"Aisling, you like more drink? Food, maybe?"

"No, thank you, Zaccheo. I'm just peachy keen." I didn't look up to see the hopeful face of the waiter responsible for serving patrons on the verandah. Zaccheo had been hovering around me ever since I'd sat down to keep my Guardian appointments, rather like an annoying if friendly, pimply eighteen-year-old gawky bee.

"You like me to wait here until you need something?"

"No, thank you. I'm just fine."

"I be just over there if you need me. You call if you want something, yes?"

"Yes," I told the tabletop. "Absolutely. The very second a desire comes to mind, I'll let you know."

"Good. You call. I be over there, by the door. You call."

Zaccheo shuffled away.

"You could have asked him for another couple of sandwiches. This fabulous form of mine needs a lot of food, and that diet you've put me on is going to make it waste away to nothing."

I peered out through my fingers to where Jim was flaked out in the shade beside a bowl of water and an empty bowl that had previously held a chopped-up chicken sandwich. "The vet said you are twenty pounds over the standard for Newfies. No extra snacks, remember? And I'm sorry about hurting your feelings, but do you have to tell everyone that Drake thinks I'm his mate? Every single Guardian has been enthusiastic about me until you pipe up and mention that. I have two more appointments with potential mentors, and I'm telling you right here and now that I forbid you—forbid you—to mention to them that I'm a wyvern's mate!"

"You are a wyvern's mate? A wyvern's mate?"

My head shot up off my hands like it was one of those early NASA rockets. The kind that didn't explode a few feet off the launch pad. On the other side of the round cafe table stood the tall black woman I'd met at the banquet the night before, a businesslike attaché case in her hand, wearing a beautifully patterned African print dress. "Oh. Nora. Hi. Um ... the wyvern thing ., . it's not a certainty, not really. That is a really pretty dress. Are those zebras? I love batiks. There's just something about handmade cloth that really rings my chimes."

She stared expressionless for a moment at me, then her face broke into a smile as she chuckled. Setting her attaché on an adjacent chair, she settled in the one Rose had vacated a few moments before. "Yes, they are zebras, and I quite agree about batiks. You are not very good at changing subjects, are you?"

I groaned and closed my eyes for a moment. Five Guardians down, and Moa left—and she had already expressed her dubiousness about my ability to be an apprentice. Crap.

"Aisling? Are you well? You look tired."

Jim snorted. "She should. What with all the naked guys hopping in and out of her bed all night—"

"Jim!" I yelled.

"Not to mention running to Drake for a little late-night nooky. The poor thing didn't get any rest last night." I poured one of the three pitchers of half-melted ice water that sat on my table onto Jim's head. It yelped in surprise. "Hey!"

I pointed out to the open lawn beyond the verandah. "Go smell the flowers."

Jim got to its feet slowly, water running off its dense black coat. "You're not supposed to leave me unattended, remember? If someone catches me, they'll bind me to limbo until you can fetch me back."

"I'll take that chance. Go. Walk. Smell. No peeing on anything pretty. And if you have to do anything else, just hold it until Nora and I are done talking."

Jim's furry face was sullen. "Is that—"

"Yes, it's an order." I waited until the demon was gone to turn back to Nora. She was making notes on a little pad with a ballpoint that had teeth marks on the non-writing end. I smiled at that. I had a tendency to absentmindedly chew on pens myself when I was trying to write something. "I'm sorry about that. Jim is a little irreverent, but underneath, it's really a good demon."

Her eyebrows raised high above the red frames of her glasses, the lenses of which had reacted to the bright sunlight and turned dark. "It is a good demon?"

"Yeah. I know that's kind of an oxymoron, but the truth is, Jim was cast out of its demon lord's legions. I don't know all the circumstances, but I think it was because Jim's heart wasn't as dark as those of the other demons."

"Demons do not have hearts," she pointed out.

"You want more water, Aisling? You need more water, yes? I saw you use the water I bring you earlier. It is good. Here is more water. I bring it just for you." Zaccheo materialized at my elbow with a tray full of pitchers of ice water. He set them on the table, his eyes, which I can only describe as moony, watching me besottedly the entire time.

"Thanks, Zaccheo. I think five pitchers is my limit."

"Water is good. Very good for the womens. My mother, she tells me this. Very good for their peepees, yes? Makes no trouble there. I go now. You talk. You drink water."

He zipped off to his serving station, a happy smile on bis face. I glanced at Nora. "He's very attentive."

"Yes, I can see that. And evidently well trained by his mother to anticipate a woman's need of water to avoid urinary tract infections. Commendable, that."

I made a half shrug. There was no way I could explain why Zaccheo seemed to be so enamored of me, so I didn't even try. "I suppose you want to know about this wyvern thing."

She accepted the glass of ice water I poured, absent-mindedly plucking out a slice of lemon and squeezing it into the water. "Yes, but to be honest, I'm more interested in hearing about the naked men hopping in and out of your bed all night long."

"OK," I said, placing both palms down on the table to lean forward, "Let me just say right here and now that I had nothing to do with that, nothing at all. They were incubi, and they were definitely not invited. Jim makes it sound like there was a whole battalion of them, but there wasn't."

"No? How many were there?"

Even through the darkened lenses of her glasses I could see the amusement in her eyes.

"Er ... six. No, seven. But the last one got a little confused., and he ended up making a play for Drake."

"Ah. Drake. That would be Drake Vireo, the green wyvern, the dragon whose mate you say you are not?"

"Yes, that's him."