‘‘Yes,’’ I said, fighting to control the fear that rose inside me. I knew this moment would come, and counted on Gabriel’s strength to see me through it.

One sleek black eyebrow rose. He sat, crossing one leg over the other, the glass of sangria dangling from his fingers. ‘‘That is all I am to expect from you on the subject?’’

‘‘There’s nothing to say. I met a wyvern, agreed that I was his mate, end of story.’’

‘‘Oh, I think not,’’ he said with amusement. My stomach contracted. Gabriel would probably be furious and worried about my sudden disappearance from his bed. What if he came after me? What would Magoth do to Gabriel if he managed to track me down in order to rescue me? ‘‘There is another rumor that I have heard, one that I find even more intriguing.’’

I frowned, running my mind back over the last couple of days. With the quintessence returned to Kostich, there was nothing I’d done in the last few days that would be of any interest to Magoth. ‘‘What rumor?’’

‘‘It is said that a thief taker finally caught you.’’ He leaned back along the rattan chaise, patting the cushion next to him. ‘‘Let us not be so formal. Come sit with me.’’

‘‘I’m fine where I am,’’ I said, oddly relieved that he didn’t seem to be trying to enthrall me.

‘‘This is not an invitation,’’ he answered, the force in his voice compelling me to move from the sanctuary of my chair. Reluctantly, I clutched the blanket tight around myself and perched on the edge of the chaise, as far away from him as I could manage.

‘‘There, now, isn’t that more comfortable?’’ He dropped a hand on my blanket-covered knee, lolling back. In an instant, the demons moving silently around in the background were gone . . . as were Magoth’s clothes.

‘‘I believe I will start a clothing-optional hotel on the southern coast,’’ he said with studied nonchalance. ‘‘I find the human form so much more pleasing when it is not hidden away behind garments.’’

I slapped his hand away from where it had crept toward the knot of the blanket. ‘‘That depends on the body in question. I prefer to remain clothed, thank you.’’

‘‘Sweet May. Sweet, adorable May. Does my form please you? I have thought of changing it, but there is no other which can match the original, don’t you think?’’ He waved a languid hand to indicate his body.

He clearly hoped to shock or frighten me. In an effort to deny him any satisfaction on either account, I forced myself to glance over him with what I prayed indicated indifference. ‘‘It’s very nice, as you well know, given the number of women you’ve seduced, enthralled, and damned to eternal torment.’’

‘‘ ‘Torment’ is such a harsh word for it. I prefer ‘enlightenment.’ ’’