Playing with Fire

Chapter Eighteen

The urgency of Gabriel’s needs-and my immediate and overwhelming response to them-had driven from my mind the discussion I’d had with Magoth.

‘‘The phylactery!’’ I yelled suddenly, pushing myself off Gabriel’s warm, limp form.

‘‘What about it?’’ he asked sleepily, his face relaxed and bearing a sated expression that gave me no little amount of feminine pride.

‘‘I know where it is.’’

‘‘What?’’ He sat up so fast I slid off him and onto the floor. ‘‘Mayling!’’

‘‘It’s all right, I’m fine,’’ I said, laughing. ‘‘I should have known better than to startle a dragon.’’

He knelt beside me, his eyes grave. ‘‘Where is the phylactery?’’

‘‘Paris. In the L’au-delà vault.’’

His eyes widened at the same time his pupils narrowed. ‘‘The amulet you stole from Kostya?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Why did you not tell me this when we were there?’’

‘‘I didn’t know that’s what it was,’’ I answered, getting to my feet. The memory of Magoth chilled my flesh, causing little goose bumps to rise along my arms. I pulled out some clothing from the bag István had brought, holding it to me as I faced Gabriel. He wouldn’t harm me-I knew that. But I still dreaded telling him what had happened between the demon lord and myself. ‘‘Gabriel, I… Magoth knows.’’

‘‘He knows what?’’

‘‘He knows about the phylactery.’’ I lifted my chin to look him dead in the eye. ‘‘I had no idea that the amulet was the phylactery. It was in the unlocked chest, after all. What sane person would keep something so valuable in a place like that? And I swear to you that Porter never gave a hint as to what it really was. I wonder now if he knew.’’

Gabriel looked confused for a moment. He gently pushed me into the chair and knelt at my feet, his hands on my knees. ‘‘Explain it again. Slowly. And do not leave anything out.’’

I went over again my phone call with Porter, the visit to Kostya’s lair, the conversation with Porter in Paris, and the pertinent parts of my conversation with Magoth. I was sick with the knowledge that my ignorance had set Magoth onto the trail of the phylactery, but Gabriel brushed aside my pathetic apology.

‘‘The blackmailer poses no problem. We can deal with him so that he will offer no threat to Cyrene or you.’’ He rose and began pacing the room. ‘‘As for the demon lord… I would have preferred to keep knowledge of the phylactery’s whereabouts confined only to us, but as we cannot undo what has been done, we will simply have to make the best of the situation. Our first and foremost priority must be to get the phylactery before Magoth can order you to retrieve it for him.’’ He paused to give me a long look. ‘‘Or has he already done that?’’

Bile rose, burning the back of my throat. I wanted to admit the truth to Gabriel, to cling to him and sob out my sorrows, avoiding all the unpleasantness that was woven into my life, but I couldn’t do that to him, not while there was the slightest shred of hope that I could avoid Magoth’s command.

I touched my throat where Magoth had almost succeeded in throttling me. ‘‘He attacked me when he realized what the phylactery was. I was on the verge of passing out-’’

Gabriel, distracted as I had hoped he would be, was instantly at my side, probing my neck with gentle fingers. ‘‘You were bruised here. Your flesh still remembers the trauma. I will ease its memory.’’

His lips caressed my neck, building the banked fire within me until I moaned at the sensation of his skin against mine.

I tossed aside the clothing I was still holding, falling into his arms, kissing a line along his jaw.

‘‘I cannot seem to get enough of you, little bird,’’ he murmured as his tongue swept broad strokes across my neck. I’d never been licked before by a man, but the sensation wasn’t even remotely repugnant. Gabriel positively hummed with pleasure as I slid my hands down his silky skin, tracing out the hills and valleys that made up the planes of his back. ‘‘You are so good, Mayling. You taste so good.’’

I let my forehead drop to his shoulder, guilt spiking through my desire until the latter all but evaporated. ‘‘I’m not good. I’m not good at all, Gabriel. Even assuming we have nothing to worry about with Porter and whomever he’s working for, Magoth will move mountains to get that phylactery.’’

