‘‘Will you please not call me that?’’ I interrupted, backing away from the silver-eyed dragon who could kiss all semblance of wits right out of my head.

‘‘You are the wyvern’s mate,’’ the woman in black said suddenly from behind me, causing me to spin around. I felt trapped, surrounded by all number of threats, and I wanted nothing more than to slip out into the night and find a dark corner to sit and think about what had happened.

Everyone knew that it was impossible to take a dragon’s fire and live . . . unless you were a dragon’s mate. Wyvern’s fire was supposedly more potent than a regular dragon’s, and the fact that I’d kissed Gabriel without being burned to a crisp seemed to indicate that there was, in fact, something going on between us. But I was a doppelganger! I’d never heard of one being a wyvern’s mate. . . . I shook my head at my foolish thoughts. The question of whether or not a doppelganger could be a mate diminished in importance when there were so many other things claiming my attention.

I took a step toward the woman. ‘‘Look . . . er . . . I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’’

‘‘This is Maata,’’ Gabriel said smoothly, coming forward to do the introductions. ‘‘And that is Tipene. They are members of my guard.’’

‘‘You’re obviously an intelligent woman,’’ I told Maata, hoping to make her see reason. ‘‘I know this situation appears to indicate one thing, but I assure you that I’m no one’s mate. I’m a doppelganger, not human, not an elemental being like Cyrene, not even a spirit. Strictly speaking, I’m made up of shadows.’’

‘‘You felt like flesh and blood to me.’’ Gabriel was right behind me, the warmth of his body reaching me even though the night air was balmy. A little shiver went up my back as his breath caressed the nape of my neck. For a moment I was reminded of Magoth’s repeated seductions, but where he was icy cold, Gabriel radiated heat. ‘‘There is no other who could withstand my fire, May. It is a shock to me, too—a joyous one, I assure you, since I never expected to have a mate—but we will explore this new phenomenon together.’’

I turned slowly and looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were still bright with an emotion I realized was part sexual interest and part jubilation. But there was something else in his expression, something unyielding that hinted of trouble to come. He was a dragon, a wyvern, a healer, yes, but also a man who was a leader, someone who would quite likely fight to the death to protect his sept. He would be focused, relentless in his pursuit of whatever stirred his interest, and also possessive, since that was reported to be a trait common to all dragons.

An oddly deflated feeling possessed me, a sadness that I couldn’t risk experiencing what it would be like to be cherished by such a man. Sooner or later, however, reality would catch up to me, and that would be the end of everything. As much of a temptation as Gabriel represented, it would be better for us all if I didn’t give in and see what a dragon had to offer.

‘‘No,’’ I said simply, with as much kindness as I could. ‘‘There is no phenomenon. There is nothing to explore, at least not between us. I will arrange to have Cyrene moved. We will not impose upon your kindness any longer.’’

I made it across the room, my foot on the stairs before the two bodyguards caught me, one on either arm.

‘‘You are the wyvern’s mate,’’ Maata said, her face set. ‘‘You cannot reject him.’’

‘‘Excuse me?’’ I asked, unable to believe what she said.

‘‘You are his mate. You can’t leave.’’

I looked at the other guard, Tipene, the one who had stepped on my arm. His face was just as impassive as Maata’s. ‘‘You are the mate,’’ was all he said, just as if that was the end of the discussion.

‘‘Even if a doppelganger could be a mate, and even if I was that doppelganger, it doesn’t matter. I can’t stay.’’

‘‘Let her go,’’ Gabriel ordered. As soon as they released my arms, I twisted around to face him. He stood a few feet beyond me, incredibly handsome in his evening clothes, his eyes drawing me in and making me want to lose myself in them. He was still, but a coiled sense of power seemed to surround him, as if he was a panther about to pounce.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ I told him. ‘‘This is no reflection on you. You seem to be a very nice man . . . dragon . . . but unfortunately, even if I agreed that somehow, I was meant to be your mate, there are circumstances that prohibit me from taking that role. I hope you understand.’’

‘‘I understand,’’ he said after a few moment’s silence, his voice rubbing along my skin like velvet.

Before I could stop myself, I took a step forward toward him. ‘‘Thank you.’’

