Up In Smoke (21 page)

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Authors: Katie MacAlister

BOOK: Up In Smoke
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“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. You simply changed its form.”
“It's not gone?” Relief filled me as he shook his head. “Oh, thank the twelve gods and all their little acolytes. Where is it? Did the phylactery get melted into a gold blob? Can we have it reforged, or whatever it is you do to make the phylactery, so we can put the shard back into it?”
“Tell her!” Aisling said.
“Yes, please do,” Cyrene said. “The suspense is killing me!”
I looked at Gabriel and waited.
He took my hands, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. “The phylactery was merely a vessel, May. The dragon-heart shards cannot be destroyed, not by means within your abilities.”
“I'm delighted and relieved to hear that,” I said, confused by the looks I was getting from everyone. “So what's the big secret that everyone but me knows?”
“The shard must have a vessel. It cannot exist on its own—it must either be a part of the whole, which would provide a weapon of infinite power, and thus cannot be allowed, or it must be safeguarded in a vessel. That is law.”
“So you have it tucked away in another amulet, but you don't want me to guard it?” I asked, taking a stab in the dark. “I don't blame you at all for that. I have certainly proven unworthy of the responsibility of guarding it.”
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken comments.
“No, little bird. We did not need to make another phylactery.” Gabriel's thumb swept over my fingers in a featherlight touch. “We did not need to because when the phylactery was destroyed, the shard found a vessel of its own.”
A chill skittered up my spine.
His eyes bore down into mine, piercing my soul, silver brilliance that filled me with light. “You are the vessel, mate. The fifth shard of the dragon heart chose you to safeguard it.
You
are the phylactery now.”
Chapter Eleven

