Me and My Shadow

  “Kostya is old enough to deal with his women as he likes,” Drake said smoothly, although he shot his brother a look as he said it. “I would, however, appreciate it if he managed to refrain from outright sexual intercourse during the sárkány.”

  “You know how to take the fun out of any get-together,” Jim said.

  “I insist that he stop!” Catalina said, hands on her hips. She nodded to the two models. “Remove that naiad from the person of my dear son.”

  The two models hesitated, eyeing Cyrene. “I dare not contradict the wyvern,” one of them finally said.

  “You will do as I say,” she said, gaining control of herself with every passing moment. “Remove her!”

  “We cannot,” the second model said, casting an appealing glance toward the male bodyguard.

  “We answer only to the wyvern,” he explained, somewhat lamely to my ears.

  Catalina didn’t like that.

  “Drake!” she demanded. “Do something! She will smother him.”

  “Mother, I told you that your presence, no matter how charming, was not required at the sárkány,” Drake said, moving toward his mother, pausing only to glare at Magoth as he tried to look down Aisling’s top.

  She drew a ward in the air that had the demon lord leaping back with a yelp.

  “You obviously are not yourself right now. You will return to your room and rest,” Drake continued, taking his mother by the arm and propelling her toward the door.

  “You will not order me around like that! I did not rip you screaming from my body only to have you order me around now! Madre de dios, she will kill him! She will suck the life out of his body! Drake! You will cease pushing me out the door.” She lurched to the side of the door, clutching the doorframe.

  “Only dragons in septs recognized by the weyr may attend the sárkány,” Drake answered, prying her fingers off the frame. “You are a black dragon, and the black dragons have not yet been recognized. I will tell you later all that happens.”

  “I will not have this!” Catalina yelled as Pál and István, each taking an arm, hauled her toward the stairs.

  “Inventive, but alas, a bit on the shouty side,” Magoth said, taking my hand and pressing a wet kiss to the back. “It is better she is taken off. You look delicious as ever, wife. I see your twin will be hosting an orgy. Dare I hope that will take place during the torture?”

  I yanked my hand from his, but I really needn’t have bothered.

  Gabriel lifted Magoth up by the neck, and started to squeeze.

  “May, do something,” Magoth squeaked, his face turning red.

  “You know better than to bait Gabriel,” I told him, but mindful of the scene my twin was already creating, I decided that circumspection was the best course. I touched Gabriel on the arm and gestured toward the floor.

  He hesitated a moment; then he, too, realized that strangling Magoth on the spot wouldn’t be in the best interests of the sárkány. He released him with a warning of, “Touch her again, and I will remove your curse.”

  “You can’t remove it,” Magoth said blithely, then froze as the meaning sank into his lust-fogged brain. His hands moved protectively over his groin as he glared at Gabriel. “Wife, one of these days your lover will go too far.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I said as Drake marched over.

  “Your presence is not required, either,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “Leave.”

  “I think not,” Magoth said, sitting down in a chair set at the wall.

  “You are not a dragon. This is a sárkány, a meeting of the weyr. You cannot be allowed to stay,” Drake insisted.

  “Ah, but my consort is here, and where she goes, so goes me. I. Me. Whichever. Those are the rules, and since you are such a stickler for such, I’m sure you will have no difficulty agreeing I should follow them.”

  Drake shot me a questioning look.

  “Unfortunately,” I said, my shoulder slumping a little as I leaned into Gabriel, “he’s correct. The rules say he can demand to be in my presence at any time.”

  Drake said something that wasn’t very complimentary to anyone, but let it go, turning when the door opened again to admit a very handsome blond man, followed by two other men, both with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. “A thousand apologies for our lateness. The flight was delayed.”

  “Bastian,” Aisling called from her chair. “How nice to see you. Did you have much trouble getting into Fiat’s lair?”

  “None at all, dear lady. You look radiant as ever. Will you be having that child soon?” he asked, bowing over her hand.

  Drake growled and elbowed him aside.

  Aisling laughed. “Very soon, I hope. Forgive Drake—he’s overdosed on expectant-father genes.”