The rest of the world seemed to recede until only a small stretch of wool carpet bearing Gabriel and myself existed. His eyes searched mine, searing a silver path straight down to my soul. It was as if our souls touched for one blinding moment of glory.

Drake’s voice lashed across me with the violence of a whip crack, dragging me back into reality with a painful jerk. ‘‘There is still the matter of Mei Ling.’’

I backed away from Gabriel, not trusting myself to be near him. For a moment I wished . . . but that was folly. I needed to stop moping over wishes that would never be realized, and instead work on getting us out of the situation. The doorway loomed behind me. Oh, how I wanted to race through it, grab Cyrene, and escape this house. But I couldn’t, not yet. Slowly, I examined everyone in the room, silent and still as if they’d been frozen into place. I avoided looking at Gabriel’s bright eyes, looking instead at the man who’d spoken. ‘‘What about it?’’

‘‘You are the thief Mei Ling.’’ Drake frowned for a moment. ‘‘You don’t look Asian.’’

‘‘I’m not. Or rather, Cyrene isn’t, hence I am not.’’

‘‘Then why are you called Mei Ling?’’ he asked.

‘‘Mayling,’’ Aisling said suddenly, smiling. ‘‘It’s a nickname.’’

I nodded, and decided to brazen it out rather than offer up a denial none of them would believe. ‘‘And if I said I was the thief Mei Ling? What would you do? Hand me over to the watch? Burn me at the stake? Wrap me in chains and toss me into the nearest dungeon?’’

‘‘There is a price on her head,’’ István said. ‘‘A large price.’’

‘‘That’s right,’’ Aisling said thoughtfully. ‘‘I heard about that earlier. You stole something from Dr. Kostich, and he put a whopper of a bounty on your head.’’

‘‘Is this the point where you blackmail me into doing your bidding?’’ I asked, shifting my attention to Gabriel. ‘‘Are you going to threaten to turn me in if I don’t steal for you, too?’’

‘‘Too?’’ he asked, jumping on the word, his eyes curious. ‘‘You do not steal for yourself?’’

I paused for a moment, damning my verbal slip before tightening my lips. Why did I care what he thought of me, what any of them thought of me? Why did I want to explain to them how I had been bound to Magoth even before I’d been created, how I had no freedom in my life, no ability to make my own decisions. Why did it matter that Gabriel’s words stung me until I wanted to scream my innocence? I owed them nothing. They were no different from anyone else who tried to use me. ‘‘I am a doppelganger, a shadow walker. There is no end of people who have offered to hire me for one illegal purpose or another.’’

‘‘Then you will have no difficulty undertaking this task for Gabriel,’’ Drake said.

To my surprise, Gabriel turned to the other wyvern with a frown. ‘‘Drake, you are interfering with my mate.’’

‘‘I’m not your mate! And you needn’t couch your demand in such polite terms, dragon. There are those in the world who don’t bother with the niceties. They are the ones who use force to make me do their bidding.’’

‘‘I am not interfering,’’ Drake told Gabriel, totally missing my sarcasm.

‘‘You are, and I don’t appreciate it. May is mine, not yours. I won’t have you giving her orders or threatening her.’’

‘‘Oh, for mercy’s . . . I am not anyone’s mate!’’

Everyone ignored me. The green wyvern looked surprised at Gabriel for a moment. Aisling covered up a little chirp of laughter by suddenly taking a sip from her glass.

‘‘Might I point out that you have interfered with my mate on numerous occasions?’’ Drake said. ‘‘You even planned to challenge me for her.’’

A little spike of pain stabbed inside me. Gabriel flashed a glance toward me that I had no trouble deciphering as embarrassed. ‘‘That was before I knew . . . That doesn’t matter. The fact remains that you are interfering, and although I know you mean well, I would appreciate it if you would allow me to handle my mate in my own fashion.’’

‘‘The situation concerns us, as well. I believe that we have a right to ensure that matters are concluded satisfactorily.’’

‘‘You know, I think I’m with Gabriel on this,’’ Aisling said, putting her hand on her wyvern’s arm. ‘‘Maybe we should just butt out—’’

‘‘Kostya is not Gabriel’s problem alone,’’ Drake told her.

‘‘We are the only ones who are threatened by him,’’ Gabriel argued, taking a step toward the other dragon. ‘‘You are not fighting for your survival as we are ours.

