Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [116]
‘‘No. Too much time has passed. But what happened to Cyrene? If that was Kostya I was following, Cyrene must have left him at some point. Probably that spot in Montmarte where I lost the trail for a bit. I’m sorry, Gabriel.’’
He nodded in acknowledgment of my regret. ‘‘It cannot be helped, little bird. We will return to Drake’s house and regroup. I’m sure Maata and Tipene are hungry.’’
Maata made a face. ‘‘You have no idea.’’
Our trip back to Drake’s elegant house was made in silence broken only by the rumbling of Maata and Tipene’s empty stomachs.
I left Gabriel, Drake, the bodyguards of both, Aisling, and Savian closeted together to discuss the assault on the committee’s vault. I had no stomach for planning—I positively itched with the need to be doing something, preferably finding Kostya and Cyrene. I wandered around a small garden at the side of the house, following the line of a tall hedge to a secluded little area containing a tiny fountain and two curved stone benches. The sun had set a short while ago, the night air close and heavy, as if it was about to rain.
‘‘Whatcha doing?’’ a voice asked from the other side of the fountain.
I jumped at the unexpected intrusion. ‘‘Jim! Oh, you scared me.’’
‘‘Sorry. Was taking a pee. What are you doing in Aisling’s outdoors sex spot?’’ Jim emerged from a shrubbery.
‘‘Outdoors sex spot?’’ I repeated in confusion.
‘‘Yeah. If you go over to that corner, the hedges block the view from all the houses around us. Aisling keeps a blanket out here in summer just so she and Drake can get naked. You and Gabriel going to get it on? Should I bring you a blanket?’’
‘‘I’m fine, thank you.’’
‘‘Your loss. What are you doing if you’re not scouting for an illicit love nest?’’
‘‘Wishing that it was a few hours from now,’’ I answered, rubbing my arms against a little prickle of goose bumps. ‘‘All this waiting around with nothing to do leaves me feeling itchy.’’
‘‘You sure it’s not fleas? I had a little bout with that myself last month, and Aisling just about had a fit.’’
‘‘I doubt it’s fleas,’’ I said with a little laugh. ‘‘It’s just a bit . . . irritating, if you know what I mean. Everyone is so concerned about plotting and planning when the matter is really very simple: I shadow walk in, report back as to which guards are posted where, and what sort of security is in place, and the dragons eliminate them.’’
The demon tipped its head on the side. ‘‘You really think it’s going to be that simple? The committee has had almost a thousand years to keep people out of their vaults, and I’ve never heard of anyone breaking in, let alone breaking in and getting away with anything.’’
‘‘They’ve never faced a force like ours, though.’’
‘‘True that,’’ it agreed. ‘‘So what are you going to do about Magoth? You still thinking of going dybbuk? ’Cause if you are, I want to watch when Magoth gets wind of it.’’
‘‘You’re an evil little beastie,’’ I said, tightening my lips.
‘‘Hello! Demon!’’
‘‘Sixth class, which means you weren’t born that way.’’ I inspected it carefully. ‘‘What were you originally? Elemental being? Demigod?’’
Jim snorted. ‘‘Ha. Like I look like I have that sort of power? I was a sprite in the Court of Divine Blood.’’
‘‘Fallen angel, I should have known.’’
‘‘Oh, puh-leeze,’’ it said, rolling its eyes. ‘‘Don’t even go there. It’s bad enough Aisling found out. I don’t need anyone else going on about it.’’
I laughed again and patted the top of its head. ‘‘Fair enough. To answer your question, no, I don’t intend to go dybbuk. I won’t have to. The situation will work itself out.’’
‘‘What situation?’’ a silky smooth voice asked behind me. Gabriel strolled toward me, his movements controlled and graceful, like a lithe tiger. He had changed clothes and was now dressed completely in black, the darkness of the clothing and the enveloping night making his eyes glow like moonlight on mercury.
‘‘The one concerning the phylactery. I was telling Jim that I think everything is under control, and don’t anticipate any problems.’’
Gabriel ran his thumb along my jawline,