‘‘Then we shall simply have to get to it before he does,’’ he answered, lifting my chin until my lips brushed his. ‘‘We must get you into the vault before Magoth can summon you and give you a direct order. We will have to share this news with Drake and Aisling-I do not wish to involve them, but without Maata and Tipene to help us, we are in a weak position.’’

I said nothing, just snuggled into him, savoring the scent and feel of him pressed so closely against me, thinking with irony of the many times I’d comforted Cyrene when one of her romantic relationships had failed. I’d always been somewhat skeptical about heartache, but now I knew the full extent of how a person could feel they were dying inside. Worse, I had no one but myself to blame for my present circumstance-I knew it was folly to become involved with Gabriel so long as I was bound to Magoth. I knew it, and yet I’d ignored the reality of the situation. And now the true price was uncovered as I acknowledged that over the span of just a few days, my emotions had deepened significantly.

I was falling in love. It was an odd sensation, a sort of prickly excitement that alternated with the absolute depths of despair. I’d never felt love before-other than affection for Cyrene-but even that was tinged with a sense of duty because I owed my very existence to her. But Gabriel was different… which would make it all that much more agonizing if I did not find a way out of obeying Magoth’s order.

‘‘It is almost morning,’’ Gabriel said, glancing at the clock. He scooped me up and stood, carrying me to the bed. ‘‘Magoth cannot assault the L’au-delà vaults himself, can he?’’

I shook my head. ‘‘He doesn’t have the means to leave Abaddon. Even if he did, the Otherworld officials sealed their offices and vaults from the demon lords long ago. Magoth can’t get to them himself- he’ll need an agent to do that.’’ I almost choked on the last few words, but managed to keep my voice steady.

‘‘As I thought. Then we shall rest. You need sleep, and I must think. We will consult with Drake and Aisling in a few hours.’’

He lay on his side, pulling me up tight against him, tucking my leg between his as he rested his chin on the top of my head.

I allowed myself to relax into him, seduced by the warmth of his body and the comfort he brought me just by holding me. He was becoming infinitely dear to me, more precious even than my own life. I must find a way out of the situation I was in-Aisling was a demon lord. Rumor said she was once a prince of Abaddon, but had been removed. She would know of a way to get around Magoth’s command. She would help me… she had to. The alternative was not to be thought of.

I awoke confused, the echoes of an alarm followed by a man’s voice piercing my uneasy slumber.

The door was just closing as I sat up and shook the hair from my face. ‘‘Gabriel?’’

Our room was empty, but judging by the shouts filtering up from the floor below, I gathered others were up and about.

A woman’s scream drifted up. I leaped out of bed, jerked on a pair of pants and a shirt, and went racing barefoot down the hall to the stairs.

Cyrene stood midway down the stairs, holding a blanket around her much as I had a few hours before. Behind her, with his back to me, Kostya stood, clutching her tightly to him. I suspected that from the way everyone else present stood as still as statues on the floor below, he held some sort of a weapon on Cy.

‘‘I’m in deadly earnest, Gabriel. Your mate may be immortal, but even she won’t be able to long survive a neck slit from ear to ear.’’

I shadowed, not waiting to find out why Kostya believed Cyrene was me, creeping down the stairs until I was within a hairsbreadth of him. It was morning, but a dull, overcast morning, and the chandelier that hung from the ceiling above the stairs hadn’t been turned on. No one saw me until I was just behind Kostya.

‘‘Mayling, no!’’ Gabriel yelled, leaping toward me.

Kostya realized his mistake too late, half spinning around toward me as Cyrene lunged forward, tripped over her blanket, and hurtled down the stairs to the floor below.

I threw myself on Kostya, my thumbs digging into the pulse points on his neck. Cyrene screamed as Gabriel caught her. I didn’t get to see more than him setting her abruptly aside before Kostya swore and swung around, slamming me into the wall and knocking the breath out of me.

Gabriel’s roar of fury rattled the windows. I’m just about completely certain that if he had made it to Kostya, he would have ripped the latter’s head off, but fortunately for us all, Drake’s two bodyguards grabbed Gabriel before he could enact his rage.

