Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [34]
I stifled the last little bubble of irritation, reminding myself that he was just doing his job.
He didn’t have to enjoy it quite so much, though, did he?
‘‘And now May,’’ Gabriel said. I looked at him a moment, wondering what sort of a man it was that fate had bound me to. I held out my hand, watching with dispassionate interest as he traced a symbol in flames on my wrist. It burned merrily on my skin, although I felt nothing more than a mild heat.
‘‘Dragon mates have the ability to share dragon fire. They can use it, mold it to their own desire, drawing power from it when needed,’’ he said, watching me as I coaxed the little flame to my fingertips. It shimmered there, as if it was about to go out. I held my other hand out over it, willing it into a small ball, smiling to myself when it obediently formed a sphere. I held it in the palm of my hand for a moment, admiring the beauty and power held within it, before throwing it directly at Gabriel.
A slow smile spread across his face as the flame ball exploded against his chest, bathing his upper body in fire for a few seconds before it evaporated into nothing. ‘‘I believe that answers your question, Cyrene.’’
‘‘It doesn’t even begin to cover the questions I have,’’ she said softly. I took a few steps away from Gabriel, startled by the undertone I had heard in Cyrene’s voice.
‘‘Well, as you said, what does it matter how it happened—it did, and it’s a miracle. I hope you both will be very happy,’’ Aisling said as she gave Gabriel a hug before turning to me to do the same.
I frowned. ‘‘I’m not sure I follow you. Happy doing what?’’
Her smile slipped slightly as she glanced quickly at Gabriel. ‘‘Er . . . happy being together.’’
It took me a few seconds to understand what it was she was talking about. ‘‘Oh, we’re not together. At least, not in the sense you mean.’’
‘‘You’re not?’’ she asked, looking downright confused.
‘‘No. I can’t. It’s just not possible,’’ I answered, turning to Gabriel. ‘‘I’m sorry if you assumed there would be some sort of a . . . for lack of a better word, romantic relationship between us.’’
His eyes turned to molten silver. ‘‘You have just accepted that you are my mate.’’
‘‘Yes, it seems foolish to deny it when all the evidence points to that conclusion. But that doesn’t mean we are . . . you know, a couple.’’
Drake looked at his wife. ‘‘You’ve infected her.’’
Aisling’s mouth dropped open a smidgen. ‘‘I have not!"
His green eyes narrowed upon me. ‘‘You have an American accent.’’
‘‘Yes,’’ I answered, wondering what that had to do with anything. ‘‘Cyrene was living in Louisiana when I was created. I moved to the West Coast shortly thereafter.’’ I didn’t mention the reason for my sudden move away from my twin—Magoth, fascinated with the early movie industry, had based himself in Hollywood, and bound to him as I was, I had little choice but to follow.
‘‘I miss New Orleans,’’ Cyrene said wistfully. ‘‘I’m living in London now, and of course, it’s very cultural, but there’s none of the je ne sais quoi of the U.S."
‘‘I knew it,’’ Drake said, nodding at Aisling. ‘‘It’s something in the water that makes American women the most stubborn beings on the planet. Try to deny it.’’
She smiled at me. ‘‘We’re not stubborn, sweetie— we’re smart. We simply want to know what we’re getting into before we agree to anything.’’
‘‘Well . . . there is that, yes,’’ I said slowly, unwilling to say too much. ‘‘But there are certain obligations I’ve got to consider, and I’m afraid that right now, I’m just not in a position to maintain anything but a distant relationship.’’
‘‘You are my mate,’’ Gabriel said with an obstinate glint to his eye.
‘‘Yes, I believe we’ve established that fact,’’ I said, glancing at my watch. ‘‘It’s very late. Since Cyrene appears to have recovered from the injury, we’d better be on our way.’’
‘‘You can’t leave!’’ Maata burst out, her disbelief evident.
‘‘I’m afraid I have some prior commitments that I must attend to.’’ I turned my attention to Gabriel. ‘‘We should probably stay in touch.