Playing With Fire (Silver Dragons #1)

Playing With Fire (Silver Dragons #1) Page 4

"Remember your promise," I reminded Cyrene in a low voice as we set the demon on a chaise longue.

"Which one? Oh! That one." She nodded and made a gesture over her lips. "Locked tight, Mayling."

"Good. I think we're about to have company." I straightened up and tried to adopt an innocent expression as two red-haired men burst out of the house, their body language (not to mention expressions) intimidating. I lifted my hands to show I was unarmed. "Good evening. I assume you are Pal and Istvan?"

"I am Pal," the taller of the two men said, stopping in front of me. He nodded to the stockier man, the one who watched us with hard, suspicious eyes. "He is Istvan. What are you doing here?"

I moved aside so the men could see the body of the demon lying on the chaise. The one named Istvan started and gave a little cry, immediately kneeling down next to the demon. Before I could tell him the demon's form wasn't destroyed, it was just unconscious, the other man jerked me forward, twisting me around so his beefy forearm crushed my windpipe.

"What did you do to Jim?" he growled in my ear.

"Nothing. It was the mage next door-"

"Stop it! Stop hurting her!" Cyrene cried, leaping onto Pal's back in an attempt to pull him off me.

He snarled something in another language, tightening his arm around my neck until large, wavering black spots began to eat at my vision. I struggled desperately for air, both hands clawing at his arm, but it was like he was made of steel.

Cyrene screamed as Istvan pulled her off Pal, flinging her halfway across the patio. She slammed into a glass and metal table, cracking her head on the edge with a horrible gut-wrenching sound, her body falling limp to the ground.

Adrenaline spiked my blood at the sight of my twin lying in a growing pool of her own blood. I twisted away from Pal, but Istvan caught me before I could reach Cyrene. Angling my head, I clamped my teeth over Istvan's arm, biting down and throwing myself backward at the same time. Istvan yelled, slamming his free hand down on my head as I slid out of his grip.

"What's going on out here?" a woman's voice asked. "Who's... good god! Is that Jim?"

I swung a metal chair at Pal as he leaped for me, Istvan lunging at the same time. There was a flash of black, and I was slammed up against the stone side of the house, the furious green eyes of a dragon burning straight through to my soul.

"What do you think you are doing?" the dragon asked in a more menacing tone than I'd ever heard from anyone who wasn't a demon lord. Over his shoulder I could see Istvan advancing toward Cyrene 's inert form. I didn't have time to explain what had happened to the demon-I knew that bastard would do something more to harm her. Without thinking, I wrapped my hands around the dragon's arms and swung both my legs up to kick him in the chest. He was knocked backward into a couple of chairs, falling with a crash of metal and glass. I raced toward Cyrene, screaming, "If you touch her again, I'll kill you!"

The woman spoke a couple of words, and I stopped, rooted to the ground by a binding ward just a few feet away from Cyrene. Istvan had reached her and was hauling her upward, her head lolling at an unnatural angle. I screamed again and shadowed, slipping out of the ward to leap onto Istvan.

I heard the woman gasp. "Good lord! Did she just disappear-"

Before I could reach Istvan, I was knocked off my feet onto the grass a good ten feet away. I shadowed again, trying to roll out from under my assailant, but the man pinned me down with a knee on my back, his grip on my shoulders pressing me into the grass.

"Stop fighting," he said in my ear. "You will only harm yourself and your friend if you continue this."

"If you hurt her again, I'll-"

"We will not hurt you or her unless you continue to fight. Drake! I have this one. I have promised her no injury will come to the other."

I snarled into the ground as the man named Drake spoke to his men, trying once again to slip out of the grip holding me.

"I will turn you over, but you must not attempt to escape. Drake is overly protective and will not hesitate in destroying you if you make a move toward his mate."

"I don't give a damn about anyone's mate," I said, spitting out blades of grass and a bit of dirt. "Just let me go to my twin. That gorilla broke her neck."

"I am a healer," the man said, removing his knee from my back. "I will see to any ills she has suffered."

I rolled away from him, but he was on me again before I could get up, lying across my chest in a manner that would have been intimate in any other situation.

Eyes of liquid silver bore down into mine, a look so intense it momentarily stripped all thoughts from my mind but one. "Quicksilver," I said without thinking, reaching to touch the glittering mercury eyes that glowed with some inner light.

A foot descended on my hand before I could touch him, painfully grinding it into the ground.