  “Ah, but it is understandable.” Bastian greeted Chuan Ren, who nodded coldly to him. He turned to us with a warm smile. “The blue dragons offer greetings to Gabriel and his charming mate. May, I present to you Duarte and Godhino, my guards. And is that your twin who Kostya is kissing?”

  “I’d say the reverse was technically the truth, but by now, it’s a moot point. Yes, that’s Cyrene. Please ignore them. They appear to be trying to break a world record,” I said, smiling at the blue dragon bodyguards as they grinned back at me before moving on to chat with Tipene and Maata.

  “And this is . . . er . . .” Bastian didn’t quite know how to take Magoth, I could see. “This is . . . ?”

  “I am Magoth, sixth principle spirit of Abaddon, lord of thirty legions, marquis of the order of dominations,” he said with an odd expression of concentration as he scanned Bastian’s face. “Don’t I know you?”

  Bastian looked startled. “No. I’ve never met a demon lord before. Other than Aisling, of course, but she doesn’t really count because she is not evil.”

  “Yes, I do. I know you,” Magoth said, continuing his scrutiny. “It was Milan in the last century. I was there for an opening of one of my films, and you were in the villa next to mine. You tried to seduce me. I would not let you because I was, at that time, busy enthralling a certain naiad who apparently has the ability to hold her breath for an inordinately long amount of time, but it was you—of that I’m sure. Well, well, well. And now you’re a wyvern?”

  Bastian looked a bit wild around the eyes. “I’ve never seen you before. I’ve never had a villa in Milan! My villa is in Santa Christina!”

  “I know it was you,” Magoth insisted.

  “It could have been Fiat,” I said thoughtfully. “You look almost identical, although it’s odd that Fiat didn’t remember you.”

  Magoth grunted his agreement. “I am unforgettable as a lover.”

  That was probably the understatement of the century. “I didn’t know that Fiat was of that persuasion, but I suppose anything is possible.”

  Magoth shrugged and looked away, bored. “He had his cock buried in the wife of the local mayor at the time he propositioned me, so he probably does as I do—whatever pleases him at the moment.” He glanced back at Bastian, about to ask an obvious question.

  “No,” Bastian said quickly, much to his bodyguards’ amusement. “I am not interested.”

  “Your loss, as my sweet May can tell you,” Magoth said, blowing me a kiss.

  Gabriel moved so fast I didn’t even see him. Magoth did, though. Or rather, he felt the result of Gabriel’s fist smashing into his nose. Magoth’s head snapped back, slamming into the wall.

  “My apologies,” Gabriel said to the room at large, returning to my side. Maata snickered. Tipene grinned broadly. I sighed. “I had a muscle spasm, and my hand must have hit Magoth.”

  “Muscle spasm,” I said, giving him a look.

  His dimples flared to life, and I considered for a moment duplicating my twin’s action, and leaping on the man I loved.

  “Later, little bird,” he said, the dratted man reading my mind again. He took my hand and tucked it into his arm. “Then you may have your way with me again.”

  “Enough!?
?? Chuan Ren said in a demanding tone. “Let us begin the sárkány so that I might seek my revenge against that worm Fiat.”

  I eyed Gabriel, thinking all sorts of thoughts that weren’t at all appropriate to a sárkány, as the dragons gathered around the table.

  “Kostya,” Drake said, standing next to his brother.

  Neither Kostya nor Cyrene stopped their epic kiss.

  “Konstantin Fekete,” Drake said in a louder voice, invoking Kostya’s full name to get his attention. When Kostya still didn’t respond, he gave him a hard shove, saying in a lower tone, “For god’s sake, Kostya, we’ve seen enough. Pull yourself together. The sárkány is ready to start.”

  Kostya managed to pull back from Cyrene, a dazed look on his face. “Sárkány?” he asked, clearly not registering the word.

  “Oh, Kostykins,” Cyrene cooed, sliding down his body until her feet were under her again. “I knew you cared. I just knew it. You admit it, don’t you? You love me more than some silly treasure.”

