‘‘I don’t quite know. It’s Cy, and she’s evidently standing in the middle of some horrible traffic trying to tell me something . . . What’s that?’’

‘‘. . . the blackmailer! Can you hear me now? He’s . . .’’ More sounds of engines cut off what she was saying. ‘‘. . . horrible man! I tried to fight him off, but . . . please, I’m begging you . . .’’

‘‘Where are you?’’ I yelled into the phone, hoping she could hear me.

‘‘Is it Kostya? Has he attacked her again?’’ Gabriel asked, half rising out of his seat.

My hope was in vain. I could hear Cy attempting to speak over the noise, but couldn’t make out the words. Suddenly, the connection went dead and all was silence.

Everyone in the plane was looking at me. I ignored them to turn to the one person to whom I knew I wouldn’t have to explain. ‘‘No, it’s not Kostya. Cyrene needs my help with something else, a personal matter.’’

His silver eyes searched mine. I was torn between the need to help Cy and the urgency presented by the situation with the phylactery, but with Cyrene’s plea for help still echoing in my head, there was only one thing I could do.

‘‘I’m very sorry, Gabriel, but I can’t go to Paris.’’ I grabbed the small backpack I used as a purse and rose.

Gabriel’s face was a study in emotion as frustration, anger, and irritation all took a turn, but as he nodded and stood, concern was all that was left. ‘‘I understand. Your twin must come first.’’

‘‘You go to Paris. I’ll use a portaling company to get there as soon as I find Cyrene.’’

Regret filled his lovely eyes for a moment before it was blinked away. He turned to Drake. ‘‘We will join you as soon as possible. I assume you will do everything in your power to keep the phylactery from falling into Kostya’s possession again.’’

Drake’s lips quirked. ‘‘You would trust me with it?’’ he asked.

Gabriel was silent for a moment before giving him a sharp nod. The pilot had opened the door and lowered the stairs; Gabriel and I hurried down them, heading toward the nearest hangar.

‘‘You don’t have to come with me,’’ I told him as the plane taxied off.

He said nothing until we were in the back of a cab.

‘‘Where is she?’’ he asked as we got in.

‘‘We should go to Drake’s house. That’s where she was last.’’

He gave the instructions to the driver before sitting next to me.

‘‘Gabriel . . . you don’t have to do this.’’

‘‘Your twin is in danger. That must take precedence over the phylactery,’’ he interrupted.