I allowed myself to relax into him, seduced by the warmth of his body and the comfort he brought me just by holding me. He was becoming infinitely dear to me, more precious even than my own life. I must find a way out of the situation I was in—Aisling was a demon lord. Rumor said she was once a prince of Abaddon, but had been removed. She would know of a way to get around Magoth’s command. She would help me . . . she had to. The alternative was not to be thought of.

I awoke confused, the echoes of an alarm followed by a man’s voice piercing my uneasy slumber.

The door was just closing as I sat up and shook the hair from my face. ‘‘Gabriel?’’

Our room was empty, but judging by the shouts filtering up from the floor below, I gathered others were up and about.

A woman’s scream drifted up. I leaped out of bed, jerked on a pair of pants and a shirt, and went racing barefoot down the hall to the stairs.

Cyrene stood midway down the stairs, holding a blanket around her much as I had a few hours before. Behind her, with his back to me, Kostya stood, clutching her tightly to him. I suspected that from the way everyone else present stood as still as statues on the floor below, he held some sort of a weapon on Cy.

‘‘I’m in deadly earnest, Gabriel. Your mate may be immortal, but even she won’t be able to long survive a neck slit from ear to ear.’’

I shadowed, not waiting to find out why Kostya believed Cyrene was me, creeping down the stairs until I was within a hairsbreadth of him. It was morning, but a dull, overcast morning, and the chandelier that hung from the ceiling above the stairs hadn’t been turned on. No one saw me until I was just behind Kostya.

‘‘Mayling, no!’’ Gabriel yelled, leaping toward me.

Kostya realized his mistake too late, half spinning around toward me as Cyrene lunged forward, tripped over her blanket, and hurtled down the stairs to the floor below.

I threw myself on Kostya, my thumbs digging into the pulse points on his neck. Cyrene screamed as Gabriel caught her. I didn’t get to see more than him setting her abruptly aside before Kostya swore and swung around, slamming me into the wall and knocking the breath out of me.

Gabriel’s roar of fury rattled the windows. I’m just about completely certain that if he had made it to Kostya, he would have ripped the latter’s head off, but fortunately for us all, Drake’s two bodyguards grabbed Gabriel before he could enact his rage.

Drake himself jerked me from Kostya’s grip, pinning his brother to the wall, ably assisted by a snarling Jim.

‘‘This will cease now!’’ Drake bellowed, sharing his glare between his brother and Gabriel.