Monish's eyes dropped to my fingers, fiddling with the amulet's chain. "I am not convinced that it does, but perhaps the owner would allow you to keep it for another day or two."

"I'll ask. He seemed pretty laid-back." I stood and collected my purse. "I have to go for a bit, but I hope you and your men will keep an eye peeled for Nora. Drake promised to leave one of his bodyguards behind until she wakes up, but I'd feel better knowing someone was watching out for her."

He nodded and stood as well, offering me his hand to shake. "It will be done."

"Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can to try to figure out what's going on."

To my great surprise, a familiar figure was lounging around the lobby as I passed through it on the way to wait for Rene.

"Hi, Gabriel. Seems like forever since I last had a chance to talk to you." I waved at Maata and Tipene, who were sitting in the coffee lounge. They nodded at me.

"Aisling, I had hoped I would see you. Do you have the time to talk with me?" He gestured toward a chair. I glanced out through the big glass doors and didn't see Rene's taxi anywhere on the hotel drive.

"Never could resist a man with dimples," I said lightly, seating myself across from him. "Where have you been? I haven't seen any dragons around the hotel the last two days other than Drake's men."

"The negotiations have been delayed for a few days while tempers cool. I have been in Germany, seeking enlightenment- I understand Fiat flew home to Paris, but he is expected back. Chuan Ren has remained in residence."

"Hmm, I haven't seen her, but I've been kind of busy. I'm sorry to hear that the negotiations aren't going too well. I'd hate to think it was because of me that things are stalemated."

"You?" Gabriel asked, crossing one elegant leg over the other, his dimples blaring away like mad. I couldn't help but smile in return, despite being fully aware that he was purposely turning on the charm. "Why do you think you are the cause of the problems in the weyr?"

"That depends—what's a weyr?"

A wicked sparkle danced in his silver eyes. "It means a gathering of dragons."

"Ah. In that case, the answer to your question can be summed up in a couple of words: Chuan Ren."

I expected him to laugh, or smile, or at the very least shake his head and reassure me that nothing so absurd was happening, but instead his dimples disappeared as he considered what I said.

"Er... aren't you going to tell me that I'm imagining things?" I finally asked, squirming in my seat. "Or over exaggarating my importance to the summit?"

"You are important to the summit," he said, his brows pulling down slightly. "And I would tell you what you want to hear if it was true, but I do not think you would appreciate a mate who lies to you."

"I don't, and he doesn't," I answered, wondering what Gabriel was up to. "As for being so important—I'm just a wyvern's mate. I don't see how that could make or break the negotiations. I know Chuan Ren doesn't like me, but surely that's not going to hold things up?"

He avoided my question to ask one of his own (a dragon trait, I'd found). "Drake has told you of the role a mate plays in weyr politics?"

"Yes," I answered, uncomfortable with the feeling that perhaps Drake hadn't told me everything.

Gabriel's hands rested on his leg, his long fingers toying with the dark fabric of his pants. At my words his hand twitched slightly. "Then you have the answer to your question."

Why is it that even when dragons answered a question, it was as cryptic as possible? "You don't have a mate," I pointed out. "Neither does Fiat. Yet that doesn't seem to be harming your ability to negotiate."

"A mate is a rare find," he answered smoothly, his voice rich and warm and alive with unspoken laughter. "Most wyverns are content to wait until they find theirs."

"Most?" I couldn't help but ask. "But not all?"

He leaned forward, his fingers brushing my knee. "Some of us prefer to have some say in our lives. Some of us refuse to allow fate to dictate its terms, and we make our own path."

I watched him for a few seconds, unsure if he was really saying what I thought he was saying. "I don't play mind games with people, Gabriel," I said finally. "I prefer people say what they mean and don't hide behind a bunch of hyperbole. Are you hinting that you intend to challenge Drake for me? Because if you are, I'm telling you right here and now that there's no way you can lure me away from him. I like you, I think you're nice, but at the risk of sounding conceited I would like to point out that you are not my mate—Drake is."

He stood up. A brief smile flickered across his lips, his eyes alight with secret amusement, "For now, perhaps. But who can say what the future holds?"

He left while I was still trying to formulate a smart answer. I spent a few moments going back over what he'd said, looking for an instance when he had come right out and told me he was going to try to steal me from Drake, but I couldn't come up with a single one. Had I read something into his manner that wasn't intended?

"Just one more mystery for me to solve," I groaned to myself as I gathered up my things and exited the lobby.

Tiffany was waiting near a bench outside. "Good morning, Aisling. Is this not a beautiful day? The sun is shining golden showers of happiness and joy down upon the happy faces of all the little flowers."

"Uh . . . very poetic."

She slipped her arm through mine as we waited for Rene, who was just turning onto the hotel property. "You look terrible. There is darkness beneath your eyes, and your skin looks unhealthy, and your hair is as a concubine's."

There's just nothing like a perky virgin to make you feel ancient and unlovely. Not to mention trampish. "I beg your pardon?"

She made a spiky gesture with her free hand. "Sticking out in points."

"Oh. Porcupine. Yeah. Well, it's been a long night."

"Ah," she said, nodding her head sagely. "Yes, the attack on the Guardian Nora. I heard of this. It is said you are summoning the bad spirits to attack the Guardians who reject you."

"What?" I shrieked, pulling away from her. "People are saying that?"