Me and My Shadow (22 page)

“I am a connoisseur of sex,” Magoth said simply with a nonchalant little shrug. “It is more or less the same thing.”

I smiled another tooth-laden smile at the policeman, and swiveled slightly in my chair as he gave Magoth one last long look before entering some information into his computer. “How do you mean? You didn't find him?”

“Is Kostya there, too?”

I frowned at the question. Although Gabriel sometimes exhibited the dragon trait of answering a question with a question, he was normally forthcoming with information when I asked. “Not with us, if that's what you mean, but yes, he's back from Latvia. He . . . er . . . had a little accident with his house, too.”

To my surprise Gabriel wasn't the slightest bit interested in that. “Stay away from him, little bird.”

“That's going to be a bit on the difficult side, since he's staying in the same house as us,” I said cautiously.

“Kostya is at Drake's house?” Gabriel's voice was sharp with irritation. “Why is he there?”

I covered my cell phone's mouthpiece for a moment, speaking to the detective. “I'm sorry. My ma—um—partner is having a little family issue. I really need to take this call. I won't be long.”

“No doubt they wish to indulge in phone sex,” Magoth said, picking up a file from the inspector's desk and flipping through it. “They are always having sex.”

The inspector snatched the file away from Magoth, saying, as I got to my feet, “We will need a statement from Mr. Tauhou, as well.”

I nodded and wound my way through a dozen or so other desks to the hallway.

“My love to the beast master,” Magoth called after me.

I growled to myself as I hurried out of the office and down a hallway to a distant stairwell. Luckily, it was empty. “Sorry, Gabriel. I was in too public a place to talk. What in the name of midnight is going on? What do you mean, you didn't exactly find Fiat? And why should we stay away from Kostya? Does this have something to do with his trip to Paris?”

Gabriel's voice, when he finally spoke, was guarded and tense. “Did he tell you he went to Paris?”

“No. As a matter of fact, he wouldn't answer me when I asked him that, but Jim said he'd been there. What's happened?”

“We missed Fiat by what must have been minutes, but a calling card was left for us.”

Fear poked irrationally at my gut. The silver dragons had no bone to pick with Fiat, and yet I had a premonition that boded ill. I cleared my throat a couple of times before I could ask, “What sort of calling card?”

Silence answered me for the count of eight. “There are sixty-eight dead blue dragons in France.”

“Agathos daimon,”
I whispered, horror creeping up my flesh. “He killed his own sept members?”

“No. The dragons killed were those who followed Bastian, not Fiat.”

“He's insane,” I said, my mind not able to get past the idea of such a horrible slaughter.

“There is no one who will disagree with that.” His voice sounded weary, and my heart went out to him. Gabriel was a wyvern, strong and arrogant, but he was also a healer, and I knew he took that role very seriously. Facing such a wholesale slaughter of innocent people would wound him grievously on a deeply personal level. “It will take me another day before I can return home to you, but until that time, I must know that you are safe.”

“I don't understand what Fiat going on a murderous rampage has to do with Kostya. How are the two connected?”

Again, silence answered my question for a few moments. “Fiat could not have acted alone. There are too many deaths for the small band of ouroboros dragons who follow him,” he said slowly, and I could feel the regret that surrounded him. “I suspect he left the actual killing to his accomplice.”

“Who is that? You don't mean Kostya, do you? That doesn't make sense, Gabriel. He's keeping his nose clean right now because of the
sárkány
.”

“There will be no
sárkány
today. Chuan Ren and I must see to things here before we can return to England for the meeting.”

“I understand that, but you haven't explained why you think Kostya is involved. Gabriel . . .” I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to say what I wanted. “There have been grave problems between you and him, but even so, I don't see him eliminating half of Bastian's sept for Fiat. He might be a little out of line where it concerns the silver dragons, but he's not outright insane. He would know that if he supported Fiat, the weyr would not recognize his sept, or his right to lead it, and he wants that above all else. He wouldn't endanger that.”

