’t think Vicky and Ernest care if we talk shop. What is going on with the First Dragon?”

May gestured toward the house. “He won’t take our room. Gabriel is horrified at the thought that you gave us the best room, and the First Dragon should have to sleep in lesser accommodations. I’d say it was cute, but he truly is genuinely distressed. You know how he feels about honoring the First Dragon.”

“All the wyverns do, even if Drake makes a fuss about having him here,” Aisling said, pinching her lower lip. “They’re so fusty and old-fashioned at times. Well, if he doesn’t want to have your room, he doesn’t have to. Lord knows this house has enough rooms that he can sleep wherever he wants.”

“That’s just it. He said something about sleeping in the gatehouse, I think. Do you have a gatehouse?”

Aisling gave a wry smile. “We do. Drake had it done up in case his mother ever visits. The First Dragon can stay there with my blessing.”

“I’ll go tell Gabriel so he can stop worrying.” May flashed us a smile. “Nice to meet you. I look forward to the show.”

Aisling watched her trot off to the house before turning back to us. “Sorry, guys—slight crisis. Where were we?”

“No problem,” I said at the same time that Andrew asked casually, “You said there’s a demigod here?”

“The dragon progenitor, yes.” She made a face. “I don’t think he’s that bad, but the wyverns—those are the leaders of the dragon septs, if you aren’t hip to dragonkin—are all aflutter at the idea that the head honcho has come down to the mortal plane for a bit.”

“Indeed, that has to be a very great honor,” Andrew said in a silky smooth voice that instantly made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He was a true grifter, our Andrew, able to talk his way in and out of the most difficult situations. And now he was using that voice on Aisling. ... Mentally, I shook my head. I doubted if he would have the same effect on dragons as he did the others we had met in the last two years since we’d formed the band. “Will he be at the show tonight? I’d love to meet a real demigod.”

“Who knows?” Aisling shrugged. “He very much gets to do exactly what he wants, and I have no idea if he’s into music.”

“Dude’s been around a gazillion years,” Jim said, eyeing one of the speakers. “Can’t live that long without getting into some tunes.”

“I’ll invite him to watch you perform, of course, but beyond that, no promises. Jim, so help me god if you even think of peeing on that speaker, I’ll send you to the Akasha and you’ll miss the whole show.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Jim said, but obediently moved away from our equipment. “I’m amazed you haven’t given me a pee complex what with all the bossiness! No piddling on shrubs, Jim. No pinching a log in the flower beds, Jim. Effrijim, I command thee to stop peeing on the leg of that stranger. Sheesh! I’m going off to visit the little demons’ room now, OK? And I might be a while what with having to work through my issues after you’ve stifled my creative peeing.”

“Good,” Aisling said, shooing the dog off. “Just make sure it’s downwind and in one of the designated potty spots. Now, Vicky and Ernest, let’s talk timing. Dinner will be at six, so if you start around eight, that should give us time to put the smaller kids to bed. ...”

Andrew, Aisling, and I spent the next five minutes discussing specifics, all of which were moot because we were going to do our own thing, but of course, I couldn’t let Aisling know that.

Not for the first time, guilt pricked at my conscience, reminding me that what I was doing was wrong. I hadn’t been raised to take advantage of people—far to the contrary. But that, I told myself as Aisling hurried off to her friends and family, was the path my life had taken once I discovered my secret talent. “And unfortunately, there’s not a damned thing I can do about it,” I said under my breath.

“About what?”

Dammit, I forgot that Andrew had such good hearing. I gave him a wan smile, and absentmindedly coiled up one of the cords that lay tangled behind the closest speaker. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

He gave me a curious look. “You aren’t thinking about backing out, are you?”

I did a good approximation of an astonished gape. “Are you kidding?”

“Because I know you were upset the last time.” His gaze was a lot shrewder than I liked. “I told you then and I’ll tell you again that we aren’t hurting anyone. We only hit people who can afford to lose a bit of their blood money.”

“You don’t know—” I started to say, but stopped immediately, warned by the frown that suddenly appeared between his brows. I held up a hand and added, “Never mind. I’m not backing out.”

Not now. Not until I found a way to escape them.

Dear goddess, I hoped I found a way, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this without either burning out my brain or killing my soul.