Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [51]
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ I asked immediately.
‘‘Have you seen Maata or Tipene?’’
I looked around, trying to find the two rather large bodyguards in the mass of people still milling around outside the hotel, but it was difficult to see over everyone. ‘‘No. Didn’t they go back to wherever you are staying?’’
He shook his head, frowning. ‘‘They took rooms here, in order to keep a watch on you.’’
‘‘Me?’’ Anger rose quick and hot, aided by a deep feeling of pain that he didn’t trust me. ‘‘You thought I was going to steal something of yours and run off?’’
‘‘You’ve already stolen something of mine, but that’s not the point.’’
He scanned the crowd, his eyes worried. I grabbed his arm, glaring up at him. ‘‘How dare you. I have not stolen anything from you. I’m not a real thief, which I thought you would have understood after I explained about my relationship to Magoth.’’
‘‘Mayling—’’
‘‘How could you possibly do the things we just did and then tell me you think I’m a low-life, common, ordinary thief—’’
He stopped my tirade by the effective method of yanking me up to his chest and kissing me with a passion that stripped the breath from my lungs.
‘‘My heart, little bird—you stole my heart.’’
I closed my mouth on the protest I was about to make, a lovely warm feeling glowing in my belly.
‘‘I would be offended that you could imagine I’d have such a low estimation of my mate,’’ he continued, ‘‘but I do not have time for that now. If Maata and Tipene are not here, they must have perceived a threat to you and followed it up. Which can only mean one thing.’’
‘‘What?’’ I asked, startled by the strength of a sudden need to fling myself upon him and kiss away his worried frown.
He said the name as if it was an oath. ‘‘Kostya.’’
‘‘Who’s Kostya?’’ Cyrene asked, yawning as she wandered over to us. ‘‘When can we go back into our rooms? I must have my morning bath, or I’m just not fit for the day.’’
‘‘He’s a black dragon who doesn’t want Gabriel to be wyvern of his sept,’’ I said absently. Something didn’t make sense. ‘‘Why Kostya?’’ I asked Gabriel. ‘‘Or rather, how Kostya?’’
‘‘How?’’ He shot me a confused look.
‘‘Yes, how. You said that your bodyguards were protecting me, but why would they need to when no one knows about me? I mean, we just met each other’’—I glanced at my watch—‘‘less than twelve hours ago. How would Kostya know who I am, let alone the fact that I am now your mate?’’
‘‘She has a point,’’ Cyrene said.
‘‘He is Drake’s brother,’’ Gabriel reminded me.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘‘I thought Drake and Aisling were your friends. They certainly seemed friendly enough. Would he rat you out to his brother like that?’’
He looked uncomfortable for a few moments. ‘‘Our relationship has been a bit . . . strained . . . of late. There were recent regrettable incidents for which, unfortunately, my part was seen only in a suspicious light.’’
‘‘Regrettable incidents?’’ I asked, watching him closely. ‘‘What sort of regrettable incidents?’’
He took my hand and started down the sidewalk. I grabbed Cyrene’s arm and pulled her after us.
Gabriel’s gaze darted here and there as he searched for his two missing bodyguards. ‘‘It is an involved story.’’
‘‘Uh-huh. Why do I have the feeling that it involves Aisling more than Drake?’’
He flashed me a quick grin. ‘‘Are you jealous?’’
‘‘Oh, yes.’’
He stopped for a moment, surprise chasing delight on his face. ‘‘You are?’’
‘‘She’s pretty, powerful, and a wyvern’s mate. Plus Drake said something about you interfering with her, which makes me think that she made a play for you.’’
He laughed, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘‘I am flattered that you think so, but the truth is much less prone to inflaming your jealousy. Aisling has always been in love with Drake.’’
‘‘Then what was the regrettable incident?’’
‘‘Will you be all right if I leave you here for a few minutes?’’ he asked, parking us next to a small clutch of policemen.
I made a little face. ‘‘I’ve managed to exist for more than eighty years on my own, and Cy is over twelve hundred years old, so yes, I think we’ll