Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

I used a chair next to me to drag myself to my feet. Gabriel looked even more battered than he had moments before, his nose bleeding again. ‘‘Don’t talk to him,’’ I begged, throwing myself toward Gabriel.

‘‘Stop!’’ Magoth flicked his fingers toward me, capturing me in an invisible web that bound me where I stood. ‘‘I believe you have something of mine, sweet May. You will hand that over now.’’

Gabriel’s eyes glittered with a burning light as he turned his gaze on the demon lord. ‘‘Release my mate.’’

‘‘Don’t talk to him. For the love of the gods, Gabriel, don’t converse with him.’’

A slight frown appeared between his brows. ‘‘Are you well, mate? You seem overly distressed about a trivial matter.’’

‘‘It’s not trivial,’’ I said, all but sobbing. ‘‘You have to leave, Gabriel. You have to leave now.’’

‘‘I am not going to leave you by yourself,’’ he said, a flash of disbelief in his eyes.

‘‘You have to.’’ I had a hard time catching my breath, but made an effort to calm my wildly beating heart. Gabriel would respond to reason-he had to. ‘‘This has nothing to do with you. Magoth cannot hold you prisoner without bringing down the wrath of the weyr upon his head. You must leave, now, before…’’ The words came to a stop. I couldn’t tell him the truth, not while Magoth watched us with laughing black eyes.

‘‘May,’’ Gabriel said softly, taking my hands. ‘‘I thought you understood that there is nothing this demon lord can do to make you hurt me. You fear for my well-being unnecessarily. I told you that I’m incredibly difficult to kill. You really must learn to trust me.’’

I closed my eyes against the pain for a few seconds, my soul weeping tears of sheer agony. I wanted to scream to the heavens, to rail against the vault attendant and the pedantic rules that insisted he deliver my possessions into my hands. I wanted to destroy Magoth for the anguish he was about to wreak upon my life. But most of all, I wanted to tell Gabriel how sorry I was, how deep into my being he had burrowed.

‘‘Little bird, why do you cry?’’ he asked softly, the gentle brush of his thumb over my cheekbone so sweet, it broke down the last of my reserves, and I admitted the truth. I didn’t just love him-I loved beyond all reason, with every atom of my being.

I stared at him, unable to speak the words before the abomination that was responsible for all my grief.

‘‘As fascinating as this is, I do have an appointment in fifteen minutes,’’ Magoth said, glancing at his watch. He stood and strolled over to where I was still bound to the floor, eyeing Gabriel curiously for a moment, clearly sizing him up. ‘‘This is what you spurned me for? Dreadlocks, sweet May? Or is it the beast within that holds such an attraction for you?’’

I swallowed back a lump of hot, burning tears and met Magoth’s gaze. ‘‘I will not discuss Gabriel with you.’’

‘‘What is it you want of my mate?’’ Gabriel asked again, crossing his arms and moving a smidgen so he stood partially blocking me.

Magoth’s stark black eyebrows rose at the protective gesture. ‘‘I wonder if it would be worth the trouble that would follow should I reprimand you for such insolence.’’

‘‘You are welcome to try,’’ Gabriel said pleasantly, but there was a clear warning in his eyes.

‘‘Such temptation… but I believe I will be duly compensated despite refusing to give in to it. May, the phylactery.’’ Magoth held out his hand for the box I still clutched.

Gabriel’s gaze shot to me.

‘‘Do I see a little crack in the relationship?’’ Magoth asked, smiling. ‘‘You look surprised, wyvern. Did you not know that your mate was charged with retrieving the phylactery for me? Ah, I see by that surprised look that you did not. How deliciously naughty of sweet May. I gather she also failed to inform you of the deal we made, whereby I would grant her a temporary cessation of her duties to the tune of a hundred years in return for the safe delivery of the phylactery.’’

I couldn’t continue to look at Gabriel. The guilt was too much, my grief too overwhelming. My gaze dropped to my hands and stayed there until Gabriel put a finger under my chin and tilted my head back.

‘‘Is this true?’’ he asked softly, hurt and confusion starkly evident in his face.

‘‘Yes,’’ I said without hesitation. ‘‘I told you that Magoth found out about the phylactery.’’

He was still for a moment, his eyes searching mine. ‘‘This release Magoth offers you-a hundred years may seem like a lot to you, but our life together will span many such centuries. To barter the phylactery for a brief moment of freedom-’’

‘‘I didn’t barter it,’’ I interrupted him. The lump was back in my throat. How could Gabriel believe I would trade temporary freedom for something that meant so much to him? ‘‘Magoth offered me that as a reward. I did not accept it.’’

Magoth sucked in a hissing breath, the room suddenly growing dark as if the corona of dark power that surrounded him leached all brightness from the overhead lights. ‘‘You would not dare,’’ he said, little snakes of the power snapping around me.

Gabriel’s fingers tightened around mine. ‘‘I do not understand what it is you intend to do, but I do not like this situation. We will leave now.’’

I nodded, suddenly wearied by the world. There was, of course, the quick way out of things, but that would leave me without Gabriel, and I wasn’t willing to give him up. Not even for eternal peace. I just prayed that he felt the same way about me, because what I was about to ask him to do would go completely against the grain. ‘‘Yes. It is time to leave.’’

Magoth took a deep breath, his body growing in size until he stood a foot taller than Gabriel. ‘‘You would not dare!’’ he bellowed, and I knew that at that moment, he saw the true depth of feeling I had for Gabriel. ‘‘Think carefully, May Northcott. Do you know what the penalty is for a minion who goes dybbuk?’’

‘‘Dybbuk? What is this word? I am not familiar with it,’’ Gabriel said, his frown growing blacker.

‘‘I will lock you away in the darkest depths of Abaddon,’’ Magoth warned, his voice taking on a pitch that was painful on the ears. ‘‘I will make you suffer every torment I can think of, and I assure you, minion, I have spent millennia devising tortures to bring even first-class demons to their knees begging for release.’’

My gut tightened, pain radiating outward from it.

‘‘You will survive each day, living in perpetual torment, with no hope of reprieve, May Northcott. No hope whatsoever.’’

I nodded, my eyes on Gabriel. I wanted to drink in the sight of him until the last possible moment. Who knew when I would see him again-until then, I wanted to remember that strong jaw, the hint of indentation on his cheeks that I knew hid dimples, eyes so beautiful it almost hurt to look into them. I wanted to sear him into my memory so that no matter what happened, no matter what Magoth would do to me, I would always have the memory of Gabriel.

The man I loved more than my own life.

‘‘Magoth, seventh principal spirit of Abaddon, lord of thirty legions, marquis of the order of dominations, I formally refute your bondage over me, and refuse your bidding. Take the phylactery,’’ I said, turning the hand Gabriel held so that I could place the box on his palm. ‘‘It’s yours. I give it to you freely.’’

Magoth screamed, a sound so horrible it blew out all of the windows in the room. ‘‘No! You will not do this!’’

It was as if a tornado had been released around us. Magoth’s fury manifested itself in the utter destruction of every nonliving thing in the room. Books exploded, furniture burst into a thousand pieces, glass and metal and wood all rained down upon us in a terrible downpour, the echoes of his scream gathering into him as he stalked toward me.