We are the ones who must deal with Kostya.’’

‘‘That doesn’t mean—’’

‘‘Yes, it does!’’ Gabriel interrupted, the two men now toe to toe.

Their respective bodyguards lined up behind them as the wyverns slipped into a language I didn’t understand.

‘‘What are they speaking?’’ I asked Aisling, as she hoisted herself to her feet.

‘‘Bah. Baby’s sitting right on my bladder. Hmm? Oh, that’s Zilant.’’ She smiled at my look of confusion. ‘‘I only just found out about it myself. It’s a language that all dragons were taught centuries ago, so that members of different septs could understand one another. It’s pretty much unused now that most of them speak English. Zilant had something to do with the origins of the black dragons—it’s a region in Russia, evidently, and took the name from there.’’

The two wyverns were still going at it, arguing with occasional intercessions from their bodyguards.

‘‘Are they always like that?’’ I couldn’t help but ask.

Aisling smiled at me. ‘‘Pretty much so. They’re arrogant to a man, and bossy, and they always think their way is the only way. . . .’’ She tossed a fond look toward the dark-haired green wyvern. ‘‘But they’re also absolutely unswerving in their devotion. I know this whole thing with Gabriel has probably made you feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you, but he really is a sweetie, and I doubt if you’ll have the trouble with him that I had with Drake. He was absolutely impossible when I first met him.’’

‘‘I heard that!’’ the man in question said, interrupting his argument long enough to shoot a potent glare at Aisling.

She blew him a kiss, then excused herself and went off to the bathroom.

I started to edge my way out of the room. I made it to the stairs before Gabriel turned his head to notice I was nearly out of the room.

‘‘Mate!’’ he said, frowning.

‘‘Mate?’’ A voice came from behind me on the stairs. Cyrene stood there, her face puzzled as she glanced around the room. ‘‘You can’t mean . . . May? A mate? A dragon’s mate?’’

‘‘I thought you were tired and taking a nap,’’ I said, hurrying up to her.

‘‘I had a quick bath instead. I feel much better, although I’m confused about what’s going on here. Did that delicious Gabriel call you ‘mate’?’’

I opened my mouth to explain, but found it hard to put things in a manner that sounded like anything but mindless babble. ‘‘Er . . .’’

‘‘That is correct,’’ Gabriel said, moving over to stand next to me. He didn’t touch me, but he didn’t need to—to my embarrassment, I found myself leaning toward him, as if he was a lodestone and I was a magnet. ‘‘May is my mate.’’

‘‘But she can’t be!’’ Cyrene said, shaking her head as she marched over to us.

‘‘She can’t?’’ Gabriel asked, looking from her to me. ‘‘Why can’t she?’’

Gods, he was handsome. That warm brown skin, those liquid silver eyes, along with a strong jaw and gently squared chin that for some reason made me feel suspiciously weak in the knees. But he was a dragon, a wyvern, and I was Cyrene’s shadow. I moved a step away and tried to ignore the sorrow that filled me.

‘‘Why can’t she?’’ Cyrene looked at him as if he was insane. ‘‘Because she doesn’t like men, that’s why. She’s never had sex.’’

My face burned as I closed my eyes for a minute, fighting with the desire to shadow. ‘‘Cyrene, no one is interested in this.’’

‘‘Well, I certainly think Gabriel is going to be interested if he’s under the delusion that you are his mate! I know it’s hard for you to be open about this, but evidently there is a major misunderstanding about you. We owe it to them to be truthful; these people are our friends, after all.’’

‘‘István broke your neck,’’ I pointed out, momentarily sidetracked from the hell my life had suddenly become.

‘‘Yes, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it,’’ she said, turning to him. ‘‘You didn’t, did you?’’

István nodded, frowned, then shook his head. ‘‘I thought you were attacking Jim.’’

‘‘There, you see? You know I would never want to put you on the spot, dear Mayling, but now is not the time for shyness. Do not be afraid to admit the truth.’’

‘‘Oh, gods,’’ I swore to myself, sinking into the nearest chair. Why me? my mind shrieked. Why did Cyrene pick now to bring up this issue?

‘‘I . . .’’ Gabriel looked as stupefied as just about everyone else. ‘‘Are you sure?’’ he finally asked Cyrene, his confused gaze on me.

