Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [128]
Magoth laughed, the sound causing a layer of plaster from the ceiling to crumble to our feet. ‘‘Oh, yes, this promises to be greatly amusing. A consort who was once the mate of a wyvern. Come, sweet May. We have many plans to make. Many, many plans.’’
I stumbled backward out of the room, my eyes on Gabriel as Magoth hauled me off. I wanted desperately to tell Gabriel that I loved him with every bit of my being, that nothing Magoth could do would ever change that, but I didn’t dare. Magoth might suspect my feelings for Gabriel, but he would not act without assurance of them . . . and I would not give him the ability to destroy Gabriel.
‘‘I will do as you ask, little bird,’’ was all that he said as Magoth dragged me out of the doorway. Gabriel’s eyes, his beautiful expressive eyes, glowed with emotion so brightly, it made my soul weep. ‘‘Just remember that I am a dragon, and I do not give up what is mine.’’
My heartache eased despite the finality of the door closing between us. I had faith in Gabriel. I had faith in us both. My life spent in the shadows was over; now it was time to step out into the light and take my place at Gabriel’s side.
I took a deep breath and followed Magoth into the depths of Abaddon.
Author’s Note
Fans of the dragons and Otherworld are welcome to visit both at www.dragonsepts.com, where you can play dragon games, read up on dragon history and lore, join a dragon sept or Guardians’ Guild, visit with Katie and others in the message forum, listen to behind-the-scenes podcasts, consult the Otherworld Encyclopedia, and much more.
Read on for a peek at what’s next for Gabriel and May. Up in Smoke Coming in October 2008!
‘‘Beautiful in is beautiful out—that’s what they taught us at Carrie Fay, and I absolutely believe it’s true. I mean, think about it—the sort of person you are doesn’t just stay inside you, now, does it?’’
Before I could sort through that odd bit of logic, a cold, wet blob smelling of earth and minerals was slathered across my mouth. ‘‘Mmmhmm,’’ I contented myself with answering.
‘‘I’ll wipe off your lips, but no talking, sugar. We can’t have you moving your mouth as the mask dries. Anyway, it’s absolutely true. Just look at you, for instance!’’
The petite, blond, perky woman in front of me, who had been applying an olive green clay mask to my face, stepped back to consider me. She had a small bowl in one hand, and her other hand was sheathed in a latex glove covered in the same gloop. She waved at me with the bowl. ‘‘You don’t look evil in the least, and yet here you are about to wed a demon lord!’’
‘‘Sally, I’m not marrying Magoth—’’ I started to say, but she cut me off with a frown.
‘‘No talking, sugar! I just told you that! Where were we? Oh, yes, how appearances can be deceiving.’’ Her frown deepened somewhat as she eyeballed me. I squirmed in the chair, never comfortable to be the center of anyone’s attention . . . with one notable exception.
My heart gave a little quiver as a familiar ache started within me at the vision that rose in my mind’s eye—a man laughing with utter delight, dimples set in his beautiful latte-colored skin, his eyes flashing like quicksilver. Just the thought of him had my heart speeding up even as I mourned the fact that I hadn’t seen Gabriel in more than a month.
‘‘You look like a normal woman. I have to say that the 1920s flapper hairstyle you seem to enjoy is a bit less than mainstream—but other than that, you look perfectly normal, kind almost, not at all like you were to become Mrs. Demon Lord.’’
‘‘I’m not marrying Magoth,’’ I said without moving my lips.
‘‘Oh, well, consort, marrying . . . it’s all the same thing, isn’t it? Just a smidgen more on your forehead, sugar. You need a lot of exfoliating there. Whatever have you been using on your face? No, don’t answer— let the mask dry. Here, do you want to see yourself?’’ Sally put down her things and peeled off the glove, admiring her handiwork for a moment before