Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [33]
“This is Eniiyi and Nkese,” Gabriel introduced the women. “They are from Nigeria. Eniiyi is a close friend of my mother’s.”
The older woman studied me for a moment, a curious look in her eyes; then without warning she enveloped me in a hug that threatened to squeeze the breath right out of me. “Kaawa will be pleased with this one,” she said as she released me.
I assumed Kaawa was Gabriel’s mother, wondering about the “this one” comment—had Gabriel brought other women home for parental approval?
Gabriel said nothing, just nodded and introduced me to the male dragon. “Cibo is from Botswana. He had business in England and stopped in Paris for the sárkány.”
“I cannot express just how pleased we all are to know that a mate has been found for Gabriel,” Cibo said in a clipped English accent. He didn’t hug me, but he did take one of my hands in both of his as he spoke. “Not only is he worthy of such an honor, it brings hope to those of us who have yearned for mates of our own.”
“Thank you. I will do my best to live up to the job.”
He released my hand, bowed to Gabriel, and returned to his seat. We continued down the aisle toward the long conference table, but before we got to it I asked Gabriel in a low whisper, “Is that all the silver dragons who are here?”
“Yes. We did not know until yesterday when you would be released, so there has not been time for other members of the sept to travel to Paris. Most of them live outside of Europe. Eniiyi and Nkese were here awaiting your arrival. My mother wished to be here to greet you, but her work kept her from coming. We will make a trip to Australia to see her soon.”
I glanced around, trying to estimate the number of people present. “There have to be at least two hundred people here. Are you saying all these dragons live in Paris?”
“No. Most are blue dragons, who live all over Europe. That group over there are green dragons, summoned by Drake. The ones at the back of the room are red dragons.”
“But our sept is really underrepresented,” I said, worrying about the imbalance of at least fifty percent more blue dragons to the other three septs. “Is that going to affect anything? And how did they all get here so quickly?”
“The numbers of members mean nothing in this situation; only a wyvern and his or her mate can speak at a sárkány. The other members are here just to see history being made. They assembled quickly once word was received about your release.”
“History? What sort of history?”
The doors at the back were flung open with a reverberation that echoed down the long room. We all turned to look. Kostya stood for a moment in a dramatic pose as he eyed everyone; then he strode down the aisle toward us, flanked by five men who I assumed were also black dragons. I touched the chain around my neck to make sure the phylactery was there, hidden away, relieved for a few seconds that Kostya was not accompanied by a blue-eyed brunette who just happened to have created me.
That relief was short-lived, as Cyrene bounded through the door next.
“I have come!” Kostya yelled in a dramatic manner, tossing his head so the sweep of dark auburn hair that had come down over his forehead was flipped back.
“Hello, everyone! Mayling! Isn’t this exciting?” Cyrene called, ruining Kostya’s big moment.
He glared at her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Go right ahead, punkanoodle. I know you want to make a good impression on everyone.”
Even the sigh that Kostya heaved was filled with drama. “I told you not to call me that! It’s not fitting.”
“Sorry,” Cyrene said, looking remorseful. “Forgot. Go ahead, Kostie.”
Even at the distance we were from the door, I could see Kostya cast a glance upward as he obviously sought patience. Gabriel made an odd snorting noise, as if he was trying to hold back laughter. Normally I would have had a hard time keeping my own face straight, but I was