‘‘That’s where the story gets good,’’ he assured me. ‘‘There I was, faced with not only the man I’ve been following, but also a lovely woman. Imagine my surprise when the lovely woman is joined by an identical twin. Imagine that surprise turning to complete and utter astonishment when, as I was strolling past in an attempt to identify the ladies, I heard the name of one of the most sought-after criminals in the history of the Otherworld.’’

I cast my mind back to the morning, groaning to myself. ‘‘Cyrene called me Mayling.’’

‘‘Right out in the open, where anyone could hear,’’ he said with cheerful agreement. ‘‘Once I got over the shock of hearing her say the name of Mei Ling, I did a little bit of investigating, and found out that the woman with the loose lips was twin to one May Northcott. Two and two and two . . . well, they make six, May.’’

I shook my head, disgusted with myself for being so distracted by Gabriel that I hadn’t been aware of Savian. ‘‘And you simply followed us to London, and then later on, tracked me down at the warehouse. I can’t believe I didn’t see you.’’

‘‘I’m very good at following people,’’ he said with no pretense of modesty. ‘‘It’s my specialty, if the truth be known.’’

I digested all of that on the flight to Paris, ignoring his further attempts at conversation, preferring to dwell in the horrible inky pit of despair that wrapped me firmly in its embrace.

‘‘Don’t think that there’s any chance you’re going to get away from me,’’ Savian said as we deplaned at Orly Airport.

He waited until everyone else had left the plane but the flight attendants, all of whom watched me with interested eyes. I had no idea what story he’d concocted to tell them; to be honest, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away to somewhere dark, somewhere I could make my escape.

‘‘Do you know, I’m almost sorry I caught you,’’ he continued in a conversational voice as we walked up the long ramp to the concourse. ‘‘It’s been rather exciting trying to keep up with you. Are you really mated to the silver wyvern?’’

I stopped to give him an astonished look.

‘‘Word gets around fast,’’ he explained, giving me a little push to get me going again.

‘‘You are a very strange man,’’ I told him, thrown off guard by his entire demeanor. I expected the thief takers to be harsh, ugly little men with no souls and less humanity. But Savian was . . . well, charming. And handsome. And judging by the glint in his eye, probably also quite the ladies’ man.