‘‘No.’’ Drake hesitated. ‘‘But Kostya will not be so certain, and he will not stop at anything to regain it if he knows it is in your possession.’’

‘‘I’m quite able to keep my treasures safe even from your brother,’’ Gabriel said dryly.

‘‘That is not my point. If you were to retain the phylactery, Kostya would continue to attack you and your sept to get it.’’

‘‘It seems to me he’s pretty much doing that anyway,’’ I said.

‘‘If he knows I have the phylactery,’’ Drake said, ‘‘Kostya won’t be happy, but he won’t have cause to continue to fight you. It might even do much to keep him in line.’’

Gabriel frowned. ‘‘You had it once, and lost it to him. I am not comfortable knowing that it could again fall so easily into his hands.’’

Drake’s eyes glittered emerald, but they were no match for the brilliant quicksilver fire that burned in Gabriel’s.

‘‘Do you imply that I cannot hold my own treasure?’’ Drake asked with a clear warning in his voice.

‘‘Sweetie.’’ Aisling put her hand on Drake’s arm to get his attention. ‘‘Defluff those hackles. Gabriel wasn’t insulting you any more than you were insulting him. I know you want to have the phylactery to keep it safe, but I think that in this case, Gabriel should have it.’’

Drake glared at his mate. She kissed the tip of his nose. ‘‘It won’t hurt you to let something go,’’ she reassured him. ‘‘Gabriel will keep it safe. He won’t use it to destroy Kostya, will you, Gabriel?’’

Gabriel was silent for a moment.

I dug an elbow into his ribs.

‘‘No,’’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘‘The phylactery was not meant to be used as a weapon of revenge. I will honor it for what it is, and simply keep it safe.’’

I rewarded him with a smile and a little pinch of his thigh. He covered my hand with his, stroking my fingers in a silent gesture of acknowledgment.

It took a few more minutes of persuading before Drake reluctantly agreed to put the phylactery in Gabriel’s keeping. Since there were still several hours to go until deep night, Drake ordered Aisling to rest.

I followed her out of the room, leaving the dragons and Savian to talk.

The hallway held the usual furniture—a couple of chairs, some small tables, a large mirror against one wall. As I passed a small bureau, a telephone sitting on top of it rang. I glanced around for someone to answer it, but Aisling was upstairs, and the hall was empty.

‘‘Hello? Er . . . Vireo residence.’’

‘‘I wish to speak to . . . wait. Is this the doppelganger?’’

I recognized the voice at the other end almost immediately. It held a slightly Slavic accent, and for some reason, made the hairs on the backs of my arms stand on end.