"So he lives here?" Hope rose within me. All the creepy paranormal stuff aside, if she had heard of him, that meant he must be local.

She pursed her lips. "No, I believe the main lair of the green dragons is in Hungary. But he is a frequent visitor to Paris, if that is what you are asking."

I stifled the nervous little giggle that wanted to come out. "This is probably going to sound really silly, but are you trying to tell me that Drake, Drake Vireo, about six foot two, dark hair, green eyes, gorgeous voice is a … well, a dragon?"

Amelie didn't smile as I expected. Instead, her eyes narrowed as she examined me. "Drake Vireo is not just a dragon. He is a wyvern. The green wyvern."

"Wait," I said, shaking my head and gripping the counter so I wouldn't fall over. "Isn't a wyvern another name for a two-legged dragon? One with wings and a barbed tail?"

"Yes," she said slowly, her blue eyes growing darker. "It is also the name for the leader of a dragon sept. His name explains that."

I rubbed my forehead. "You've lost me."

"Drake—a modernization of the Latindraco, mean-ing 'dragon.'Vireo is also Latin. It means 'green.' Only wyverns are allowed to use their sept color as a name."

"Can we go back to the part about Drake being a mythical creature who breaths fire and consumes virgins and all that? Because I just can't seem to wrap my brain around that idea. He was … He was so masculine. Gor-geous. Sexy as hell. He didn't look at all like a big scaly lizard wearing a human suit."

"Immortals do not need to wear human suits. They can change form," she said a bit scornfully, then suddenly leaned forward and placed both hands on my head, her fingers touching my temples. I was too tired to be alarmed, too exhausted to be scared. Besides, her touch wasn't unpleasant. She hummed a soft little song, her fin-gers gently stroking my temples.

"You do not understand of what I speak, and yet I feel in you great power, great possibilities," she said dream-ily, her eyes closed as she continued to stroke my head. "You are untouched by the dark powers, and yet you were born to harness them. You are a wyvern's mate, and yet he did not claim you. You are a puzzle that has no end and no beginning."

"Whoa," I said, my muscles all stiffening at the words "wyvern's mate." "Let's just take a step back from that idea, shall we?"

She released my head and moved over to the stool, her brows pulled together in a puzzled frown.

"Look, all I want to know is where I can find Drake. He stole something from me."

She nodded. "The green dragons are thieves. That is their skill. He is their wyvern—he would naturally be a very talented thief. And you know how it is with drag-ons."

I raised my eyebrows.

"They hoard treasure." A faint smile curled her lips.

"Um… I think I'm just going to let that one go. Do you know where Drake lives?"

"No."

My shoulders slumped.

"But I know where you can find him most evenings."

I sat up straight. "Where?"

"The same place you can find anyone of consequence— G & T. It is a club on Rue de la Grande Pest—'the street of the great plague.'"

"Sounds like a lovely neighborhood. G & T … gin and tonic?"

"Goety and theurgy," she answered. ("Black and white magic." How fitting.)

"Thanks for the coffee. And the information," I said as I gathered up my things, knowing I was close to the end of my energy … and my sanity.

She watched me walk all the way down the length of the counter to the door before she spoke up. "Aisling, a word of warning from one who wishes you well."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. Anything more would have taken too much energy.

"Do not close your mind to the possibilities. To do so will not only deny you your rightful place in this world, but it can also mean great destruction to those you love."

I glanced out through the open door to the street out-side filled with sunshine and happy, dragon-free Parisians. "Don't tell me—the fate of the whole world rests on my shoulders?"

"Perhaps," was all she said.

I looked back at her, summoning up the last of my strength for a smile. "Thanks, but I've got enough on my plate right now without worrying about a bunch of stuff that doesn't even come close to being real. Maybe I'll see you again some time."

"Of that, you can be sure," she said. "I would not wish to miss your entrance into the Otherworld."

I went out into the warm sunny street without saying anything else. There was just nothing left to say. 4

“And then I said to her, Rachel, you're out of your ever-lovin' mind. There's no way in h-e-double-tooth-picks you'd findme hookin' up with a faery, especially one of the unseelie court, no

matter how well hung he is. Ya just never know with them, do ya? I heard about a witch in Quebec who crossed one of the unseelie princes, and she ended up with three breasts. Can you imagine what she goes through trying to find a bra that fits?"

I paused, surprised not by the words—I'd had the whole day to come to grips with the fact that everyone in Paris was evidently either on drugs or suffering from mass hypnosis (I couldn't quite face the alternative)—but by the Texas drawl that spoke them. Soft, rather eerie music pulsed with an almost palpable beat through the club, music as smoky as the air that surrounded me. I peered through the depths to the bar, a long U-shaped wooden structure that sat in the center of the room. Near-est me a perfectly normal-looking woman in jeans and a T-shirt was chatting with a tall blonde in a slinky black dress. Neither one of them looked crazy, despite the sub-ject of their conversation. I dragged my eyes back to the waitress as she headed over to a small table in the far corner of the room, taking a moment to give the room a sweeping glance as I followed. What I saw shocked me—everyone looked so normal! There weren't any odd creatures lurking about or people wearing pointy witch's hats and leaning over crystal balls. No tarot cards, no rune stones, no cauldrons or crystals or pentagrams. Not even one magic wand was in evidence. Without realizing I had been so tense, I felt the muscles in my shoulders relax. I don't know quite what I expected from the Goety and Theurgy club, but itwasn't normalcy. Dark, smoky dance clubs, however—oh yes, those I knew.