Me and My Shadow
Page 60
“He would have to bring them here. I can’t begin to tell you what sort of hell there will be to pay if Cyrene sees Kostya with his little harem,” I said softly.
Gabriel shot me a questioning glance. “I thought she broke up with Kostya?”
“Cy’s method of breaking up isn’t final until the man dies or moves to another continent,” I said wearily. “She’ll keep moping over him for at least six months. If we’re lucky, she’ll find someone new who will drive all thoughts of the faithless Kostya from her mind.”
“May.” Kostya approached, giving me yet another bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Mindful of my manners and dragon etiquette, I smiled, and did not ask him if he cold-bloodedly murdered sixty-eight dragons in the last few days. “Thank you.” I searched through available topics of conversation that would not address any touchy subjects. “I imagine you’re happy the sárkány is finally being called. It must have been a difficult two months for you.”
There was a questioning look in his eye as if he sensed I might be insulting him, but he simply inclined his head in agreement. “I am indeed. As, no doubt, you have been waiting for this.”
He waved a hand and the male black dragon stepped forward, pulling from his inside coat pocket a long ebony case. Kostya took it, his gaze shifting to Gabriel. “I will not insult you by asking if you intend to honor your agreement.”
“I have yet to be accused of violating a vow,” Gabriel said calmly, although his placid expression hid a veritable inferno of emotions.
Kostya studied him for another few seconds, then handed him the long wooden box, turning away and returning to his brother’s side without another word.
The two supermodel guards eyed first Gabriel, then me, their expressions as blank as a wall. They followed Kostya, silent and stalwart, although I noticed one of them, the smaller of the two, was giving Gabriel a look that bespoke a personal interest.
The damned hussy. Eyeing him right in front of me.
Gabriel slid aside a metal lock and opened the wooden case for a moment. Lying on a bed of dark navy velvet was a long glass tube wrapped in intricate gold filigree. Inside the tube, a glittering crystal was suspended in some form of viscous liquid. I thought at first it was a clear crystal, somewhat quartzlike in appearance, but as Gabriel examined the phylactery, I realized that the shard wasn’t clear—it held innumerable colors, each of which flashed as light caught a plane of the shard. It was incredibly beautiful and just as incredibly impressive, positively reeking of power.
“So that’s the Modana Phylactery,” I said as Gabriel closed the case and handed it to Tipene. “It’s really lovely.”
“May, I can’t believe you would do this to me—so it’s true!”
“Oh, no,” I said, my heart sinking as Cyrene stood posed in the doorway, glaring dramatically at Kostya.
“You are having a sárkány now! You deliberately tried to exclude me! And who are those . . . those . . . hussies standing around that pig of a dragon?”
Chapter Fifteen
“Dammit, Jim,” I said in a low tone to the demon who straggled in behind my twin. “You were supposed to keep her shopping.”
“Hey, there’s only so much a demon can do in the face of a rampaging naiad! The second Cyrene heard the sárkány was for this afternoon instead of being put off until tomorrow, like some perfidious doppelganger told her, she dropped everything and came roaring home.”
“And just how did she hear that?” I snapped, pinching its ear.
“No pinching! Ow! It might have slipped out, that’s all. Man, I’m going back to Aisling. She might lose one or two of my toes, but she doesn’t pinch me all the time!”
Jim backed out of the door as Kostya strode forward a few feet.
“You have no place here, naiad,” he said scornfully, looking down his nose at Cyrene, his two models posing on either side of him. “You are not a member of any sept, nor are you a dragon, and you sure as hell aren’t a mate.”
“Oh, no,” I moaned softly. “He didn’t say that.”
“You would think he would have learned by now what a red flag that is to her,” Gabriel agreed, momentarily diverted by the scene to relax a smidgen.
“Oh!” Cyrene bellowed, stomping forward with surprising noise considering how petite she was. She stopped directly in front of Kostya, less than a foot away, turning her glare first on one hussy, then the second before finally settling it on the focus of her ire. “You take that back! You know full well I was your mate until you let greed and avarice take hold of you.”
“I have allowed nothing to take hold of me but good sense. You are not a wyvern’s mate,” Kostya ground out, his hands fisted. I watched him warily, ready to spring forward if he should lose his temper and try to get violent with Cyrene. I didn’t dispute that she was enough to try anyone’s patience, but I would not allow him to hurt her.
“I’m not talking about being a wyvern’s mate,” Cyrene shouted, taking me by surprise. Judging by the looks on the faces of the others around us, they were suffering from a similar emotion.
“Then what are you blathering about?” Kostya asked, and the two models took a step toward Cyrene, their attitudes menacing.
“How bad a breach of etiquette is it to punch another wyvern’s bodyguards in the face?” I asked Gabriel.
The dimple nearest me quivered for a moment. “Bad. Please do not indulge yourself.”
I sighed. “All right, but I want brownie points for restraint.”
“I’m talking about the person meant for you, you idiot!” Cyrene yelled, punching him in the chest. He rubbed it absently, frowning down at her, as she continued. “Not a dragon’s mate, just your mate. You know, the person you love and adore and want to spend a couple of centuries with. You told me you loved me! You said you couldn’t live without me!”
Kostya, to my great amusement, looked embarrassed, his gaze flickering around the room at us as we all watched with interest while Cyrene lambasted him.
“That was spoken in a private moment,” he said in a low voice, sending her a furious look.
“Screw private!” she snapped, poking him in the chest again. “You told me you loved me. You said we were meant to be together. Then you let that stupid lair ruin everything. You’re just a pig, Kostya! No, you’re a pig-dog! A pig-dog dragon, and I loathe the very sight of you! I never want to see you again. Do you hear me? Never want to see you again!”