  Kostya’s expression hardened as intelligence returned to his eyes. A faint dusky flush rode his cheeks as he glanced around the room. “Erm . . . I was momentarily distracted. I apologize for such behavior.”

  “Oh no, you’re not getting away from me before you admit it,” Cyrene said, latching onto the front of his black tunic. “You have to say it before witnesses. I’m not going to repeat what I’ve gone through these last couple of days. You say it.”

  “Now is not the time, woman,” Kostya said, prying Cyrene’s hands off his shirt.

  “Of course it is. Say it!”

  “The sárkány is about to begin. We will deal with our personal issues later,” Kostya insisted, taking Cy by the wrist and pulling her over to a chair next to the wall. He shoved her down into it before striding over to the table.

  “Like hell we will! Say it!” She was there in front of him again. “Say it or so help me, I’ll smite you as you’ve never been smited!”

  “ ‘Smitten,’ I think, is the word. Is it not?” Bastian asked Duarte. “Which tense is that? English has always confused me.”

  “You can’t smite me,” Kostya said with a smug quirk to his lips. “Naiads don’t smite.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, suddenly realizing where the conversation was going to go. I glanced at Magoth, my fingers tightening around Gabriel’s hand. “Cyrene, I hate to agree with Kostya, but really, another time would probably be better for this.”

  Gabriel wasn’t slow on the uptake. He glanced down at my hand for a moment; then his brow cleared. “I agree with my mate. Another time, Cyrene.”

  “You think you know everything, don’t you?” Cyrene said, glowering at Kostya. “Well, you don’t!”

  I dropped Gabriel’s hand and hurried over to my twin. Magoth, blast his hide, must have caught one of my glances toward him, because he stood up, watching me with close attention. “Cy, really, this isn’t a good time. You can yell at Kostya later, after everyone’s gone, OK?”

  She completely missed the emphasis I put on the word “everyone.”

  “Stop yanking me,” she snapped, jerking her arm out of the grip I had on her. “And stop siding with that pig-dog!”

  “You will cease calling me that,” Kostya spat, a truly world-class glare pointed at her. “It is unfitting, and you are out of control.”

  Cyrene cast her arms wide, and black sparks snapped off her fingers, sending the two cover-model dragons squealing as they scrambled backwards. “I’ll show you who’s out of control!”

  “May!” The roar of anger almost shook the house.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them and met Gabriel’s sympathetic gaze. “Too late,” I told him.

  He smiled. “You can always shift and knock him unconscious?”

  “That is my power!” Magoth bellowed, I mean, really bellowed. The kind of bellow that makes windows rattle. Drake stood protectively in front of his wife, looking daggers at Magoth. “She has my powers! That . . . that . . .”

  Cyrene turned on Magoth with a look that would have scared a lesser demon lord. Streaks of black lightning edged with gold crackled between her hands, a manifestation of the dark power. “That what?”

  “That is my power,” he snarled, striding toward her, little tendrils of black crackling off him, floating to the ground as a fine ebony powder. “You stole it! By the dominions over which I rule, you will return it to me, or I will grind you into the earth you so fervently worship!”

  “Get Nora,” Aisling said, tugging on Drake’s shirt. He said nothing, just nodded at Pál, who had returned with István. Pál disappeared out the door.

  “I didn’t steal anything,” Cyrene squeaked, suddenly looking afraid despite the fact that she was in possession of more power than she knew how to use. Her eyes widened as he continued toward her, the black glow between her hands fading to nothing as she pointed. “May gave it to me!”

  Magoth whirled around and pinned me back with a look that chilled me to my toenails. “You I will deal with later, slave.”

  “This isn’t good,” I muttered to Gabriel. He wrapped an arm around me, narrowing his eyes at Magoth until the latter turned back to my twin.

  “Return it, and I will let you live,” Magoth said, gliding toward her.

  Cyrene’s gaze flickered from me to him. “I . . . I . . . May wouldn’t like that.”

  “No, I wouldn’t, any more than I like Magoth threatening you. If you have a bone to pick with anyone, it’s me, so stop trying to intimidate Cyrene. She has no idea how to give your power away, and she wouldn’t do so even if she did.”

