Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [68]
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