Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [65]
“I’m very sorry,” I said, uncomfortable with his placid expression. That was the face he used with others, not me. “You should have warned me that it had that much power. Cyrene said no one mortal was hurt, thank the gods, but still, I wish you had warned me what to expect.”
“I did warn you,” he said, his eyes still flat and hard. “I warned you to protect it.”
“No, I’m talking about after that, when you told me to use it—”
“Use it? You told her to use the phylactery?” Drake’s voice cut across my explanation.
“No.” Gabriel frowned slightly as he examined my face.
I frowned right back at him. “Yes, you did. When that man came into the shadow world, you yelled at me to use it.”
“Man? What man?” he asked.
“The dark-haired one who was pacing behind the gunmen.”
The three dragons exchanged glances.
The door opened behind me, Aisling returning from her trip to the bathroom.
“You’re not going to tell me you didn’t see him?” I asked them all.
“See who? What did I miss? Why do I smell smoke?”
She settled next to Drake, who spoke quietly in her ear, obviously explaining to her what had been happening while she was gone. She giggled as she looked at the still slightly smoking Kostya.
“Describe this man you saw,” Gabriel said.
“He was about your height, with long dark brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. He had dark eyes and a widow’s peak. Oh, and he was a dragon.”
Gabriel looked confused. “Are you certain? A dragon followed you into the Dreaming?”
“What’s a dreaming?” I heard Aisling ask Drake.
“It’s another term for the beyond,” he answered at the same time I nodded.
“Yes, quite certain. He even knew I was your mate. He said that, as a matter of fact, kind of like he couldn’t believe it. Then he saw the phylactery, and he named it, so when you said to use it in order to protect it from him—”
“I gave you no such order,” Gabriel said, his face unreadable.
“I heard you. You told me to use it.”
“I told you that under no circumstances should you use it,” he corrected, pity suddenly filling his eyes. I wanted to turn away, sick at the sight of it.
“I didn’t hear that. It was hard to hear anything,” I mumbled. “Then, I destroyed the phylactery for nothing. Which means I destroyed that dragon-heart shard inside it. I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I thought I was doing what you wanted me to do. I thought I was protecting it.”
He watched me for a moment, then pulled me into his arms. I melted against him, wanting to cry out my horror and sorrow, but I’ve never been the sort of person who gets relief from weeping, so I contented myself with simply drawing comfort from his embrace.
“Is there any way it can be repaired?” I asked his chest, my face being pressed firmly into it.
“The phylactery? No.”
I pulled back, sick at my own stupidity. How could I think Gabriel would want me to use something he gave into my safekeeping? “I don’t know what to say. I’m more sorry than I can possibly express that I inadvertently destroyed that precious bit of dragon history. I know the dragon-heart shard was irreplaceable—you told me that enough times—but I honestly thought you told me to use it when that dragon came after it. I would never have done so if I thought that using it would mean its complete annihilation. Agathos daimon! I wouldn’t blame you if you demated me for this.”
His expression was partly disbelief, partly something I had a hard time putting a name to.
“She doesn’t know?” Kostya asked, his voice sullen.
“It would appear not,” Drake answered, considering me.
“And no wonder; you guys never tell anyone anything unless we come right out and ask you,” Aisling said, punching Drake in the arm. “Tell her!”
“It’s her wyvern’s job,” he said, capturing her fist and kissing her fingers.
“Tell me what?” I asked, lifting my gaze to Gabriel’s.
“Mayling . . .” He hesitated for a second, an interesting parade of emotions passing over his face. “You didn’t annihilate the dragon-heart shard.