A muffled voice sounded over his sigh. “I will be right there. Mayling, I must go. I'm being called to tend a survivor. I know it goes against your grain to do something without a reason, but please trust me on this—stay away from Kostya at all costs.”

“He wouldn't—” I started to say, but Gabriel cut me off with a sharp word.

“Kostya was seen leaving the scene in Paris. Do you understand? He was there, May. He was seen. Get my mother and Maata and the others, and get out of Drake's house. I must go. I will call later, when I can.”

The phone clicked off as I stared with unseeing eyes at an official police notice pinned to the stair door.

“Ms. Northcott?”

It took a few minutes for me to realize that the detective inspector was saying my name. I dragged my mind from the abyss of confusion that had claimed it, and rallied my scattered wits. “I'm sorry?”

“I asked if you were unwell. You look distressed.”

“Just a little family issue, I'm afraid. Did you have more forms for me to sign?”

“No. I would, however, request that you take your husband home. He is perilously close to being charged with assault.”

I hurried back into the office to retrieve Magoth, who sat perched on a female police officer's desk, openly leering down her blouse.

“You promised to behave,” I said as I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the poor woman.

“Have I mentioned I love it when you get dominant?” he purred, following me out to the lobby. “And I am behaving. I didn't once mock the mortals as I wished. I didn't tell them who you really were, or what your scaly boyfriend was. I didn't even correct their mistaken impression that our house was blown up by a gas line.”

“It's Gabriel's house, and our deal is off. Where's Cyrene and Jim?”

I looked around the busy lobby, but my twin and the large demon weren't anywhere to be found.

“I am a prince of Abaddon,” Magoth said, straightening his sleeve. “I am not a diviner.”

“You're a pain in . . .” I stopped before I got caught up in another argument. “Stay here while I look for them. Maybe she went to the ladies' room.”

I don't know why I expected Magoth to actually do something I asked. He didn't let me down, following me into the restroom, much to the chagrin of the women in there. Unfortunately, Cyrene wasn't one of them.

“She probably saw something shiny, and the magpie in her demanded she go see it,” I said, tight-lipped with annoyance as I emerged from the building to see the street lined with fashionable shops. “Great. It'll take at least an hour to ferret her out.”

“She always was easily distracted,” Magoth commented, following as I headed for the nearest shop. “I have no idea how you put up with someone who is so easily—oooh, leather!”

“I'm going to check out this side of the street. You can do the other,” I told him. I'd just reached the shop door when I heard my name being called. I spun around, catching sight of a furry black tail disappearing into a small pub. I dodged pedestrians to cross the road, pausing for a moment as I entered the bar to let my eyes adjust. “Jim?” I said, squinting a little bit.

There were only a couple of people in the bar, none of whom was Cyrene. There was also no sign of Jim.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, but have you seen a large black dog?” I asked a couple who were sitting at a table. They sat stiffly, as if uncomfortable. “He came in just a minute ago.”

“Jim is in the back, along with your twin,” a smooth voice said behind me. I froze as the Italian accent filtered through my brain. The couple at the table rose to face me, and I noticed immediately that they weren't humans—they were dragons.

Blue dragons.

I turned slowly. Fiat held a businesslike black gun, unfortunately pointed at my forehead. “I'm sure they will both be delighted to see you.”

“You do know I'm a doppelganger, yes?” I asked. “Not only am I immortal; I can slip into the shadow world, where you and your bullets can't harm me.”

“But they can harm your twin, can they not?” he asked smoothly.

“She's a naiad. All shooting her would do is make her very angry, and you can take my word for it that you don't want to be in a confined space when she's angry. She tends to get a bit elemental, if you get my drift.”

Before he could answer, Magoth strolled into the bar, clad in a black leather vest and matching skintight pants . . . ones without the seat.

“Assless chaps, Magoth?” I asked, distracted enough that I just had to ask him.

