Just as I trembled on the edge of an orgasm I knew would be unlike anything else I'd known, Drake tilted me to the side, his mouth on my collarbone as he rammed into me with enough force to knock the remaining pil-lows to the floor. My body exploded in a conflagration of heat and rapture, mindless of the burning flame that seared my flesh beneath Drake's mouth. His shout of tri-umph rang in my ears as we burned bright together, for a moment seemingly made of fire rather than flesh and blood.

I drifted for a while after mat, not quite sure whether I wanted to come down from the high he had driven me to, –but eventually I remembered how to breathe, and my brain decided to go back to work again. I opened my eyes and found that I was draped across Drake, the dampness of his chest and ragged nature of his breath a testament that he had enjoyed himself as much as I had.

I pressed a kiss to the center of his chest, then slid off him, scooping the satin of the nightgown up from where it had landed on the floor with the pillows.

Drake's eyes opened as I pulled it on.

'That was truly the most amazing thing I've ever ex-perienced," I said, leaning over to nip his bottom lip. "It goes without saying that you have fulfilled every wild fantasy I could ever imagine. Thank you, Drake."

A slight frown wrinkled his brow as he rose from the chaise, starkly masculine even in his resting state. "It will always be this way between us. You are my mate."

"I'm not sure what I am other than sated within an inch of my life. No wonder you guys are immortal—if this is how sex is normally, you'd die of extreme pleasure if you weren't. As much as I'd like to stay and see if I can't rustle up another fantasy, I have to let my brain get some sleep so it's nice and sharp tomorrow. If you recall, I do have a murder to figure out. I don't suppose you'd care to offer me any advice about how to find the person responsible for drawing the circle and killing Mme. Deauxville?"

"I have answered three questions tonight, and that is all you are allowed," Drake said, tugging me against his body. I melted against him, my curves cushioning his hard lines, his hands pulling me up against proof of his renewed vigor. The dragon fire swept through me, threatening to consume me until I returned it to him.

He pulled his mouth from mine, stepping backwards away from me, and I would have followed him and claimed another one of his mind-searingly wonderful kisses, but he slid back into the shadows, the green of his eyes glittering from the blackness for a moment before it dissolved into the night. "Look to the circle, Aisling. The answer you seek is there."

I awoke to the echo of his darkly sexy voice in my head, my heart beating madly as if I'd just run up all five flights of stairs, the taste of his burning kiss still on my lips, my body still humming with pleasure, deep, secret parts of me still quivering from the memory of his inva-sion.

"It was just a dream," I told myself, trying hard to push down the desire to call him back. "A really, really erotic dream, but still just a dream. Nothing more. Not real at all. Just a figment of your oversexed imagination."

My voice was reassuringly solid in the gray light of the dawn.

"Just a dream," I said again as I flipped my pillow over to let the cool linen dampen my dream ardor.

When I woke up two hours later, I was wearing a cream-and-lace negligee that I didn't remember buying.

Here's a little hint for those of you planning on sum-moning a demon: Don't stint on your supplies. If you don't invest in quality products, you run the risk of get-ting one of the lesser demons. Think runts of the litter.

Being in a frugal state of mind, when I arrived at Amelie's shop the following morning with the sheets of instructions on demon-summoning that Beth had faxed me, I scorned the more expensive items and settled for what I was sure would be equally viable (and much cheaper) substitutes. Amelie didn't question me at all on my purchases until I piled them on the counter.

"Chalk, purified water, salt, ash, a compass, and a cop-per wax stick. Copper? Are you sure?"

I nodded. Everyone knew those medieval guys were more than a little bit gold obsessed. As long as the stick looked goldish, the demon wouldn't know I hadn't used actual gold.

"This ash is not dead man's ash," Amelie said, turning the label to face me.

"Yeah, I know, but ash is ash."

She pursed her lips, and her glance flickered toward the bottle of water. "Holy water is more beneficial, I be-lieve."

"It's also more expensive," I said, reading over the faxed sheet. "Oh, do you have a copy of The Book of Sa-cred Magic by Abramelin the Mage? My copy is back home."

Silently she plucked a small book off a bookshelf and handed it to me.

"Thanks. That's everything, then."

She eyed me for a moment before moving to an an-tique cash register. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"You and me both," I said under my breath, then gave her a toothy grin when she looked questioningly at me.

Two hours later I chalked a circle about three feet across on the carpet in my hotel room, being careful to leave a break in the circle so it wasn't closed. I finally un-derstood what it was Drake had been asking

me when he wanted to know if the circle at Mme. Deauxville's was closed or not.

"Too bad I didn't read the instructions on how to sum-mon a demon until now," I mumbled to myself as I used the salt to retrace the circle widdershins. "Maybe I could have figured out whether or not that circle had been used. Ah well. Onward and upward. Let's see …" I gnawed on my lower lip as I read the slightly blurry fax. I'd begged Beth to copy a chapter out of one of the books I seldom looked at because it consisted solely of recipe-like in-structions on summoning various demons, something that until now was strictly an academic rather than prac-tical interest.

"Add a pinch of dead man's ash to a tablespoon of holy water, mix thoroughly, bake until done, frost if de-sired." I snickered to myself and then looked back at the sheet, tapping it as I read. 'Trace the twelve symbols of one of the demon lords with a scribe of gold, followed by the four symbols of the demon you wish lo summon-using the ash of a branch that has lain across a grave. Well, I'm going with a copper wax stick and plain old ash rather than a gold scribe and dead man's ash, but I'm sure it'll be good enough. Now, who shall I try for?"

I pulled out the book I'd purchased at Amelie's and browsed through the listings of demon lords and the demons who made up each of their legions. There were eight demon lords (also known as the princes of Hell), each of whom had their own strengths and weaknesses. Since this was my first time summoning up a demon, I felt that it was better to go with one of the lesser lords. The one who caught my eye was called Amaymon—he was supposedly known for his fiery, poisonous breath.