Gabriel shot me a questioning glance. “I thought she broke up with Kostya?”
“Cy’s method of breaking up isn’t final until the man dies or moves to another continent,” I said wearily. “She’ll keep moping over him for at least six months. If we’re lucky, she’ll find someone new who will drive all thoughts of the faithless Kostya from her mind.”
“May.” Kostya approached, giving me yet another bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Mindful of my manners and dragon etiquette, I smiled, and did not ask him if he cold-bloodedly murdered sixty-eight dragons in the last few days. “Thank you.” I searched through available topics of conversation that would not address any touchy subjects. “I imagine you’re happy the sárkány is finally being called. It must have been a difficult two months for you.”
There was a questioning look in his eye as if he sensed I might be insulting him, but he simply inclined his head in agreement. “I am indeed. As, no doubt, you have been waiting for this.”
He waved a hand and the male black dragon stepped forward, pulling from his inside coat pocket a long ebony case. Kostya took it, his gaze shifting to Gabriel. “I will not insult you by asking if you intend to honor your agreement.”
“I have yet to be accused of violating a vow,” Gabriel said calmly, although his placid expression hid a veritable inferno of emotions.
Kostya studied him for another few seconds, then handed him the long wooden box, turning away and returning to his brother’s side without another word.
The two supermodel guards eyed first Gabriel, then me, their expressions as blank as a wall. They followed Kostya, silent and stalwart, although I noticed one of them, the smaller of the two, was giving Gabriel a look that bespoke a personal interest.
The damned hussy. Eyeing him right in front of me.
Gabriel slid aside a metal lock and opened the wooden case for a moment. Lying on a bed of dark navy velvet was a long glass tube wrapped in intricate gold filigree. Inside the tube, a glittering crystal was suspended in some form of viscous liquid. I thought at first it was a clear crystal, somewhat quartzlike in appearance, but as Gabriel examined the phylactery, I realized that the shard wasn’t clear—it held innumerable colors, each of which flashed as light caught a plane of the shard. It was incredibly beautiful and just as incredibly impressive, positively reeking of power.
“So that’s the Modana Phylactery,” I said as Gabriel closed the case and handed it to Tipene. “It’s really lovely.”
“May, I can’t believe you would do this to me—so it’s true!”
“Oh, no,” I said, my heart sinking as Cyrene stood posed in the doorway, glaring dramatically at Kostya.
“You are having a sárkány now! You deliberately tried to exclude me! And who are those . . . those . . . hussies standing around that pig of a dragon?”
Chapter Fifteen
“Dammit, Jim,” I said in a low tone to the demon who straggled in behind my twin. “You were supposed to keep her shopping.”
“Hey, there’s only so much a demon can do in the face of a rampaging naiad! The second Cyrene heard the sárkány was for this afternoon instead of being put off until tomorrow, like some perfidious doppelganger told her, she dropped everything and came roaring home.”
“And just how did she hear that?” I snapped, pinching its ear.
“No pinching! Ow! It might have slipped out, that’s all. Man, I’m going back to Aisling. She might lose one or two of my toes, but she doesn’t pinch me all the time!”
Jim backed out of the door as Kostya strode forward a few feet.
“You have no place here, naiad,” he said scornfully, looking down his nose at Cyrene, his two models posing on either side of him. “You are not a member of any sept, nor are you a dragon, and you sure as hell aren’t a mate.”
“Oh, no,” I moaned softly. “He didn’t say that.”
“You would think he would have learned by now what a red flag that is to her,” Gabriel agreed, momentarily diverted by the scene to relax a smidgen.
“Oh!” Cyrene bellowed, stomping forward with surprising noise considering how petite she was. She stopped directly in front of Kostya, less than a foot away, turning her glare first on one hussy, then the second before finally settling it on the focus of her ire. “You take that back! You know full well I was your mate until you let greed and avarice take hold of you.”
“I have allowed nothing to take hold of me but good sense. You are not a wyvern’s mate,” Kostya ground out, his hands fisted. I watched him warily, ready to spring forward if he should lose his temper and try to get violent with Cyrene. I didn’t dispute that she was enough to try anyone’s patience, but I would not allow him to hurt her.
“I’m not talking about being a wyvern’s mate,” Cyrene shouted, taking me by surprise. Judging by the looks on the faces of the others around us, they were suffering from a similar emotion.
“Then what are you blathering about?” Kostya asked, and the two models took a step toward Cyrene, their attitudes menacing.
“How bad a breach of etiquette is it to punch another wyvern’s bodyguards in the face?” I asked Gabriel.
The dimple nearest me quivered for a moment. “Bad. Please do not indulge yourself.”
I sighed. “All right, but I want brownie points for restraint.”
“I’m talking about the person meant for you, you idiot!” Cyrene yelled, punching him in the chest. He rubbed it absently, frowning down at her, as she continued. “Not a dragon’s mate, just your mate. You know, the person you love and adore and want to spend a couple of centuries with. You told me you loved me! You said you couldn’t live without me!”
Kostya, to my great amusement, looked embarrassed, his gaze flickering around the room at us as we all watched with interest while Cyrene lambasted him.
“That was spoken in a private moment,” he said in a low voice, sending her a furious look.
“Screw private!” she snapped, poking him in the chest again. “You told me you loved me. You said we were meant to be together. Then you let that stupid lair ruin everything. You’re just a pig, Kostya! No, you’re a pig-dog! A pig-dog dragon, and I loathe the very sight of you! I never want to see you again. Do you hear me? Never want to see you again!”