He posed so I could see the muscles of his behind flex. “They are made of the softest bull-scrotum leather.”

“Yes, but . . .
assless
chaps?”

He flexed a couple more times. “The mortals in the leather shop liked them. They offered to tattoo my arse, as well, but I showed them the curse on my cock and they said they couldn't match that, so I just took the clothes and left. What are you doing here?” He sniffed a couple of times. “Bah. More dragons. Who is he, another of your lovers? Why is he holding a firearm on you? Are you having potentially lethal foreplay without me?”

The questions were asked of me, but directed to Fiat, who, I was amused to note, looked somewhat disconcerted when Magoth marched over and put his arm around me. Normally I wouldn't have tolerated such an embrace, but I figured there were times when the devil you knew was better than the dragon you didn't.

“Who are
you
?” Fiat countered.

Magoth gave him one of his superior looks, the kind he reserved for wrath demons belonging to other demon lords. “I am Magoth, prince of Abaddon, and this is my consort. I ask again—why are you pointing a firearm at her? If you are planning on using that to have sex with her, you'll have to include me, as well.”

Fiat dragged his bemused gaze to me. “You are consort to a bisexual demon lord?”

“I'm not bisexual. I'm all-sexual,” Magoth said, buffing his nails and preening a little. “I'm an equal-opportunity demon lord.”

Fiat considered this for a moment before asking me, “Is it now mandatory that all wyverns' mates have some tie to Abaddon?”

“Could be Aisling and I are starting a new trend,” I said agreeably, elbowing Magoth when his fingers tried to slip down into my shirt. “I don't suppose you'd like to explain why you've apparently kidnapped my twin and a demon?”

“No,” Fiat said simply, and gestured toward the back of the bar. “Go.”

I toyed with the idea of refusing and shadowing, but both Fiat and I knew that although he couldn't kill Cyrene with his gun, he could damage her mind enough that she would not recover her faculties. It was a threat that all immortals lived with—a body that lived on while a mind was destroyed—and we tended to take such threats seriously.

“Alas, I cannot accompany you,” Magoth said, eyeing the reflection of his bared behind in a mirror next to the door. “I have appointments that must not be missed. I assume you will deal with this dragon and be at your bed at the appointed time?”

“I wouldn't count on her being in her bed any more than I would count”—Fiat gestured toward two men who sat near the door; they rose and took up positions in front of it—“on you making your appointments.”

“Perhaps a tattoo of myself during my film days on the left cheek,” Magoth murmured before Fiat's words sank in. He stopped admiring himself and turned a chilly glare on Fiat.

I stilled, noting that although Magoth was almost powerless, he still had a little corona of blackness around him that, when he was riled, snapped out at the unwary.

“You dare to defy me, dragon?” he asked, his voice as slick as ice.

I knew that voice. I knew that look in his eyes. What I didn't know was whether Fiat would respond to the threat that suddenly soaked the very air around us.

Fiat leaned forward and smiled at Magoth. “Gossip flies quickly in the Otherworld. I have had word of you, and know that you have been expelled from Abaddon without your powers.”

Magoth's gaze shifted to me for a moment, and I froze solid, terrified he would do or say something that would bring attention to the fact that I now had his powers. “My consort has initiated an appeal. My reinstatement should be forthcoming soon, a fact you would be wise to remember lest I seek payment for the insult you do me.”

Magoth was lying through his teeth about the appeal, but no one but he and I knew it, and I certainly wasn't going to correct him. He would never go to Gabriel of his own accord and tell him I was in trouble, but when it became known that Cyrene, Jim, and I were missing, Gabriel would hunt down Magoth and get the truth out of him.

Fiat made a mock sigh. “Everyone fights me. No one sees the sense in just doing as I ask. Renaldo?”

One of the two blond dragons behind Magoth took a step forward, then whipped his arm around from where he'd been holding it behind his back. Before I could call out a warning, he walloped Magoth on the head with a weighted leather blackjack.