‘‘It’s still pretty early,’’ I told Gabriel as he paid off the taxi and marched up to the double doors. ‘‘Do you think they’re up yet? We had kind of a late night.’’
‘‘They’re up,’’ he answered in a voice that was rough with grit.
‘‘How do you know?’’ I asked.
He pointed toward the garage, off to the side of the house. The nose of a sleek black car was just barely visible. ‘‘That isn’t the car Drake is using.’’
Cyrene and I stood a few feet back as Gabriel pounded on the door.
‘‘These dragons are awfully intense, don’t you think?’’ Cyrene said, watching him with a concerned eye.
‘‘I think there’s a lot going on that we’re not aware of,’’ I answered, wondering if that car belonged to Drake’s brother. ‘‘But on the whole, yes, they are intense. Which isn’t necessarily-’’
The doors were opened by Istvan, who didn’t look the least bit surprised to see us on the doorstep. He didn’t look happy, either, although he said nothing, just bowed and stepped back to allow us to enter.
Cyrene touched her neck as she sent him a little frown, but managed on the whole to sail through the doorway with her usual grace and elegance.
I slammed up against a ward and felt my body distort in what I was sure was a gruesome manner as I attempted to force my way through it.
‘‘I’m sorry,’’ I said finally, backing away. ‘‘I can’t get through it.’’
‘‘It is for dark beings,’’ Istvan said, giving me a suspicious look.
‘‘Aisling will simply have to remove it again,’’ Gabriel said, going in ahead of me. ‘‘Is she here?’’
‘‘On the patio.’’
‘‘Aisling? Could you unbind the ward so May can enter?’’ Gabriel called out in a loud voice.
The person who appeared from the patio wasn’t Aisling. It was a man, dark haired and dark eyed, slightly taller than Gabriel, but leaner, with much less body mass. That fact didn’t seem to matter, though-he took a flying leap at Gabriel, slamming them both against the nearest wall.
Chapter Twelve
‘‘What-’’ Cyrene started to ask, looking confused as the two men hit the floor, fighting for all they were worth.
I didn’t wait around to see what happened-I shadowed, raced around the side of the house, and leaped over the fence, running around to the patio with a burst of speed I doubt I’ll ever be able to match.
Drake was assisting Aisling to her feet, Jim in front of them heading for the house. I ran past the two of them, hurdling the third as I headed for the hallway where I could hear Gabriel yelling.
‘‘What on earth-what was that? Drake, did you just see someone-’’ Aisling was saying as my feet hit the slick stone tile of the entryway. I threw myself onto the back of the man who was trying to strangle Gabriel. Istvan had him by one arm, Pal by the other, but they weren’t having much luck in stopping him.
I grabbed his hair with both hands, and using my knees as leverage on his back, flung myself backward, dragging him with me.
The man screamed as I rolled out of the way, throwing myself across him and slamming his head down onto the stone floor.
‘‘What is going on-good lord! Is that May on Kostya? It’s so hard to see her, she’s almost translucent. Gabriel, are you all right?’’ Aisling’s voice asked.
‘‘Stop!’’ Drake bellowed, but I ignored him, continuing to slam Kostya’s head onto the tiles. ‘‘Gabriel! Control your mate!’’
‘‘Mayling, you must stop. Kostya’s head is too thick to harm; you’ll only break the stone floor.’’
I glared down at the man, noting with satisfaction that one of his eyes was swelling shut. Gabriel must have connected with his fist before I’d made it around the back of the house. ‘‘All right, but only because if he got seriously hurt, you’d have to heal him.’’
‘‘Your consideration boggles the mind,’’ Drake said dryly as Gabriel, weaving slightly, took my hand and pulled me up next to him.
I looked him over carefully. There was a faint trickle of blood from his upper lip, and some nasty bruising on his throat, but the latter were fading before my eyes. ‘‘Are you OK?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ he said, clearing his throat at the roughness that resulted from the throttling. ‘‘I’m fine, although I would appreciate it if Kostya would tell me in advance when he declares a kill-on-sight status upon me.’’
The man I’d correctly surmised was Kostya got to his feet, assisted, I was secretly pleased to note, by no one. He listed a bit to one side, and his face had a battered appearance, but already his black eye was beginning to recede. He spat something out in a language that sounded Slavic.
Drake sighed and took Aisling’s arm. ‘‘Your assault on him
‘‘The phylactery?’’ Gabriel looked startled for a moment, then frowned. ‘‘What game is this, Kostya?’’
‘‘Come out onto the patio and we’ll explain it,’’ Aisling said, sounding and looking a bit weary. I thought Drake was going to carry her out there, but she gave him a warning look and made her own way out to the comfortable rattan couch that overlooked the garden and beach.
I wondered what it would be like to be so cherished. Despite my relationship to Cyrene, I’d always been alone most of my life-she had her sisterhood of naiads, and I had Magoth.
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ Gabriel asked, his voice warm against my ear as I took a seat. He stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder in a little display of possession that I found oddly appealing. ‘‘You look as if you’d just bitten a dung beetle.’’
‘‘I was thinking about Magoth,’’ I answered quietly.
‘‘Do not worry about him, little bird. All will be well there, you’ll see.’’
I didn’t correct his mistaken impression that I was worried about the likelihood of Magoth convincing me to destroy Gabriel-now that I’d felt the strength of the bond that connected me to Gabriel, I had little fear that Magoth’s seductions would fall upon anything but fallow ground. But I did wonder what it would be like to live with Gabriel, to bear his child, to have him treat me as if I was the most precious thing on the planet. And there was something else about Drake and Aisling, an awareness that I found both curious and intriguing. They didn’t touch each other often, didn’t even appear to be looking at each other much, but if Aisling shifted slightly to get more comfortable, Drake was instantly there, adjusting a pillow or sliding a glass a little closer to her.
I wondered if the obvious sympathetic bond they shared was something unique to them, or whether a version of it would come as I spent time with Gabriel.
His fingers brushed the back of my neck lightly as if in unspoken answer.
‘‘Kostya insists that you have the phylactery,’’ Drake said without preamble.
His brother, who was pacing along the far edge of the patio, whirled around and glared at Gabriel. ‘‘There is no one else who would steal it! He must have it. I demand it be returned to me.’’
Gabriel’s fingers tightened on my shoulder. ‘‘Disregarding the fact that I do not, in fact, have the phylactery, your claim to it is asinine. Drake found it in Fiat’s lair-if anyone has a claim on it, it would seem Drake does… or at worst, Fiat. But not you, Konstantin Nikolai Fekete.’’
The black dragon did not like hearing Gabriel use his full name, and I didn’t blame him. Everyone knew that names have power, and I certainly wouldn’t want a wyvern I was more or less warring against invoking mine.
Kostya snarled and would have lunged toward Gabriel, but Istvan and Pal had taken up positions on either side of him, grabbing him when he started toward us.
I leaped to my feet, ready to shadow and go after him if Drake’s men couldn’t control him.
‘‘I begin to think you are more like a falcon than like a blackbird, Mayling,’’ Gabriel murmured gently, pushing me back into the chair. ‘‘Do not trouble yourself over Kostya.’’
‘‘Mei Ling?’’ Kostya asked, the anger in his face giving way to surprise. ‘‘Mei Ling the thief?’’
‘‘She is not a thief, not a real one,’’ Gabriel said with a flash of his silver eyes. ‘‘She simply acquires objects for her employer, nothing more.’’
‘‘And yet you claim you did not steal my phylactery?’’ Kostya turned to his brother with an angry gesture. ‘‘What
