Me and My Shadow (14 page)

“So am I. But . . . ?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Drake won't let Aisling so much as lift her arm without a spotter and three pillows to protect it.”

“Her history might have something to do with that,” he said, amusement back in his voice. “She has not always been so competent with her powers. But you are.”

We hung up a few minutes later, after a few exchanges of a more private nature. But something he said had me thinking, so after double-checking that Magoth was all right—he was snoring softly to himself, so I gathered no serious damage had been done to him—I went in search of Maata.

“Do I look any different to you?” I asked her when I found her.

She stopped putting clean clothes into her dresser and eyed me. “Should you look different?”

“That's not what I asked. Do I look any different? Or . . . feel any different to you?”

“I haven't felt you.”

I made a face at her grin. “You're being deliberately dragon.”

“I'm sorry,” she laughed, closing the drawer and walking around me to examine me from all angles. “It's habit. Let's see. . . . No, you look pretty much the same as you did when you and Gabriel left. Why do you ask?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I was now in possession of a demon lord's full powers, but I decided that was probably best kept to as few people as possible.

“Just a thought I had. I'm going to trot over to Aisling's house—What in the name of the spirits is that?”

Voices raised in anger could be heard from downstairs. The house had an elaborate security system, but due to the fact I was now bearing a priceless relic of dragonkin, Gabriel had added additional security in the form of extra patrols by silver dragons. The two dragons who watched the downstairs were yelling now, but it was a familiar, higher-pitched voice that had me racing down the hall to the stairs below.

“Sounds like your twin.”

“It does indeed. And that man's voice is very familiar, as well. What on earth has she done to bring
him
down on our heads?”

The two dragons, Obi and Nathaniel, were doing their best to stop a very determined individual from entering the house, but Cyrene was getting in their way. Obi had his hands full with Cy, trying to pull her off the visitor, but it was difficult going, since she was determinedly fighting, kicking, making dire threats, and yanking the hair of her victim.

“How dare you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. My eardrums rattled. I felt sorry for anyone closer to her than I was. “I am a daughter of Tethys! You will feel the true vengeance of a sister of the house of Hydriades!”

“Let go of me, you madwoman, or you will find out what vengeance really feels like!” the man yelled back.

“Is that—Hoo,” Maata said, getting a good look at the man Nathaniel was all but wrestling.

“What in the name of the sun and moon is going on here?” I yelled, trying to be heard over the noise of so many people shouting. “Cyrene, let go of Dr. Kostich's hair.”

“He called me a name!” she snarled, giving his hair a good yank. “He called me a tree hugger.
Me!
”

“You like trees. Let him go. And you can stop doing
that
, too.”

Blood flowed from the punch Cyrene managed to get in to Kostich's nose.

“I may like trees, but I'm not a druid. I've never been so insulted in all my days!”

Druids and water beings, for some reason I've never been able to fathom, insisted on perpetuating a feud that went back at least a millennium. There was no insult worse in the water-elemental circles than to be thought in sympathy with druids.

Dr. Kostich bellowed an obscenity, trying desperately to fling Nathaniel, Maata (who was helping Nathaniel), and Cyrene off him. “Cease, you insane watery twit! I demand that you unhand me!”

“Watery twit?
Watery twit!
Oh! I'll show you who's a watery—”

“Stop it right now!” I yelled, grabbing Cyrene with both hands and pulling. The dragon shard wanted to help, but I didn't want to let it loose. I dug in my heels and pulled, finally ripping my twin off the head of the L'au-delà with a shriek that made my ears ring a second time.

“Just you wait,” Cyrene panted, shaking her fist at him as both Obi and I dragged her over to a chair next to the wall. “Just you wait until there's no one around to save you, mage!”

“Cy, remember who you are speaking to,” I warned, casting a worried eye over at Kostich.

“Oh, he can't do anything to me. The council of el ementalists isn't afraid of the L'au-delà committee,” she said, tossing her head. She straightened her clothing with dark mutters.

