Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

‘‘I have to say,’’ I said slowly, unsure how he’d take my comment in his present unyielding mood, ‘‘that he looked to me to be surprised when you accused him of harming your guards.’’

‘‘He is a very good actor. He’s had time to perfect that skill… but it doesn’t fool me. The silver dragons are at war with no one. There is no reason anyone would want to take my guard. It has to be Kostya.’’

‘‘So what do we do now?’’ I asked.

His eyes warmed several degrees as he looked down at me. ‘‘You, little bird, are going to London with your twin as you originally planned.’’

I was both surprised and hurt at his dismissal. ‘‘Do not think I don’t want you near me,’’ he said with a flash of his dimples, his fingers soft as he brushed back a strand of my hair. ‘‘There are some green dragons who live in the north of Greece-Drake has called on them to help us search.’’

‘‘Aren’t there any silver dragons around here?’’

He shook his head. ‘‘They populate mostly Africa, and the South Pacific, although recently more have moved into the Caribbean, and the West Coast of America. Very few silver dragons live in Europe.’’

‘‘Why? Is there something here that keeps the silver dragons away?’’ I asked.

‘‘Not at all. I myself prefer the southern climes, but business concerns frequently keep me in the Northern Hemisphere. I do not wish to part with you, Mayling, but it will relieve my mind to know you are safe at home. There is enough room for your twin to stay as well-I’d be easier in my mind if you had company with you there. I expect to follow you tomorrow, at the latest. Until then’’-his head dipped down as he bit my lower lip-‘‘I will miss you greatly.’’

The scene played in my mind as I sat alone in the empty, echoing conservatory. Rain pattered down lightly on the windows as indigo claimed the sky. I touched my lips, shivering, but whether it was from the relative cold of an early spring London night, or from a suspicion that what Gabriel would miss was his mate rather than me specifically, I couldn’t say.

‘‘This isn’t doing you any good,’’ I said aloud, my voice eerily thin. I cleared my throat and tried again. ‘‘What you need is a plan of action. Let’s put that mind to work and come up with something useful.’’

Cyrene’s faint voice, chirping happily away in the bathroom upstairs, drifted down as I pulled out the blackmail letter she had given me earlier. It was brief and to the point, demanding that I render a service or else the blackmailer would hand over the videotape to the appropriate authorities.

With reluctance, I punched in the phone number the blackmailer had given.

‘‘What?’’ a gruff male voice answered.

‘‘This is Cyrene Northcott’s twin. I understand you wished to speak with me.’’

‘‘Oh, the doppelganger.’’ The man’s voice had a harsh midwestern U.S. twang to it. ‘‘About time you called. There’s a job I want you to do for me. Something I want you to steal.’’

I was no stranger to bluntness, so I ignored everything but what was important-I needed to make sure that he didn’t know I was also Mei Ling. ‘‘What makes you think I’m going to condone an illegal act?’’

The man grunted. ‘‘Saw you at that oracle’s with your hand up his ass, didn’t I? You were there for the same thing I was-the arcanum.’’

‘‘I would hardly refer to being in the oracle’s book room as having my hand up his ass, but we’ll let that go.’’

‘‘You’re a doppelganger. I looked that up-you can go invisible and get into places normal people can’t. So don’t come over all high and mighty on me.’’

I bit back any number of responses, relieved that he hadn’t mentioned anything about Mei Ling. The arcanum I was sent to get wasn’t particularly valuable- Magoth simply had a desire to see it-and it certainly wasn’t of the same quality of items that the infamous Mei Ling had previously stolen, so it was entirely within reason that this person didn’t connect a shadow-walking doppelganger named May with a Chinese cat burglar. ‘‘What is it you want acquired?’’

‘‘Not going to deny it, eh?’’ The man chuckled, his laugh just as unpleasant as his voice. ‘‘Smart girl. There’s a piece here in London, a small golden amulet. It’s well protected, so you’ll need to use your wits to get it. You got a pencil? Here’s the address.’’

I took down the information, wondering what the amulet was, and how I was going to get out of stealing it. For now, I’d let the blackmailer think he had me by the short and curlies, but I would not commit myself to stealing something about which I knew nothing. Perhaps if I knew a little more about who he was working for, I’d be able to assess what it was he wanted stolen. ‘‘All right, I have that. My twin said you were working for a dreadlord. Which one?’’

‘‘Who I work for is none of your business,’’ he said sharply, on a quick intake of breath.

‘‘Well then, who owns this amulet you want stolen?’’

The silence that followed was rife with suspicion.

‘‘Look, I don’t know what you think doppelgangers can do, but we can’t turn invisible, and we can’t walk through walls. We’re flesh and blood just like anyone else… more or less… and we can trigger alarms and set off security systems. The more I know about the person who has this amulet, the better I can protect myself and ensure success.’’

‘‘Just steal the damned thing. You don’t need to shove your nose into anything else. Get in, get it, and get out. Call me when you’ve got it.’’

‘‘I’m not a miracle worker-’’ I started to protest.

‘‘If you’re caught, he’ll kill you,’’ the man interrupted. ‘‘So don’t get caught.’’

‘‘But who-’’

He hung up before I could finish asking him who it was he intended for me to rob. I sighed and slumped back into the chair, staring blindly at the piece of paper I held. I had a bad feeling about this whole thing, but I wasn’t in much of a position to do anything. I’d just have to go to the target’s house and assess the situation there.

It wasn’t until I was in my room, donning my working outfit, that I realized something odd about the address he’d given me.

‘‘I’ll be damned,’’ I said a few minutes later as I looked at the card Aisling had given me. One side of it had her address in London, and on the back, she’d written the location of Kostya’s lair.

It was the same address the blackmailer had given me.

An hour and a half later I slipped out of the back door of Gabriel’s house, casting an eye upward to the window of the room Cyrene had claimed. A faint light flickered through a gap in the curtains, indicating Cyrene was happily tucked into bed, yakking on the phone to one or another local naiad while she watched late-night TV. I hadn’t told her my plans lest she wish to accompany me… and where I was going, she definitely couldn’t follow.

Why was the blackmailer trying to steal something from a dragon? No wonder he didn’t want to tell me whom I was supposed to steal from-no one in their right mind would ever try to get something out of a dragon’s lair.

‘‘More intriguingly, who is he working for?’’ I murmured aloud to myself. ‘‘And does this have anything to do with that phylactery Gabriel wants?’’

‘‘What’s that?’’

I came to myself with a start as the taxi driver pulled up outside a dark and rather grimy warehouse. ‘‘Sorry, just talking to myself. Is this it?’’

‘‘It is. That’ll be five pounds.’’

I paid the man, hesitating for a moment as I glanced at the warehouse. I wasn’t normally a fearful person, but I had to admit there was something about the hulking black building that left me feeling a bit twitchy. ‘‘I don’t suppose you’d like to wait for me?’’