‘‘Oh, yes,’’ Cyrene answered, taking up a position next to me in order, undoubtedly, to show support. ‘‘I’m quite sure. May’s never been with a man physically, even though more than a few have wanted her.’’

‘‘The things I miss while I’m in the bathroom,’’ Aisling murmured as she took her seat again.

I hunched over, dropping my head to my hands in mortification, regretting to the very depths of my being the day I had the bright idea of telling Cyrene that I had never had, and never would have, a sexual relationship with a man. ‘‘Please, Cyrene! No more!’’

‘‘So wait, she’s a virgin?’’ Jim asked in an awestruck voice, coming over to snuffle my hands. ‘‘Wow. I haven’t seen a professional virgin since we were in Hungary.’’

‘‘Well, not strictly speaking, because when she was created, I wasn’t . . . er . . .’’ Cyrene had a rare and lamentably late moment of circumspection, and thankfully stopped that line of thought before I died of embarrassment right there before her.

I could feel Gabriel’s speculative gaze on me. I peered at him through my fingers. He examined me for a moment, then winked.

I wanted to die all over again.

‘‘Well, that’s really . . . um . . . I’m not quite sure what to say to that,’’ Aisling said.

‘‘You said she hasn’t been with men, but you guys aren’t . . . you know, girlfriends, are you?’’ Jim asked, continuing to sniff me.

I smacked at its nose, glaring at it before I turned the look on my twin as she said in an indignant tone, ‘‘Of course we’re not lovers! I created her! Making love to her would be like . . . like . . . like having sex with my own clone!’’

‘‘Well, you know, some people might find that kind of kinky and yet oddly attractive. I, myself—ow!’’

‘‘Silence!’’ Aisling said, shaking a rolled-up magazine at the demon.

‘‘Cy, please!’’ I begged. ‘‘Now that you’ve shredded what remains of my dignity, can we move on?’’

She patted my hand. ‘‘I’m just trying to help clear things up. It’s not fair to Gabriel that he not know the truth if he believes you are his mate.’’

My lips twitched as I tried to decide if I wanted to burst into laughter or tears.

‘‘That’s OK,’’ Jim said, leaning against me, leaving a little puddle of drool on the top of my shoe. ‘‘We won’t think bad of you just because no one’s ever parked the pink Plymouth in your garage of love.’’

‘‘Jim!’’ Aisling said, whapping it on the butt with the magazine.

‘‘What? I said it politely! Would you have preferred ‘ride the skin bus to Tuna Town’?’’

‘‘No!’’

I wondered if it would be possible to strangle a demon to death.

‘‘Windsurfing on Mount Baldy?’’

‘‘That’s it!’’ Aisling bellowed, pointing a finger at the demon. ‘‘One more euphemism, and you’re spending a week in the Akasha.’’

‘‘I think it’s time we leave,’’ I said at the same time, standing up to grab Cyrene’s arm.

‘‘I’m so sorry for Jim’s rudeness,’’ Aisling apologized.

‘‘Her twin started it,’’ the dog said, although it shut up quickly enough when Aisling shot it a look that promised retribution.

‘‘I don’t see what you’re so upset about,’’ Cyrene told me, frowning slightly. ‘‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of—’’

‘‘Cy!’’ I yelled, praying the ground would open up before me and swallow me whole.

‘‘May’s sexual experience, or lack of it, doesn’t matter at all,’’ Gabriel pronounced, his voice wrapping itself around me as he moved closer, not quite touching me, but close enough that I could feel his body heat again. ‘‘She is my mate regardless.’’

‘‘No, you don’t understand,’’ Cyrene interrupted, tugging his sleeve. ‘‘The problem isn’t that she hasn’t been with any men before . . . the problem is that she doesn’t like men.’’

You could have heard a feather drop in the silence that followed. Every single pair of eyes but Cyrene’s turned to me.

I groaned to myself and thought seriously of murdering my twin.

‘‘She . . . doesn’t?’’ Gabriel asked, disbelief rife in his voice.

‘‘No, she doesn’t. She told me so herself. But you know that she’s my twin, yes? My identical twin? An exact copy of me? So perhaps I’m the real mate, and you just got confused because May is so much like me.’’