“I apologize for my twin's actions,” I said, leaving her to see how Dr. Kostich fared. He slapped away Nathaniel's hands as the dragon tried to dust him off. His glare was world-class, almost as good as Magoth's—and almost as potent. It stopped me dead in my tracks for a few seconds, a horrible sensation of immobility gripping my entire body, including my heart and lungs, before I instinctively shadowed and slipped out of his control.

Dr. Kostich murmured something rude about doppelgangers under his breath as I dropped the shadow.

I handed him a couple of tissues, and said, “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, mostly because I feel bad that you and Cyrene got into a fight, but also because I suspect the dragons wouldn't take kindly to you insulting their wyvern's mate. I take it you came here to see me, and not Gabriel?”

“. . . never been treated in such a manner. What?” He stopped muttering as he dabbed at his bloody nose. “Yes, of course I came here for you. You and that turn-coat thief taker who has been shielding you.”

“Savian Bartholomew?” I shook my head. Gabriel and I had discussed the fact that sooner or later Dr. Kostich was going to find out where I was, and I was confident that I could placate him by some means or other. “He's not here. In fact, he's out of the country.”

Dr. Kostich wadded up the bloody tissue and flung it onto a nearby table. “Then I will simply track him down as I have tracked you down. You are under arrest, May Northcott, and wyvern's mate or not, you will accept the punishment meted out to you by the council!”

“No,” I said, shaking my head a second time.

Dr. Kostich stared in surprise at me for a moment.

“You go, girl. Don't let that arcane bully push you around. You're
my
twin! He can just stick that in his—”

“That's enough from the peanut gallery, thank you,” I said hastily, giving Cyrene a quelling look that she completely ignored. “Dr. Kostich, I recognize the fact that you feel it's necessary for me to pay for alleged crimes, but I am—Oh, what now?”

Through the partially opaque bulletproof glass that lined either side of the front doors I could see the shapes of two men as they pounded the knocker. A sudden familiar sense struck me just as Nathaniel went to answer the door, an awareness that I recognized came from the dragon shard, not me.

“No, don't—” I started to say, but at that moment Nathaniel reached the door. It was flung open with a violence that sent the dragon flying backwards into Maata, who had rushed forward to stop him.

A man stood in the doorway, dark-haired, dark-eyed, large, and imposing, his long dark chocolate hair pulled back from a widow's peak.

“Baltic,” I said, my breath caught suddenly in my throat.

His ebony eyes lit on me, amusement filling them. “Mate. I thought I would find you here.”

“I am not your mate. You would think after I've told you that so many times you'd begin to understand that. Would it help if I wrote it out on flash cards?”

“I understand more than you can possibly conceive,” he answered with typical dragon arrogance.

“Who is this?” Dr. Kostich demanded to know, his eyes narrowed on the newcomer. “Who are you, sir, that you would interrupt official L'au-delà business?”

It was clearly up to me to make the introductions. “This is Baltic, Dr. Kostich. Sometimes referred to as the dread wyvern Baltic, although I believe that title was granted him in the past, back when he was leader of the black dragon sept.”

“Baltic.” Dr. Kostich frowned as he tried the word a couple of times. “Baltic. I believe I remember something about a dragon with that name.”

I smiled to myself at the irritated look that flashed for a moment in Baltic's eyes. It was interesting to see that even the cool, collected Baltic had an ego that could be prodded.

“Wasn't there some business concerning you that ended with the death of a wyvern? A female, one who fought against you. Had a French name.”

“Ysolde?” I asked, trying to think of anyone who could fit that description. My knowledge of dragon history wasn't that great, but I had read what I could find about the silver dragons.“She was a wyvern's
mate
, not a wyvern.Although she did have a French name: Ysolde de Bouchier.”

“That's it,” Kostich said, giving a curt nod before considering Baltic again. “You destroyed a wyvern's mate.”