"Release her," the man on top of me growled, glaring at the person who had suddenly appeared next to me.

Reluctantly, the man standing on my arm stepped off. I made a fist and tried to punch his leg, but he stepped out of my way.

Oddly, that seemed to amuse my captor. He smiled, dimples marking his cheeks, mobile, sensitive lips revealing teeth that for some reason reminded me of a wolf.

"We will get up now," he said, his gaze never leaving mine. He had a faint accent I couldn't quite place-it was vaguely singsong, with occasional hints of an Australian twang. Wherever he came from, it left him with a beautifully lyrical voice, the sort of voice that could mesmerize... "You will not try to attack Drake's men or Aisling. Your twin will not be harmed. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, although I would like to point out that we did not attack them-they attacked us."

He said nothing, but moved off me, being careful to keep hold of my arms. Two other people stood around us, the man who had stomped on my arm, and a woman, both dark haired and gray eyed, and dressed identically in black. The woman held a wicked-looking knife, her eyes glittering angrily at me. I allowed the man to pull me to my feet, but wouldn't let him brush me off. "I must see my twin. She's injured. Badly."

He nodded, and with one hand holding tight to my arm, gestured toward the patio. The two others followed us. I tried to shrug him off and run to Cyrene, but he held firm.

"I will tend to her, do not fear," he said in that beautiful voice as I sank down next to the chaise where she'd been laid. The dragon with green eyes stood at her feet, his face hard and watchful, his arm around an obviously pregnant woman. His two goons stood on the other side, Istvan bleeding profusely from the arm. I smiled at that, but the smile withered away as my gaze dropped to my poor twin.

"Agathos daimon," I gasped, my hands shaking as I reached for her. Her face was deathly white, blood matting the thick, glossy black hair that she wore an inch or so longer than mine.

"Will you allow me?" the silver-eyed man asked.

I didn't want him to touch her, didn't want any of them to have anything more to do with her, but I didn't even know where to begin fixing whatever damage Istvan had done when he'd knocked her into the table.

"I am a healer," he said again, his voice caressing me.

I hesitated a moment, wanting nothing so much as to hide Cyrene from their prying eyes.

"You don't have to worry about Gabriel-he's very good," the pregnant woman said. She must be Aisling Grey, the demon lord who had wed a wyvern. I glanced at her, unsure of what I should do. I couldn't get Cyrene out of there without doing more damage to her, but to trust her to strangers...

"He did wonders for me when I was gutted with a sword," Aisling added.

I eyed the man kneeling next to me for a moment. Those beautiful mercurial eyes considered me with calm assurance.

"All right," I said slowly, scooting back a hair to let him have access to Cyrene. "But I'll be watching you."

A slight smile caused his cheek to indent in the beginnings of a dimple. "I would expect nothing else."

"What's going on?" A furry black head was inserted between the man and me. Jim the demon was back on its feet, a shocked look on its face as it peered down at the inert form before us. "What happened to Cyrene?"

"Jim! You're OK?" Aisling asked, hurrying over to it.

"Yeah. Uck, what happened to my coat? Oh, man! That's gonna take forever to grow out!"

"I'm so glad you're not hurt," Aisling said, hugging it. "I thought they'd destroyed your form."

"They?" Jim asked, looking from me to Cyrene before turning back to the woman still hugging him. "You don't think Cyrene and May did this to me, do you?"

"They didn't?" she asked, giving me an odd look.

I didn't pay her too much attention-that was taken up with watching the velvet-tongued healer as he worked over Cyrene.

"Nope."

"We saw them attacking Istvan and Pal," Drake said, nodding toward us. "The one kneeling bit Istvan."

"Hard," Istvan muttered, having taken off his shirt to wrap around the arm in question.

"Really?" Jim's eyebrows rose as it looked back at me. "Nice job, May! I couldn't have done better myself."

"Nice-Jim, are you insane?" Aisling asked, ruffling the fur on the top of its head.

"Naw. But you guys are confused. May and Cyrene weren't attacking anyone. May just wanted to get Cy out of the garden, but I told them about Drake being a gadget freak, so they decided to go out through Kostich's yard. That's where we were nailed... or rather, I was. Fires of Abaddon, his arcane traps are downright nasty! He owes me a whole bunch of fur."

"Will she be all right?" I asked the man who was evidently named Gabriel.

He nodded without looking at me, his eyes on Cyrene 's face as his fingers manipulated her neck. "She has a superficial cut to the scalp, but you were correct that her neck was broken."