Drake himself jerked me from Kostya’s grip, pinning his brother to the wall, ably assisted by a snarling Jim.

‘‘This will cease now!’’ Drake bellowed, sharing his glare between his brother and Gabriel.

‘‘Do not interfere in matters concerning my mate,’’ Gabriel growled, his normally lovely voice pitched low with warning as he struggled with the two green dragons.

‘‘I would not dream of doing anything of the kind, but this attack was not prompted by May. Kostya, if you do not behave in a civilized manner, I will allow Aisling to perform as many wards upon you as she can think of, and she has become quite inventive the last few months.’’

Kostya spat out what I assumed were some nasty oaths, but ceased fighting his brother’s hold. I shook the stars from my eyes and ran down the steps to Gabriel, wrapping my arms around him both for comfort and to keep him from attacking Kostya.

‘‘If I said this was getting old, would anyone pay attention to me?’’ Aisling asked as most of the occupants in the room-the dragon occupants-stood seething and glaring at one another.

‘‘No,’’ Gabriel answered at the same time Drake did.

‘‘Well,’’ she said with an injured sniff, ‘‘it is. I’m certainly getting tired of the dragon brand of testosterone, and I imagine May and Cyrene are as well.’’

Gabriel’s muscles relaxed slightly, enough that he slid his arms around me. ‘‘Your brother-in-law seems to make a habit of assaulting my mate, Aisling. I will not tolerate that.’’

‘‘You began this when you stole my phylactery!’’ Kostya yelled, shoving his brother aside. ‘‘The black dragons will regain that-’’

‘‘Oh, no,’’ Jim moaned, shaking its head. ‘‘He’s gone off on his Braveheart speech again.’’

‘‘-which we once held but was taken from us.’’ Both green dragons instantly leaped in front of him as Gabriel tried to move me out of the way.

‘‘Aisling’s right,’’ I said, digging in my heels to keep him standing still. ‘‘This is getting old.’’

‘‘We will face death to restore to the sept the pride, the glory, the true essence, of what it once was!’’ Kostya yelled.

I gave him a look so sharp it should have drilled a hole in his head. ‘‘Are you through now? Good. I think we need to have a talk, Gabriel. All of us. Without anyone assaulting anyone.’’

‘‘Amen,’’ Aisling said. ‘‘Jim, escort Kostya to the living room. If he makes any sort of move toward Gabriel or May, take him down.’’

‘‘You got that, bad boy?’’ Jim said, nudging the back of Kostya’s leg. ‘‘I’m going straight for the noogies, too. Just so you know.’’

The look Kostya shot the demon was almost comical in its indignation, but I didn’t feel much like laughing. It took a few minutes more of cajoling, reasoning, and outright threats from Aisling before the entire party was settled in a pleasant living room.

‘‘May is absolutely right. We need to have a talk, but since Drake has been nagging me to learn to delegate-’’

‘‘I do not nag,’’ Drake interrupted, a thin trickle of smoke emerging from his nostril as he shot his wife a quelling look. ‘‘I am a dragon. We do not nag. We suggest.’’

‘‘As Drake has been suggesting quite heavily, in a repeated fashion that would be nagging in anyone else, that I share tasks with others, I am more than happy for May to take the lead here.’’

‘‘Me?’’ I asked, startled into sitting up straight. I’d been snuggled up against Gabriel, the two of us and Cyrene sharing a couch across from Aisling, who was curled up next to Drake. The two bodyguards leaned against the wall behind them, their faces wary as they alternated between watching Gabriel and Kostya.

The black dragon paced back and forth in front of the windows, reminding me of a caged panther I’d seen in a tired traveling circus many decades before.

‘‘Why me?’’ I asked.

‘‘Well… it really is your show. Gabriel’s and yours, that is, but since Gabriel looks like he could happily murder Kostya, you’re clearly the one to take the lead. Don’t worry, we’ll ride shotgun.’’

‘‘Yeah. Shotgun,’’ Jim said, narrowing its eyes at Kostya.

‘‘All right,’’ I said after a moment’s thought. ‘‘I think the first question that needs to be answered is, where are Maata and Tipene?’’