Baltic's face grew dark. He stalked over to Dr. Kostich, whom I had to admire for not even flinching in the face of a furious dragon. “I did not destroy Ysolde. Constantine Norka did that!”

I felt my jaw sag a little as I slid a glance toward Maata. “Ysolde was killed by the silver wyvern?” I asked her in a whisper.

Her face was impassive as she watched Baltic. “That was before my time.”

Typical dragon nonanswer.

“I thought you died,” Dr. Kostich asked, flicking a piece of lint from his arm with studied nonchalance. I might be a master at presenting a calm appearance in a highly charged situation—or rather, I might have been before the dragon shard embedded itself in me—but I had to give Dr. Kostich kudos; his indifferent, placid expression made me look like an amateur. “I am sure they told me you were killed by one of your own sept members.”

Baltic's jaw tightened as he gave Dr. Kostich an assessing once-over. “You have the smell of alchemy about you, mage. I assume you received your quintessence back again?”

“Again?” I asked, curiosity overriding my better sense. “No, I think that's far enough, Baltic. Gabriel won't be happy to hear that you forced yourself into his house; he'll be furious if you insist on coming any farther than the front hall.”

“You want us to throw them out, May?” Maata asked softly, her body language relaxed, but she stood on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce.

“No, I don't think that will be necessary. Whatever you have to say to me, Baltic, can be said here. And your little buddy can stay outside.”

The man who stood silently behind Baltic, as dark and menacing as his leader, stiffened at the insult. All three silver dragons stiffened with him, just as if they were panthers about to spring. Baltic lifted his hand and his man backed down, taking a few steps backwards until he was on the front steps leading up to the house.

“If you don't mind, what exactly do you mean by
again
? Was the quintessence stolen recently?” I asked.

Unexpectedly, a little smile quirked the corners of Baltic's mouth. “You should know; the word is that you stole it.”

“And returned it promptly the next day just as soon as was humanely possible,” I said quickly, glancing at Dr. Kostich.

To my extraordinary relief, he was still focused on Baltic. “I
know
they said you were dead.”

The muscle in Baltic's jaw jumped again.

“The word ‘again' implies it was stolen before. You wouldn't happen to be interested in alchemy, too, would you?” I asked Baltic.

He shot me an irritated look. “I am no glorified chemist playing with potions.”

“But the quintessence—”

“May be the focus of an alchemist's interest, but I have no use for transforming matter at all. He can keep his precious quintessence,” he interrupted with a particularly wolfish smile. “I have come for my shard, mate.”

Dr. Kostich sucked in a breath, his fingers twitching. Mages frequently drew elaborate runes in order to access their power. Although he stood in a relaxed position, with his hands apparently calmly at his side, I could see that his fingers twitched and jerked in what I realized was a subtle pattern. He was drawing a rune.

Of the two evils, Kostich was definitely the lesser. The L'au-delà was governed by rules and laws; Baltic clearly made his own as he went along. Therefore, it would be hoove me to throw my lot in with Kostich, no matter if it was only temporarily.

I lifted my chin and gave Baltic a long, calm look. “We've had this out before, Baltic. I'm not going to let you kill me just so you can get the shard.”

Kostich's pupils flared for a few seconds as he glanced at me.

“I was referring to the shard you stole from my lair earlier today, although now that you speak of it, I agree that it would be more convenient to take both now than be forced to return for the second one later.”

I tipped my head to the side as I looked him over, the dragon shard gleefully throwing caution to the wind. “I did not steal any shard. Well, not in the last couple of months. The Modana Phylactery was taken by its rightful owner, Kostya, not me. As for the other—the phrase ‘over my dead body' has always seemed overly dramatic to me, but at this moment, it seems particularly apropos.”

“You will find there are several bodies you will have to overcome in order to harm May,” Maata said, taking a step forward. The other two dragons did likewise, their faces wearing identical expressions of intent as they moved into flanking positions.