Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

‘‘If you do not bring the phylactery to me, I will kill your twin,’’ he said coolly.

Cyrene gasped and tried to look at him, but he held tight to her neck.

‘‘You will not harm anyone,’’ Drake said in a tired voice. ‘‘You may be many things, but you are not a murderer. Let go of the naiad, brother.’’

Kostya looked like he wanted to argue that point, but to my great surprise, he dropped the hand holding the knife, his shoulders slumping in defeat. ‘‘There is much to be said for dealing with strangers who do not know one well. No, I am not a murderer. But I will do whatever it takes to get back what belongs to me.’’

Cyrene turned around and stomped on his foot, then slammed a knee into his groin. Kostya yelped and doubled over, clutching himself.

‘‘Oooh, right in the happy sacks,’’ Jim said, wincing. ‘‘That’s gonna sting.’’

‘‘That’s for using me! And that is for making me think you were nice when all along you’re a selfish, egotistical beast!’’ Cyrene stormed, shoving him into the wall.

‘‘Dragon, not beast,’’ Kostya said with painful little gasps of air.

‘‘Same difference.’’ Cyrene marched over to where I stood, telling Gabriel, ‘‘I take back everything I said about Kostya. As far as I’m concerned, you can have the phylactery. He doesn’t deserve it.’’

‘‘I’m so glad to have your permission,’’ Gabriel answered with a twinkle of humor in his eyes that quickly faded away.

‘‘Why don’t we take this opportunity of momentary calm to finish up before someone notices the lack of security?’’ I suggested.

Gabriel nodded, taking my hand as he led me toward the vault. ‘‘I take it that it’s safe for us to go in there?’’

‘‘Yes, unless you have some sort of a phobia about singing and dancing imps.’’

He shot me an odd look as he opened the door. The others followed, Kostya bringing up the rear in a half-shuffling, half-crab-walking sort of gait.

Misha the attendant was waiting in his room when we all piled in. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of us, but other than making a few sounds of disapproval at the sight of the bloody men, he said nothing. ‘‘Sign here,’’ he said, holding out a clipboard and pen.

I scanned the paper quickly, but it was just a statement that I had received my property back in the state it had been taken from me. I signed and handed the clipboard back.

‘‘Next time, please adhere to the stated hours,’’ he said, handing me a small box.

‘‘Gabriel?’’ I said, nodding toward it.

‘‘That’s mine!’’ Kostya said in a still somewhat strangled voice as he lurched forward.

Gabriel reached for the box but Misha held tight to it, backing up a couple of steps as he eyed us.

‘‘You are who?’’ he asked.

‘‘Konstantin Fekete, wyvern of the black dragons. The phylactery belongs to me.’’

‘‘The black dragons,’’ Misha said slowly. ‘‘Surely they all died centuries ago?’’

‘‘Not all. There are still a few of us. And we will regain what we once held-’’

Everyone in the room except Cyrene chanted in unison, ‘‘-but was taken from us. We will face death to restore to the sept the pride, the glory, the true essence, of what it once was.’’

Kostya glared at us all.

‘‘Don’t get him going about that, please,’’ Aisling said from where she stood behind us, leaning against Drake. ‘‘It’s late, and once he starts, it can take hours.’’

‘‘And this is your wyvern?’’ Misha asked me, nodding at Gabriel.

Gabriel bowed and introduced himself and his bodyguards.

Cyrene edged toward me, giving Kostya a glare as she did so. ‘‘Who’s that?’’ she whispered.

‘‘He’s the vault keeper. I wish now we’d done a twin identity swap before we came in here,’’ I whispered back.

‘‘Why?’’ she asked, but I didn’t have time to explain to her the importance of someone other than me taking the box.

Misha peered over Gabriel’s shoulder. ‘‘Ah. Drake Vireo, is it not? I had no idea the committee rescinded its order concerning your presence in Suffrage House.’’

Drake looked momentarily taken aback as Aisling gave him a long look. ‘‘It is nothing, kincsem ,’’ he told her. ‘‘A little misunderstanding about some items which might have gone missing.’’

‘‘Misunderstanding,’’ Misha snorted, saying in an aside to me, ‘‘Caught him trying to break into the vault more than one time over the centuries. He succeeded once. But that was before we got the electronics, eh, Vireo?’’

Drake adopted a haughty look. ‘‘I have no knowledge of what you speak.’’

Jim snickered.

‘‘May I have the phylactery, please,’’ Gabriel said, holding out his hand for the small box Misha held. ‘‘As you can see by the inventory, it belongs to my mate, not Kostya.’’

Misha shoved the box toward me. ‘‘That would appear in order, yes.’’

I held up my hands and took a step back. ‘‘Thanks. Just give it to Gabriel, please.’’

Misha frowned at me. So did everyone else. ‘‘I am trying to do just that. Please take it so that I may get back to my rehearsals.’’

‘‘Rehearsals? Do I want to know?’’ Aisling asked softy.

‘‘I don’t think so,’’ Drake answered.

‘‘Just give it to Gabriel, please,’’ I said, taking another step back.

Misha clicked his tongue in an exasperated manner. ‘‘I must return it to the owner. So far as the L’au-delà is concerned, you are the owner of this piece, and it is to your hands I must return it.’’

Kostya, standing mostly straight, started to move toward me, but Maata and Tipene blocked his way.

‘‘I understand that, and as owner, I give you permission to give it to Gabriel,’’ I said, moving back yet another step. I wondered briefly if I could get Misha to give it to Cyrene, instead of me, but suspected that even if he would, the dragons wouldn’t accept that.

‘‘I cannot do that,’’ Misha said.

‘‘What is the problem, Mayling?’’ Gabriel asked, his lovely brows pulled together.

‘‘I can’t take it,’’ I told him, unwilling to say any more.

‘‘Why not?’’

‘‘I just can’t. You take it.’’

Gabriel looked at the box. ‘‘Does it contain something dangerous?’’

‘‘No, I just can’t-’’

‘‘For the love of the sun and moon! I do not have time for this!’’ Misha shoved the box into my hands. The second it hit my flesh, the world shimmied for a few seconds. My fingers tightened around the box holding the phylactery as I gazed in absolute horror at Gabriel.

Before anyone could say anything, a demon opened up the fabric of being behind me, wrapped its hand around my upper arm, and yanked me with it through the gaping hole.

Being summoned to Magoth is never a pleasant experience, but when he used a demon to do the summoning, it was downright sickening. The demon dropped me on the floor, where I lay fighting the urge to retch, unaware for a moment of everything but the horrible sickness caused by being yanked through a hole in reality.

The second I heard Magoth drawl, ‘‘Greetings, dragon. I assume I have the pleasure of addressing the wyvern of the silver sept,’’ I realized two things: first, the tight feeling around my arm when the demon jerked me was due to Gabriel grabbing ahold of me (and thus being pulled along with me to Magoth’s presence), and second, life as I knew it was about to cease.

‘‘I am Gabriel Tauhou, yes. What business do you have with my mate that you must abuse her in this fashion?’’