Kostya made a show of sighing. ‘‘I told you I do not know where they are. I have not taken them.’’

‘‘We only have your word that you didn’t,’’ I pointed out.

‘‘You have no proof otherwise,’’ he snapped back.

I thought about that a moment, then admitted, ‘‘He has a point.’’

‘‘He lies,’’ Gabriel said.

‘‘Unless we find some proof to the contrary, I don’t see that standing here arguing about it is going to get us any closer to finding your guards,’’ I said.

‘‘He must have taken them. No one else would,’’ Gabriel insisted.

‘‘I did nothing!’’ Kostya bellowed.

‘‘I think we will come back to that point,’’ I said after the echoes died down. ‘‘The next question is whether the man named Porter is in your employ.’’ I had a hard time figuring out why Kostya would hire me to steal something he already held, but I figured we needed to exclude as many possibilities as we could.

‘‘Who?’’ Kostya asked.

I looked at Gabriel. ‘‘Truth or lie, do you think?’’

Kostya made a wordless noise of displeasure that I would call his statement into question.

‘‘Truth, I’m afraid,’’ Gabriel said with reluctance.

‘‘I second that,’’ Aisling said. ‘‘I’m pretty good at telling when people are lying, and Kostya isn’t. Not that he usually does,’’ she added quickly at a sharp look from her brother-in-law.

‘‘I agree with the consensus,’’ I said. ‘‘The next question concerns the phylactery.’’

‘‘Why you deny taking it when I caught you in my lair, you mean?’’ Kostya growled.

‘‘No, that’s not the question,’’ I answered.

‘‘Why Kostya insists you took it when he still has it?’’ Aisling asked.

I shook my head. ‘‘No, although that’s part of it.’’

Kostya snorted and continued pacing.

‘‘Where the phylactery is right now?’’ Drake asked slowly.

‘‘That’s not an issue right now, either,’’ I said, sliding a glance to Gabriel.

He watched Kostya pace with half-closed eyes, deceptive in their appearance. Beside me, his body was tight with tension, as if he was going to spring at any moment. I put my hand on his leg and squeezed it gently to remind him of his party manners.

‘‘Is the question why Kostya couldn’t tell the difference between May and me when I clearly wear my hair differently?’’ Cyrene asked with a righteous jerk of her blanket.

Everyone pretty much ignored that.

‘‘No,’’ I said. ‘‘The answer I want is why Kostya kept the phylactery in an unlocked chest.’’

That stopped him dead in his tracks. He spun around to look at me, surprise clearly evident in his dark eyes. ‘‘What? What unlocked chest?’’

‘‘There were three chests in your lair.’’

It was his turn for a little bit of smoke to escape him. I leaned into Gabriel and asked softly, ‘‘Can you do that too?’’

His eyes never left Kostya, but his lips parted slightly. A tiny curl of smoke emerged. For some reason, it delighted me, but that delight was short-lived.

‘‘You admit you were in there!’’ Kostya said, storming toward me. ‘‘You admit you stole my phylactery!’’

Instantly Gabriel was on his feet in front of me, István and Pál moving in. I stopped Gabriel as Kostya backed off, snarling.

‘‘Yes, I did take it,’’ I said with a little glance at Gabriel. ‘‘But I didn’t know what it was at the time.’’

‘‘I think perhaps you’d better explain again what happened while you were in the lair,’’ Drake said slowly.

‘‘It’s nothing beyond what I told you before. But those alarms were disabled, and someone had to do it. I can’t see Porter doing that without just taking the phylactery for himself.’’

Kostya shot me a fierce look. ‘‘That’s ridiculous! That alarm is always set! You lie.’’

‘‘Mayling never lies! Well, almost never,’’ Cyrene said with a cutting look.

‘‘Thanks for the support,’’ I murmured, my lips twitching wryly before I continued. ‘‘I found it hard to believe that you’d leave the window unprotected that way. But when I looked at the alarm, it had been disabled.’’

‘‘You disabled it!’’ Kostya accused.

I shook my head. ‘‘I didn’t. I couldn’t-it’s inside the window.’’

