Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [12]
We both ignored that complaint.
“You think Kostya got into Baltic’s lair?” I asked.
“Makes sense to me,” Savian grumbled. “A visit to my boss’s lair would certainly be number one on my list of things to do once I took over as head dragon.”
“But Kostya was imprisoned for a century in the aerie in Nepal.” I thought for a moment, trying to remember what Aisling had told me of Kostya’s spotted history. “Gabriel, didn’t you say he was nearly dead when you found him?”
“Emaciated and wounded, but not as close to death as you think. I told you before, little bird, it takes a concerted effort to kill a dragon, especially a wyvern. But that is not the point—Kostya retreated to the aerie after the fall of Baltic in order to lick his wounds and dream darkly of a return to power. He was not imprisoned until recently, a few years ago at the most.”
“By Baltic,” I said, trying to get the facts straight in my woefully confused mind.
Gabriel gave me an odd look.“If Kostya had breached his lair, do you think Baltic would have contented himself with simply confining Kostya?”
“He’d have been toast,” Savian said, nodding.
“Point taken. So you sent Savian after what, then? The location of the lair? The shard? Or Baltic himself?”
“All three if possible,” Savian answered, rubbing the back of his head again. I felt guilty enough to move to the other side of the bed, perching on the foot of it. “But it was the lair I was to find at all costs.”
“And you found it in Latvia?”
“I found where it used to be, yes. That is, I found Baltic’s stronghold. The one he held before he . . . er . . . was toppled.”
“Dauva,” Gabriel said, a distracted expression on his face. “You found Dauva. Many have sought it, but all traces of it have long since disappeared.”
Savian gave another half smile, half wince. “Most dragons don’t have the skills necessary to see through the layers of protection that were woven over the remains. To be honest, even I didn’t find it the first time I searched the location. But going by the records you gave me, I knew it had to be there, so I kept looking for signs, and two days ago, I found one.”
“An entrance to the lair?” I asked, every hair on my body standing on end at the thought of gold. The dragon shard, never subtle in its attempt to turn me into a dragon, swamped me with a sudden, overwhelming physical need for Gabriel. I looked at him in mute appeal, my hands gripping the blankets on the bed to keep me from throwing myself on him.
“Mate,” he responded, his eyes flashing with silver heat, his voice deepened by arousal. It swept along my sensitized skin like silk. I moaned.
“Am I de trop?” Savian asked, amusement evident in his voice.
“It’s the shard,” I ground out through clenched teeth, still fighting with my body and the dragon shard to regain control. “Don’t mention gold.”
“I didn’t. Oh, the lair?” He shook his head. “I didn’t find it, let alone any go—er . . . that shiny substance that acts like an aphrodisiac to dragons. I think I was close to the lair, but before I could pursue a very intriguing scent, that she-devil with the red hair found me. After that, the only thing I was concerned with doing was keeping my skin where it belonged.”
Savian’s calm, matter-of-fact voice dampened my ardor somewhat. Gabriel, with an effort, stopped stripping me with his eyes, and settled his gaze on Savian. His jaw was tense, however. I knew all I’d have to do was reach out with one silver-scaled, scarlet-tipped finger, and his control would snap.
“Mayling,” he warned, keeping his eyes on Savian.
“People who read other people’s minds can’t complain about what they find there,” I said, making a heroic effort to get control of my rampant emotions.
Savian laughed. “Even I knew what you were thinking, May. And if I didn’t think a limb or two might drop off if I got out of bed, I’d leave you two alone, although I would like to point