Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [96]
“And this is . . . er . . .” Bastian didn’t quite know how to take Magoth, I could see. “This is . . . ?”
“I am Magoth, sixth principle spirit of Abaddon, lord of thirty legions, marquis of the order of dominations,” he said with an odd expression of concentration as he scanned Bastian’s face. “Don’t I know you?”
Bastian looked startled. “No. I’ve never met a demon lord before. Other than Aisling, of course, but she doesn’t really count because she is not evil.”
“Yes, I do. I know you,” Magoth said, continuing his scrutiny. “It was Milan in the last century. I was there for an opening of one of my films, and you were in the villa next to mine. You tried to seduce me. I would not let you because I was, at that time, busy enthralling a certain naiad who apparently has the ability to hold her breath for an inordinately long amount of time, but it was you—of that I’m sure. Well, well, well. And now you’re a wyvern?”
Bastian looked a bit wild around the eyes. “I’ve never seen you before. I’ve never had a villa in Milan! My villa is in Santa Christina!”
“I know it was you,” Magoth insisted.
“It could have been Fiat,” I said thoughtfully. “You look almost identical, although it’s odd that Fiat didn’t remember you.”
Magoth grunted his agreement. “I am unforgettable as a lover.”
That was probably the understatement of the century. “I didn’t know that Fiat was of that persuasion, but I suppose anything is possible.”
Magoth shrugged and looked away, bored. “He had his cock buried in the wife of the local mayor at the time he propositioned me, so he probably does as I do—whatever pleases him at the moment.” He glanced back at Bastian, about to ask an obvious question.
“No,” Bastian said quickly, much to his bodyguards’ amusement. “I am not interested.”
“Your loss, as my sweet May can tell you,” Magoth said, blowing me a kiss.
Gabriel moved so fast I didn’t even see him. Magoth did, though. Or rather, he felt the result of Gabriel’s fist smashing into his nose. Magoth’s head snapped back, slamming into the wall.
“My apologies,” Gabriel said to the room at large, returning to my side. Maata snickered. Tipene grinned broadly. I sighed. “I had a muscle spasm, and my hand must have hit Magoth.”
“Muscle spasm,” I said, giving him a look.
His dimples flared to life, and I considered for a moment duplicating my twin’s action, and leaping on the man I loved.
“Later, little bird,” he said, the dratted man reading my mind again. He took my hand and tucked it into his arm. “Then you may have your way with me again.”
“Enough!” Chuan Ren said in a demanding tone. “Let us begin the sárkány so that I might seek my revenge against that worm Fiat.”
I eyed Gabriel, thinking all sorts of thoughts that weren’t at all appropriate to a sárkány, as the dragons gathered around the table.
“Kostya,” Drake said, standing next to his brother.
Neither Kostya nor Cyrene stopped their epic kiss.
“Konstantin Fekete,” Drake said in a louder voice, invoking Kostya’s full name to get his attention. When Kostya still didn’t respond, he gave him a hard shove, saying in a lower tone, “For god’s sake, Kostya, we’ve seen enough. Pull yourself together. The sárkány is ready to start.”
Kostya managed to pull back from Cyrene, a dazed look on his face. “Sárkány?” he asked, clearly not registering the word.
“Oh, Kostykins,” Cyrene cooed, sliding down his body until her feet were under her again. “I knew you cared. I just knew it. You admit it, don’t you? You love me more than some silly treasure.”
Kostya’s expression hardened as intelligence returned to his eyes. A faint dusky flush rode his cheeks as he glanced around the room. “Erm . . . I was momentarily distracted. I apologize for such behavior.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting away from me before you admit it,” Cyrene said, latching onto the front of his black tunic. “You have to say it before witnesses. I’m not going to repeat what I’ve gone through these last couple of days. You say it.”
“Now is not the