"I imagine it would be very difficult if he did not wish to oblige you," Amelie agreed without asking what I was talking about.

I gave her a feeble smile. "Drake is also involved in the murder of Mme. Deauxville. At least, I think he is. He won't tell me what he was doing there, or what he saw, or what he knows. He's so darned frustrating!"

Amelie laughed again and got off the stool to pad bare-foot over to a beautiful antique glass-topped rosewood box sitting next to the cash register. She unlocked it and withdrew a small green object on a gold chain. "I believe you have more need of this than I have to profit from its sale."

I stared down at the green jade dragon. It was about three inches tall, highly stylized, obviously Oriental in origin, the curved tail of the dragon forming a figure eight around the body. Touches of gold on the head and body and tip of the tail made the piece glow with a bril-liance that isn't usual in jade. "What is it?"

"It's a talisman. Its provenance is unclear, but I believe it was created by one of the dragon septs, possibly the green dragons."

"It's so pretty," I cooed, wanting like mad to touch the beautiful dragon. My fingers positively itched to feel it.

"It is. It is also something that I suspect you could use, given the present difficulties you find yourself in."

I gave in to temptation, allowing the tip of my finger to trace the sinuous curve of the dragon's body. It felt warm, not cool like jade normally feels. "It's much too valuable for me to accept, Amelie, although I greatly ap-preciate your generosity in offering it to me."

"It is not a gift I offer easily," Amelie said, pressing the jade dragon into my hand. "But it is one that I feel is right."

"But, it's valuable, and I don't have a lot of money—"

"To refuse a gift that is sincerely offered is to give great insult," Amelie said briskly.

I looked at the green dragon. It felt… vibrant. As if it had its own energy. It hummed silently in my hand. 'Thank you," I said as graciously as I could, slipping the chain over my head. The talisman hung between my breasts, a warm, oddly comforting weight.

Amelie nodded her approval. "What is it you came to consult me about?"

I looked up from running my finger around serpentine dragon's tail. "Huh? Oh. Well, I was wondering if you knew whether dragons have an Achilles' heel. So to speak. Something I could use to force Drake into telling me what he knows about Mme. Deauxville's murder."

She made a thoughtful face.

"No Achilles' heel?" I guessed.

"None that I know of. The only one who might have the power to force a wyvern to do something he does not want to do …" Her voice trailed off into nothing.

I sighed and picked up the cup of coffee again. "Don't tell me: The only one who can get the upper hand with Drake is the Venediger."

She spread her hands in a gesture of impotence. "He is the only one."

"Great. So now I'm going to have to go crawling to him on my belly to apologize up one side and down the other, as well as beg for his help—which will cost me heaven only knows what, if Ophelia and Perdita were right—all while he's so pissed at me that he's put a con-tract out on me."

"Contract?"

I waved away the question as I climbed off the stool, gathering up my bag and Jim's leash. "Doesn't matter. I think if I'm going to have to grovel, I'll do it without my furry little friend. I'd better get back to the hotel and fig-ure out how to do the release ritual."

Jim, who had licked Cecile's ears to the point that they were frothy with dog slobber, frowned at me as I waggled the leash meaningfully, but the demon managed to drag itself from the corgi.

'Time to eat?" it asked hopefully.

"No, time to go to the hotel and send you back to your fiery little home."

Jim sat and gave me an odd look. "You can't send me back. I told you that you were my master now."

I snapped the leash on its collar. "Yes, I know. I'm your master because I summoned you, but you belong to Amaymon, so it's back you go."

"Geez, what do I need to do, use semaphore? I told you I was unclaimed."

Amelie sucked in her breath, and with that sound I had the first inkling that something else was about to go very, very wrong with my life.

"You said that Amaymon kicked you out of his le-gions, but that he'd take you back in a bit," I said slowly. With much portent.

Jim made a face. "Yes, but before that could happen, you summoned me. You bound me to you. That means you're my master now."

The inkling turned into a full-fledged flood of horror. "What?"

Jim grinned; I swear it grinned at me. "It's just you and me, sweet cheeks."

"It can't do that, can it?" I asked Amelie with more than a little bit of desperation evident in my voice. "It can't refuse to go back? All I have to do is conduct the rit-ual, and it's gone, right?"

She shook her head. "All demons belong to a lord; that is the nature of their existence. If you summoned one who had been cast out, it would become your demon. Un-less you did not command it so?"

A wild hope arose within me. I looked at Jim.

"Do the words 'My name is Aisling. I'm your master' ring any bells with you?"

My heart joined my stomach as it turned to a leaden ball and promptly dropped to my feet. "Oh, god. This means … This means I'm …"

"Yes," Amelie nodded gravely. "You are now offi-cially a demon lord."

Oddly enough, I didn't collapse or burst into tears or have a hissy fit, or even throttle Jim right back to Abad-don, even though I really wanted to do all those things. Instead I drank a few more cups of coffee while Amelie looked through her extensive library for any help there might be in getting rid of an unwanted demon.

"I'm afraid that short of destroying the demon, there is nothing you can do. I do have one piece of good news, though," Amelie said.

"Hit me with it—I could use some good news," I said as I gathered up my things to leave.

"You are the only Guardian in existence who is also a wyvern's mateand a demon lord." •

"Guess I'm just lucky that way, huh?"

Her lips twisted in a smile. "Luck is one word for it, yes."