“He’s in pretty bad shape now,” I grunted, shoving Jim through the ward. “If I can weaken the ward a little by sending more people through it, it might be easier on him.”

“Do it now,” Drake ordered. “At all costs, Kostya must be freed.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t going to be pleasant,” I told the man as I put both hands on his back. I swung open my mental door and gathered together as much power as I could rally from the stone walls and floors, trying to shield the frail dragon as I shoved him through the ward.

He collapsed on the other side, but István was ready for him. Drake and Pál went through with just as much difficulty, both of them pale with the strain as I forced my way through the ward.

“That way,” I said, pointing a shaky hand to the left to indicate the way I’d initially come. “Jim, show them—oh, hell.”

“Abaddon,” it said, leaping on the dragon that rounded the corner. It was the man I’d bound and silenced, his yell echoing down the stone corridor as Drake grabbed his neck and slammed him against the rough wall.

The dragon slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. I said nothing as Drake held out his hand for me, skirting the unconscious dragon carefully.

I pulled back, however, at the door leading to the outside. “This is the way we came in, but Drake, we really need to talk for a minute.”

“We don’t have time,” he answered, opening the door. A blast of icy air whirled in through it. I put both hands on the door and closed it again.

“Your friend there isn’t dressed for a romp outside in the blizzard,” I said quietly. “Neither are you three. You might possibly survive, although I don’t know how even a dragon can tolerate exposure to such cold, but he won’t. He’s in bad shape now, and the climb down is going to be hairy.”

Drake hesitated.

“Sweetie, I know we don’t have time for a lengthy conversation, but you have to answer me one question—is Gabriel responsible for kidnapping you or not?”

“Not,” he answered, gesturing toward the crumpled body of the man at the far end of the hallway. “István, get his things. We’ll put them on Kostya.”

“If Gabriel isn’t our enemy, then we’ve got to find him. He can help us get down off the side of this mountain.”

“No,” he repeated, his jaw set with a familiar stubborn cast.

“Dammit, Drake! You just said he’s not our enemy!”

“I said he wasn’t responsible for kidnapping us—and he isn’t. But he is just about the deadliest enemy Kostya has, and above all else, Gabriel must not know of his existence.”

My mouth hung open a moment in surprise, but before I could ask what was going on, a piercing scream rent the air, dying off in a horrible gargle that hinted of a more permanent end than that of the dragon lying unconscious at the end of the hall. A man’s voice shouted, another answered, followed quickly by the sound of running feet.

Drake sprang to action, jerking a heavy nylon parka onto the man he called Kostya, turning to open the door. But be fore he could shove the other dragon through it, Gabriel and his bodyguards burst around the corner, running for their lives toward us. He yelled something and waved his arm, skidding to a halt as the injured dragon turned to face him.

“Kostya Fekete,” Gabriel said, his voice filled with shock. “You live.”

“As you see,” the other dragon answered, stumbling for ward as if to meet Gabriel, falling heavily with a pained grunt.

Drake bent to help him just as I did the same.

“Fekete?” I asked as we hauled him to his feet. “That means black, doesn’t it? This is a black dragon?”

Gabriel gave a sharp bark of laughter that held absolutely zero percent humor. Another shout echoed down the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Kostya. “I believe I’ve had enough of your hospitality. We are leaving.”

“As are we,” Drake said grimly, taking Kostya’s arm. “Aisling, stay close to me.”

“What’s going on here?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean his hospitality? The aerie belongs to Kostya? Who exactly is this guy? Someone you know?”

“You could say that,” Drake answered, opening the door. Snow and wind swirled through it, hitting me with enough force to steal my breath. “He’s my brother.”

15

“I will be all right. Thank you.”

I set down on the nightstand a carafe of water, bottle of aspirin, and bowl of ice. “Don’t mention it. I’ll have Suzanne send you up another bowl of soup in a few hours, after we know you can keep the first one down.”

“It will stay down,” the dragon said with a stubborn set of his jaw.

“My dear, do you not think a doctor is called for in this situation? Drake’s brother looks very ill, and although I’d never scoff at the healing power of homemade soup, I fear that even the most nourishing of meals won’t help him.”

“He’ll be fine, Paula. A doctor looked him over while he was in Tibet.” It was a lie, but only a slight one. Gabriel wasn’t a doctor per se, but he was a healer extraordinaire, and he’d reluctantly given Kostya a clean bill of health.

“Oh, a doctor checked him over?” My stepmother bustled around the room, being what she termed useful, although in reality she was more of a hindrance than a help. “A real one? Not one of those suspicious faith healers who pretend to pull organs out of your stomach when all the while they are really using sleight of hand with chicken livers and the like? I saw a show on those men, Aisling, and they are not to be trusted in the least. Perhaps we should call a reputable doctor to have a look at him now.”

“It wasn’t a faith healer, I promise. Why don’t we leave Kostya alone to get some sleep?”

“I suppose that would be best,” she said, fluffing up his pillow for the last time before heading to the door, trailing gauzy scarves and advice as she left. “It’s all very mysterious how he just appeared, though…”

I waited until she’d drifted down the hallway to the stairs before giving the man in the bed a little smile. “You’ll have to forgive her. She means well, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

“She is mortal,” he said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.