That stopped him for a moment.

‘‘But there’s more than the window alarm that doesn’t make sense. Why did you leave the phylactery in an unlocked chest?’’

‘‘I don’t have an unlocked chest. You broke the wards binding it, and unlocked it three nights ago, when you stole the phylactery.’’

‘‘Three nights ago I was in Greece,’’ I said thoughtfully.

‘‘You stole the phylactery then!’’ he insisted. ‘‘Then you returned to steal more of my treasures. I found the chest you’d broken into days earlier nearly empty after you leaped out of the window,’’ he snapped, making short, jerky little motions with his hands as he paced back and forth in front of the window. ‘‘You stole many things from me that night, but it’s the phylactery that matters the most. I want it returned!’’

‘‘If May is speaking the truth-and I do not doubt for a moment she is-then I begin to see the point of her question,’’ Drake said. ‘‘Kostya claims the phylactery was stolen three days ago. You are certain of that, brother?’’

Kostya snapped a ‘‘yes’’ at Drake.

Aisling breathed a little ‘‘ahhh’’ of enlightenment. ‘‘So, if the phylactery was stolen when we were all in Greece, then someone else must have taken it.’’

‘‘And if May didn’t disengage the alarm and unlock the chest, and likewise Kostya didn’t…’’ Cyrene said, frowning in puzzlement.

‘‘Then who did?’’ I asked, looking around the room. ‘‘And is the person who burgled Kostya the night I paid his lair a visit the same one who took the phylactery? Was it Porter? If it was him, why did he blackmail me? How did the phylactery get back into an unlocked chest? Why was it returned? And most importantly, is the person who did all that also responsible for the disappearance of Gabriel’s guards?’’

‘‘I don’t believe these lies,’’ Kostya said, shooting me an evil look. ‘‘She is the thief Mei Ling. She admits to taking my phylactery. She has concocted this smoke-screen to hide her actions.’’

‘‘If May had given me the phylactery, do you think I’d be sitting here now tolerating your abuse of her?’’ Gabriel asked, his muscles tensing up again.

Kostya was about to answer, but stopped, clearly baffled.

‘‘Despite my better judgment, I am willing to concede that I was wrong about Kostya,’’ Gabriel continued. ‘‘At least so far as him having the phylactery was concerned, although I reserve judgment about Maata and Tipene. It would seem that there is another player to this drama, one who has not yet unveiled himself. Someone who first removed the phylactery from Kostya’s lair, then returned it for some unknown reason. Someone who has employed the thief taker Porter, although whether he ordered Porter to retrieve the phylactery is not known. It could be Porter was acting on his own. Whoever is behind it, he had no difficulty in disabling either Kostya’s alarms or the protections he bound into the chest containing the phylactery. In other words, someone who appears to be manipulating us all without our knowing it.’’

‘‘Who?’’ Cyrene asked.

The dragons all exchanged glances.

‘‘No,’’ Drake said, shaking his head. ‘‘What you suggest is impossible.’’

‘‘Who?’’ Aisling asked, pinching the back of Drake’s hand. He covered her hand with his, still shaking his head at Gabriel.

‘‘It is not impossible. You found signs in Fiat’s house,’’ Gabriel said.

‘‘Signs of whom?’’ I asked Gabriel.

‘‘He’s dead,’’ Drake said, still shaking his head. ‘‘We all know he’s dead… Kostya most of all.’’

Kostya looked frozen, his face a mask. The two bodyguards had a similar frozen look. Who was it who could make two wyverns and a couple of dragons react in such a manner?

‘‘Who?’’ Cyrene and I said at the same time.

The dragons were silent.

‘‘I’ll say it if no one else will,’’ Jim announced, standing up and shaking itself. ‘‘The person in question is a wyvern, reportedly killed a couple hundred years ago by his right-hand man and heir to the wyvern throne, and is, in fact, the same wyvern who stole a silver dragon’s mate and made her his own. He is also the one responsible for the deaths of thousands of dragons, and not incidentally the one who cursed the silver sept. Yes, it’s the big kahuna, the whole enchilada, the dread wyvern himself-Baltic.’’