Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

‘‘They?’’ Jim asked, looking from me to Cyrene before turning back to the woman still hugging him. ‘‘You don’t think Cyrene and May did this to me, do you?’’

‘‘They didn’t?’’ she asked, giving me an odd look.

I didn’t pay her too much attention-that was taken up with watching the velvet-tongued healer as he worked over Cyrene.

‘‘Nope.’’

‘‘We saw them attacking István and Pál,’’ Drake said, nodding toward us. ‘‘The one kneeling bit István.’’

‘‘Hard,’’ István muttered, having taken off his shirt to wrap around the arm in question.

‘‘Really?’’ Jim’s eyebrows rose as it looked back at me. ‘‘Nice job, May! I couldn’t have done better myself.’’

‘‘Nice-Jim, are you insane?’’ Aisling asked, ruffling the fur on the top of its head.

‘‘Naw. But you guys are confused. May and Cyrene weren’t attacking anyone. May just wanted to get Cy out of the garden, but I told them about Drake being a gadget freak, so they decided to go out through Kostich’s yard. That’s where we were nailed… or rather, I was. Fires of Abaddon, his arcane traps are downright nasty! He owes me a whole bunch of fur.’’

‘‘Will she be all right?’’ I asked the man who was evidently named Gabriel.

He nodded without looking at me, his eyes on Cyrene ’s face as his fingers manipulated her neck. ‘‘She has a superficial cut to the scalp, but you were correct that her neck was broken.’’

My stomach lurched at his words. Cyrene might be immortal, but there was still such a thing as brain damage. If she didn’t get sufficient oxygen and blood to her brain, she would be left in a coma… a permanent coma.

‘‘It is a good thing she is a…’’ He glanced at me, his eyes questioning.

‘‘Naiad,’’ I answered.

‘‘Ah. That would explain much. Elemental beings do not cope well with injuries to the head. Their center is in their heart, is it not?’’

Cy certainly thought with her heart more than her head, but I wasn’t about to admit that to the stranger… A thought struck me. I looked more closely at him. Like the other men present, he was dressed in evening clothes of a black jacket and pants, but unlike the others he had a gorgeous silvery vest heavily embroidered with fantastical creatures. His skin was a warm brown, like a very dark tan, but his high cheekbones and narrowed nose pointed to mixed ancestry. The shoulder-length dark brown dreadlocks hinted at some African blood, while the narrow mustache and goatee simply drew the eye to his mouth, which seemed to hold an unholy fascination for me. But there was something else, something exotic about him that I found it hard to pinpoint… ‘‘You’re a dragon,’’ I said suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle sliding together.

‘‘I am,’’ he said, nodding acknowledgment.

‘‘Gabriel is not just a dragon,’’ the nasty man who stepped on my arm said in a deep voice heavy with an Australian accent. ‘‘He is the dragon. The silver wyvern.’’

Wyverns, I knew, were leaders of dragon septs. Great. Now we had gotten ourselves tangled up with not one wyvern, but two. And a demon lord, a demon, and a couple of homicidal bodyguards.

My expression must have shown my feelings, for Gabriel shot me a little smile, saying, ‘‘You needn’t look quite so wary. I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to, of course.’’

I blinked at him in surprise.

‘‘Did you just flirt with her?’’ Aisling asked, an interested light in her eyes as her gaze rested on me. ‘‘Would you mind… I hate to be rude… er… May, is it?’’

I nodded.

‘‘This is always so awkward, but there’s really no way around it. What exactly are you? I’ve never seen anyone who can get out of my binding wards, but you just- poof! Disappeared. Then suddenly you were a few feet away.’’

‘‘Oh, geez, Ash,’’ Jim said, covering its eyes with one paw. ‘‘I just can’t take you anywhere, can I?’’

‘‘What?’’ she asked, turning to her wyvern. ‘‘Stop looking like you all know what May is! You do, don’t you? Admit it-you all know, except me! I hate that!’’

‘‘You’ve seen her type before, Ash,’’ Jim said, pushing itself forward to look at Cyrene. I shoved it back, not wanting anything else to disturb Gabriel.

‘‘I have? Where? No, wait, let me think…’’ She sat when Drake gently moved her toward a chair, her face scrunched up as she thought. ‘‘Immortal, definitely. But not a naiad, like the woman on the chaise- she’s got a definite glimmer to her that May doesn’t have. Hmm. She’s not bound by wards, and can do that disappearing thing…’’

‘‘It’s called shadow walking,’’ I said, unable to stand any more of her scrutiny. ‘‘It is a trait common to doppelgangers.’’

‘‘Doppelganger!’’ Aisling said, her eyes wide in surprise. ‘‘Wow. I thought you guys were really rare.’’

‘‘We are,’’ I said, turning back to Cyrene.

‘‘But… shadow walking? I’ve never heard of that. What exactly… er…’’

I stifled a sigh, not really irritated with the woman so much as I was with the whole situation. I hated having to explain my origins. ‘‘Doppelgangers are created from their twin. We are identical in every way, but individual beings, and wholly separate from our twins. Because we are literally created from the twin’s shadow, we can slip into that form and move amongst people without being seen-except in brightly lit places. We cast no shadow ourselves, and have no reflection. Here endeth the lesson. Is my twin going to live or will she be in a coma?’’ I asked the question of Gabriel as he sat back on his heels, his eyes intent on Cyrene ’s face.

Cyrene ’s chest rose in a deep breath as her eyelids fluttered, a long exhalation of her breath bringing joy to my heart. Her eyes opened, puzzlement evident as she looked first at Gabriel, then at me. ‘‘Mayling?’’ she asked, her voice reedy.

I grasped her hands and squeezed her fingers, relief swamping me as I smiled down at her. ‘‘I’m here.’’

‘‘Mei Ling?’’ Drake asked, and I froze, my fingers tightening around Cyrene ’s until she made a noise of protest. ‘‘Mei Ling the cat burglar?’’

‘‘Mei Ling?’’ Gabriel said as well, his warm voice filled with speculation as he considered me with those lovely quicksilver eyes. A smile spread slowly, his dimples becoming evident as amusement filled his eyes. ‘‘How propitious.’’

I released Cyrene ’s hands, edging away from him. I wanted to bolt, to get us out of there, but Cyrene wasn’t in any condition to move yet. ‘‘How so?’’

His dimples deepened. ‘‘You’re just the woman I’ve been looking for.’’

‘‘… think you’ll be just fine here. Jim, get off the bed and let Cyrene have some rest.’’

‘‘Hey! Belly scratches happenin’ here!’’ the demon protested, its back legs kicking as Cyrene obediently scratched at the hairy stomach.

‘‘Off!’’ Aisling ordered, pointing to the door. She gave me an apologetic smile as the demon left, muttering under its breath. ‘‘You’ll have to forgive Jim. I think its nose is a bit out of joint because of all the attention focused on the baby. Is there anything else you need?’’

Cyrene, reclining against a mountain of pillows, waved a wan, pale hand. ‘‘No, thank you. I’m comfortable, but tired, very, very tired.’’ She punctuated her sentence with a gigantic yawn.

‘‘All right, then. Shout out if you need anything,’’ Aisling said, glancing across the room to where her wyvern stood leaning against the wall, silently watching us. ‘‘Drake?’’