My stomach lurched at his words. Cyrene might be immortal, but there was still such a thing as brain damage. If she didn't get sufficient oxygen and blood to her brain, she would be left in a coma... a permanent coma.

"It is a good thing she is a..." He glanced at me, his eyes questioning.

"Naiad," I answered.

"Ah. That would explain much. Elemental beings do not cope well with injuries to the head. Their center is in their heart, is it not?"

Cy certainly thought with her heart more than her head, but I wasn't about to admit that to the stranger... A thought struck me. I looked more closely at him. Like the other men present, he was dressed in evening clothes of a black jacket and pants, but unlike the others he had a gorgeous silvery vest heavily embroidered with fantastical creatures. His skin was a warm brown, like a very dark tan, but his high cheekbones and narrowed nose pointed to mixed ancestry. The shoulder-length dark brown dreadlocks hinted at some African blood, while the narrow mustache and goatee simply drew the eye to his mouth, which seemed to hold an unholy fascination for me. But there was something else, something exotic about him that I found it hard to pinpoint... "You're a dragon," I said suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle sliding together.

"I am," he said, nodding acknowledgment.

"Gabriel is not just a dragon," the nasty man who stepped on my arm said in a deep voice heavy with an Australian accent. "He is the dragon. The silver wyvern."

Wyverns, I knew, were leaders of dragon septs. Great. Now we had gotten ourselves tangled up with not one wyvern, but two. And a demon lord, a demon, and a couple of homicidal bodyguards.

My expression must have shown my feelings, for Gabriel shot me a little smile, saying, "You needn't look quite so wary. I won't bite. Unless you ask me to, of course."

I blinked at him in surprise.

"Did you just flirt with her?" Aisling asked, an interested light in her eyes as her gaze rested on me. "Would you mind... I hate to be rude... er... May, is it?"

I nodded.

"This is always so awkward, but there's really no way around it. What exactly are you? I've never seen anyone who can get out of my binding wards, but you just-poof! Disappeared. Then suddenly you were a few feet away."

"Oh, geez, Ash," Jim said, covering its eyes with one paw. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?"

"What?" she asked, turning to her wyvern. "Stop looking like you all know what May is! You do, don't you? Admit it-you all know, except me! I hate that!"

"You've seen her type before, Ash," Jim said, pushing itself forward to look at Cyrene. I shoved it back, not wanting anything else to disturb Gabriel.

"I have? Where? No, wait, let me think..." She sat when Drake gently moved her toward a chair, her face scrunched up as she thought. "Immortal, definitely. But not a naiad, like the woman on the chaise- she's got a definite glimmer to her that May doesn't have. Hmm. She's not bound by wards, and can do that disappearing thing..."

"It's called shadow walking," I said, unable to stand any more of her scrutiny. "It is a trait common to doppelgangers."

"Doppelganger!" Aisling said, her eyes wide in surprise. "Wow. I thought you guys were really rare."

"We are," I said, turning back to Cyrene.

"But... shadow walking? I've never heard of that. What exactly... er..."

I stifled a sigh, not really irritated with the woman so much as I was with the whole situation. I hated having to explain my origins. "Doppelgangers are created from their twin. We are identical in every way, but individual beings, and wholly separate from our twins. Because we are literally created from the twin's shadow, we can slip into that form and move amongst people without being seen-except in brightly lit places. We cast no shadow ourselves, and have no reflection. Here endeth the lesson. Is my twin going to live or will she be in a coma?" I asked the question of Gabriel as he sat back on his heels, his eyes intent on Cyrene 's face.

Cyrene 's chest rose in a deep breath as her eyelids fluttered, a long exhalation of her breath bringing joy to my heart. Her eyes opened, puzzlement evident as she looked first at Gabriel, then at me. "Mayling?" she asked, her voice reedy.

I grasped her hands and squeezed her fingers, relief swamping me as I smiled down at her. "I'm here."

"Mei Ling?" Drake asked, and I froze, my fingers tightening around Cyrene 's until she made a noise of protest. "Mei Ling the cat burglar?"

"Mei Ling?" Gabriel said as well, his warm voice filled with speculation as he considered me with those lovely quicksilver eyes. A smile spread slowly, his dimples becoming evident as amusement filled his eyes. "How propitious."

I released Cyrene 's hands, edging away from him. I wanted to bolt, to get us out of there, but Cyrene wasn't in any condition to move yet. "How so?"

His dimples deepened. "You're just the woman I've been looking for."