Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [37]
‘‘You do not need to fear for my safety,’’ Gabriel replied with no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice. ‘‘Dragons are notoriously difficult to destroy, and I have no qualms acting as a go-between for you and Mei Ling.’’
The thief taker snorted.
‘‘I must admit that I, too, am curious about why you are willing to do such a thing,’’ Kostich said smoothly.
Gabriel turned his head just enough so I could see the dimple in one of his cheeks. ‘‘You have offered a generous reward. I’m sure your thief takers are’’—his pause emphasized the stress he laid on the next word—‘‘adequate, but you should not underestimate the interests dragons have in rewards of the nature you are offering.’’
My fingers tightened around the smooth stone of the casement as anger flared at the thought of him turning me over to Kostich in order to receive the benefaction. Was this, then, how he chose to achieve his goal of acquiring the dragon phylactery? Was he willing to betray me in order to gain it? I felt sick to my stomach at the thought, enough so that even my brain, when it pointed out that it wasn’t terribly likely a wyvern would so endanger his mate, had a hard time discounting the idea.
‘‘Adequate?’’ Amusement was rife in the thief taker’s voice. The shadow that had blocked light from the window shifted, and I risked a quick peek to see that the man had moved off to the side, away from me.
Sickened by what I was overhearing, I slipped past the two windows, moving beyond the room. Everyone had settled down to sleep; even the night birds were muted as I crept down the ledge to a darkened window. Wards had been etched into the glass, but they were the wrong type of ward to keep me out. That gave my spirits a short-lived boost—evidently no one had seen me long enough to guess my origins, which made it all that much easier for me to simply ignore the arcane magical traps Dr. Kostich had laid around the window.
The study was dark except for a dim light set high in the case I’d broken into earlier. I kept myself shadowed as I moved carefully around the furniture, which I could dimly make out, heading for the corner where I remembered seeing the surveillance camera. I stopped underneath it, listening intently.
From the room next to me, I could hear the low rumble of masculine voices. Damn that Gabriel, he was probably telling Dr. Kostich just what he wanted for his benefaction. I thinned my lips and thought of what I’d like to say to him at that moment, reluctantly setting that aside to deal with the problem before me. From the inner pocket of the bodice, I pulled out a small, flattened disk of silver-backed utility tape, using it to cover the camera’s lens before heading for the case. I also withdrew the quintessence, my fingers caressing the invisible edges of its case, a strange yearning suddenly possessing me. I wanted to feel its glory again, to revel in its beauty, to absorb all that it had to give me. Why should I give it back to Dr. Kostich when the man clearly didn’t know its true value?
I’m ashamed to say that for five seconds, I considered the possibility of keeping the quintessence for myself. It was tempting . . . but I sighed as I carefully opened the case, placing the unseen box onto the shelf where I had originally found it.
‘‘I may be a thief,’’ I said softly as I closed the case, watching with mild amusement as the arcane symbols of protection drawn across the front resealed themselves as if they’d never been disturbed. ‘‘But I don’t have to be a dishonest thief.’’
Righteousness filling my heart, I turned to leave, but was unable to move.
‘‘What the . . .’’ My feet appeared to be rooted to the ground, stuck to the rug as if by some industrial-strength glue. I peered down at my feet, horror crawling up my arms as I realized there was a pattern woven into the rug upon which I stood . . . a pattern that was not arcana based,