Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [28]
I turned slowly and looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were still bright with an emotion I realized was part sexual interest and part jubilation. But there was something else in his expression, something unyielding that hinted of trouble to come. He was a dragon, a wyvern, a healer, yes, but also a man who was a leader, someone who would quite likely fight to the death to protect his sept. He would be focused, relentless in his pursuit of whatever stirred his interest, and also possessive, since that was reported to be a trait common to all dragons.
An oddly deflated feeling possessed me, a sadness that I couldn’t risk experiencing what it would be like to be cherished by such a man. Sooner or later, however, reality would catch up to me, and that would be the end of everything. As much of a temptation as Gabriel represented, it would be better for us all if I didn’t give in and see what a dragon had to offer.
‘‘No,’’ I said simply, with as much kindness as I could. ‘‘There is no phenomenon. There is nothing to explore, at least not between us. I will arrange to have Cyrene moved. We will not impose upon your kindness any longer.’’
I made it across the room, my foot on the stairs before the two bodyguards caught me, one on either arm.
‘‘You are the wyvern’s mate,’’ Maata said, her face set. ‘‘You cannot reject him.’’
‘‘Excuse me?’’ I asked, unable to believe what she said.
‘‘You are his mate. You can’t leave.’’
I looked at the other guard, Tipene, the one who had stepped on my arm. His face was just as impassive as Maata’s. ‘‘You are the mate,’’ was all he said, just as if that was the end of the discussion.
‘‘Even if a doppelganger could be a mate, and even if I was that doppelganger, it doesn’t matter. I can’t stay.’’
‘‘Let her go,’’ Gabriel ordered. As soon as they released my arms, I twisted around to face him. He stood a few feet beyond me, incredibly handsome in his evening clothes, his eyes drawing me in and making me want to lose myself in them. He was still, but a coiled sense of power seemed to surround him, as if he was a panther about to pounce.
‘‘I’m sorry,’’ I told him. ‘‘This is no reflection on you. You seem to be a very nice man . . . dragon . . . but unfortunately, even if I agreed that somehow, I was meant to be your mate, there are circumstances that prohibit me from taking that role. I hope you understand.’’
‘‘I understand,’’ he said after a few moment’s silence, his voice rubbing along my skin like velvet.
Before I could stop myself, I took a step forward toward him. ‘‘Thank you.’’
The rest of the world seemed to recede until only a small stretch of wool carpet bearing Gabriel and myself existed. His eyes searched mine, searing a silver path straight down to my soul. It was as if our souls touched for one blinding moment of glory.
Drake’s voice lashed across me with the violence of a whip crack, dragging me back into reality with a painful jerk. ‘‘There is still the matter of Mei Ling.’’
I backed away from Gabriel, not trusting myself to be near him. For a moment I wished . . . but that was folly. I needed to stop moping over wishes that would never be realized, and instead work on getting us out of the situation. The doorway loomed behind me. Oh, how I wanted to race through it, grab Cyrene, and escape this house. But I couldn’t, not yet. Slowly, I examined everyone in the room, silent and still as if they’d been frozen into place. I avoided looking at Gabriel’s bright eyes, looking instead at the man who’d spoken. ‘‘What about it?’’
‘‘You are the thief Mei Ling.’’ Drake frowned for a moment. ‘‘You don’t look Asian.’’
‘‘I’m not. Or rather, Cyrene isn’t, hence I am not.’’
‘‘Then why are you called Mei Ling?’’ he asked.
‘‘Mayling,’’ Aisling said suddenly,