Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

‘‘What…? Who…?’’ My brain was still sluggishly processing his words when he unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me out of the car, his hands hard around my wrists.

‘‘Sorry, didn’t I introduce myself properly earlier?’’ he asked with a little chuckle. He kept ahold of my wrists with one hand, the other going to his chest as he bowed in the elegant manner that only the people of the Otherworld seemed to be able to master. ‘‘Savian Bartholomew, L’au-delà thief taker, at your service. And you, fair thief, are my prisoner.’’

The members of the Otherworld, in general, get along well with the mortal world. We all have to live in it, after all, so it makes sense we’ve learned to adapt to mortal foibles and whims, but the people of the Otherworld who bear an official capacity tend to take the time and effort to make sure that the mortal world sees them in an appropriate light.

‘‘I don’t suppose it would do me the least bit of good to yell?’’ I asked as Savian the thief taker flashed an official-looking card at an airport official.

‘‘None whatsoever. I have the diplomatic authority to take prisoners in and out of this and seventeen other countries, so I’m afraid that any protests you make would fall upon deaf ears. Ah. I see we are to have the first three rows to ourselves. Excellent. Do you need to use the loo?’’ he asked politely, stopping before a bank of tiny airplane bathrooms.

I shook my head, clutching my now-sodden blanket around myself, my spirits as damp as the rest of me.

‘‘All right, then. If you’d sit there, please.’’

I glanced around the section of the plane that he’d evidently managed to keep clear, but there was no hope for it. The lights were too bright-I’d never be able to get away by shadow walking. I plopped down in the seat he indicated, furiously trying to think of a way out of this horrible dilemma. ‘‘No handcuffs?’’ I asked acidly as he reached for my seat belt. I slapped his hands and buckled it together myself, glaring at him as he chuckled again.

He took his seat, drawing a binding ward on me. ‘‘I don’t need them, Mei Ling. It took me some time to come up with a ward that would hold a doppelganger, but as you can see, it’s quite effective.’’

Horror crept up my spine as I realized he was right-I couldn’t move from the seat. I slumped back defeated, wondering what the L’au-delà committee was going to do when Savian the sexy thief taker handed me over.

‘‘At least I know now why you are so familiar,’’ I grumbled to myself as the plane took off.

He looked curious. ‘‘Did you catch me tailing you this evening?’’

‘‘No, I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know there was anyone watching me,’’ I said with much regret. ‘‘I heard you at Dr. Kostich’s house last night.’’

‘‘Ahh,’’ he said, enlightenment dawning in his eyes. ‘‘You were there? I wondered at the time what the dragon was doing there, and why he was so interested in you. I thought perhaps he was trying to smuggle the quintessence back into the case. But obviously you did that.’’

‘‘Yes.’’ My poor abused head throbbed, but I sternly ordered it to sort through the facts and come up with a plan of action. ‘‘What I’d really like to know is how you found me to begin with. If you didn’t see me at Dr. Kostich’s, how did you know where to find me?’’

‘‘Well, you see, it’s like this,’’ he said, getting comfortable after signaling the flight attendant. He waited until she served him a glass of wine before continuing. ‘‘Kostich hired me to find you and his quintessence. I thought it was a bit odd that the silver wyvern should be interested in apparently the same thing, so I followed him. He went to earth in a hotel, and didn’t appear until this morning.’’

A sudden flash of memory had me sitting up straight. ‘‘You were the man outside the hotel. The one who stared so rudely at Cyrene and me.’’

‘‘If I was staring, it was in astonishment, and meant no offense,’’ he said with a warm smile. ‘‘Picture the scene: a dashing, roguish hero-that’s yours truly- has been hunkered down all night, waiting for his prey to emerge from what was evidently quite the love nest.’’

I refused to blush. I kept my face unmoving, my expression placid.

He just grinned. ‘‘And then all of a sudden, whoosh! The hotel starts to burn, people pour out, including a dragon and his luscious bit o’ fun.’’

‘‘If you think that’s going to get a rise out of me, you’re going to be very disappointed,’’ I said tonelessly.

His grin deepened. ‘‘I had a feeling you’d be good at this.’’

‘‘That explains how you found me, but not how you know about my connection with the thefts,’’ I said, lowering my voice.

‘‘That’s where the story gets good,’’ he assured me. ‘‘There I was, faced with not only the man I’ve been following, but also a lovely woman. Imagine my surprise when the lovely woman is joined by an identical twin. Imagine that surprise turning to complete and utter astonishment when, as I was strolling past in an attempt to identify the ladies, I heard the name of one of the most sought-after criminals in the history of the Otherworld.’’

I cast my mind back to the morning, groaning to myself. ‘‘Cyrene called me Mayling.’’

‘‘Right out in the open, where anyone could hear,’’ he said with cheerful agreement. ‘‘Once I got over the shock of hearing her say the name of Mei Ling, I did a little bit of investigating, and found out that the woman with the loose lips was twin to one May Northcott. Two and two and two… well, they make six, May.’’

I shook my head, disgusted with myself for being so distracted by Gabriel that I hadn’t been aware of Savian. ‘‘And you simply followed us to London, and then later on, tracked me down at the warehouse. I can’t believe I didn’t see you.’’

‘‘I’m very good at following people,’’ he said with no pretense of modesty. ‘‘It’s my specialty, if the truth be known.’’

I digested all of that on the flight to Paris, ignoring his further attempts at conversation, preferring to dwell in the horrible inky pit of despair that wrapped me firmly in its embrace.

‘‘Don’t think that there’s any chance you’re going to get away from me,’’ Savian said as we deplaned at Orly Airport.

He waited until everyone else had left the plane but the flight attendants, all of whom watched me with interested eyes. I had no idea what story he’d concocted to tell them; to be honest, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away to somewhere dark, somewhere I could make my escape.

‘‘Do you know, I’m almost sorry I caught you,’’ he continued in a conversational voice as we walked up the long ramp to the concourse. ‘‘It’s been rather exciting trying to keep up with you. Are you really mated to the silver wyvern?’’

I stopped to give him an astonished look.

‘‘Word gets around fast,’’ he explained, giving me a little push to get me going again.

‘‘You are a very strange man,’’ I told him, thrown off guard by his entire demeanor. I expected the thief takers to be harsh, ugly little men with no souls and less humanity. But Savian was… well, charming. And handsome. And judging by the glint in his eye, probably also quite the ladies’ man.

‘‘I’ve been told that. I consider it a compliment, actually. Wouldn’t want life to become boring and staid, now, would we?’’ he asked, gesturing me toward a room marked with a private notice. I entered the small room, most likely used for interviews of suspicious people by customs officials, and tipped my head as I watched Savian gesture to someone at a desk. He came into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘‘Won’t be but a minute, and we’ll be through customs. I expect you’re anxious to be through all this, hmm?’’