"He? No. Chuan Ren is a woman." Gabriel flicked an amused glance my way. "A lovely woman—lovely but very deadly. She is the wyvern of the red dragons. You have heard of them, of course."

I shook my head, pieces of the puzzle falling into place, a spike of happiness overlaying the questions surrounding Drake's appearance. I squelched the happy thought that the only reason he was escorting the Chinese woman was because she was a fellow wyvern and reminded myself that it was nothing to me what the dragons did.

"He has not spoken to you of her?" Gabriel made a half shrug. "Then I will leave it to him to detail her history."

"I didn't know things were really dicey between you guys," I said, one eye on Jim. A couple of people with small dogs were at the near end of the garden, but no one was close enough to hear my conversation with Gabriel. "I hope the accord goes well. Drake isn't really forthcoming with a lot of information, but to be honest, I haven't asked him about much. And as for me being his mate—well, he hasn't quite accepted the fact that I turned down the position."

"Excellent," he said, clapping his hands together in a gesture of pleasure. "Then it will be that much easier to challenge him."

I shook my head. "Not if you mean to challenge him for me. I understand that you said there's some sort of Latin rule that says you can claim another wyvern's mate, but this girl isn't into dragon-swapping. So thanks but no thanks, if you were thinking along those lines, not that I'm saying you were, because we just met, but if you were, I'm not. So don't. OK?"

He laughed again, and I smiled in response. I had met only one other wyvern, but Gabriel felt different to me. He didn't feel powerful like Drake and Fiat did. His presence was warm, but not overwhelming like Drake's or coolly menacing like Fiat's. "You are charming. I look forward to seeing you at the summit."

He bowed again and was off down the lawn before I could protest that he wouldn't be seeing me again, at least not at any dragon function. Moa stood as I strolled up to fern, greeting her politely. The last thing I needed was to book like a raving idiot to a potential mentor.

"Your demon was telling me that you are a wyvern's mate as well as a Guardian," she answered in response to my comment about the lovely evening. She looked me over again, a slight frown between her brows. "Guardian apprenticeship is long and detailed. It is not something to be done in the spare time. A dragon's mate might have the ability to focus on her training, but a wyvern's mate has many more demands on her time."

I glared at Jim for a moment before turning my attention to Moa. "My demon is a bit confused. Drake is confused. In fact, a lot of people are confused, including, I regret to say, me at times. But I can assure you that I will throw myself wholeheartedly into my Guardian training, and the dragons will not be an issue."

"Really?" She tipped her head to the side, the long blond hair sliding like a curtain of silver. "But the dragons are having their summit here."

"That's just a coincidence—"

She interrupted me before I could finish. "It is being said by all that the summit was moved to this hotel from one in Paris because you, the mate of the green dragon wyvrn, wished to attend the conference. Everyone knows the importance of the role of a wyvern's mate in negotiation, so for you to deny such gives me grave concern about your fitness as an apprentice." She shook her head, saying before she drifted off toward the hotel, "I must give long thought to your candidacy."

"But—but—" I called out after her, sputtering to a stop when it was evident my protests would serve no purpose. My fingers curled into fists as I glared at the innocent hotel. So Drake, who lived in Paris part of the year, had the summit moved to the very hotel that was hosting the GODTAM convention, did he? And he never once bothered to contact me or tell me that he was going to show up here, obviously expecting that I'd fall victim to his sexy self and do whatever he wanted without saying so much as boo in return? Ha! I marched forward, my jaw set as indignation roiled righteously within me. "Jim? I want you to go out and find me a big, long lance. I'm in the slaying mood, and I know just who I'm going to Saint George."

"You know, that term has a sexual connotation"— I gave the demon a look—"Right. Not important. Shutting up now."

I hoisted my purse over my shoulder as I shoved open the door to the hotel. I was armed and ready for battle. Now all I needed was for my foe to show his head and allow me to lop it off with a few well-chosen words.

Chapter 6

One hundred and thirteen.

"There's just nothing so amusing as a really ticked-off Guardian wannabe in dragon-slaying mode when there're no dragons around to oblige her."

I snarled something obscene to Jim as I turned and paced past the demon for the one hundred and fourteenth time.

"You're going to wear a trench in the carpet. Why don't you take a load off for a few minutes, and I'll pace for you?"

One hundred and fifteen.

"Man, I didn't know you could make that face. Do you know that one of Amayon's higher demons looks just like that? Only without the flames shooting out the ears."

"Ack!" I stopped pacing long enough to feel my ears, realized Jim was exaggerating, shot it another glare that should have stripped every last hair off its furry body, and resumed pacing. One hundred and sixteen.

"Just thought a little levity would help the long, long hours pass until Drake comes back from his date with that Chinese babe."

A growl welled up within me, but I squelched it along with the spurt of jealousy. I was not jealous of the red wyvern. I was vaguely, mildly interested, that's all. "It wasn't a date. It was a dinner, a business dinner. With a bunch of other people—Drake's men and the red dragons. You can't date when everyone has bodyguards up to their armpits. One seventeen."

"You know, you should consider switching to decaf. All this nervous energy can't be good for your—oh, boy."

I spun around, my heart leaping at the hope that Drake had returned, but it was a blond vision of godliness rather than a brunette one that swanked his way across the lobby of the Thermal Hotel Danu toward the small, out-of-the-way corner where Jim sat and I paced.

Fiat Bin, so gorgeous he'd make a GQ cover model look as if he'd been covered in hideous boils in comparison., paused on his way to the elevator.