Playing with Fire

‘‘Nor would I be so foolish. If you were to take a step five inches to the right, you would find yourself held tight in a binding earth element.’’

‘‘Clever,’’ the thief taker murmured. ‘‘Very clever.’’

‘‘Earth element? You are an alchemist, then?’’ Gabriel asked, shifting his weight slightly, I assumed to block me a little better.

‘‘I am interested in it, yes.’’

‘‘Ah. And can I assume that the item which was taken from you was of an alchemical nature?’’

Kostich’s voice left no doubt that he was irritated. ‘‘A Liquor of Hepatis was stolen from me, as well as another element.’’

My foot was almost free. I twisted it with a strength that made my muscles cry out, dropping to my knees as Gabriel suddenly leaned toward the case to peer into it.

‘‘I could have sworn I’d seen something… but now it’s gone. Must have been a trick of the light.’’

I peered around Gabriel’s hip. All I could see was Dr. Kostich frowning at him for a moment before the latter ran over to the case, his hands gesturing quickly as he undid the binding element. I almost fell over at the sudden release of my foot.

‘‘What… it’s here! The quintessence is here!’’

Dr. Kostich’s hands came into view from where I crouched. He cradled an object invisible to all sight but that of the most peripheral nature. He flipped open the lid for a moment, filling the room with that brilliant warm glow. ‘‘But how… I was sure it was gone. No, it was gone, stolen. I know it was.’’

‘‘What is it?’’ Gabriel asked as Kostich closed the lid again.

‘‘Quintessence,’’ Dr. Kostich answered in a distracted way as he frowned at the case. ‘‘It is that which is invaluable. I don’t see how I could have overlooked it…’’

‘‘Very confusing, indeed,’’ the thief taker said.

I ground my teeth at the smugness in the man’s voice. I still hadn’t gotten a look at him, but I didn’t dare try to get an unobstructed view of him lest he see me, as well.

‘‘Perhaps in the confusion over the theft of the other object, it escaped notice,’’ Gabriel said.

‘‘No. I would not have done that. It was not on the shelf.’’

‘‘But it is now,’’ Gabriel pointed out in his smooth, silky voice. ‘‘And since you now possess it, perhaps you would reconsider your actions with regard to Mei Ling?’’

‘‘I know I searched the case… hmm? Oh. No,’’ Dr. Kostich said slowly as he replaced the quintessence, redrawing the binding element on the ground. I had moved a couple of steps away, keeping Gabriel between me and the two men, praying that the former and the dim light would continue to keep me hidden. ‘‘She must be caught. She has robbed too many people in the L’au-delà."

Gabriel clearly wasn’t happy with that, but I realized there was little he could say without attracting too much attention from both men.

‘‘And now I must insist that you be on your way,’’ the mage said just as I was trying to get a peek at the two men. I ducked down behind Gabriel’s broad shoulders, holding my breath. ‘‘I have a great many things to do before the sun rises.’’

Gabriel smiled and gestured toward the door. ‘‘After you.’’

Dr. Kostich hesitated, but moved toward the door.

The thief taker evidently still stood in front of the cabinet, but he, too, left after a moment’s pregnant silence. Gabriel followed. As they went through the door, he paused long enough to turn off the light, shooting me an unreadable look as he did so. ‘‘I am sure you will be able to rest knowing that your precious things are safe from any further theft.’’

I made a face at such an obvious warning, waiting until he turned off the light and closed the door before hurrying toward the window.

There was no denying that Gabriel had saved my butt from a very unpleasant situation. But everyone knew that dragons never did anything without expecting to be compensated. Just what was Gabriel going to demand as payment?

That thought worried me all the way back to my hotel.

Cyrene was nearly asleep when I tapped on her door.

‘‘You all right?’’ I asked when she opened it.

‘‘Yes.’’ Her shoulders slumped as she crawled back into bed, leaving me standing awkwardly.

Everything about her twanged at my conscience, from her dejected, downturned mouth to the way she wouldn’t meet my eye.

‘‘How does your neck feel?’’ I asked.

She gave a little twitch of her shoulder as she pulled the blankets up. ‘‘Fine. It doesn’t hurt.’’

‘‘You don’t look happy,’’ I said, miserable.

‘‘I’m not.’’ Her eyes lifted to meet mine for a moment, hurt mingling with accusation in them. ‘‘You lied to me.’’

‘‘Yes, I did. And I’m sorry, but…’’ I let my hands fall and walked over to the window, twitching the curtains aside to look out on the sleepy town. The sun would be up in a few hours, heralding the dawn of yet another day. ‘‘It just seemed so much easier that way. Do you remember in the 1960s, when you kept bringing men to my house and urging me to jump into bed with them?’’

‘‘Everyone was doing it then,’’ she said, her mouth tight. ‘‘I just wanted you to be happy. You seemed so lonely then. You still do.’’

‘‘I appreciate the thought now as I did then, but rampant sex with anything bearing the appropriate equipment and a libido to match has never been-and alas, never will be-my idea of a path to happiness.’’

‘‘But why didn’t you just tell me that?’’ she implored, slapping her hand down on the bed. ‘‘You should have just told me that you didn’t want me to try to set you up with someone. When I think of all the trouble I went to finding men for you… and later women… I could just cry, Mayling, I really could.’’

‘‘Cy!’’ I said, spinning around. ‘‘I did tell you. Repeatedly. But every time I brought up the subject, you started screaming and ran away.’’

She blinked at me in stupefied disbelief. ‘‘I did? Mayling, I’ve never once screamed and ran away when you talked to me about men, or the lack of them, in your life.’’

‘‘No, not men, man. As in one man. The one man who is the reason why I can’t have casual relationships with anyone, man or woman, not that my tastes are anything but traditional in that line.’’

I knew the moment she understood what I was talking about. Her face turned cold and hard, her eyelids drooped down, shadowing her eyes as she turned her head from me. ‘‘I don’t want to talk about it.’’

I was silent for a few moments, sharing in her pain. ‘‘It doesn’t matter,’’ I said finally, moving toward the door.

‘‘Mayling, wait…’’

I turned. Her eyes were bright with tears now, her face flushed.

‘‘It does matter. And you’re right, I have avoided… that subject… but what happened to me has nothing to do with you.’’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘‘I’m here. I think it has something to do with me.’’

‘‘No,’’ she said sharply, her color deepening as she bit her lower lip. ‘‘You’re right, you always are, and I see now that I’m partially responsible for you feeling you couldn’t be open with me. But that’s all over. We can talk about it.’’

I raised my hand and let it fall with a sense of futility. ‘‘I don’t see that any good will come of talking about what’s past. What’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do to change it.’’

‘‘But, Mayling, you don’t see,’’ she said, scooting out of the bed, taking my hand and giving it a little squeeze. ‘‘Just because I was… I had… because Magoth…’’