  Magoth turned slowly to face me as I spoke, his eyes black pools that promised retribution.

  Instantly, Gabriel was in front of me, the wrath demon’s sword held easily in his hand, his legs braced in an obvious battle stance.

  Nora and Pál appeared in the doorway just as Magoth said, “You think you can stop me with a pathetic blade, dragon?”

  Gabriel raised the sword. “Try me.”

  I think Magoth would have—I truly think that even though he knew he didn’t have enough power to confront Gabriel and win, he was enraged enough that he would try to get through Gabriel to reach me. Luckily, Nora took the situation in almost immediately, and slapped a binding ward on him.

  He snarled and spat out curses while she quickly drew an even-stronger confinement circle around him.

  “I’m sorry, Drake, but I will need Aisling’s help. I’ve never done this before,” she said a few minutes later.

  Drake started to object, but Aisling grabbed his arm and used it to haul herself to her feet. “On it, Nora. Drake, stop glaring—your face will freeze like that. You can hold me, if you like, while we do this.”

  Magoth realized at that exact moment what they intended, and turned his ire onto me.

  “Wife!” he bellowed. “I will take you with me! By all that is unholy, this I swear to you—you will pay for the treachery you have performed this day!”

  I leaned into Gabriel, drawing strength from him. “This isn’t going to be pretty, you know.”

  He turned me to face him, his mouth warm on mine as he spoke. “I can stop it.”

  “No. It really is the only way. I just hope Nora is fast, because Magoth knows that he will have very little time to inflict a punishment on me before I’m summoned back.”

  “Is there no other way?” he asked, licking my lips with dragon fire.

  “No. Just tell her to be quick, OK?”

  Magoth screamed, a horrible sound that was punctuated by several explosions of glass objects in the rooms.

  “I’m so glad we had the window glass demon-proofed,” I heard Aisling say as Magoth’s scream rose higher and higher, piercing my brain.

  I wrapped my arms around Gabriel’s head, clutching him tight to me as I kissed him, taking in his dragon fire, letting it wrap around me, wrap around us, bonding us together in a fiery melding of love, regret, and passion.

  “Shadow, little bird,” w
as the last thing I heard before Magoth, banished by Aisling and Nora to the Akashic Plain, summoned me to his side.

  I hit the ground running, shadowing instinctively as Magoth gathered what remained of his power and whipped it around me, yanking me back to him.

  “Did you think you would escape this?” he snarled, his eyes burning with black revenge.

  At best guess, Nora would take about three minutes to complete the summoning, which meant I had to stay alive long enough for there to be anything left of me to summon. There was only one answer for that—I shifted into dragon form and slammed my tail upside Magoth.

  An interesting note about the Akasha: because it is outside the realm of reality, what applies beyond it does not necessarily apply within. Although Magoth had been stripped of most of his powers, in the Akasha, what he had was amplified, enlarged, and strengthened. He didn’t have the ability to get himself out, but he was overall more than he was in our reality.

  I threw everything I had into the slam against him, and fully expected him to go flying. He didn’t. He grabbed my tail as I hit him, and used the momentum to throw me a good fifty feet, striking a spiked outcropping of rock with enough force to knock me out for a few seconds.

  When I came to, I was in human form again, and Magoth was crouched over me, my dagger in his hands, both of which were raised over my chest.

  “First I will dig out your heart and slowly crush it beneath my heel. Then I will hack off all your limbs, slowly, so you can feel each stroke of your blade; then I will sever the veins in your neck one at a time, so that you can feel each exquisite moment as your brain is starved of blood. The last thing you see will be me, licking your blood off the dagger. The last thought you have will be that I destroyed you even as I helped make you.”

  “You always were such a ham,” I said, every atom of my being aching. “Overacting every scene, just as you are now.”

  “Cunnus,” he snarled, plunging the dagger into my heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “. . .What mortals sometimes think of as limbo, a place where beings are sent to be punished.”

  “I know what it is. I may be an elemental being, but I am familiar with things beyond my domain, like the Akasha. What I don’t know is how you expected to get Mayling out of there.”