I
can't believe I've become the dragon heart.” I don't often wail, but I admit that at that exact moment, I found the idea seriously attractive.
“You haven't. You're simply the vessel that holds one-fifth of the heart.”
“You say that like that's an everyday occurrence, as if it was something unimportant, and yet, here we are—ow—bouncing our way across a dry riverbed in order to consult the most learned source of dragon lore you could think of, in hopes of fixing the situation.” I bit my tongue as the jeep jounced over yet another huge bump in the track, sucking it briefly while I squinted through the dusty window. “Are those wild horses?”
Gabriel glanced at the small herd of horses that raced across the scrubby landscape, moving effortlessly through the beige spinifex grass, their elongated shadows rippling across earth as red as the sun that was sinking below the horizon. There wasn't a lot to see in this area, mostly tall grass, small dry-looking shrubs, and acacia trees, but I found it oddly appealing.
“Brumbies,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“Wild horses here are called brumbies.”
“Ah.”
“I intended to bring you here eventually,” he said, jerking the wheel to avoid hitting a small brown animal. “Bilby.”
“Bilby to you, too,” I said brightly, feeling out of my depth.
Gabriel laughed and turned on the Land Rover's lights. “That was a bilby, little bird. They're endangered, and nocturnal by nature, so it's rare to see one out in the open like this. They're part of the reason why we're out here.”
“Out in the boonies?” I peered through the grime-specked window, watching the collection of small buildings fade into the distance. The sky glowed reddish orange as the sun slipped downward, casting a lovely amber glow over everything. “There don't seem to be a lot of people around. Is it because it's so arid?”
“Partially. Lajamanu is a relatively new settlement. The white powers that be relocated the Warlpiri people here, my mother's family included. There was some trouble, but eventually the people settled. It may not seem like a thriving community, but they're holding their own.”
“I see.” We'd flown into a tiny airport on a plane that appeared to be held together by nothing but duct tape and hope. The town itself was very small, but I didn't have time to do much but admire a local artist who was painting a vibrant canvas before Gabriel sent Maata and Tipene off in one direction, the two of us taking charge of a beat-up old Land Rover that had clearly seen better years.
“The Wulaign rangers in this area stay out in the bush and monitor wildlife, including those that are endangered or threatened.” We jounced over a couple of deep ruts and chugged our way up the side of the dried riverbed, avoiding a mammoth spiky rock formation as we headed for an area rich with trees. One last ray from the dying sun burst with glorious color at a spot between the trees. “That's the river up there. We'll likely have to spend the night.” He slid me a curious glance. “I never asked whether you liked roughing it. I suppose now would be a good time, eh?”
“Cyrene wouldn't be caught dead camping, not for the largest lake in the world, but I have nothing against nature.” A large cicada flew in through the window and smacked me on the face. Startled, I instantly shadowed and batted frantically at my face. It buzzed upward, into my hair. I shrieked and tried to cram my upper half out of the window in an attempt to dislodge the beastly thing.
Gabriel drove with one hand while plucking the large bug off the top of my head. He held it in front of me, one eyebrow raised as I deshadowed.
“All right, perhaps I would have never made it as a Girl Scout, but you can't judge me by my reaction to being assaulted by a large, hairy bug. I like animals. On the whole. And they like me. I just don't like them flying into my face intent on making me look bad in front of you.”
The cicada made an odd little chirping sound, just as if it was agreeing with me. Gabriel laughed and tossed it out of the window. “You're not nervous, are you?”
“Oh, goodness, no. What do I have to be nervous about?” I looked out of the window again. Dusk was falling quickly, the horizon still streaked with orange and red, but above it, deeper colors were starting to claim the sky, indigo and navy and a velvety blackness that felt to me just like a warm blanket of safety. “The man to whom I have sworn my eternal devotion has just informed me that I now hold one of five priceless dragon artifacts, which means I'm fair game to every unattached wyvern who would like to get his—or her—hands on it. My temporarily absent employer is doing who-knows-what out in the mortal world. My twin is tangled up in all sorts of messes that evidently only I can unravel, and, oh, yes, I'm going to meet the mother of the aforementioned mate, a woman so knowledgeable about dragon lore that she attracts visitors from the world over. Nervous? Don't make me laugh.”
There was a definite grim note in my voice that I regretted but was unable to eliminate. Gabriel cast another sidelong glance toward me, his eyes bright even in the dimming light.
Suddenly the most overwhelming emotion filled me. I looked at him and saw not just an incredibly handsome man, but
my
man, my mate, silver eyed, velvet throated, and as sexy as hell. He was mine, and I was filled with the most incredible cocktail of need, lust, desire, want—it all swirled around in a blaze within me, building until I thought my skin would burst into flame.
“Stop the car,” I said in a low voice that I barely recognized as mine. “Stop now.”
He shot me a startled look as I lunged for him. Luckily, he got the car stopped before I got my hand down the side of the seat, finding the lever that moved the seat back. “Mayling? What—”
I jerked the lever upward. The seat back crashed downward, Gabriel falling with it. I was over him in a flash, writhing with the sensation of his body between my legs. “So hot,” I murmured, ripping off the thin cotton shirt I wore. “Your fire burns me, Gabriel. It makes me want to do things to you. Wicked things. With my tongue.”
“I can see that,” he said, his gaze molten, but not nearly as hot as the fire that raged within me. “I have no objection to putting out your fire, little bird, but I'm not sure this is the best place for such an act.”
“Too much talking,” I said, leaning down over him and licking his lips with fire. “Too many clothes, as well.”
“Definitely too many clothes,” he agreed as I rose off him, doing an intricate dance to extricate myself from the khaki pants I'd donned just a few hours before, when we'd landed in Australia.
The fire and need continued to build within me as I struggled to contort myself in a way that would allow me to remove my clothing. It was impossible to do so while remaining in a position that straddled him, a fact that made me whimper in frustration, until I simply started shredding my clothing off my body.
Gabriel's eyes widened at the sight. I followed his gaze to my hands, which had changed shape somehow, covered in the same iridescent silver scales that I'd seen on him, my fingertips now bloodred claws.
A fresh wave of desire swept over me. I shivered, but not with cold. I tore the last of my clothing off and looked upward, panting as if I'd been running a race. “I need you, Gabriel. Right now. Sooner.”
He burst into flames as I yanked the shirt off of his marvelous chest, dipping my head to lick one pert little brown nipple. The taste of him almost pushed me over the edge into an orgasm, driving the strange, overwhelming need even higher.
“Please,” I said on a half whisper, my mouth finding his. I poured the fire that roared within me into him, taking back his own in return. He didn't answer me with words, simply managed to free himself from his pants, his hands urging me onward. The skin of my belly rubbed against his, my breasts, aching and heavy, brushing against the soft hair of his chest. The touch of his flesh against mine caused the most incredible sensations to roil around inside me. I stared down at him in surprise, unable to sort out what was happening to me. “It's as if I'm one big erogenous zone,” I murmured, closing my eyes in bliss as I rubbed against his chest again, my back arching as flames burst up around us.

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