Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [29]
Gabriel was first to his feet, but Kostya, with a snarl, flung himself forward over the hole into the lair. “It is mine!”
“Gold,” I crooned, stretching sensuously at the thought of it.
“Mine!” Kostya bellowed.
“We outnumber you,” I pointed out.
Cyrene, who had been grumbling as she dusted herself off, hurried over to stand with Kostya. “Oh no, you don’t!”
“We have Jim and Savian,” I pointed out as Gabriel, his eyes lit with familiar lust, took a step toward the hole, his breathing deepening. I knew the gold scent had hit him, as well.
“The agreement was for the shard,” Kostya yelled. “You will get use of the shard until May can re-form the heart and reshard it. That is all! The rest of the lair belongs to the black dragons!”
“Yeah!” Cyrene said.
I slipped down the edge of the rock, back to the almost-invisible pathway where Magoth lay gently snoring.
Gabriel watched me for a moment.
“Kostya’s right,” I told him, overriding the shard’s demand that I take it to the gold. I separated my mind from it, and started the process of shifting back to my own body again. “Much as I would love to see the gold that smells so very nice, we did agree to the shard only in exchange for our support with the weyr.”
Gabriel sighed heavily, but jumped off the stones and returned to my side, waving one hand at Kostya. “I bow to my mate’s demands. I will not challenge you for the lair so long as you let us use the Modana Phylactery.”
Kostya wasn’t happy over the idea of letting the shard go, even temporarily, but he had agreed to the terms, even if he was now regretting them. He nodded curtly at Gabriel and, grasping a convenient bit of vine, swung himself over the edge of the hole into the yawning darkness. Cyrene started to follow, stopping when his head popped back up, a familiar scowl on his face.
“This is my lair, Cyrene. Only black dragons may gaze upon its treasures.”
“I’m your mate,” she said, trying to shove his shoulders aside so she could climb into the hole.
He sighed heavily, casting me a plaintive look.
“You made this particular bed,” I told him, wrestling with the shard to regain control over my body. “I’m afraid you’re going to be lying on it alone. Dammit, Gabriel, the smell of gold is too much for me. I can’t shift back to my normal form here. I’m going to have to do it somewhere else.”
“I am so your mate! Well, all right, not technically, but I’m mate lite, so that counts.”
“Then we will go somewhere you feel more comfortable,” Gabriel said immediately, pushing a branch out of my way. I knew he would prefer remaining to take charge of the phylactery that Kostya would retrieve from the lair, but he selflessly escorted me up the almost-invisible path.
“No, it doesn’t count,” Kostya said as we left. “You are not a black dragon, Cyrene. I appreciate your help and support—”
“Oh! I like that! You string me along and now you dump me just when things are going good? Well, I have a few things to say about that, Mr. Dragon!”
Luckily, we moved out of earshot of Cyrene’s harangue. It took a good five minutes before we were out of the range of the scent of gold and I was able to catch my mental breath and take charge of myself again.
Savian and Jim followed along after a few minutes.
“Sorry. Don’t mean to intrude,” Savian apologized as Gabriel stood gently stroking my back while I pushed the dragon form back into a more familiar one. “But your twin is a little . . . er . . .”
“Bitchy,” Jim said, snorting when the last of the silver scales disappeared into beige-ish skin.
“Vehement,” Savian corrected with